hey everyone. i am still working on 'By the Wayside' dont worry, but this is a story that has been bouncing around in my mind and driving me crazy for months now, so i figured i would try and give it a shot. it takes place around the same time as Shadow Stalker and By the Wayside,(about a year after the accident) but it doesnt refer to either. let me know what you think of the Teaser, and if you want more.

D: i dont work for supernatural, though i think that would be fun.

SOMETHING LOST

Chapter 1

The night grew heavy around the solitary figure, the man moving quietly through the deepening dusk as the world around him slowly fell off into the silence of the hour. The old building stood out against the gloomy world, as the shadowy silhouette made its way around the corner, boots crunching softly against the packed gravel parking lot. Everything over the past week had been one long and draining blur of life, loss and fear. And Sam Winchester wasn't sure just how much more he could take.

The hunt had been a simple salt and burn, something that both he and his brother should have been able to do in their sleep. The ghost of Jeremy Swan had been haunting the local grade school, where he died of an asthma attack, stuffed in a locker over thirty years ago. It was a stupid prank that had gone too far, but try telling that to the angry spirit of a twelve year old. Ever since an addition had taken the place of the sixth grade hall young Jeremy had been locking up those he believed to be 'bullies' starving them of air, hiding them away over long weekends. It had been gruesome, the victims all children themselves, and as bad as Sam felt for the small child it had to be stopped.

The coordinates had come from Bobby, and Sam couldn't escape the pain that filled his heart every time his phone chimed. Both Sam and Dean had been a mess after the accident, and the months that followed were the most trying of Sam's life. But finally, after four months they had managed to come together as a family again, their twisted lives taking on some semblance, even if it was just an echo, of their former lives. So he and his brother went to the small town of Winchester, Wyoming, ironically enough, to put the small spirit to rest.

But then, Sam thought as he crept around the small motel, the building strangely dark and desolate, they were the Winchesters, when was anything ever easy. The salt and burn, that was a snap, but there was a snag, a deviation in the plan that neither brother had been prepared for. The small child, innocent little Jeremy, had apparently not been so innocent after all, at least not in death, because, as soon as his small soul vanished, a much larger one took its place.

And so, the hunt for Dean Winchester had begun. And, Sam thought, all his strength aimed at keeping his breathing easy and frayed nerves as controlled as he could, hopefully this is where the hunt would end. The youngest Winchester had barely the time to react as the malevolent poltergeist ripped his older brother away from him, pulled Dean back into the night so fast, that is took several long seconds for Sam to even realize he was gone. And, moments after, he realized nothing as a blast the young man wouldn't soon forget, ripped into the back of his skull, sending him to the ground in an unconscious heap. And by the time he had awoken it was daylight, and Dean was long gone.

That was seven days ago, exactly a week, and Sam was beside himself. The first three days of his brother's disappearance were a blur to him, his mind foggy, senses dulled as his imagination played over every possible future that lay before the broken man, each one sadly absent of Dean. He had been his rock, his constant, his big brother, his protector, and now he had been lost to the night, gone in a gust of wind.

Sam then spent the next three days hunting the entire state of Wyoming, searching for his missing brother, spending hours upon hours on the computer, questioning the locals, and refusing to give up on his big brother. But, while everything seemed to give him a strange sense of deja vu, try as he might, there was no sign of his brother at all. That was until yesterday when Sam had received an anonymous text message pointing him to the small motel just our side of the city of Valley a few hundred miles to the west. The very same motel he had finally driven up to only a few moments ago.

The place was part of a rundown truck stop, the highway passing the nearly forgotten city having long since fallen into neglect as larger, superhighways took its place. The town itself was nestled in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains on the boarders of Yellowstone National Park, and if Sam had felt a little deja vu before, it was now nearly beating him over the head. He knew this place, those streets, that town, knew it from somewhere he couldn't remember. It was like the place had existed somewhere on the very edge of his memory, just barely holding onto its place in his mind, and he was sure that even just one more memory would dispel it. The town was forgotten, one could tell just by looking at it, and Sam couldn't understand why it seemed so overwhelmingly memorable to him.

He pushed that all out of his mind though as he finally made his way to room nine, the very room that had been given in the mysterious text. Sam knew it may be a trap, but he also knew that it may be his brother's only chance, and that wasn't something he was going to ignore. He didn't know who had sent the message and at that moment he didn't care, all he wanted was his brother, all he wanted to do was save his protector. He was prepared, his senses on alert, white knuckles gripping his shotgun, eyes keen and searching, taking in everything around him, making sure he was ready for anything and everything that came his way.

Except, that is, for what actually did come his way. There, taped to the door just below the handle was a small piece of paper, the letters S.W. written neatly across the front. Sam felt his stomach clench as his palms grew sweaty. 'What the hell was going on?' He reached out with trembling hands, pulling the letter from its sealed white envelope.

'You owe me one... K'

Sam stared long and hard at the small sheet of paper in his hand, turning it over again and again, searching for something else, an explanation, hell, even just another sentence. But there was nothing, just those four small words, and the initial 'K'. He could feel his body go ridged as he looked back at the locked door, suddenly completely unprepared for what he may find. He had been expecting a ghost, or a demon, or some other evil trickster that had decided to use his brother as bait. What he hadn't been expecting, and what, in truth, he learned long ago not to hope for, was help. Help from someone the was not his father or brother. Yes, he knew there were other hunters out there, now. But, as a child, that was something John made sure that he kept them shielded from. They were the three Winchesters. That's all they were, and that was all they needed.

Sam quickly picked the lock, taking a deep calming breath as he turned the old handle and quietly pushed open the heavy wooden door, the hinges creaking in the silent night. As he reached a shaky hand forward slowly, flipping on the light, his eyes immediately fell to the large bed before him, but more importantly, to the cleaned and bandaged form of his older brother laying on it, safe and asleep. Sam looked once more at the letter he still held tightly in his fist before going to check on his brother. Whoever this 'K' person was, he really did owe them one.