This missing scene is for my beta, Red Hardy. I know I have already done this same scene but after she beta'd it, she made a personal request for it done in a bit of different light - and so, for what it is worth, here it is.

Again. It fits in that commercial pocket between Sam's vision and the motel room... Enjoy! Let me know what you think.

And Winchesterhaunt - I think we were on the same wave length for a bit - scary huh? For Sammy that is... :P

Insight

"Where's your brother?" John barked in Dean's ear when Dean answered his cell phone.

The Winchesters had broken up to cover the three medical facilities in Salvation, scouring medical records in an effort to determine which baby might be the demon's intended target. Although Dean had dropped his brother off, their father was supposed to pick the younger boy up.

'Damnit Sammy," Dean thought even as he said, "I dunno… he's not there?" 'Can't you, for once, try not to piss him off?' He pulled the cell phone away from his ear at his father's loud and angry retort.

"Do you think I'd really be wasting my time asking you, if he was? God dammnit, Dean! We don't have time for this!" John was steamed. What was it with that boy?

"Okay. Okay," Dean placated as he tried to mentally remember the layout of the small town. It was something the Winchesters did by habit – as soon as they hit a place, they devoured a map in order to get a good idea of the area.

The facility he had dropped his brother off at was south of where he was, and north of his father. Almost smack dab in the middle of the older hunters – though definitely closer to John at the moment.

His father was speaking again before Dean could offer the same suggestion. "Work your way towards me – between the two of us, we should be able to find him. God damnit it all," John cursed again, "Why'd he leave? I was perfectly clear! What part of 'wait outside for me', didn't he get?"

Dean winced at the anger in his father's voice but didn't say anything. As much as he wanted to make an excuse for Sam, he really had none to offer and was not ready to put the match on his father's simmering anger by saying something like 'I'm sure he had a good reason.' Nope. That would be his little brother's match to toss… once they found him.

A tendril of uneasiness wound itself around his stomach as he ended the call and tossed his phone on the empty passenger seat beside him. He just hoped nothing had happened to his brother…

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

John revved the truck into gear and squealed away from the public building. He kept a sharp look out for his son, his anger at the boy simmering hotly as he wondered why the kid seemed insistent on butting heads with him over everything. Though this latest stunt took the cake, thought the infuriated father.

Sam begged John not to treat him and Dean like children anymore, but to trust them and respect them as equals – or at the very least contenders – and, after what happened with the vampires, John had begrudgingly come to realize that maybe what his son was saying had some merit.

Acknowledging that, he finally realized that Dean was right. They were stronger as a family, and so they would fight this battle together; no longer as a father and his sons, but as skilled hunters, side by side, each having earned his rightful place in this fight… and then Sam had to go and pull crap like this…

"Shit," John slammed his hand against the steering wheel in frustration, hating the time he had to spend looking for his errant child when they should be regrouping at the motel and going over what they'd found. They did not have time for this and Sam knew that.

Out of the corner of his eye, John recognized the hunched over figure of his younger son standing in a field and slammed on the brakes, bringing the powerful truck to a fishtailing stop.

"Sam?" he yelled across to the figure. The boy had his back to him and either didn't hear his father or was ignoring him. In his agitated state, the angry hunter decided he was being ignored.

Getting out of the truck and slamming the door shut, John stalked towards his son. "Jesus Christ boy," he growled as he got closer, " what the-" whatever he was going to say was forgotten in the pain filled groan that he heard as Sam suddenly pitched forward, his hands fisting tightly in his dark hair.

John lurched forward and barely caught his son, lowering him down until Sam was kneeling in the field, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing labored.

The older man kept his hands on the boy's shoulders, supporting the almost deadweight and knowing the kid would be on the ground if he let go. His stomach clenched as he felt the trembling beneath his hands and heard little gasps of pain.

"Sammy?" All trace of anger was gone from John's voice as he tried to look in his son's face but it was hard to see anything past the agonized grimace – something was wrong.

John's heart rammed against his chest as a sick feeling crept up his spine. Something was hurting his son. "Sammy?" he pressed again. "What's wrong?"

The boy didn't even seem to realize he was there and that scared his father more than he cared to admit. What kind of spirit or demon was doing this?

Glancing around, the hunter saw nothing but knew that could be deceptive.

Returning his attention to his son, John gave him a gentle shake. "Come on Sammy… talk to me, boy… I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." He tried to keep his voice calm sounding but it was almost impossible. John Winchester could withstand almost anything except seeing one of his boy's in pain…

Sam's only response was an agonized whisper, "Please…" and it tore his father's heart. His proud young son was begging.

"Damnit," he cursed not used to feeling so helpless. Sam was hurting. Something was causing him pain and John had no idea what it was or what to do.

The sound of a car stopping on the road shifted John's gaze as his body tensed in anticipation of trouble. He shifted slightly putting himself between his son and whatever threat this might be without letting go of the boy. And then he exhaled loudly with relief – it was Dean.

ooooooOOOOOOoooooo

Dean stared for a moment in dumb shock at what he saw. His father and Sam were crouched down in a field. It looked their dad was holding his brother up – he couldn't get a look at Sam's face at first but then John shifted and all the blood drained out of Dean's face.

Shit. He recognized the agonized look on his brother's face. Sam was having another vision.

Immediately, he was bolting from the car and hurrying towards them, barely noticing how pale his father's face was as he realized John probably had no idea what was going on.

"Dean-" John started, but Dean cut him off with a shake of his head.

"Not here Dad," he said quietly, gently forcing one of Sam's arms so that he could loop it around his shoulder as he slipped a hand around his brother's waist.

"Come on Sammy," Dean coaxed as his father moved to support Sam on the other side and, together, they hoisted the semi-conscious younger boy to his feet; holding tight as Sam swayed. "We gotta go."

Together Dean and John walked – well mostly carried – the almost unresponsive boy to the Impala, carefully lowering him onto the front passenger seat. "We'll see you at the motel," Dean said as he buckled his brother in and then got in on the driver's side.

With a curt nod, John moved towards his own truck. His heart was still racing and he had no idea what had just happened, but by the unfazed way Dean had just dealt with his brother, the man had no doubts his older son would have some answers.

Somehow, though, he knew he was not going to like them…

And he was right.

His son was having visions.

Shit.

The End.