AN: This here is yet another request for a lovely fan named double-0-nothing. The prompt was, "Sam, Dean and John are on a hunt together, (weechester) And the spirt takes Sam - Because it likes feeding off kids or something - And Dean has to find him, while Sam is being tortured." Anyone who knows me can imagine how I jumped on this story. I thank double-0-nothing for their patience, because I was almost unbearably busy for a very long time, but at last the story is ready! Story and chapter titles from a Three Days Grace song, Nothing's Far in Love and War.

"It's not fair, Dad!" Sam shouted.

"Life's not fair, Sammy, so you better start getting used to it." John snapped back.

"Dean started hunting when he was ten, how come I can't?"

"Because you aren't Dean."

Sam scoffed. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Watch your tone with me, Sam. This is exactly why you don't get to come on hunts. You always question my orders. Your brother doesn't do that, and that might just save his life out there."

"But, Dad-"

"I said 'no,' Sam, and that's final. You stay at home and research, and you get to start hunting when I think you're ready."

Sam's tiny hands balled up into fists, face turning red from frustration, and then he stormed off into his room, more than grateful that they'd found a place with separate rooms and slammable doors. And slam he did.

"Dean, go talk some sense into your brother." John instructed.

Peering up over the comic book he was reading, Dean fell into semper fi mode, and hopped off the couch. "Yes, Sir."

"See if he can figure out what we're hunting."

"But- we already know it's a-"

"I'm aware, Dean. If Sammy can figure out what it is, then I'll take him with us."

Dean's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Don't tell him though. When he screws up it'll just make him more upset."

Shifting slightly, Dean couldn't manage to hold his tongue this time. "If."

"What?" John asked.

"If Sammy screws up." Dean corrected. Sammy was smart, and Dean was confident that he'd figure it out. With the remark made, Dean went off to Sam's room.

Dean knocked on the door.

"Go away." He heard the understandably grouchy voice from the other side of the door.

"It's me, Sammy."

There was shuffling, and then a lock clicked. Dean was greeted with Sammy's too long hair hiding his eyes. "What do you want?"

"Need your help." Dean said as he pushed by his little brother, and leapt onto his bed. "Trying to figure out what we're hunting."

"Why don't you ask dad? He apparently knows everything." Sam huffed.

"Dammit, Sammy, I'm trying to help you." "C'mon, Sammy, prove him wrong. What do you think we're hunting?"

Plopping down beside Dean on the bed, Sam crossed his arms and stared down in thought. "I don't know." He said.

"Don't give up." "Sure you do. Remember how all those bodies looked."

Sam's lips pursed as he began to process everything. "Hearts were left intact, so- that rules out werewolf."

"Good start. Keep going."

"Signs of torture, but... Bite marks, which means the thing was hungry. Not a shapeshifter."

"Thatta boy. Almost there."

"They were kind of neat though..."

"What? Neat? No, Sammy, no!"

"Rules out Wendigo, so- it's probably a ghost or ghoul. Then again, ghouls don't usually go for the living, so... Ghost. Definitely a ghost."

Sighing, Dean shook his head, "No, Sammy. It's a Wendigo."

Sam straightened up, head snapping over to Dean. "What?"

"It's a Wendigo."

"If you already knew that then what the hell did you ask me for?!"

"Calm down, I just wanted to know if you could figure it out."

"Well I guess not. I'm just some dumb, stupid kid that can't hunt, or even come up with the right, stupid monster."

"I never said-"

"Screw you, Dean! Just go to your damn hunt already, and leave me alone!"

Stubborn as dad. Of course. Dean knew that at this point that there was no reason to stick around. Sam had guessed wrong, he wasn't allowed to come on the hunt.

But- he had brought up a good point. Were the bodies neat? Wendigoes weren't usually clean eaters, which meant maybe dad was wrong about the hunt. If he was, maybe Sammy would be able to come on the hunt after all.

Not that Dean really wanted Sam to start hunting though. A hunter's life was a screwed up one, not one that Dean would ever want his baby brother getting involved with.

Part of Dean was proud that Sammy looked up to him like that though. He wanted to be like his big brother, which Dean couldn't really be mad at him for. But still, it hurt to see the kid so upset.

But if he couldn't figure it out, maybe he still did need to wait before he started hunting. Although Dean decided that he should talk to John, make sure that they did have all their facts straight.

"Hey, Dad?" Dean asked.

"He get it right?" John immediately asked.

"No." Dean admitted with disappointment. "But he brought up a good point. He said the vics' bodies were neat. Wendigoes usually don't care about being gentle with their meals."

"Who do you trust more, Dean? You ten year old brother, or me?"

Dammit, Dad, don't do this. "I just mean, maybe we-"

"The reason your brother has to stay home is because he questions me. Unless you want to join him, I suggest you start listening to me."

Dean sighed. "Yes, Sir."

"Pack your things. We leave at sundown."

It was far from fair, but that was Dean Winchester's life. Shut down for asking questions, even more so when John was in a bad mood, which seemed to be the case today. Dean didn't really blame him though, not with November 2nd approaching so quickly, always a difficult time for everyone. It was clear why John was so eager to leave the house and kill something.

Sundown finally came, and Dean had checked on Sammy and said his goodbyes, even though Sam was less than enthusiastic, offering no more than a grunt slash huff to Dean's farewell.

"Your day's coming, kid." Dean thought hopefully. "You'll be hunting right along with us real soon."

Pretty soon, Sam was going to find himself a lot more involved with this hunt than anyone ever would have hoped...

Screw Dad. And Dean. Screw his entire freaking life! It was always, "Stay at home, Sammy," or, "Not this time, Sammy," or, "You're just not ready yet, Sammy."

His name was 'Sam.' And he was damn sick of always being nothing more than researching, incapable, always too little Sammy.

It's not like dad or Dean were always right anyway. Like right now. The hunt was not a freaking Wendigo. A Wendigo does not leave behind neat bodies. Hell, it hardly ever leaves anything except the bones!

But if dad wasn't willing to listen to him and admit he was wrong, thus walking headfirst into a hunt ill-prepared, then he'd eventually end up having to call his incompetent, little Sammy. That'd show him.

Looks like he better start researching. Okay, neat bodies meant it's something vaguely intelligent, and there weren't too many intelligent monsters out there. Shifters maybe, but unless they started snacking on humans for kicks, it wasn't their monster. Could be a rogue ghoul, but most likely it was some kind of spirit.

So, Sam began to research, which honestly was a lot easier than he thought it'd be. Local paranormal investigators had started pointing fingers at a supposed ghost of a cannibal from decades ago.

Normally, paranormal investigators didn't know jack squat when it came to actual ghost hunting, but they might be able to give some kind of a lead.

Digging a little deeper, Sam discovered a legend surrounding an old member of the town named Brian Blanncia. Supposedly, he killed people at random, and then had himself a little snack on the leftovers,

Freaking people.

Woods had been closed due to the rumours, but kids had started sneaking in, probably the cause of Brian's return.

Ha. He knew it. John was wrong, and Sam was right. What would be even better was if Sam called him and left a message just to prove how ahead of John he was. It was time John realised that his son was just as smart as him. So Sam called him up, grinning to himself just a little bit as it went to John's voicemail.

He continued scrolling through Brian's history as he relayed all his information to his dad. Where he killed, why he killed, even where he was buried.

But then he saw a line on Brian's page that nearly stopped his heart.

"Upon capturing and questioning, Blanncia revealed his love for eating children rather than adults, claiming that he could 'taste their innocence.'"

Dean!

His brother was out there, and he had no idea! If Brian really had a preference for children, it meant his brother was in trouble!

Forget gloating to John, Sam had to save Dean. But God knows how long it would be before John so much as looked at his phone. Hell, by then it would probably already be too late!

Sam knew where Brian was buried. And John had left their ghost-hunting gear at home. It would be defiance beyond his normal standard, hell, maybe beyond the point of forgiveness, but Dean had always damned the rules when it meant keeping Sam safe.

So now, Sam was about to return the favour.

Gathering up a salt-filled shotgun and a shovel, Sam was ready. He swallowed, because even Dean had never gone up against any kind of monster on his own. Sam- Sam knew he could die out there.

If this really was to be his end, he had to say something, some type of goodbye.

No, a goodbye wasn't what his family needed to hear from him.

He picked up the forgotten phone, and whispered into it. "Dad... Dean... I'm sorry."

And with that said, he was off.

AN: I don't actually hate John, and this story isn't meant to make him appear to be a d-bag completely, so sorry if it seems to be that way right now. Next update will be tomorrow, and the last chapter will be on Wednesday before the new ep. I know, regular updates from me again. It's nice isn't it? Whilst on the topic of next chapter, you guessed it-

Sneak Peek: "'Dad, please, what happened to Sam?'

'He's being a hero.'

In the Winchester's dictionary, 'hero' was synonymous with 'idiot.'"

Lotta crap happens next chapter, and angst all around. Mmm, my favourite. Drop and review, and I shall see y'all tomorrow!