Disclaimer: - I don't own Dean, John and *cough* Sam Winchester and oh, 'Hollywood Knights' team *Damnit*

Rating: - K+

A/N 1:- Thanks to my beta Vonnie, she is a sweetheart.

A/N 2:- Special thanks to my wonderful friend "Mizpah" for her awesome tweaks. Thanks Jules. You're awesome.


POWER SURGE


"Logan, are you sure about them?" The burly man in his mid thirties fidgeted slightly. He tucked his gun in his waistband and looked at the gagged and tied up kids in front of him. The three teens were bound with manacles on their wrists and ankles and lying in a heap one on top of the other; seemingly unconscious. It looked like someone had thrown them carelessly in a heap like a pile of luggage. There were two boys and a girl; all badly beaten.

The man called Logan was sitting on a chair, smoking; his cold glare fixed on his reluctant buddy. His face was contorted with anger and annoyance, as the other one asked him about those children. He snarled and took a swig of whiskey. "What! Are you doubting me?" He angrily unfolded his crossed leg and leaned slightly forward. "They are not just kids Brad, they are nothing better than hell spawn demonic sons of b*tches. We should smite them as soon as we can."

"But…" Brad seemed to be hesitating. He rubbed an uneasy hand against his stubbled face. Stealing a quick sympathetic glance towards those tied, beaten and unconscious kids once again, he continued, "…but they are barely adults and as far I know, they haven't done anything to be executed for." He swallowed, "I mean…"

Brad's voice cut off abruptly as Logan punched the wooden table with intensified rage and stood up. The chair toppled behind him with a loud thud. Logan scrunched his face with utter disgust and threw his half-burned cigarette at his foot. Brad stepped back a little as his furious buddy advanced on him.

"You don't mean anything. You know what these crazy kids can do, don't you?"

"I…I…" Brad's voice faltered and his breath hitched as Logan grabbed his jacket's collar and shook him not so gently.

"These are the psychic kids and they have super powers, you got that now Brad!" He fiercely whispered with clenched teeth. "These are the psychos, who gonna stand up at hell's side, they gonna kill us - the whole frigging human kind. Don't you remember, what Gordon Walker warned us of? These kids are walking time bombs. When their time comes, they'll explode and destroy everything. Do you think they're worth saving?"

Brad's head bobbed with each jerking. He licked his lips and gently pried Logan's hands off his collar, before pacing uncoordinatedly for a few moments, raking his fingers through his short hair. "But we are hunters for freak's sake, not murderers. And Gordon is a bastard you know. He will do anything to make his own profit on account of us, or anybody."

Logan exhaled loudly, before continuing, "Look, Brad, I know what you're thinking. Yes, we are hunters, but they are…" He pointed towards the kids, "…they are monsters. They are freaks, who can kill us without batting an eyelid. Sure they look innocent, but underneath these human vessels, they are cold blooded hell spawns. If we don't smite these diseases from the world, it will spread faster than we could imagine. The whole world, mankind will be destroyed. Do you want that?"

"No…" the other hunter still couldn't fathom what was right or wrong. Yes, he could understand what his hunter buddy wanted to say, but after seeing at the faces of those kids, he could not believe that they would kill anyone in cold blood. And he certainly didn't believe in Gordon Walker.

Seeing the hesitation clearly showing in his friend's eyes, Logan sighed exasperatedly. "Okay. So you need hard proof. Alright then, I am giving you hard proof." Without wasting a second he strode to where the kids were laying and unmercifully yanked the girl by grabbing her jacket collar. With this sudden jolt the kid regained consciousness and started whimpering through her gag. Tears were falling like miniature torrents down her cheeks, as her eyes were begging for mercy. But it was like cry in the wilderness to the heartless hunter. The girl stumbled as the hunter shoved her, falling to her knees.

"Logan…" Again Brad had to halt, when Logan shut him down.

"You see, this kid has got electrical boost in her hands." He smirked in satisfaction when Brad's eyes became wide, "…and whenever she touches anyone, they get electrocuted." Taking a good look at his friend's shocked expression, he smirked humorlessly. "Wanna see a little experiment, my friend?"

Logan did not wait for an answer. He quickly tugged off the gloves the girl was wearing and grabbed her cuffed wrist tightly. The poor girl again whimpered breathlessly and tried to squirm. But the burly hunter's granite grip didn't allow for even the slightest movement.

"Now touch her hand, would you? Touch her and tell me if you feel something or not." Logan challenged his friend.

Brad was completely dumbfounded, didn't know what to do. He didn't want to believe that a cute little girl would have this kind of supernatural powers, but no doubt he was afraid. He was afraid, if he got electrocuted, then…

Without warning Logan grabbed his right arm and thrust it against the girl's hand. Brad's head jerked back and he screamed as a jolt of pure electricity coursed through his hand. He quickly snatched his arm back and shook it, the limb still trembling with the aftershock.

"Don't do that again," He barked at the other man as he continued to shake the tremors off his still vibrating arm.

Logan smirked at his friend's erratic attitude and pushed the girl down to the floor. He came close to Brad and took his electrocuted hand into his own. "See how dangerous they are, and could be in future. This is only the beginning. Their powers have just started to develop. When they grow up more and turn into adults, their powers will be uncontrollable." He pulled a knife from his jacket and checked its sharpness by drawing blood with his fingertip. "We should kill them before they get their final juice."

"Wait, Logan. You just can't slit her throat. She is just a kid. If she gets control over her powers…" He looked at the girl, who was still trembling in utmost fear of getting ganked by this psycho killer.

"No, she won't." Logan almost growled, "You saw her, how did she shock you? You could've died. Why don't you understand?"

'She didn't shock me, you did' Brad thought wryly, but muttered only one word, "But…"

"No BUTS…she's an abomination. A supernatural freak and I will kill her and eventually every freak I can find. And you…" He screamed like a psychotic patient, "…you will help me to finish this job. After I gather all the crazy freaks like her, I will make a trophy with their decapitated heads."

Without warning, he quickly pushed the sharp blade against the girl's throat and within a fraction of second slit it with one swift motion.

Brad gasped, staggering back as the inhumane scenario played out before his eyes. The poor girl let out a muffled gurgle before her body fell lifelessly to the wooden floor. Rivulets of blood flowed from her gaping throat, her dead eyes staring at the ceiling as the crimson fluid pooled around her head.

"One down…" The psycho hunter announced proudly and wiped the blood-smeared knife on his sleeve, "…countless to go." And let out a blood-curdling laugh.


Thump.

Thump.

The neon orange basketball was dribbling up and down in a slow but steady manner. A lean but strong hand was controlling it, expressive blue-green eyes scanning the whole game room. One basket left to go; only five minutes left and he was surrounded by every single player of the opposing team. He moved his head a little and got an almost invisible nod from his co-player. Taking a deep refreshing breath, he steadied himself for the most important yet almost impossible shot.

As the coach whistled, he started running with the dribbling ball; the other players catching up with him. He was dodging them like a wildcat, leaving them breathless. But a few opposition players had cornered him, so he couldn't pass through them to his destined point.

"Sam, over here!" The other team mate hollered at him and gestured for him to throw the ball.

Without wasting any more precious seconds, Sam threw the ball to his teammate and ran towards the basket. 'Only 3 minutes left Winchester, everyone is counting on you,' Sam mentally counted as he passed the other players.

Scott, the other player who was currently dribbling the ball, ran faster but he knew he couldn't make it down to the basket in time. Other players were chasing him and there were only two minutes left. He quickly registered that Sam was almost near the basket and if he could just pass the ball again to him, Sam would surely get the shot.

Sam changed direction slightly, running to meet the ball that Scott tossed towards him.

Suddenly a piercing pain shot through his head, momentarily blinding him. He gasped audibly as a blazing white light flared in front of his eyes and his world tilted on its axis. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his vision, 'What was that? No time for a freaking migraine,' He thought, gasping, and clenched his teeth against the excruciating pain. He saw the ball coming towards him, moving as if in slow motion, and somehow managed to jump up in time to catch it.

"Yes, Winchester. Good catch, yes, yes…" His coach's cheerful but somehow tense voice filled the whole game room. Coach Adams knew only Sam could put the ball into the basket. Sam was one of the best players and captain of his dream 'Hollywood Knights' basketball team. He always selected number one players but among them---Sam was just the best. He had never seen anyone as quick and graceful as that boy. He could not help but be amazed that the tall, shy, lean but well built boy could manage this kind of skill along with his study. Yes, Sam was also the top rated student of his class and the coach, along with most of the other teachers, were sure that the boy would be the valedictorian of this year.

Sam tried to focus on the ball, but the intense pain in his head didn't let him. Grimacing, he squeezed his eyes closed as another white flash obscured his vision

Flash- a girl was running- flash- a dark figure chasing her- the girl screams- flash-

"Ahhhhhhh Godd…" Sam screamed but his voice went unheard because of the shouting and cheering. As soon those flashes came, they dissipated instantly.

Sam realized that he was still clutching the ball and the rival players were advancing on him in slow motion. He knew he had to reach the basket or else their hope to reach the final tournament would be dashed. Trying to ignore the blazing pain in his head, he rushed towards the goal point.

"One minute left Winchesterrr…" Coach's voice sounded to Sam like it was coming from underwater.

He gasped.

'Help me…pleeeeeeease…somebody…' The helpless girl's frantic scream was deafening him.

He ran.

"Sam…Sam…Sam…Sammmmm…" The roaring chant from the crowd drummed inside his head, almost driving him to his knees with its intensity.

Suddenly someone jumped on him and they tripped, landing hard enough to drive the breath from Sam's lungs. Sam blinked a couple of times to focus his blurred vision, finally making out the face of 'big bad' Freddy from Parkrose High School grinning down at him. The rival 'Whitebulls' team member pinned him to the ground and pried the ball from his shaking hands.

"Nnoooooo…" the crowd shouted.

31 seconds left.

Flash- the girl screamed as someone slit her throat- 'Nnnoooo'-and someone laughed- flash-

"Nooooo…" Sam screamed and forced his eyes staring at his opponent.

"Your team is finished Winchester…" Freddy smirked, and Sam saw the boy's whole face undulating in front of his eyes like he was looking through a shimmering heat haze.

'Sammmm…' the whole team and crowd roared.

"Stop it."

'Winchester, 20 seconds left…we are losing' Coach Adam's frantic shout came out of nowhere.

"Noo…" Sam cried aloud.

'Help me…' the hostage girl's screams again rushed in his head.

'Your team is finished Winchester…'

'Help me…'

"Winchester…go…"

"Sam…Sam… Sammmm…"

'Your team is finished…'

'Help me…'

"STTTTOOOOOOOOOPPPPP ITTTTT…" Sam let out a guttural scream and shot his hands forward.

It all happened in a flash. One second Freddy was holding the ball and getting up off Sam's chest, and in the next he was suddenly thrown back hard, grunting in pain as he landed. The ball flew from his hand and was tossed upward.

"Sam, catch the ball…Sammmm…" The other teammates and Coach cried in chorus.

'10 seconds…'

'9 seconds…'

'Your team is finished Winchester…'

Despite the agonizing pain, Sam shot up and ran backwards to catch the ball.

'7 seconds…'

Sam caught the ball.

"Ohhhh…" A humming chorus came again from the audience as they all stood up in extreme agitation and nervousness.

'5 seconds…'

"We're losing it…"

"It's impossible to basket the ball. Sam's too far away from the net…" Coach's frustrated voice faltered.

'Help me…'

Suddenly Sam threw the ball towards the basket, gathering his entire force and aiming it at the net. The ball was running with an unnatural speed, much faster than it should be…

'3 seconds…'

The ball crashed into the wall just above the net with a loud thump…

'2 seconds…'

'1 sec…'

-

-

-

"Yeeeeaaaahhhh…" just before the time up alarm buzzed, the ball dropped into the basket and everyone screamed. The players, coach and audience still could not believe just what had happened before their very eyes. When they all lost hope that Gresham High School's team would win, Sam Winchester had done it. He managed to basket the ball in the eleventh hour and 'Hollywood Knights' won an unexpected victory.

Speaking of Sam…

Caught up in the ecstasy of winning, the whole school and team had forgotten about their ultimate hero, who had sunk to his knees on the field, his head dropping to his chest. His hands were now hanging limply at his sides. Long chocolate brown bangs shielded the upper half of his face. His chest was heaving as he took shallow ragged breaths.

Suddenly Sam was jolted back into awareness as hands grabbed his arms and legs. His team mates and friends had descended upon him. Caught up in the joy of celebrating their victory, they hoisted their hero and leader aloft and tossed him into the air.

Sam's head spun as he became airborne. Those white flashes and the girl's screams were still replaying in his brain, the images and sound so intense that he could not breathe—could not speak. He wanted to tell his friends to stop tossing him like he was a basket ball himself, but no words issued from his dry mouth. He was feeling so lethargic after 'that sudden outburst and shoving Freddy without touching'. 'What was that? What's happening with me? Who was screaming?' His head was throbbing like crazy, feeling as if it was going to explode anytime soon. As his body was tossed upwards again, he vaguely felt a warm thick liquid start dripping from his nose and thousands of white lights burst before his eyes.

"Coach, something is wrong," Sarah, one of Sam's classmates finally noticed that Sam was unusually quiet during this ministration. The way his long limbs jerked boneless with each tossing and catching session, it looked like they were tossing a rag-doll instead of a human body. And most shocking to the girl was that Sam wasn't even responding. "Something's wrong with Sam." She pointed a finger towards the gang.

Coach Adams jolted in shock as he took in the way Sam's body hung limply in his teammates' grasp. One quick look at the boy's lolling head told the man instantly that something was definitely wrong. "Oh my god," he screamed and ran to the group, "Put him down, boys! Put Sam down on the ground, quick!"

The boys who, were playing with Sam suddenly realized that something was wrong with their buddy. "Oh my God, Sam," they frantically chorused. as they carefully put him down on the hard indoor playground. Sam's face was deathly pale, crimson liquid still flowing from his nose and smearing all over his right cheek. His eyes were tightly closed and he was struggling to breathe.

"Sam? Sam, open your eyes, boy!" The coach crouched beside the unconscious boy and tapped his cheek gently. After getting no response from Sam, he shouted at the anxious group,

"Call a doctor, quick."


TBC


*Coughs-coughs* Ahem- sorry, that cliffie's really left me breathless. So, want me to continue or should I……………………………………………………………………………………………..Trash it!

Let me know and you know how to do it.