Dean spent the late morning driving to town, the black camera he had found in his dad's belongings sat in the passenger's seat, whatever secrets that were on the film held Dean's attention long enough to distract him from the mysteries of Sam. It turned out that The Sioux Falls General Store didn't have a photography processor, but the town over had one, and so Dean took the 45 minute drive to the next town.

It had taken a good 20 minutes of Bobby lecturing him to "Give Sam space" for Dean to finally listen and take the trip to grab clothes and develop the film, but he still couldn't get rid of the itch that kept harassing his mind, that something was wrong and he needed to be with Sam. He knew though that Bobby was a capable hunter and had proved himself more than trustworthy, so Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel and pulled into the parking lot of the general store.

"Yeah we develop, but it'll take a while." the store clerk droned, barely paying attention to the camera Dean held up.

Dean sighed, he really didn't want to have to come back. "How long?"

"24 hour minimum" the clerk, a young rustic looking fellow said without looking up from his magazine.

Dean grabbed his wallet and pulled out a $20, placing it between the clerk and his magazine.

The clerk slowly closed the magazine around the bill and looked up. "Guess we could get it done in 6."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

The clerk shrugged "Sorry man, that's the fastest I can do."

Dean sighed and headed out the door, leaving the camera on the counter. If he had 6 hours to kill, he might as well get the shopping done and hit a bar, maybe earn a few bucks at pool.

After spending a couple hours or so browsing the nearest thrift store and picking up 3-4 outfits for Sam and a couple for himself Dean found himself at a country style bar, enjoying a beer and eyeing the few other attendees. He was surprised any bar was open at noon on a weekday in this small of a town but came to find out from the lovely bartender that it was a Saturday.

He saw a couple guys eyeing the pool table and nodded at them "You play?" He asked, setting his now empty beer mug on the counter.

One of them, a bigger guy with a long black beard shrugged "I suppose I might fancy a game, you looking for some competition?" he asked, picking up a cue and slowly chalking the end of it with large practiced hands.

Dean plastered on his charming smile. "I got some time to kill and a game never hurts anything." He walked over and grabbed a cue for himself, spinning it as if testing the weight. "You good?"

The man laughed. "Depends how drunk I am, let me buy you a drink before we get started." He raised his hand in a 'two' signal to the barkeep who nodded in understanding and began pouring the drinks.

"I like your style." Dean began setting up the balls. The atmosphere was nice, not nearly as rough as many of the bars he had been in, And the man seemed genuine, he might actually enjoy himself for a bit.

The night wore on and Dean lost the first two games, tied the third, raised the stakes and won the fourth and fifth. He had kept the betting low, not wanting to draw eyes, and had only made out with fifty bucks, but that was enough to buy Sammy a birthday present. Besides, the group of men were nice enough, he would feel bad robbing them too much.

Many of the ladies were up for some fun, the early evening crowd rolling in, and Dean was (not unexpectedly) getting quite a few offers that he didn't exactly pass up. It wasn't like he was going to go all the way in a no-name bar in the middle of the afternoon but there was still some fun to be had and still some time to kill. He said his goodbyes to the guys, pocketing the $50, and let some busty brunette drag him into a corner booth for some middle base action. She might have been older than he preferred but that was part of the fun.

Right as he was getting comfortably handsy his phone vibrated, fisting his pocket he excused himself, pulling out the phone and looking at the screen.

He groaned at seeing the number, Dean slipped out of the building, hurrying across the parking lot and into the Impala, away from prying ears.

"Dad." he greeted upon answering

"Damn it Dean I have called you 3 times" the yell was loud, his father was in a shit mood.

"Sorry Sir, I must have missed it I was-"

"I don't want excuses." John Winchester snapped, breathing hard.

"Yes sir, sorry sir." Dean sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead "What's going on Dad?"

"I'm being followed" John answered in a low growl.

This made Dean sit up. "By who? You need backup? I'm on my way-" He fumbled with his keys, pressing them into the ignition

"No, no, I can handle myself, I switched vehicles to throw them off but I think I made a mistake."

His father admitting to a mistake. That couldn't be good. "What happened?"

"They're after Sam, and I think they managed to track the Impala, where are you now? At Bobby's place?"

"No sir, I took the Impala to grab some clothes for me and Sam I'm about an hour or so away."

"Good, I want you to stay out till nightfall and make sure no one follows you when you go back, I'll try calling Bobby and tell him to keep an eye out."

"Dad, why do they want Sammy? What the hell happened?" Dean might have given up before, but he needed to know, he promised Sam, but promises didn't mean shit if Sam was in trouble.

"I can't tell you." his father said sternly. "At least not over the phone, I'll explain everything when I see you again." His father must have heard the large sigh from Dean because he added "I'll make this right Dean."

Before Dean could persist, the line went dead and he sighed, letting the phone fall to his lap.

Dean let himself stretch out against the Impala's comfortable leather, he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, feeling more in the dark than he had in years. His father was a secretive person but when it came to family they had always been open.

"Guess I'll go pick up the camera and come back," he grumbled, surprised by how late it had gotten. He normally didn't lose track of time, maybe Bobby was right, maybe he needed the break. He turned the keys that were still hanging from the ignition, enjoying the engine purr. He sat for a moment, letting the rhythm of the car focus him. He put in his favorite cassette (the one he could never listen to without Sam whining) and pulled out of the parking lot, determined that whatever was going on he would find out and fix it before it was too late.

As soon as Dean entered the general store, he knew something was off, the store was mostly empty with only a few shoppers, a little surprising for around 4PM, the clerk from earlier jumped up as soon as he walked in and hurried to meet him in the back.

"Is it done?" Dean asked, leaning against the counter.

The clerk had an odd look on his face as he replied. "You know, you could get in a lot of trouble with these kinds of things." He said, reaching under the counter to grab an envelope

"What the hell you talking about?" Dean asked, the alcohol shouldn't be a problem, he could easily pass for at least 18 and in these small towns that was plenty good enough for most people.

"You think we don't look at the pictures we develop?" The guy raised an eyebrow. "I could have the cops here in 5 minutes with this kind of thing."

What the hell? What did his dad take pictures of? A crime scene? "It's not mine, it's for my Dad, he works in law enforcement." Dean quickly lied, hoping this was enough to cover up whatever gory mess his dad got himself into.

The guy scoffed "Nice try, local law enforcement doesn't use our services, and you're awfully young to be helping with this kind of thing."

"I'm 18" Dean quickly lied

"Well I guess I'll get the cops over here and you can both go to jail." He gave a sly smile "I mean, unless you can convince me not to."

Dean growled, a low rumble in his throat and did his best to look as intimidating as he had seen his father pull off. "The hell are you going on about? I don't know who you think you are but-"

The clerk looked annoyed now "Don't you play dumb with me, I know kiddie porn when I see it." he whispered in a hushed voice. "No way this kids a day above 12."

Dean blinked

What?

"My father is no perv" Dean growled, snatching the envelope from the man's hand and pulling out one of the pictures before the clerk could stop him.

All color drained from his face

No

No this was impossible

There was no way

Dean hadn't noticed his legs give way until he met the ground, the envelope falling from his other hand as he gripped the small photograph.

"Sam." He breathed, the word dying in his throat as the room spun.

It couldn't be, there was no way, no possible way

But there was no denying it

The small boy, pale and skinny, dark red marks traveling up his slender frame, a dark purple stain from hands that gripped him too tight, his wrists tied up, body laid out in a position Dean had only seen on women he was about to love. Even with the boy's eyes covered Dean knew in the pit of his stomach this could be no one else.

"God Sammy." He choked

"Sir?" The clerk was at his side, pushing him up and snatching the photo, stuffing it back in the envelope. "Please, you're causing a scene, it's clear you didn't know so I'll let you off easy ya?"

Dean was too distracted to even notice the man's change of heart. He reached into his wallet numbly and pulled out the $50 he was saving for Sam's present, wordlessly dropping it on the counter. "Tell no one." he did his best to growl, but it came out closer to a whisper.

"Yeah, okay," The guy said "You gonna make him pay? The bastard that did this?"

"I'll make him wish he was never born." Dean said, and the numbing shock was replaced by a coal so hot it physically hurt him, burning rage that consumed his gut, driving up through his chest. He turned to leave.

"Your camera sir?" The clerk held up the shiny black object

"Keep it" Dean replied, and walked out, envelope clutched tightly in his fist as he walked out the doors, not even caring if the guy was dialing 911 at that moment. He would be long gone before any cops got there.

Sam

He needed to get to Sam

He slipped into the driver's seat, envelope on the seat next to him. There were more pictures, he knew that there were more pictures, he didn't want to know what they showed, didn't want to imagine how every one of those marks came to be there or those handprints that engulfed the tiny waist.

Then he was driving, going speeds he would never dare had anyone else been in the car. He knew he wasn't quite sober, knew he was risking everything, but he didn't care, not one damn bit.

Then the phone was ringing, pressed up to his ear, and he wasn't sure when he had dialed the number but knew he was calling his dad's cell.

Because John would pay

If it was the last thing Dean did John would pay for what he did, he would suffer a hundred - no- a thousand times what he had caused Sam to go through.

God

Sammy

"If you called this number you know who I am, leave a message."

Dean cursed, throwing the phone down onto the floor, a horn honked at him as he swerved, barely dodging an oncoming car before regaining control.

"Damn it." Dean growled "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT." He screamed, pounding his hands against the wheel.

How could this happen?

How could he fail so badly? He was right there, and he saw nothing, absolutely bloody nothing.

There was a horn blazing and Dean looked into his mirror just in time to see a black van approaching from behind.

And then his hunter instincts were going off like alarm bells, the sound of his father's words from earlier playing in his head. Dean swerved, throwing himself off the side of the road, but the slight buzz from his beers left him misjudging and coming to an abrupt halt as the front of the car collided with an embankment. He was lurched forward, head slamming into something.

Everything was fuzzy

And loud

He couldn't see, the dust was so thick. He could barely breath. Everything felt numb like a dream.

He felt the two hands reaching into the car and pulling him out. Everything was so blurry and bright he couldn't make out any faces, couldn't concentrate on any sounds

He felt the cloth being placed over his mouth, breathed the sweet scent of something

and things went dark.