Authors Notes: Thank you everyone for all of your support and awesome reviews. It was definately nice to come back to after so long and I'm so happy that I got this chapter up relatively quick compared to my recent record :) I hope you enjoy this! Thanks to Angelustatt and my mother as always as without your opinion I would be lost.

Beta: Carikube ... Thanks for the speedy Beta! You Rock!

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Chapter 12. When It Rains It Pours.

The urge to throw the phone was tempting. The situation warranted that kind of frustration as far as Bobby was concerned but he had already broken one cell phone and this one wasn’t even his. The van driver, Carl, had been nice enough to stop and pick him up so Bobby didn’t think destroying the man’s phone would be the appropriate way to say thank you.

“Damn stubborn idiot,” Bobby groused. Venting in verbal frustration would have to do.

He looked sidelong at Carl and silently commended the man for his attempt at disinterest. The conversation he’d just had with Sam must have sounded like some domestic squabble with his kid. That wasn’t so far off base if you didn’t count that Dean had apparently been captured by vampires and that Sam had gone into their nest with only the colt and machete, at most, for his back-up.

Ever since John Winchester had turned up at his door with those two little boys, Bobby had found himself getting attached. John had been a good friend, almost like a brother even and the boys had become his family.

Even when John and he had parted on bad terms, Bobby had still hoped that they knew they could come to him if they ever needed help. When John had died he had vowed to watch over them and make sure they were okay and that job had never been more important … and stressful than it was now. If anyone could attract trouble it was John’s boys.

Bobby handed the borrowed cell phone back to its owner, who in turn placed the device in his right shirt pocket.

“Everything okay?” Carl asked, only glancing at Bobby quickly before his eyes focused back on the stormy conditions in front of them.

“Yeah …” Bobby trailed off. Nothing was okay at the moment. The boys were in some serious shit and if Sam managed to get himself caught Bobby was going to kill the kid himself.

“Kids huh?”

Bobby huffed and shifted in the seat. “Something like that.” The van swerved and Bobby reached out and gripped the dashboard to stop himself slamming forward. “Damn.”

“Sorry. This storm’s been comin’ all day,” Carl explained as he took control of his vehicle once more. “Glad I came along when I did or you woulda been stuck out in this.”

“It sure did hit fast,” Bobby agreed. There was heavy rain, strong winds, thunder and lightening and the boys were out in this. It didn’t make Bobby feel any better about the situation. “Listen; do you know where the McKay farm is?”

Carl nodded, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Sure do, although the McKay’s don’t own the place no more.”

“Figured as much,” Bobby muttered and then turned to Carl. “You think you could drop me off there?”

“Well …” Carl began, his weathered face was contemplative. “I wasn’t exactly headed out that side of town …”

Bobby didn’t want to hear a negative. He would pay the man what he wanted as long as he arrived at the farm as quickly as he could. If Carl couldn’t get him there then he would need to find another ride once they hit town. It could be done but it would be much quicker if he was just dropped off there. He wasn’t above knocking the guy on the head and borrowing his van. It was for a good cause after all. “I …”

“I got a feeling this is real important like.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’ll take you. I wouldn’t want my kids out in this weather, let alone in trouble but y’know I wouldn’t hate some gas money if ya got some.”

“You get me there as fast as you can and I’ll double that tank of gas.”

Carl smiled and put his foot down on the accelerator, his eyes still on the wet conditions. “You have a deal there. This van might not look much but she’s done good by me.”

Bobby nodded and smirked. His own blue pick-up truck often looked a little worse for wear but she did the job. The same could be said for most all cars he drove. He was a big believer in not judging a book by its cover but then in his line of work he guessed that kind of went without saying.

Thunder cracked over head followed by lightning striking out across the now dark sky. He winced as the van rocked in the wind as they roared on down the dark road. He imagined that the thunder and lightning was John’s temper from upstairs at how he had let things get so bad with the boys.

As much as Bobby would have a few choice words of his for the stubborn mule of a man, Bobby could understand if John was angry with him. They had both screwed up but at least in the end John had managed to keep both boys alive. What had Bobby done? He had left Dean when he had needed him most. It was something that he had accused John of doing in the past but this time it’d had dire consequences … Dean had sold his soul. Sam was alive and he was thankful for that. It had killed him to see Sam lying there so still and lifeless but he would always regret leaving Dean alone with his dead brother’s body. Dean had all but ordered him to leave and Bobby had listened and he should have known that Dean would have tried something foolish. The fact that the boy had managed to get himself such a crap deal just added to the foolishness.

It was that moment in the junk yard that Bobby had really seen how bad off Dean was and part of him had wanted to bring John back from the dead so that he could rip the man a new one for screwing his sons head up so much that he felt so low of himself.

Dean liked to portray this strong silent persona but what was really inside? Was a scared little boy, a boy that really could only see his worth in relation to what he could do for his family. Dean really had no idea just how important he was to them all, not even John sacrificing his own life to save Dean had helped to fix Dean’s self worth. Instead he had taken his job as Sam’s protector to a whole new level and Bobby knew that John’s last order hadn’t exactly helped.

Thunder clapped loudly again and Bobby smirked, leaning forward and looked up to the sky, a rueful smile played on his lips. Just like John, dead and still arguing back. The boys had always been one thing that could get them arguing. Bobby didn’t always agree with the way John handled things and John didn’t always appreciate Bobby speaking his opinion on John’s parenting skills or lack there of. It was a dance between them over the years that ended with Bobby pulling a shot gun on John’s stubborn ass …

If it wasn’t for the rumble of the very familiar car, Rumsfeld’s silence would have told Bobby all he needed to know.

Walking over to the window, the newspaper he had just been sitting down to read still rolled up in his hand, Bobby moved the curtain aside. The Impala’s engines shut off and Bobby watched as John got out of the drivers seat. He briefly wondered where John’s truck was. He’d gotten his hands on the black beast for John when his friend had informed him that he was thinking of handing over the Impala’s keys to Dean. And since then whenever the Winchesters stopped by his place it was always the boys in the Impala, following John in the truck.

The Impala pulling into his yard by itself was Bobby’s first cause for concern. The second came when squinting through the dirty glass window and through the dark of night, Bobby watched as John rushed around to the passenger side of the Impala and wrenched open the door. “Bobby! Get your ass out here!” John yelled before reaching into the car.

Bobby didn’t have to be told twice. It wasn’t the authoritive tone in John’s voice, Bobby didn’t take orders from John Winchester, it was the hint of fear there that had Bobby dropping the newspaper on a chair on his way out the door. Rumsfeld was now barking, not in a protective, guarding way but in a way that told Bobby that the Rottweiler had sensed the urgency and panic as well.

Bobby slammed the door open and rushed down the steps, issuing a quick order at Rumsfeld to shut up. He was just in time to see John lifting Dean from the car. Blood ran down the side of the young man’s face and he was unconscious.

“Jesus, John! What happened?”

“Help me get him inside.”

Bobby ignored the fact that John hadn’t answered his question. There would be time once they got Dean inside. Between the two of them the managed to get Dean up the porch steps and deposited him on the couch. Bobby had briefly thought about carrying the boy up to the spare room that the boys always stayed in but decided against it. They could take him upstairs once they knew what they were dealing with.

John was hovering, hands ghosting over the nasty cut on Dean’s forehead and down to his torso where Bobby expected there were broken ribs if John’s actions were anything to go by. Both Winchesters were covered in dirt and grime and John’s hands were slightly shaking.

Bobby went and retrieved his med kit, giving John a moment to breathe, returning after a short stop to the kitchen to get a bottle of whiskey. You never could tell when and for what you would need it for in times like this.

“John?” Bobby dumped the kit on the floor beside the other hunter and then touched his shoulder, demanding that John looked at him. “What the hell happened? You both look like shit.”

“Spirit got the jump on us. He’s been out of it ever since.”

“Don’t suppose you thought of taking him to the fucking hospital…” Bobby muttered under his breath.

John’s glare in return told Bobby that he had been heard loud and clear and it was very clear that John didn’t appreciate Bobby contradicting his decisions.

“Don’t fucking start on me, Singer, John growled, curling his hands into a fist in what looked like an attempt to control his anger.

“Don’t get all on your high horse with me, Winchester. You show up, beat to hell, with your oldest son unconscious and bleeding. I’m just worried is all.”

John rubbed a hand over his face, coming to rest over his three day old growth. Bobby could see the fatigue etched plainly on John’s face, in his eyes, that and something else that Bobby couldn’t quite identify yet.

Bobby shoved the bottle at John and made to shove him aside a little so that he had better access to Dean. Once he was close enough, Bobby placed a hand against Dean’s cheek to then gently touch the small bleeding cut on Dean’s forehead. It looked nasty but as soon as it was cleaned up it wouldn’t look half as bad. The cut was just superficial, wouldn’t even need stitches. It was how long Dean had been out that had him worried.

“Dean?” Bobby called, lightly tapping Dean’s cheek. Getting no response Bobby took the pen light out of the bag and tested both eyes. They weren’t exactly reacting the way they should but it didn’t look as bad as what he had thought. “Looks like he’s got himself a mild concussion,” Bobby told John, glancing at him.

Bobby cleaned the cut and placed a butterfly clip over it just to be cautious and then moved onto the kid’s ribs. Lifting Dean’s shirt, Bobby was greeted with a ugly bruising and he winced, injuries to the ribs were never fun but as he checked them he found that they weren’t broken, probably just badly bruised.

Once he was sure Dean was okay other than being unconscious, Bobby lightly patted the boy on the chest affectionately and then turned to John who was sitting on the floor, the bottle of whiskey untouched in his hand. He looked terrified and angry all at the same time and Bobby wasn’t sure which one would win out here.

“You want to tell me what happened?”

“I told you!” John snapped, staggering to his feet, the bottle still in his hands but surprisingly enough John still hadn’t attempted to drink any. “Fucking ghost got the jump on us.

“Don’t snap at me! I’m not the damn enemy!” Bobby took a calming breath. “Look, lets just get Dean upstairs and we’ll all get some rest.

John’s eyes went to his son and Bobby could see the concern for Dean was winning over his frustration right now. Between the two of them they managed to get Dean into the spare room. Dean had woken up confused for a moment as to where he was and Bobby had stood back and let John check him over, soothe Dean back to sleep. Bobby had headed to his own room after ordering John to get some rest himself.

The next morning, when Bobby had entered the kitchen, he’d found John sitting at his kitchen table and one look at the man, Bobby could tell that he hadn’t been to sleep. The nearly empty bottle of whiskey and empty coffee cup told him that John had sat up stewing over everything and that was never a good thing.

“Never did listen worth a god damn …” Bobby muttered as he headed straight for the coffee pot. He wasn’t getting into anything with John without coffee, or he might tear the man’s head off.

“You got something you want to say?” John’s tone was guarded, like he was waiting for a fight and Bobby tried not to take it personal since the night before had been tough on everyone … and the fact that John was running on no sleep.

“I dunno. You got something you want to tell me?” Bobby asked turning around with a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and leant back against the counter.

John glared, eyes blood shot. “In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t answer to you.”

“You turn up on my doorstep with Dean unconscious, the least you can do is give me an explanation.” Bobby paused and took a sip of his coffee, almost burning off his tongue. He put the coffee down on the bench and crossed his arms over his chest. “You look like shit, Winchester and something tells me that last night isn’t the only problem, now spill.”

“Fine,” John answered petulantly. “Dean was distracted, he didn’t follow my orders like he was suppose to and got himself thrown through the fucking air like a rag doll …” John ranted.

“The best of us make mistakes. He’s had it tough since Sam left. It wouldn’t kill you to take a break.”

John looked at Bobby as if the mechanic had shot his dog.

Bobby knew that Sam was a sore subject for John. It had been almost two years since Sam had left and John and Dean were both finding it difficult. They both missed Sam but John was a stubborn bastard and wouldn’t do anything about it.

Bobby wasn’t stupid, He knew that both Sam and John had played a big part in how things had been left between them but it made Bobby angry to see that Dean hadn’t even been taken into account and now, even almost two years later, Dean was still being ignored by both.

From what he had heard, Sam had made a conscious effort to disown everything to do with hunting and his father … apparently Dean was a part of that. John was no better and over the last year or so Bobby had seen the gradual decline in Dean’s energy … he was trying to deal with Sam’s departure and look after his father all at the same time. It wasn’t good and it needed to stop. Trying to tell this to John was a whole other thing.

“We don’t need a break.”

“You’re a stupid ass, you know that?”

“I don’t want to hear it, Singer.” John stood up, the shift from casual to serious was obvious in the increasing tones of their voices.

“Oh that’s about right with you isn’t it?” Bobby growled back, trying his best to keep his voice down. Dean was injured and he didn’t need to hear him and John fighting.

John’s eyes glowered but he remained where he was standing, the look on his face daring Bobby to piss him off. “Don’t start with me again. I have had it up to here …” John gestured with a hand above his head. “…with this bullshit.”

Bobby snorted and threw his hands up in the air. “You’ve had it? Take a look around you, John and wake the fuck up!” His voice raised and any thoughts of not getting into an argument flew right out the window.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on? I know he misses his brother but I can’t have that interfering with hunts. Lives depend on him focusing. Sam made his decision and Dean needs to get over it.”

Bobby could see hurt flash through John’s eyes as he spoke about Sam but the defensive anger burst through, covering the hurt and Bobby felt his own anger rising. He and John had always had their disagreements and arguments over the years but this one was building in a dangerous way.

“He needs to get over it? Just like that? All his life you have drilled into his head that Sam is HIS responsibility and he’s done a better job at raising that kid than anyone and now he’s just supposed to forget about it?”

“He needs his head in the job!”

He’s not a fuckin’ soldier, he’s your son!” Bobby shouted, now not caring who heard him. “And if you don’t realise that before it’s too late? You’ll have lost both your boys.”

“Dad?... Bobby? What’s going on?” Dean’s voice was confused and cautious as he entered the kitchen.

The older men stopped for a moment and both looked at Dean. He still looked half asleep but was waking up faster now that he’d interrupted the brewing argument.

“How’re you feeling, Dean?” Bobby asked as John broke out of his silence and stood straighter.

“Dean, front and centre.”

“God damn it, John …”

“You…” John pointed at Bobby. “…keep out of it! This is between me and my son.” The older Winchester turned back to Dean who had come to stand closer. “What the hell was that last night, Dean?”

“I …”

“Answer me, now!”

Bobby stepped in front of John, putting himself between the man and his son. Bobby didn’t like to get involved in the way John brought up his kids. They’d had their disagreements but never come to anything physical about it. John was angry now and the fact that he just been scared for Dean’s welfare was obviously far from his mind.

“Get out of my way, Bobby.”

John’s warning was low and any normal person would have shrank back from it, but Bobby wasn’t a normal person.

“I don’t think so. You need to calm down right now.”

“Bobby, its okay …”

“I’m not going to tell you again, Singer.”

“Neither am I, John. Go away and calm down or you can the hell out of here.”

“Both of you shut up!”

Bobby felt something brush past him and realised that Dean wasn’t standing behind him anymore. He had pushed past them both and stormed off a little unsteadily towards the living room.

John’s attention was automatically torn from Bobby to the retreating form of his oldest son. “Stop! Right there!”

Bobby watched as Dean froze in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room and turn around. The look in his eyes told Bobby that this was more than just some stupid mess up on a hunt. “Why? Are you going to throw me out too? I’m a little old for that and this isn’t your house!”

Hearing Dean snap back at his father was a bit of a surprise. He wasn’t sure he HAD ever heard it.

“Don’t bring your brother into this.”

“Why? Isn’t this what this is about?”

John took a few more steps closer to Dean who brought his hand up to his head briefly like he had a massive headache and with that head injury Bobby wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he did.

“No! This is about you paying attention, and doing your job!”

Dean shook his head, eyes squinting when the motion did no good for his headache. “I always do my job, that’s all I ever do but you and Sam fail to notice so you know what? The Hell with both of you!”

And with that Dean turned around again, heading for the front screen door, John hot on his heels. Bobby wasn’t sure what exactly had gone on but enough was enough.

“Don’t you walk away from me while I’m talking to you, boy!” John caught up and wrapped a hand around Dean’s bicep to stop him from reaching the outside world.

Dean tried to wrench his arm out of John’s grip but his father held on tight. “That’s my whole problem! You NEVER talk!”

“Enough!”

Both sets of eyes turned towards him at his outburst and both held the same amount of surprise at the shotgun in Bobby’s hands.

“Enough. John, take your hands off him right now or I will fill your ass full of buck-shot, you hearme?” At John’s silence Bobby continued. “Now get out of here before my trigger finger gets happy and I shoot you anyway.”

“What?”

“You think I’m messin’ about? Get off my property now and I don’t want to see your sorry ass until you have calmed the fuck down.”

The next moments found Bobby in a vicious staring match between the two friends and Bobby wondered whether he was actually going to have to act on his threat. He didn’t exactly want to but he wasn’t going to put up with this kind of thing happening in his home. Not between people that he considered his family.

Finally John turned his fiery, furious eyes to Dean. “Be in the car in thirty seconds or I’m leaving without you!” and with that John left, slamming the door as he went.

Bobby looked at Dean and lowered his shotgun. He hated the fact that he had just pulled a shotgun on one of his good friends and the slump of Dean’s shoulders made him feel even worse.

“Sorry Bobby.” Dean apologised looking out through the door to his father slamming the Impala door closed. “We shouldn’t have brought our issues down on you.”

“Nonsense, you know you’re always welcomed here …”

“Still … thanks for the help last night anyway.”

“You don’t have to leave right away. You could use some rest, kid.”

Dean smiled sadly, the hint of a headache still evident in his expression. “Thanks, Bobby, but I’m fine. I should go before Dad takes off in MY car. I don’t think he has her best interests at heart right now.” It was a joke, an attempt to lighten the mood and he didn’t know whether to be sad that Dean was always trying to make it easier on everyone else.

He would have preferred Dean stayed. John could look after himself for a bit but he understood why Dean was leaving with John. The boy was as loyal as they come and as pissed off as he had seemed with John moments before Bobby knew that the need to have the man’s back burnt stronger, especially in his brother’s absence.

Bobby clapped his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You need anything, at all, you call me okay?”

“I will.”

Bobby had known that he wouldn’t be seeing the Winchesters for a long time after that. He hadn’t expected it to be two years. John was apparently really pissed at him but that was okay because Bobby wasn’t a member of the John Winchester fan club either.

He was more than a little surprised when Dean had turned up on his doorstep two years later and even more surprised that he had Sam instead of John with him. He had helped them with no questions asked. No matter their differences, John was a good friend and he and the boys were family.

Now he and Sam had less than a year left to save Dean’s sorry ass and Bobby couldn’t help but feel like they were running out of options. He wouldn’t rest until he knew both of those boys were safe. It was the least he could do for John and the least he could do for the boys.

“How old?”

“Sorry?” Bobby asked when Carl’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“Your boys,” Carl clarified.

Bobby snorted but didn’t correct the man on his assumption. “Old enough to know better.”

“I guess it don’t matter how old they get, you’ll always find a reason to worry.”

“Of that? I have no doubt.”

Bobby just hoped that they made it through this so that he had a chance to test that theory. If they went and got themselves killed he would kill them.

“Say, how long to …”

“I can have you there in fifteen.”

Carl smirked. Bobby’s impatience must have really been showing through. He wasn’t used to relying on strangers for help. It wasn’t the way Bobby worked and he felt a little out of his depth. He would feel a lot better once they got to that damn farm and he saved those boys damned asses.

xXx

“Wake up, Sam!”

“Dad?”

Sam jolted awake, an automatic response to one of his father’s orders regardless of how much he rebelled against them. It was ingrained in him to jump first and ask questions later and it was a habit he had strived to break.

Sam licked his lips, his tongue sliding over a cut, making him wince. He opened his eyes expecting John to blast him one for not jumping to. Instead, Sam could hear crying, muffled and panicked. It was a woman that much he knew for sure.

Opening his eyes, slowly blinking, Sam searched for his father even though he knew it had only been his imagination. His need to get out of this situation, his need to wake up and save his brother had sounded an alarm in his head in the form one of the only voices that could make him obey without much thought.

Right now? Sam felt kind of comforted by his mind conjuring John. In a way it was like his Dad was watching out for them still. The man was nothing if not stubborn.

As his vision focused more Sam could see Dean lying a few feet away. There was hardly any light now but he could see Dean was in trouble.

Sam hurt all over, his nose felt stuffed and his jaw was painful to move but it wasn’t broken. His ribs on the other hand were a different story. He vaguely remembered hearing a few of them snap. Moving was going to hurt.

He almost expected to hear John’s voice telling him to suck it up and get a move on. He wouldn’t have resented him for it this time; in fact it was probably what he needed to hear.

Taking a steadying breath, Sam placed his hands flat on the ground and pushed himself up. Gritting his teeth, he allowed a growl of pain to pass his lips as he felt his ribs grate against each other. “God …”

There was whimpering to his right, the high keening squeal had Sam closing his eyes as the sound pierced his skull and reverberated around in his head.

Sam crawled over to Dean who was lying on his side near the cage wall. As he moved closer he could see that Dean was unconscious and Sam almost gasp when he touched his brother’s face. It was cold and clammy and if it wasn’t for the shivering and small puff of breath then Sam would have believed he was dead.

It must have been below freezing outside because Sam was cold only wearing a t-shirt and over shirt and Dean was wearing nothing but his jeans and boots and covered in his own blood. “God … Dean …” He brushed a hand through Dean’s sweat matted hair.

A muffled tearful voice brought his attention to the other side of the cage. A young black woman sat there, arms bound behind her and masking tape over her mouth. Tears streamed down her face and she was trembling in the cold.

Sam turned back to Dean and then looked up to try and see through the mesh. He could just see out into the barn and saw that once again no-one was watching. The vampires were typically arrogant enough to leave them alone. Granted, Sam had no way to get them out right now but he would be working on it … and they would be sorry.

Trying to move as little as possible, Sam shifted so that he was in reach of his brother’s foot. They had taken everything useful from him but they hadn’t gone near his feet. He didn’t know why. He would have thought that it was an obvious place to look for a weapon but he didn’t really care why if it meant they had been as careless with Dean.

A smile spread across Sam’s face as his hand came across the small silver dagger that Dean wore in his boot. His brother usually liked to be prepared for anything and was rarely without hidden weapons. He felt vulnerable without them. And Sam couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

“Thanks Dean,” he said quietly, patting his brother’s leg.

The last thing he wanted to do was leave his brother. In fact, the last thing he wanted to do was move at all but he couldn’t just leave the girl tied up when he could do something about it and he could use all the help he could get.

He turned around, the move causing him to gasp loudly and shut his eyes tight as they watered from the sharp twinge in his ribs. Once he could breathe again he opened his eyes and blinked a few times to clear the moisture from them.

Looking at the terrified woman, Sam tried for a reassuring smile but it didn’t seem to calm her much. He moved towards her slowly, mindful of his ribs, sucking in slow and even breaths.

“Shh…it’s okay. I’m going to untie you, okay.” Sam held up the knife to show her. The woman whimpered but nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll have you free in a moment. Sit forward.”

Sam made quick work of cutting through the masking tape that was holding the woman’s wrists together and then guided her back against the wall. He watched with a sympathetic grimace as she brought her hand up and ripped the masking tape from her mouth with a cry of pain.

Sam kept a hand on her shoulder as she took some shuddering breaths, bordering on sobbing. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, alright.”

“They t-took him!”

“They took who?”

“My …” she choked on a sob before continuing. “My b-boyfriend … oh god, they killed him!”

Sam remembered now. He had seen two people in the cage when he had been getting Dean down. They must have taken one of them while he had been unconscious. He felt guilty for being relieved that they had left his brother alone. He didn’t like that someone had been killed but he couldn’t not be glad that his brother hadn’t been touched again.

Sam suddenly found himself with an armful of hysterical woman. He gasped in pain as she crushed his injured ribs, her arms wrapped tightly around him. “Aghh … shit! It’s okay …”

“No! They … they killed … what the hell are they? Oh my God, it was t-terrible.”

“Hey! Listen to me! Snap out of it, okay!” Sam snapped, the pain of his injuries making his patience thin, Dean’s predicament across the cage from him not doing much better for his mood. “I’m sorry about your boyfriend but I need you to stay with me. We’re gonna get out of here. I need to get my brother out of here and I could really use your help!”

More sobbing came from the shuddering mess in his arms and Sam sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Every instinct he had told him that he needed to move back to Dean. He needed to check his brother over more thoroughly. He needed to try and wake Dean up.

“Are you with me?” Sam asked when he felt the black woman calm down a little.

All was silent for a moment and she he felt her nod, release one more, quiet, sob and then push herself back from Sam. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot and tears tracked down her face and she looked anything but okay but Sam would take what he could get.

“My name is Sam …”

“I know.”

Sam cocked his head to the side in question to which she shrugged. “I heard … those things call you Sam. I-I’m Tabitha”

“Okay, Tabitha, everything’s going to be alright.” Sam held up a hand to stop the protest evident in Tabitha’s watery eyes. “Someone’s coming, a friend of mine…”

“No offence, but your rescue plan didn’t exactly work.”

“Yeah…” Sam grinned ruefully. “Well Bobby knows what he’s doing.”

A groan from across the room made Sam’s heart speed up, his head turning back to where he had left his brother. Pushing back the pain in his ribs, he moved as fast as his body would allow back to Dean’s side.

Dean shivered violently, eyes open and searching. “Sam?” His voice was no more than a croak.

“Hey, big brother, how are you doing?”

“W-what’re you doing … here?” Dean licked his dry lips, as his eyes started falling closed again.

“Nononono, Dean, you need to stay awake, okay?”

“…m’wake.”

“That would be a little more believable with your eyes open, dude.”

Sam’s voice held a hint of amusement for Dean’s sake but the truth was he was terrified and the longer Dean took to open his eyes the worse he felt.

“Is he okay?” Tabitha came up behind him, rubbing her sore wrists.

“He’s fine,” Sam answered automatically. He knew that Dean would answer that way but it was so far from the truth. Moving closer to his brother, kneeling by his side Sam placed his hands on either side of Dean’s face. “Dean!” One hand slid down to his red painted throat to feel for his pulse. It was there, pumping fast, trying to accommodate his body for the amount lost. “Come on, man. Open your eyes.”

“They … I saw what they did to him.”

Sam’s gaze was pulled from Dean; looking back at Tabitha his expression became sympathetic. Seeing what she had seen at the hands of these vampires would be awful for someone like him to see let alone a civilian who had no idea what the hell was going on.

He brought his attention back to Dean, squeezing his brother’s shoulder. “Dean … please just wake up.”

Sam didn’t know whether it was the pleading in his voice but Dean stirred again, his eyes fluttering open. He looked dazed but Sam wasn’t worried. Dealing with dazed was better than dead.

“That’s it.” Sam smiled.

Dean shivered and tried to curl in on himself, the wounds making harder to accomplish without pain.

“You’re cold.”

“No … really?”

The sarcasm was almost more of a relief than Dean being awake. “If I had my jacket I would have given it to you … you want my shirt?”

Dean raised his eyebrows with what seemed like a humongous effort. “Then y-you’ll be cold. What … kinda brother would t-that … make me?”

Sam sighed, giving his brother a knowing smile. “I’m not the one surviving despite massive blood loss right now.”

“I…I’m f-fine …”

“Sure you are,” Sam placated as he eased himself out of his shirt. “But I have still have my t-shirt, and you always taught me to share, remember?”

“So … you do listen …” Dean mumbled.

“I always listen to you, Dean.”

“Just n-not Dad.”

Sam sighed. Now was not the time or the place to rehash this old argument. “I did listen … I just didn’t always agree. There’s a difference.” A shiver ran through Sam, the bare skin on his biceps already forming goosebumps. “Hey, let’s get you up …”

“Do we have to?”

“…and into this shirt.” Sam ignored Dean’s protest and positioned himself so that he could pull Dean up against him. Looking up into the concerned brown eyes of Tabitha, Sam gestured with his head to Dean’s other side. “You mind helping me.” He could already feel his ribs protesting, the biting cold wasn’t helping him feel any better.

“Sure.” Tabitha moved and positioned herself on the opposite side of Dean, looking awkward.

“He’s not going to bite.” Sam almost snapped, wrapping his fingers around Dean’s upper arm. “Just help lift him and I’ll do the rest.”

“It’s okay. I want to help.”

Sam nodded, grateful for the help and then concentrated on his shivering brother. Sam pulled Dean towards him as Tabitha got her hands underneath him and levered him up so that both had him sitting upright. Dean gave a shuddering groan and closed his eyes against the dizziness that the different altitude brought. Sam remained on his knees, sitting back on his legs and let Dean’s body lean in towards him, his brother’s head resting against his chest. Sam grunted at the light pressure of Dean against him.

“Sammy.” In true Dean fashion worry for Sam became his main concern. Sam looked down and saw his long eyelashes flicker apart again. Dean leaned his head back, his eyes searching Sam’s face. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, let’s just worry about you for a moment.”

“You … y-you’re hurt.”

Sam got to work trying to avoid Dean’s gaze and his questions. With Dean’s body being held up by his own, Sam used his freed hands to work Dean’s left arm through his shirt sleeve while Tabitha did the same for his right, both being mindful of the cuts on his forearms.

“It’s okay. I’m fine, I swear.” Sam’s shirt size was bigger than Dean’s own but it worked out well in this case. He began rubbing his hand up and down Dean’s arm to try and bring some warmth back.

“I’m … sorry, Sammy.”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing is your fault here.” Sometimes he felt like he could strangle Dean for always finding a way to blame himself for everything.

Tabitha was already moving to the front of Dean and doing up the shirt buttons before Sam even had to ask. He watched her hands shaking as she did each button.

“You weren’t … supposed to be h-hurt.” Dean’s eyes lowered, his head resting more against Sam’s chest so that Sam could only see the top of Dean’s head.

And there it was. Dean had been protecting him again. Sam loved his brother for it but he hated that it always ended with Dean getting hurt or worse. “I’m not that happy about you almost heading downstairs ahead of schedule either.”

“They killed her, Sam.”

This was new. Dean’s voice cracked a little as he spoke and Sam found himself looking up to Tabitha to see if she knew what the hell he was talking about.

“Who did they kill?”

“N…Nicole…”

Sam was confused. Who the hell was Nicole?

“There was a group of us here,” Tabitha explained shakily, sitting Indian style in front of Dean and looking at her lands in her lap. “It feels like we’ve been here for weeks, Ben and I. There were people here before we got here … they fed off them slowly over time.”

Sam nodded in understanding. He remembered Dean reading the research to him in the car as they followed their Dad’s truck the first time they had encountered Kate and her nest. Vampire’s usually kept people alive for weeks, bleeding them slowly. Dean had seemed disgusted when reading it and rightly so.

“They made her call someone. I’m guessing that was your brother. They … they practically ripped the poor girl apart.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Tabitha shrugged off Sam’s attempt at comfort but he could tell that she was far from alright over what she had seen. “Me and Ben were the only ones left after that ...” She didn’t finish her sentence but she didn’t need to.

“It’s … my fault.” Dean’s voice was breathless and reeked with self recrimination. “Got here too late.”

Sam frowned down at his brother, holding him a little bit tight. “You had no way of knowing, dude. Stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault.”

“They killed her as soon as she got off the phone,” Tabitha supplied and Sam gave her a thankful look before looking back down at his brother.

“See, dude, there was nothing you could have done. They were going to kill her anyway”

Tabitha shifted uncomfortably. “Uh … Sam?”

“Yeah?” Sam raised his eyebrows in question, still absentmindedly rubbing Dean’s arm.

“What are these things?”

Sam considered his answer a moment before finally speaking. “Vampires.” The truth was probably less believable but he went with it anyway.

“You mean people who think they are vampires right? Vampires don’t exist.”

Dean’s glazed expression shifted from Tabitha up to Sam. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. “Sammy …”

Sam was glad for the interruption. “Yeah, man?”

“There’s a girl here.”

“You just figure that out, huh?” Sam couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips at Dean’s delayed observation. “That’s Tabitha … Tabitha this is my brother Dean.” It felt stupid making introductions like they were at some stupid bar instead of in some stupid vampire’s lair.

“Hi …” Tabitha gave his brother an unsure smile and a little wave to which he reciprocated a lot less co-ordinated than she had.

Sam shivered in the cold, looking around him. He could still hear the rain beating down outside. He didn’t exactly want to leave Dean but the need to get up and check their surroundings was calling to him. He doubted there would be an easy escape but he needed to check anyway.

“How’s your throat, dude?”

Dean swallowed, brought his hand up slowly to his neck but it was intercepted by Sam’s hand.

“Don’t touch it, man.”

“Sick …fucking bastards,” Dean cursed, leaning more into Sam, unconsciously seeking more warmth. “I feel sick.”

“I know.” Sam rubbed his brothers back in soothing circles. “But don’t worry, alright. Bobby’s comin’.”

“Hopefully his rescue is more successful than yours,” Tabitha commented from her spot in front of Dean.

Dean cracked an eye open and Sam didn’t have to see his brothers face completely to know that he was frowning at her. “Dean…” Sam called trying to get his brothers attention back. “Hey I need to do a little recon. Will you be all right?”

“Go Sam.” Dean’s voice was breathless but there was conviction in it and it gave Sam hope. Lowering Dean to the ground once more Dean began shaking his head. “What is it?”

“I wanna … sit up.”

Instead of continuing Dean’s descent to the floor, Sam moved them both back a bit so that Dean’s back was now leaning against the cage wall. “This okay.”

“Terrific …” Dean assured him tiredly.

Dean wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to keep warm as Sam scooted back allowing the cage to take his brothers weight. Sam watched him for a moment, hating the minute shivers coursing through Dean’s body.

Standing up slowly, Sam bit his lip to hold back a gasp as the movement spiked pain through his torso. His ribs needed to be wrapped at least but they had nothing with which to do that so he was going to have to up with it. He kept his arm pressed to his side, making an automatic attempt to put pressure on the source of his discomfort.

Looking around, Sam walked over to the outer barn wall and ran the hand that wasn’t pressed to his body over the wood panelling there. He pushed against it, coming to the conclusion that it was strong. He began walking along the wall, looking up and then down to the bottom, looking for anything, anything that might show a weakness or an opportunity.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Tabitha asked coming to stand beside him as he made his trek around the cage.

“I’ll know it if I see it.” But he couldn’t see it. There was nothing, not one useful thing to help them to escape on their own but Sam’s mind didn’t want to admit to the fact. He’d finally found Dean but now there was nothing he could do to save him.

“Well?” Tabitha asked when they came back to the point Sam had started at. “We’re screwed aren’t we?”

Sam turned to look down at her. Now that they were both standing he could see how small she was. The top of her head only reached his chest. “We’re not screwed okay.”

Tabitha’s eyes watered again and she turned her head, not looking at Sam. “You didn’t see what they …

“I promise you.” Sam grabbed her by the shoulders once more, wincing at the pull it had on his damaged ribs. “We will get out of this.” He hoped that he could keep that promise.

Sam released Tabitha’s shoulders and turned back to his brother who from a distance looked dead. If it weren’t for the constant shivering Sam might have actually believed that he was. They were cutting it way too close.

Sam took a step back towards his brother but stopped dead in his tracks when the small door opened once again, vampires filing in. His heart pounded in his chest. He felt the disadvantage in his gut. He was trapped in a crazy vampires barn with Dean’s small dagger his only weapon.

Kate sauntered up to the cage, leaning close to be able to see inside and smiled in what Sam could only describe as gleeful anticipation. Sam swallowed hard, his anticipation not so gleeful.

“It’s Showtime, kids.”

xXx

Eye’s shielded by the brim of his cap; Bobby stood on the embankment and watched for a moment as the red van rumbled on back down the road, fading out in the darkness and rain.

At first he hadn’t seen the Impala. It had been hard enough seeing anything through the teeming rain but knowing that Sam would have hidden the Impala. It gave Bobby a place to start looking. A glint off the Impala’s windscreen when the van’s lights hit it had alerted Bobby to its presence and he had almost opened the door then and there before Carl had brought the van to a stop.

Payed up and thanked Carl had been sent on his way and Bobby was left standing by the side of the road, his duffle in hand already soaked through. Blowing out through his lips Bobby sprayed water out that was collecting on his lips and beard and then carefully made is way down the muddy embankment towards the Impala.

Tree branches kept hitting the sides with the force of the wind blowing them around and Bobby knew that Dean would notice if there were any scratches in the paint. The boy seemed to have an eye for that car, finding things that even Sam and Bobby couldn’t see unless they really looked.

He headed to the back and quickly broke into the trunk. It was an emergency and he really didn’t care whether Dean had an issue with it.

Bobby had brought the bare minimum with him weapon wise because it was hard to carry weapons on a plane but also because he knew he would be meeting up with the boys and they carried an arsenal big enough for the three of them.

He picked up the spare machete sitting haphazardly in the weapons cache, tied its sheaf to his belt and then picked up a 9mm. It wouldn’t do much good against a vampire but he felt better having it on him anyways.

The sound of a twig snapping managed to get through the sound of the rain and the wind and Bobby was instantly on alert, closing the trunk and looking around, eyes slits to try and improve his vision through the harsh conditions.

Who he really wanted to see right now, was the boys. They weren’t back at the Impala and Bobby was worried what that meant. He gazed into the trees and bushes, more than anything hoping to see the familiar shape of Sam and/or Dean but nothing seemed to be there.

He began to think that he had imagined it when a flash of something caught in his peripheral. Bobby’s head whipped to the side and he felt a hint of panic sting him. Taking the machete out and holding it in front of him Bobby tensed and readied himself to defend himself.

A woman walked out from behind the trees. Her long wet dark hair was blowing like crazy in the wind and as she approached he could see the paleness of her skin … fucking vampires.

“Aww Dammit.” He hadn’t thought he would be found out so quickly and from the looks of things he was outnumbered. Things didn’t look good but Bobby would be damned if he was going down without a fight.

He glanced around him at the others surrounding him. It was hard to tell in the dark how many there were but he doubted he was getting out of this as a winner.

A male vampire stepped forward, all in blue denim and placed his arm out in front of the female stopping her from getting any closer and Bobby tightened his hold on the machete and cocked his head to the side.

“Don’t get too close.”

Hand on the male’s arm, the female kept her eyes on Bobby as she spoke. “Its okay, Eli.”

“It’s far from okay, lady. What the hell have you done with those boys?” Bobby growled, waiting for one of them to make a move, feeling even more unsettled that no-one had.

TBC ...

---

So ... is Bobby in trouble?

We are really on the home stretch now :) I really hope you enjoyed this read and I will be back in no longer than 2 weeks (sooner if I have my way but I know what my life is like lately lol) ohh and I have started up a LiveJournal page now. Not that it matter but I thought I would let people know that I am rambling over there now.

http : / / lovinjackson . livejournal . com / --(join it all together)

Hope you are all having an awesome weekend and I will see you soon :)

Tara x0x