Separation

Disclaimer: If I did own Supernatural, there would probably be a lot more love interests. Also the Harvelles would have survived.

An eight year old Dean Winchester sat on the edge of one of the two motel beds. He sighed, frustrated, as he flipped through the channels on the TV because it was giving him nothing but multicoloured bars and the sound of static.

He glared at the ceiling when he heard a low rumble, convinced that the storm that seemed to have come out of nowhere was the cause of his misfortune. He handled the amulet around his neck between his fingers; he could feel the slight tug of the leather cord against the back of his neck. Sam and Uncle Bobby had given it to him for his birthday, two months prior. Bobby claimed that Sam picked it out, but that probably just meant that Sam chose the one he thought was the coolest. He glanced at the four year old sleeping soundly in the other bed farthest from the door. When Dad wasn't there Dean always took the bed closest to the entrance.

Outside, the sky unleashed another low groan, fuelling Dean's rapidly growing unease. It felt like there was something crawling under his skin that wouldn't go away. He grabbed the sawed-off shotgun that was leaning against the singular dresser that the small TV was perched on, the only other piece of furniture in the sparsely furnished room. He walked around and checked the salt lines on the small windowsill in the bathroom; he made sure there were no spaces between the small grains. He walked back into the main room to check the lines on the window and the front door. Abruptly, he heard a loud rustling coming from outside the door, it paused for a moment before it started to shake violently, the locking mechanism screeched as it tried to keep the door from opening.

Dean immediately jumped into action, he ran over to the far bed and threw his gun on the floor so he could pick up a confused Sam in both arms, blanket and all, and ran into the small bathroom. Dean set him down in the small bathtub as carefully as possible. Sam went to talk when Dean swiftly put a hand over his mouth muffling any noise.

"Shhh!" Dean hissed quietly, the sound coming out more harshly then he had originally intended. He levelled Sam with a hard stare and said in his 'big brother' voice, "Listen to me, no matter what you hear, do not unlock this door and stay in the bathtub. Don't make a sound and don't come out for anything! You got that?"

Sam nodded slowly, scared confusion shining brightly through the moisture rimming his eyes. Dean scrabbled beside the toilet, finding a small box of salt hidden there in case of emergency. He lined the floor around the tub and in an arc in front of the bathroom door. He got up and opened the door before he looked at his little brother huddling in the far corner of the tub, scared and confused. "See ya, Sammy," he whispered, before he grabbed the door and turned the locking mechanism, closing it behind him to keep his baby brother as safe as possible.

Dean quickly moved to pick up the discarded sawed-off he had left lying on the floor between the two beds. He bent down just as the door flew open with a crash. The force of the blow sent plaster flying from the walls and sent Dean falling to the ground, so he landed painfully on his gun, which now poked him agonisingly in the ribs. He rose to his hands and knees and peered over the top of the bed to see the dark outline of a man framed against the night in the newly destroyed doorway.

Dean jumped up instantly, grabbed the shotgun and shot at the figure with no hesitation before he felt his body rise up off the ground and was slammed into the wall right above the TV, the gun ripped from his hands.

"Tsk, tsk," the figure remarked, still cast in shadow. "Is that any way to treat an old friend?"

"What do you want?" Dean spat out painfully, still pinned against the wall, his feet a good two feet off the ground.

"Oh, no much…" The man replied as he walked into the room casually as if he owned the place, the room light glinting off of his yellow eyes. "...Just wanted to see how Johnny's boys were doing."

Dean felt a surge of hatred go through him, and renewed his struggle as he realised that the monster that had killed his mother was currently less than six feet away. "You-!"

'Ah, ah, ah!" The demon waved a finger at him disapproving as though he was a school teacher disciplining a student, "You know you mustn't be rude to your guests!"

Dean didn't reply, instead he chose to try to glare a hole through the middle of the demons forehead. He heard Sammy begin to cry in the bathroom, giving away any chance of staying hidden. Dean immediately turned his eyes and locked gazes with the demon, dark green eyes watching sickly yellow eyes in a demented sort of staring contest. The demon grinned conspiratorially at him, "That must be little Sammy! Why isn't he enjoying the party?"

"You stay away from him, you bastard!" Dean spat, his fury quickly building inside of him along with a shock of terror for his brother.

"Hush." The demon said. "How did you get him in there so fast? Well, never mind, I didn't come here for little Sammy. I came here for you. A little birdie informed me that you would be the one to would pull the trigger on my demise, however unlikely that is, and I just can't have that now, can I?"

Dean struggled to breathe as a sudden pressure began to assault his throat, and cut off his air supply.

Dean tried to take deep breaths, desperately trying to get whatever air he could into his screaming lungs. "My… dad's going to… kill… you…" he managed to wheeze painfully.

The man just laughed before releasing the pressure on his throat. "You know what?" he asked, a sickening smile spreading across his face. "I won't kill you... I'll just tear you away from the two things you love the most. You'll never see them again." His impending laugh was stopped before it could start as a familiar black car crashed through the front wall, hitting the man and throwing him across the room. Dean dropped painfully to the ground, his wrist crunched sickeningly under his body.
The driver's door busted open and John climbed out, blood making its way down his face from the impact, and brought his gun up to aim at the demon before firing.

The demon didn't flinch as his body was riddled with buckshot; it simply raised a hand toward the eldest Winchester in a small gesture that had him slamming into a wall with a crash as though he was swatting a fly.

"DAD!" Dean yelled as he watched his father bounce off the wall and hit the floor before resolutely getting back to his feet.

The yellow eyed demon simply raised his eyebrows and slammed John into three more walls before he slammed him into the ground.

Dean stayed down where he was, he cradled his newly broken wrist as he heard his dad groan, and watched as the demon casually walked over to his father, and bent down on his knees to make sure that John could hear him. "I'm going to make sure that you never see your son again!" he whispered gleefully.

John's eyes immediately moved in the direction of the bathroom door that was still barely masking Sam's terrified cries that had only grown louder when John had crashed the Impala through the wall.

"Oh no! I don't want little Sammy Boy just yet John, although I do have very special plans for him." the demon informed as he slowly rose back up to his feet. Dean tried to swallow the sudden shock of terror into his system as he watched the demon stalk over to him.

"Leave my son alone!" John tried to yell, but it only seemed to come out as a kind of hoarse whisper as he struggled to bring himself back up to his feet to protect his firstborn.

"Ah! But where's the fun in that?" The demon questioned delightedly. He threw John hard into a wall one last time, the glass rattling in the walls from the force of the blow.

"Dad!" Dean cried, as he got to his feet, and tried not to think about the crunching sound that had accompanied his fall.

John didn't get up.

Dean resolutely pulled himself together before he bent down and grabbed the small silver knife hidden neatly in his boot and held it firmly in his hand. He took a step toward the demon and threw the sharp projectile at the man's face with as much force as possible, only to have the demon catch the knife in the air and bring it down to frown at the offending object. "Well that was rude." he said irritably as through Dean had wronged him in some great way.

"Dean," he huffed in a voice that just sounded bored, "You should know better by now." He walked towards Dean before he picked him up by his shirt collar. "You're never going to see your family again!" He said in a sing song voice before he threw him at what was left of the wall by the door, which knocked Dean unconscious with a painful thud.

The yellow eyed demon turned around slowly inside the room, relishing the feeling of destruction he knew he was leaving behind, smelling the blood from Johns damaged body, the demon laughed, knowing that John didn't completely comprehend what exactly he was about to lose. He turned again, walked slowly to the door and picked up the boy. He walked out the front door casually, foregoing the gaping hole three feet to the right and strolled away into the parking lot, whistling nonchalantly as he heard police sirens grow louder in the distance and the sound of Sam Winchester, still crying in the bathroom.

AN: So this is the first time that I've attempted to write a multi chapter fic, so I'd love any feedback you may have :) Tell me what you think!