Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Past Sins

"Wakey wakey Sam." The alchemist sang cheerfully and Sam groaned at the noise, blearily opening his eyes.

Of course, he was tied up. He was strapped to a chair, his head fasted in place by a large metal collar around his neck that kept him anchored to the back of the seat. His wrists were bound at the back of the chair, a thick rope tying them together. His feet were also tied together, and were further tied to the chair legs.

"You know when I get out of here I'm going to enjoy killing you." Sam vowed darkly and the alchemist chuckled.

"I'm sure you are. Problem is, you won't be able to. You see, I've been doing some calculations. You are definitely the more profitable brother of the two, so Jacob can basically do all the damage he wants to your brother. You are the true prize and I'm not in the habit of allowing profitable lines to run out on me." He said with a sickly grin, and Sam looked at him sceptically.

"Really? Want to tell me how much I'm worth?" he asked.

One it would keep the alchemist busy while he tried to figure out a way out of the mess he had gotten himself into, and two, he was genuinely curious as to how much he would fetch on the markets the alchemist traded in.

"Well let's see. Your blood alone is very profitable, memorabilia collectors, vampires of course, the occasional fallen deity, the odd witch...for the full five or so litres of blood within your body I'm looking at a good million, million and a half dollars." He said musingly and Sam's jaw dropped.

"Really?" he asked, his planning of how to escape temporarily thrown by this unexpected piece of news.

"Oh yes, Azazel fans, Lilith worshipers, Apocalypse sympathisers, the joe blog demon market alone is very profitable. Your brother's is very popular too, don't get me wrong, but considering all the demon blood that once coursed through your veins, and the added incentive of the trace vampire blood from your squabble with the souls returned from Purgatory last year, it's made your blood that little bit more lucrative. Your brother's, having had vampire blood within it and also being the blood of a Winchesters, around a million and a quarter all told." He said, tinkering with various vials.

"And my organs?" Sam asked and he chuckled.

"Oh dear boy, they fetch millions in and of themselves! Creatures that eat hearts and lungs and all that sort of thing are willing to offer millions for each organ. A werewolf said two million for your heart. You boys are a very lucrative market you know. Your eyes are three million a piece, from both of you."

Sam was seriously beginning to consider he was in the wrong profession here, being an alchemist with a catch like the Winchesters had to be a hell of a lot more lucrative than hustling pool, running credit card scams, selling old weapons and selling off some of Dean's CDs when he wasn't looking on ebay.

"But you my boy, that lovely head of hair of yours, that is the clincher. Ten million for every single little hair on your head, all from the same buyer." The alchemist commented and Sam's jaw dropped.

What the hell? Someone was willing to pay ten million for his hair? While part of him was quite smug about this (after all no one would offer ten million for Dean's), why the hell would someone want his hair?

"So how much overall?" Sam asked, struggling with his bonds, and the alchemist, who was plonking away at his calculator, looked very impressed as he read the figure.

"Well, ten million for the hair, six million for the eyes, two million for the heart, brain and lungs, a million for the liver (your brother's will be lucky to make ten grand)," he said, interrupting himself and Sam couldn't help but grin at that, "a million for most of the other major organs... one and a half million for the blood, along with your teeth, glands, vocal chords, tongue, skin, I'm looking at twenty five million for you altogether, your brother comes in around twenty million. You boys are going to make me a very rich man." He said, and then slapped Sam in the face, making Sam gasp in pain.

"Now now, we can't have you trying to escape now can we. Now, where was I?" he asked himself, and Sam scowled, trying to figure out how to get out of this mess.

Lucrative though the market in him related goods was, he had no desire to be a part of it. And what was more, he had promised Dean he wouldn't die and he wasn't going to let his brother down again. The alchemist then assembled several tools, making Sam gulp warily. The alchemist had several lengths of clear tubing, most likely for the blood, but there was a smaller thinner one that Sam had a horrid suspicion he knew where he was going to stick it and didn't like it one little bit. He'd also assembled several cool boxes, with a scalpel on each one, there was also a set of hair clippers, which instantly set Sam's blood on boil as he observed them.

"Now, I would ask that you don't struggle, dissecting you into the various bits and bobs is going to take quite long enough without you lending a hand so be a good chap and let me do my job in peace." He said, and Sam grunted in pain as the alchemist stuck a needle connected to a tube in each arm, and then stuck a further one in the neck. Grunting in pain, Sam watched as the alchemist attached various lengths of tube to each syringe, leading them into vials as blood started to pour from each one into the vials.

"You won't get Dean." Sam vowed and the alchemist clucked his tongue chidingly.

"Silly boy, where do you think Jacob is? He's gone after your brother, he'll kill him and be done with it, and then I'll get to do all of this again." He said cheerfully, and Sam winced as he used tape to hold his eyes open.

Sam immediately felt his eyes begin to water and the alchemist, armed with a dropper, chuckled as involuntary tears started to run down Sam's face as the cool air assaulted his exposed eyes, as blood trickled out of him into the vials. Collecting the tears, he dropped them into a further vial, and decided to focus on something else.

He collected his scissors from the desk, and ignoring Sam's attempts at struggling, he quickly sliced through his red and black plaid shirt, taking care not to damage his valuable skin, ripping the shirt off and leaving Sam shirtless in the chair, bound and at his mercy.

"Now what?" Sam demanded angrily, his eyes stinging, and the alchemist then fetched a small piece of papery looking cloth and stuck it under Sam's armpit.

"What the hell?" Sam demanded angrily, and the alchemist shrugged.

"What, did you think your sweat wouldn't fetch a good price too?" he asked in surprise, pressing down into Sam's armpit firmly, ignoring Sam's wriggling.

After each foray, he would squeeze the cloth, sending a small trickle of sweat into each vial.

"You really are sick and twisted." Sam snarled, struggling once again but the alchemist just shrugged.

"It's a living." He said idly, before forcing Sam's head down and prying open his mouth.

Choking on the fingers the alchemist stuck into his mouth, Sam felt saliva fall in a slow dribble from his mouth, into the waiting vial. This was really getting old. Sam was rubbing his feet together, trying to break his legs free from the tight ropes around his ankles. He had to get free, stop this freakshow bastard and get back to Dean, otherwise Jacob might kill him, and he wasn't prepared to lose his brother again.

"Money money money, lot's of man, in a rich man's world..." the alchemist sung to himself, and Sam was suddenly struck by an idea.

"Now, they always say this doesn't hurt, but doctors are liars and I'm not really a trained professional!" the alchemist said cheerfully, revealing the thin tube and unzipping Sam's pants.

That, quite frankly, wasn't on. So Sam shoved with his back, and the alchemist's eyes widened in shock as the chair toppled backwards, slightly strangled by the collar. The chair thudded down to the ground, sending the bottles of blood crashing to the floor and ripping out the syringes.

"You fool, you're trying to cost me a fortune!" the alchemist spat as Sam glared up at him.

"You're trying to stick a tube up my dick!" he responded angrily, and heard a successful click.

"Yes, everything must go Sam, your urine included. Now, be a good boy, and...how did that come loose?" he demanded in shock, seeing the collar had come undone and Sam, yelling with the exertion pulled upwards and grinned in victory as, despite the pain in the tops of his arms, he pulled apart the back of the chair, freeing his arms from their restraint as he snapped the top of the chair off with his exertion. Of course they were still tied together, but at least he had made progress. The alchemist prepared to knock Sam out with one of his sonic cries, but Sam, now with the advantage, used his momentum to come up and headbutt the aged alchemist in the stomach which sent him wheezing backwards into a desk. Sam then twisted his hands, and with a careful few tugs, he finally pulled free, allowing his hands room to move once again as the rope fell feebly to the floor. Looks like his knots were only strong when his victim actually couldn't move his hands.

The alchemist recovered, aiming a flap of wind at him. The blast caught Sam and sent him crashing into a table laden with goods. Grunting in pain, Sam quickly rolled out of the way of another attack, smirking as the increasingly angry alchemist flapped some fire at him. Gritting his teeth, he stuck his feet right into the attack.

Sam screamed in pain as the flames scorched his bare feet, but he had done what he needed as the ropes binding him were incinerated. The alchemist snarled in fury, about to begin a sonic scream, but Sam, wincing at the pain now burning the soles of his bare feet, shouldered the alchemist in the stomach, throwing him up into the air. The alchemist gave a cry of pain and fury as he slammed down on top of the bottles he had already assembled, making him hiss in pain and annoyance as his profit margin was further cut into.

"I am going to sell you piece by piece, but I'm sure I can cope with the loss of goods from killing you!" the alchemist swore, sending an electric flap right into Sam's bare chest.

Sam shuddered as the blast hit him, but with adrenaline pumping and the alchemist distracted, the attack wasn't as powerful as it usually would be. He seized a hold of the alchemist and threw him into the wall, the old man wheezing with the impact. Sam then grinned challengingly, and started knocking all sorts of items onto the floor. Seeing this, the furious alchemist whistled sharply, dazing Sam and he pounced, flapping flaming wings at Sam's head.

Sam fell to the ground to avoid the attack, kicking up with his burnt feet right into the groin of the alchemist. As the old man staggered back weakly, Sam seized the clipper the alchemist had intended to use on him and stabbed it into the alchemist with all his might. The alchemist cried in pain, and then Sam was suddenly struck by an idea of how to stop the alchemist.

The alchemist then flapped his hands, blowing Sam across the room and smashing him through the wall into the main shop. Sam smirked as he saw his flamethrower and gun, and vaulted towards them, determined to get them before the alchemist showed up.

Sam was then blown across the room into a stand, sending numerous bottles tumbling to the floor and peppering Sam's bare arms with tiny little shards of glass. Sam hissed in pain and then started throwing vials at the alchemist, his hands raised in order to deflect the attacks. The alchemist then gave a piercing sonic cry, making Sam yell in pain as every glass vial and surface in the shop shattered, showering Sam with various shards of glass. Sam got to his feet, struggling against the screaming alchemist, the hybrid's eyes livid as he started sending fiery and electric flaps in his direction.

Sam danced out of the way of two of the attacks, springing over the counter and tackling the alchemist to the ground. He once again stabbed down the hair clipper, right into the alchemist's neck. The alchemist gave a squawk of pain before blowing Sam into the ceiling. Sam grunted as he slammed into it, sending a cascade of dust around him as he thudded back to the floor. The alchemist was then on him, a flap of fire just missing Sam as he rolled out of the way. His body was tiring, that much was clear. He was going to have to end this quickly if he was to survive. And he wasn't leaving Dean at the mercy of a pissed off orphaned kitsune.

Sam tackled the alchemist, throwing him into the wall of the tiny corridor that led to the back of the shop. He then punched the alchemist repeatedly, the old man crying in pain as he did so before Sam finished with a final blow to the stomach. Taking the weakening alchemist off his feet, Sam set about him, hammering down on the weak bird man. The alchemist gave a vicious squawk and cried to try and delay Sam but Sam, wincing with the pain, managed to endure the attack. He then once more took the hair clipped and knocking the alchemist's hand away as he tried to flap at him, Sam thrust the clipper into his mouth and switched it on. The alchemist stopped trying to force Sam off and tried to extract the thick clipper fromh is mouth but Sam slammed his hand down, wedging it tightly inside his mouth.

"It's over." Sam snarled before he yanked the clipper out, leaving the alchemist weak and choking beneath him.

"Hardly." The alchemist snarled, and flapped fiery sparks right at Sam's eyes.

Sam reeled backwards, crying out in pain as the alchemist forced him off, determined to stop Sam. Sam punched up at the alchemist, catching him in the side and crashing him into the wall. He then seized the back of the alchemist's head and slammed his head into the wall, dazing him. Sam slammed him once more before turning tail and running into the shop proper, the furious and bloodied alchemist right on his heels. Sam desperately grabbed the flamethrower, activated the trigger and brought it round in a tight arc, and at long last, he had dealt with his target.

The alchemist screamed as his entire left hand side was consumed by electric fire. Crying and screaming with pain, he fell to the floor and started rolling, trying to put out the flames, and Sam took that as his opportunity to advance. His breath hitching as he stood on his burnt feet, Sam pointed the flamethrower at the weakened and burned alchemist, knowing it was over as the alchemist was giving shuddering gasps of pain.

"You...you've ruined...everything." the alchemist said weakly as Sam pointed the flamethrower right at his head.

"I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. I've no inclination to be sold to any of your clients. Now, you're dying, that much is obvious. Electric fire, the thing a hybrid like you wouldn't be able to stop. But I'm run out of time and patience. Jacob is going after my brother, and I swear, if he hurts him, I will open Purgatory, drag your sorry ass out and kill you all over again." Sam vowed darkly and the alchemist laughed gloatingly, though his cackle quickly gave way to a pained wheeze.

"It isn't my fault your thug brother is a mindless murderer." He spat, and Sam, despite the pain it caused him, took great delight in kicking the dying bird man in the jaw.

"no, but you made all of this possible, and decided to get involved yourself. If you'd stayed out of it, you wouldn't be burning to death so very slowly. Now," Sam growled, seizing the neck of the hybrid, "how do we fix Jacob?"

The alchemist coughed weakly and glared at Sam smugly.

"And what possible reasons could I have for telling you that?" he asked, and Sam dropped his neck, and causally fired a jet of fire into one of his legs.

The alchemist screamed in excruciating pain, no longer to even make his sonic abilities work for him he was in such agony.

"Look asshole, you've sent the damned kitsune after my brother. And you are dying, however this plays out, you lose. So, either you tell me what I want to know, and end your suffering quickly, or you don't and I waste mine and your time by drawing this out. What'll it be?" Sam hissed angrily and the alchemist groaned in frustration before finally nodding.

"Fine! Just end this, I can't bear it!" he roared in agony, and Sam smirked in triumph.

"Good. Now, how do I get Jacob back to normal?" he demanded and the alchemist made a weak crowing sound in his throat and pointed to the till.

"There is a bronze vial in the till, feed him that, he will return to normal." He growled, and Sam nodded.

"Brilliant. And I need other things too, where do I get the supplies?" he asked, pointing the flamethrower threateningly and the alchemist wailed in pain before he answered.

"The storehouse! In the storehouse, through the back. Now, please!" the alchemist cried writhing as the smouldering flames made their way across his chest and up his leg.

Sam readied the flamethrower, after all, he had done as he had said he would, but then the alchemist gave a weak, throaty, pained laugh.

"You'll be too late. By the time you get back to your little cabin, your brother will be long dead. Jacob will kill him!" he boasted, and Sam glowered.

"We'll see about that." He replied and hatefully squeezed the trigger, ending the alchemist's life as he incinerated him.

Sam took a deep breath and hobbled towards the storehouse. Why was he always stripped by their insane enemies? Shivering slightly, he entered the warehouse. He had things to do, and not a lot of time to do them in.

But he wasn't going to let Dean down again.

XX

Sam had been gone for hours. And though he had tried very hard not to, Dean was worrying about him. The phone lay beside him, right in reach should anything happen. But it stayed stubbornly silent, much to his great disgust. So, rather than fret endlessly over his brother's safety, Dean tried stubbornly to try and invest himself in the soap opera he was watching on Rufus' crappy, beat up tv.

It wasn't working though. Every time the long haired star of the show came onto the screen, Dean immediately flashed to his brother and wondered what he was doing, if he was alright.

He knew the reasons they had moved so quickly. They had to leave Montana quickly, before Mueller found them and once he arrived it wouldn't take him long to find the cabin. They needed to be gone before then, and before that, they also needed to deal with Jacob and the alchemist. Leaving potential enemies undealt with had bit them in the ass more than once, as Walt and Roy and Becky had all clearly illustrated the year before. And as Dean was still partially paralysed (he could move his knees and above now, which he deemed to be progress) it did leave it to Sam to deal with the threat.

But the entire thing didn't sit well with him. Sam was trying to protect both of them by dealing with the threats to them so they could leave with ease and not risk the alchemist and Jacob picking up on their trail and following them and potentially leading Mueller to them. But he still wished they had had time to wait before Sam had left alone. Thinking about it, he should have forced Sam to throttle back, but he hadn't, due to Sam being so stubborn (Dean didn't want another argument when they were trying to fix things) and also because he had a suspicion his brother was doing this to prove something to him, that he could be relied upon when it counted, and if he stopped him from doing that, Sam would just think he didn't trust him all over again.

But now, it was pitch black outside, Dean had been up all night aside from a slight doze, and there was still no sign of Sam. He also wasn't answering his phone, which, when combined with the lack of baby brother, all contributed to Dean being in a massive panic. Four hours, three and a half if Sam pushed it, there and back, give him an hour or so to deal with things, he still should have been back over an hour ago. He was just being silly, panicking even though he could do nothing about it, but he was sure something had happened to Sam. And if that was the case, how was he meant to help when he couldn't walk? He didn't care, no matter what it took, he would go after his brother, even if he had to crawl to Anaconda in order to do it.

Dean resolved to try his number one last time around two oclock, when he heard the door open and he sighed in relief.

"Sammy, have you got any idea how worried I've been? You forget how to answer your phone?" he asked, and turned to face his brother.

Only it wasn't his brother.

It was Jacob, his claws out, eyes blue, and before Dean could do anything, the kitsune swung at him and a second later Dean's vision went black.

XX

Dean groaned as he woke up, finding himself lying on the bed, his hands tied to the bedstead. He tried his bonds experimentally, getting nowhere, and had the same situation in his feet. Cursing what had happened, he craned his neck to see Jacob glaring at him angrily.

"Nice of you to join me." The kitsune sneered and Dean looked at him apprehensively.

"Look kid, you don't need to do this..." he began but then, his eyes going their true colour, Jacob leapt onto the bed and raked his claws up Dean's cheek, making him cry out in pain.

"Shut up! You don't get to say anything!" he bellowed angrily, and Dean swallowed.

He was beginning to have very serious doubts about Sam's plan. Mind you this was partly his own fault, but still, this didn't look good.

"Jacob, I-"

Jacob glared down at him.

"I'm going to kill you you know. You get that don't you Dean? That I'm going to kill you? And you know why too don't you?" he asked in a cool, chilling voice and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, because I killed your mother. But I swear, I had no idea that you were there, if I had, I would-"

"Would have what? Shut the door as you took her away from me?" Jacob demanded, stabbing his claws into Dean's leg and Dean was quite glad he couldn't feel them at the moment, because it certainly looked like it hurt.

Dean looked earnestly up at Jacob.

"Jacob, look. I made a mistake. I never should have killed Amy. It was stupid and cruel, and she didn't deserve it." He said and Jacob snarled.

"You're only saying that because I'm going to kill you!" he yelled, punching Dean in the face.

Dean grunted as he turned to face the teenager who was attacking him.

"Won't deny that isn't part of it. I killed your mother because she was a monster, and I thought she would try and hurt Sam." He told her and Jacob snarled.

"She wouldn't try and hurt him, he let her go! Which you should have done!" he yelled and ripped down his chest with his claws, making Dean cry out in pain.

Dean looked at him pleadingly.

"I know what I did was wrong. But we were trained all our lives to kill monsters, and more than that I was taught to protect Sam with all I had, and I've failed at that too many times.

Sam wasn't in his right mind when he let her go, he should have dealt with her himself."

Jacob glowered down at him.

"He did deal with her, he let her go, he trusted her, but you, you're a vicious bloodthirsty monster and you took her from me!" he yelled angrily, ripping another claw mark down Dean's chest as his captive victim cried out in pain, his legs still paralysed and his hands tugging at the bonds they were in.

"You took her from me! You murdered my mother, all because she was saving my life! Do you have any idea what it's like, knowing she died for you? Because of you?" he demanded angrily, and Dean nodded grimly.

"More than you know." He admitted but this just seemed to make Jacob angrier.

"I thought everything was fine, and then I come home to find your murdering ass standing over my mother who you gutted like a fish, like she was some common animal. And then you threaten me, the kid who just watched his mother's murder, and tell me one day you'll come for me too. You're the monster!" Jacob howled, pummelling Dean in the face several times as he vented his frustrations.

The pummelling over, a bloodied and beaten Dean looked up at Jacob, blood pouring down his face and his eye already starting to swell shut. He tried feebly to escape his bonds, but it was pointless and his legs were still paralysed. He was totally trapped, and about to die.

"You ruined my life. You took my mother from me. And now you're gonna pay!" Jacob vowed, and Dean looked at him pleadingly. This was the end, he couldn't escape, Sam hadn't made it, and Jacob had every right to kill him.

"Kill me if you want. Just, don't kill Sam." He begged, and Jacob spat on him in disgust.

"You want me to spare him? After you so mercifully spared me? No way. Both of you die. An eye for an eye Dean. You take my mother, I take your brother, and I take Sam's brother. Because if not for you two, she'd still be alive. You ruined my life, like you took hers. And now, I'll take yours!" he yelled bitterly, tears flooding his eyes as he clamped his long clawed hands around Dean's neck.

Dean gagged as the long claws started to dig into his neck, the hands tightening around his neck. Jacob, his face a mask of hatred, pain and anger began choking Dean hard, determined to exact his revenge upon the one who had taken his mother from him. Dean gasped, his arms pulling at the bonds that were tying him to the bedstead. He couldn't do anything, he was trapped. He couldn't move his legs, his arms were bound and immobile and he had Jacob's hands fasted around his throat. Jacob began shaking his head as he squeezed, Dean gasping desperately for air as Jacob made his head thrash up and down as he was throttled. If he could, his legs would be kicking as he tried to struggle, but completely bound and helpless as he was, he was trapped, his life about to end as he was strangled to death. Dean was taking deep shuddering breaths, blood thundering around his head, his vision beginning to waver as Jacob took his revenge. His muscles were becoming sore as they constricted, his eyes rolling in his head and he could feel his life ending, he was about to die. His tongue was swelling, his breath shuddering, he was never going to see Sam again...

When suddenly his brother, wearing only a tartan blanket for some reason, appeared from nowhere and slammed his shoulder into Jacob, knocking the kitsune from the bed and crashing him to the floor, allowing Dean to take a deep gasping breath as he tried to regain the air he had lost. His brother had come for him, just in time, but he had come. Dean, still taking deep breaths, looked up to see his furious brother standing at the foot of the bed, the blanket falling to the floor as he stood and faced Jacob, who was glaring at Sam as he got back to his feet.

"Keep your claws off my brother." Sam snarled, and Jacob snarled right back at him.

"Why the hell should I? He murdered my mother! He killed her, in cold blood, like the vicious monster he is!" Jacob raged and Sam looked at Jacob, but the anger he had felt at seeing him almost kill his brother was fading, and Jacob was shocked to see that there was a hint of compassion, understanding and kindness in his foe's face.

"I know what he is. But deep down, you're not a killer. You're a kid, whose mom was snatched from him before she should have been. You're just a kid Jacob, you aren't a killer. You hate Dean because he killed your mom. Anyone else would do the same thing. But you hate him for what he did don't you? Don't you see that by going after him the way you have, you've become like what you think Dean is?" Sam asked softly, and Jacob's hard expression faltered ever so slightly.

Dean looked curiously at his little brother, sending him a questioning look, but Sam just shook his head as he turned his attention back to Jacob. He gave Jacob an understanding, compassionate look, and the young kitsune looked at Sam hesitantly, the sort of expression Aimo had on his face when the young angel hadn't understood something.

"See Jacob, you're just a kid. Your mom was killing people to protect you, to make sure you were safe. She wasn't killing for any reason other than that. Which if you kill Dean, you will be." He said calmly, and Jacob glowered angrily.

"I don't care. He took my mom from me, I deserve revenge! I deserve justice, and he," he bellowed, pointing at Dean, who was still looking very confused at what his brother was up to, "deserves to die because he was the one who took her from me!"

Sam shrugged.

"Maybe he does Jacob, but maybe he doesn't. You know, there was once a couple of kids. One night, the eldest of them was only four years old at the time, their mother was killed. And sorry to say Jacob but her death was a hell of a lot scarier than your mom's. Compared to their mom's death, your mom's was peaceful despite it being murder. Their mom was attached to the ceiling, her stomach cut open and then she was immolated by fire, by someone a hell of a lot scarier and a thousand more powerful than Dean. That night, the eldest kid looked up to see his mom being covered in flames on the ceiling. His father handed him his baby brother, who actually only was a baby back then, and told him to run out of the house and not to look back. But either way that kid saw his mother die in one of the most horrific ways possible, and you're right that kind of thing leaves a mark.

Now the boys' father escaped the fire as well. And revenge took over his entire life. He wasn't a dad, he was a commander. He spent his time training his kids to fight evil, not to be kids. He neglected his kids, his friends, his life, all on some insane quest for revenge. He left his youngest son in the care of his big brother, who, while awesome, should never have had to basically raise a kid on his own because their father couldn't. He was so obsessed with revenge that years later, he all but threw out one kid because he didn't want to follow his mad quest for revenge and then he abandoned the one who stayed loyal to him. And through it all, he told his grown up sons, who were quite clearly in trouble and in the thick of it, nothing, which meant they were flailing around in the dark while he kept all his knowledge to himself. And do you know what he did? His last act on earth was to try and screw over the demons he wanted revenge on one more time. He told his eldest son, his perfect little soldier, to kill his younger brother in case he turned evil, and by so doing he hoped to get one up on the demon who had killed his wife. He told his son, who always looked on him as a hero, to murder the one he cared about most in the world. That's what revenge does to you Jacob. It makes you an unfeeling, arrogant monster. I've been there, so has Dean and the one that story was about, our dad, it did it to him too. We get revenge, we really do. But you have to ask yourself, would your mom want you to be a murderer at nine? Would she want you to taint your life just to avenge her? I don't think you're a killer. You're mad and hurting yeah, but you don't really want to kill Dean. If you do, you'll become the very monster Dean thought he was killing when he killed your mom. And then, a hunter will kill you because it's our job. You don't really want that to happen Jacob, because if you only live for revenge, pretty soon you'll have nothing to live for. Stand down. You don't have to kill Dean." Sam said, and Dean had to say, if he was Jacob he'd have been convinced.

And Jacob, who at heart was still just a nine year old orphan, just a child, was looking at Sam with a sort of hesitant trust, and his conviction was shaking. He wasn't really a killer. By aging him, the alchemist had made him more likely to act on his dark desire for revenge, but deep down, he was a kid who had lost his mom and wanted to lash out at the world that had taken something from him.

And Jacob then turned to look at Dean, Sam tensing as he did so, and as Dean looked back, he gave a growl and leapt towards Dean. Sam threw himself in the way, only to be barrelled off his feet by Jacob. Landing heavily, Sam grunted in pain and then gagged in surprise as Jacob's hands wrapped around his neck.

"Sam!" Dean cried in a panic as Jacob began to squeeze.

Sam gasped in shock as Jacob, eyes shining blue and his face snarling, strangled him. Sam kicked his legs feebly, trying to force the teenager off, but he was much stronger than he looked. Shoving at Jacob as he gasped desperately for air, Sam needed a weapon, any weapon because the young kitsune was a lot stronger than he thought. And finally, Sam found Dean's discarded gun. His breath shuddering and eyes beginning to roll, Sam barely grabbed the gun and slammed it with all of his might into the back of Jacob's head, and Sam breathed free air once again as the kitsune dropped like a stone.

"Sammy?" Dean asked worriedly, unable to see anything and panicking about his younger brother.

He then breathed in relief as a heavily breathing Sam got to his feet and looked at Dean.

"Where's Benny, he was supposed to be here, you said two days ago that he was in Idaho." He said accusingly, and Dean winced.

"Sam, uh..." he began, not liking the angry look on Sam's face.

"What?" his younger brother demanded as he tied Jacob up for safekeeping.

"I didn't call Benny." Dean admitted quietly, and for a few seconds, Sam stood there like a stunned fish, gasping at nothing, and as he did so, Dean dared to hope he would get away with it.

That was until he was hit with full on bitch face and Sam clambered onto the bed and started beating Dean's chest in frustration. Dean winced with the impacts, but he did note his brother wasn't hitting the wounds Jacob had made on him.

"You asshole! Have you got a death wish? Why didn't you call him?" Sam yelled angrily, and sensing the brief reprieve from his brother's irritation Dean made his move.

"Well...we were talking again, getting on. And I didn't want to piss on that by calling someone I know you don't like or trust here even if it was to protect me." He explained and Sam looked at him in frustration, most likely questioning whether or not to kill his brother.

"You're an idiot. Are you that determined to die again? I thought we'd sorted that last year. Or did I make you relapse?" he asked sadly, undoing Dean's bonds, allowing Dean to sit up and he had to suppress a noise of ecstasy as blood rushed back into his hands.

He then laid his hand gently on the back of his brother's neck, directing Sam to look at him, noticing but not mentioning the growing sheen of tears in his brother's eyes.

"Of course not Sammy. I'm not determined to die, I don't have a death wish. And while it was to do with you, it wasn't why I didn't call Benny. I just didn't want us to fall out again." He said softly, and drew his little brother into a fond hug.

Sam eagerly returned it, and they sat there for a while, Dean absently stroking Sam's hair before he pried himself loose from his brother, grinning cockily.

"So, the alchemist go all dominatrix on you?" he asked and Sam glowered.

"No, he wanted my sweat. Why am I the one who always gets stripped down by murderous psychos?" he moaned and Dean laughed at the pout on his face.

"So, he's dead then?" he asked hopefully, and Sam nodded.

"Deader than a KFC bargain bucket. Just as crispy too. I burned all his supplies of us too, and took his contacts list, just so we can see who we might need to keep an eye on. By the way, I'm worth a hell of a lot more than you." Sam said with a grin, heading outside.

"What? How?" Dean demanded angrily as Sam returned, two vials in hand as he knelt down beside Jacob.

"I take it one turns him back into a rugrat?" Dean asked, and Sam nodded as he poured the vial down Jacob's throat.

"Yeah, this one." He said, and sat down beside his brother, who was overjoyed that he was beginning to feel a tingling in his toes, joined him on the edge of the bed, looking at Jacob as he slowly started to shrink.

"Good. You did well Sammy, I'm proud of you, you took them both out, all by yourself. And even more impressive, you went all Luke Skywalker on the kid and it seemed to work. Why didn't it?" he asked curiously and Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but I'm going to go with unexpected teenage hormones. He was standing down wasn't he?" he asked, and Dean nodded.

"Yeah. So what happened with the alchemist?" he asked, as Jacob's muscles started to become their pretransformation state.

Sam explained the story, Jacob slowly returning to normal. Dean of course was less than impressed about Sam's capture, but was indeed proud that he had managed to get out of the mess and escape in time to get back here (though he did admit if Jacob hadn't knocked him out he'd have been far too late to save his big brother). He also showed Dean the various lists he had taken, allowing Dean to examine them while he patched his brother up as Jacob's transformation back into a nine year old kid was completed.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean asked as his brother picked up a light blue potion of some sort, after he finished tightening the bonds that held Jacob in place.

"Yeah?" he asked absently, looking with distaste down at Jacob and the vial in his hand.

"Did you mean all the stuff you said to him? About revenge, and dad and I?" he asked curiously and Sam shrugged.

"It got him to listen didn't it?" he asked, but Dean wasn't letting it go that easily.

"Sam..." he said warningly, and Sam sighed.

"Alright. Yeah, I meant some of it. I mean, all these years later, I do get why dad did what he did, but that doesn't change the fact that he was a pretty crappy dad. We needed a dad. I needed a dad. I mean you were great, but you were my big brother and you basically had to raise me, he didn't. And I know I rehashed his reasons for wanting me dead, but the fact still remains Dean, his last act on earth was to tell you to kill me. And considering his entire life since mom died was spent trying to get revenge on old yellow eyes, I still don't think it was entirely him not wanting me to become a monster that made him get you to kill me." Sam said softly, not looking at Dean.

Dean was about to protest this, but then he stopped. Sam was right. It most likely wasn't only fatherly concern that drove him to that decision, much though he was loathe to admit it. And their father had done that, his last act was to tell Dean, who had never understood that because he followed orders and was basically a good little clone soldier, was the favourite, at least in John's eyes (if only because most of the time Dean didn't answer back and did as he was told), his last act was to tell Dean to murder the kid he had basically raised since he was the size of a loaf of bread, the centre of his entire universe. And their father had left them flailing in the dark, keeping everything to himself. Years later, both boys had come to accept their father, partly because they knew it was no good lamenting him now, partly because they knew they had each other, but that didn't mean that they didn't know that their father was an ass ninety percent of the time.

And privately, when he really went navel gazing, Dean thought it was more than that because after all his stubborn and revenge driven father had basically driven Sam away from him. True, Sam didn't help but their father had been the one to tip things over the edge. And besides, the bastard had still told him to kill his baby brother.

"Suppose." Was all he said, watching his brother curiously as he uncorked the vial.

"It's a memory potion." Sam said, answering his brother's unspoken question.

"What?" Dean asked, and Sam shrugged.

"Missouri and I were discussing ways to suppress memories last year, you know, after Lilith made you kill me and you lost your marbles. We figured if we could slip you a memory suppression potion, you wouldn't get so hung up on it. We dealt with it different in the end, but I remember the recipe. And I know I didn't approve of what you had Cas do to Ben and Lisa," he explained, ignoring his brother's slight intake of breath, "and you can moan at me for being a hypocrite later. We can't kill him and we can't trust him to go off and leave us alone, so this is the only way."

Dean looked in quiet shock at his little brother. He would never have expected Sam to do something like this, to willingly fiddle with someone's mind. But he supposed, it was the best of their limited options.

"How does it work?" he asked curiously.

"It targets whatever makes painful memories more prominent and basically calms them down, at least that's how Missouri explained it. He'll still remember his mom being killed, but he won't remember the specifics, and hopefully, it'll suppress the pain he felt about her being murdered, which means you'll be safe." Sam explained, pouring the potion into the boy's mouth.

"Are you sure? Seems like a stretch to me." He asked, and Sam shrugged.

"Missouri reckoned it would work, and Meg and Aimo did too, so if they all reckon it works, I'll take it." He said, and Dean grinned despite himself.

"You're believing the word of a baby angel, a demon who half the time wants us dead and a crazy blind psychic that this will work?" he asked pointedly, and Sam glared at him, though it didn't offset the slight smile on his face.

"The murderous demon wasn't trying to kill us at the time, and Aimo was a nerdy baby angel. And besides, Missouri's usually right about all sorts of stuff. Hey, she isn't blind." He said, and Dean grinned.

"Well something's clearly wrong with her, she prefers you to me." He said cockily and Sam rolled his eyes as he sat back beside his brother as they looked down at Jacob.

"What will we do with him then, in your master plan? Provided the memory potion works and curbs his murderous urges?" Dean asked and Sam shrugged.

"First, we make sure he doesn't want to murder you, then we drop him off with the police." He said, and Dean looked at him sceptically.

"Is that really a good idea with Mueller coming?" he asked.

"We don't have a choice Dean, and besides, we'll manage." He said and Dean grinned.

The threat was over, Mueller aside, and they were getting back to normal.

"Hey Dean?" Sam said after a while, and Dean looked at his brother curiously.

"What?"

"Well, I'm still mad at you for nearly getting yourself killed, but...thanks. For not calling Benny. Him being here probably would have made me very grumpy." He admitted and Dean grinned.

"You're welcome Sammy." He said as the two brothers sat together in companionable silence, pondering what to do with their defeated stalker.

XX

The two brothers were sitting on the hood of the Impala, and watched as the social worker they had tipped off to Jacob's presence. After he had woken up, Sam had done most of the talking, telling him that they had found him lying hurt in an alley and had taken him home to patch him up. They had fixed him up as best they could, as it had been a rough few days even on him as well. They then told him that they needed to make sure he was safe and looked after, so they were going to take him somewhere he would be safe. It was then that Dean had entered, but Jacob hadn't reacted to him any more than he already had, just acting like a scared and confused orphan just like he was. The boys had then told him that they had to go, so they dropped him off at the local school, after which they called social services to tell them that there was a young orphan who needed looking after. Jacob had shakily thanked them, and they had then lurked in wait until the social worker had come to collect him. And now, they were watching him as the social worker kindly led him inside, a hand on his shoulder as she guided him inside to start his new life with any luck.

"You reckon he'll be alright?" Dean asked, and Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but I think so. Now, they'll be able to help him and put him with people who can take care of him, help him cope with what happened to his mom." He said, and Dean snorted slightly.

"Yeah, that'll be a lucky parent, the ones who adopts a kitsune. I'm the one who did this Sammy, I screwed up his life." He said, and Sam nudged him gently with his shoulder.

"Hey, I know you're sorry for that. It's over now. Yeah Amy's dead, but he's got a chance at a new life now. The social workers will see to him. I hope. I texted Garth though, he'll keep an eye on him for us, and get other hunters to help too." He explained and Dean nodded.

"Suppose that's the best we're going to get then. So, have you got us a new case? I kind of need to take my mind off this mess." Dean asked, but Sam shook his head.

"Sorry. We need to go back to the cabin anyway and get our stuff. Then I was thinking we ought to go and talk to Jody and the others. They care about us too, and they should know we're back." He said, and Dean nodded.

"Yeah that's a point. Alright, let's go. But won't they already know we're back from Garth?" he asked and Sam grinned.

"One, they should probably hear it from us and two, it's Garth, he's probably forgotten." He said, and Dean nodded respectfully.

"Good point I suppose. Come on, let's get out of here, I've had enough of Montana anyway." He said, getting into the car, and Sam followed suit.

"What do you reckon Mueller wants with us anyway?" Sam asked as they drove off, and Dean shrugged.

"No idea Sammy. But, I reckon he knows by now we left the hospital, so he's either still coming here, or he's gone home, and either way he's going to be seriously pissed. I don't want to find out what he wants with us, and at home or here, he knows we're back and he's going to be on us again. I'd rather avoid that, so we need to get the hell out of dodge." Dean said, gunning the car back towards the cabin.

XX

The Ancilla had finally found them. He was waiting in the trees, poised to attack. He would finally fulfil his mission.

And at long last, the Winchesters would be dead.

XX

"So, head to Sioux Falls?" Dean asked, packing the last of his stuff in his bag, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Jody does care about us, and we've kind of been jerks not telling her or any of the others that we're back yet. They deserve to know." He said, and Dean rolled his eyes in amusement.

He would die before he admitted it, but sometimes he did see why the older women in their lives preferred Sam to him, despite everything, he was still quite sweet. Not that he would ever tell his brother that.

He stood up to throw an insult at Sam when he saw the trees outside the cabin move.

"Dean?" Sam asked curiously, watching as his brother gave the window an edgy look.

"I thought I saw something moving out there, but it's gone now. You nearly finished?" he asked, and hearing the small trace element of fear in his brother's voice, Sam hastened to finish packing his bag.

"Dean..."

"I'm probably just being paranoid Sammy but after being stalked and with Mueller wanting our heads, I'd rather not take any risks. We need to leave Montana, now, Mueller being here or not. You ready?" he asked, and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Keys?" he asked, and then someone hammered on the door.

Both boys sighed in relief. Being fairly isolated, the cabin didn't get many visitors, but they did get a couple from time to time, insurance salesmen, lost drivers, and Jehovah's Witnesses, which usually meant for entertaining viewing if Dean was the one who opened the door to that lot.

"Bloody maniac, he freaked me out." Dean grumbled, putting his gun back in his jeans and Sam grinned as the door was knocked again.

"You sit there and get your heart rate back to normal, I'll get the door." He told him, and Dean scowled as his brother headed to open the door.

Dean was muttering under his breath as he looked out the window. Creepy bastard, sneaking about like that. He cursed, he must be going deaf, he hadn't heard his car or anything, the first sign of another's presence was when he saw the trees move outside, as if something was beneath the leaf canopy.

Wait a minute, he hadn't heard a car.

The cabin was isolated for a reason. Rufus hadn't liked visitors at the best of times, hence it's location here, so far from the roads. It also meant that theoretically he could perform hunter related duties without the possibility of interference from any locals. As such, the cabin was far from the beaten track, and Dean, who had stumbled up that path when drunk once the year before (Sam had only very reluctantly come out to get him at three in the morning when he had started to worry, and had braved the pouring rain and biting wind to come out and find his brother sitting drunkenly on the path conversing with a bemused deer that Sam insisted had sent him a look that translated meant 'save me from this drunken loon') knew that it was a very long trail to come up without the aid of a car. Insurance salesmen and other such visitors all brought their cars to the weirdly marked little cabin. So why hadn't this guy?

Dean looked outside, desperate for any sign, but saw nothing that signified anything troublesome. And that's what was bothering him.

"Sammy!" Dean called just as Sam opened the door.

Sam's breath caught in his throat as he saw the man standing in the doorway. The man was taller than he was, but only slightly. However he was definitely better built, the man was like a tank, his strong muscles bulging beneath his black cloak. A thick silver belt was around his trunk like waist, and he was wearing high, durable and steel capped boots. His hands were the size of plates, rough, callused and strong. He then threw back his hood, and Sam recoiled in fright. He was completely bald, but that wasn't what alarmed him. He had no eyes.

Instead, it was as if someone had stabbed him in both eyes and then cut a bloody scar from the hole, making it the centre of an upside down and curved y shape. His eyes were only bloody scars, forever sealed shut by the horrific injury placed upon them, and for some reason Sam was suddenly very scared.

The man then pulled from his back a metal pole the length of a crowbar from his belt, and flicked it, making it extend into a long staff. He then gave Sam a cold grin that chilled him right to the bone.

"De-" he began before the staff was slammed into his chest, sending him flying through the air, where he slammed hard into the wall.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled in alarm, rushing to his fallen brother, and then he too went pale as he beheld their attacker.

"Whoa..." he said in shock as the man advanced, twirling his staff dangerously.

Dean wasted no time, and opened fire with his gun, aiming right for his chest, and he grinned triumphantly as every bullet hit. And then, all the remaining blood drained from his face as the man just looked at him with his sightless eyes and attacked.

Dean grunted as the staff was crashed into his chin, sending him crashing through the table. The man was on him in an instant, kicking Dean in the side before grabbing his hair and slamming his head down into the floor. Dean cried out in pain as the man then hoisted Dean into the air and threw him, spiralling across the room. Dean slammed hard into the tv, sparks burning him and a slight shock running through him, the shattered bits of screen slicing him up as he stirred in the wreckage.

Sam had recovered and had gotten back to his feet, and had tackled the man. The man gave him a cold grin, then crashed his staff right into Sam's chest. Sam wheezed as he was knocked backwards, the staff slamming him in the head and knocking him headfirst into the sink. Their attacker then yanked Sam back by the hair and plunged Sam's head into the sink full of water, drowning him. Sam struggled, his arms flailing, his legs kicking at his attacker as he tried to dig his nails into the man's hand, but the man was unmoved, far too strong for Sam.

A weak Dean then tackled the man, making him let go of Sam and Sam emerged from the water, gasping for air desperately. Dean however had staggered backwards, the man a solid mountain, and now he was angry. He struck like a snake, his staff whacking Dean in the head, chest, stomach and arms within five seconds before the staff took Dean's feet out from under him, and their attacker slammed the staff down on Dean's stomach, making him cry out in pain as he did so. Sam then leapt on the man, pulling him away from Dean, but the man simply seized Sam's right arm and yanked, hard.

Sam screamed as his arm was dislocated and he was then picked from his attacker's back and slammed hard into the ground, knocking the wind from him. Dean seized Sam's gun and opened fire too, but once again, it was of no use, though he largely missed his target his arm was shaking so badly. Sam kicked out, gasping in pain as it hurt him more than their opponent and the man kicked Sam in the chin to teach him a lesson. Dean shot the last bullets at the man's leg, but it didn't work, only succeeding in making him angrier. The man hoisted Dean up by the neck, making Dean's legs kick helplessly in the air before their foe started hammering Dean's face with his fists. Bloodied and bruised, Dean yelled in protest as he was thrown viciously to the floor, and then basically slung across the floor, cracking his head on the edge of the sofa.

Sam then stabbed upwards with the broken table leg, also only infuriating their attacker. He crushed Sam's wrist, making Sam yell in pain as the bones broke. He was then picked up and had his head smashed through the window, Sam crying in pain as the shards of glass embedded in his face. He was then lobbed across the room, crashing through one of the through walls which left him stirring feebly in a cascade of damaged wood.

Dean was struggling to his bag, and finally seized Ruby's dagger from it. The man bent down and pummelled Dean's stomach with his fist in retaliation, but Dean then slashed upward with the blade. It didn't do anything other than leave a minute scratch on the man's chest. He gave a cold, chilling laugh before he threw Dean up into the ceiling. Dean cried out in pain as he slammed there, crying even more as he slammed back down. Sam had moved from the rubble and threw a brick at the man weakly, but weakened as he was, it did nothing.

The man turned and fixed his sightless eyes on Sam. Kicking Dean in the head once again, he hoisted Dean up and slammed his head into the kitchen bunker before crashing it off the edge of the oven. Dean howled in pain as he did so, and then with a vicious snarl, the man drove his hand into a drawer and slammed it shut, making Dean scream as the bones shattered. He then bodily threw Dean into the wall beside the door and their bags. Dean, barely conscious, gave a groan and slid down the wall, blood smearing it from the various wounds he now had. The man then threw his staff, impaling it in Dean's shoulder, but overcome with pain all Dean did was hiss slightly as he fought to remain conscious.

The man then advanced on a weakly recovering Sam, and a boot then cracked several of Sam's ribs which made him yell in pain. The man then hoisted Sam up by his wet hair, crashing his head through more remains of the damaged wall. Sam was coughing weakly and his hands were feebly trying to face him off, but it was no use. The man then hoisted him into the air, hand tight around Sam's throat and he began to choke, weakly struggling to free himself. The man smiled sadistically as Sam struggled, gasping for air, eyes rolling as his legs kicked feebly and his hands pawed at the big man. The man then slammed Sam into the wall, eliciting a strangled, pained gurgle from Sam before he too was punched several times in the gut and face. Sam and Dean were about to die, that much was clear.

Sam was choking, his life leaving him, he was about to die, his eyes were rolling, his breaths coming in fewer and fewer desperate breaths...

"Sam-" Dean cried and with his remaining strength he threw the archangel sword from the year before to his brother.

And, as if by some miracle, it went the entire way and landed deftly in Sam's hand. Sam gave a final chocked gasp and with all his remaining strength, he slashed the blade towards their attacker's neck.

And to his great surprise the head came flying off, showering Sam in his geysering blood. However, he had cut his head off mid action, and now Sam, thrown by reflex and momentum, flew through the air and crashed into the wall, his head slamming through one of the remaining windows. The body then collapsed, flooding the floor with his red blood as Sam's prone form collapsed back into the cabin, right beside his fading brother, who was struggling to breathe.

"Sammy..." he whispered frantically, fighting to keep his eyes open before he passed out.

They had both been flattened, and both weren't far from death that much was obvious. They'd never been beaten like that before, by anyone. Who the hell was that guy?

A coughing fit felt like it nearly killed Dean, and he spat up a lump of blood and a few teeth as he sagged further down the wall. Sam was barely breathing, his face pale and his body broken, just like his own.

They needed help, they needed to escape, but the hospital, Muller, what...

And the answer struck him as he looked at a floorboard. Tears filling his eyes due to the pain, his broken hand laid on his brother's wet and bloodied forehead, with a last burst of effort, the hardwired command 'protect Sammy' kicking in, with a final push Dean made the call, his voice slurred and weak. And then, his energy spent, the phone fell from his hand and his body keeled over, his head lying on Sam's stomach as both brothers fought for their lives while the decapitated corpse spewed out more blood.

XX

Jody had been in her garden, planting new flowers when the phone rang.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Jody..." Dean's ragged and pained voice rasped and Jody's eyes widened in shock.

"Dean, where are you, where have you been, we've been worried sick, we've not heard from you or Sam in a year..." she prattled, but then she heard Dean give a painful sounding cough.

"Help. Rufus' cabin. Attacked. Dying. Human. Sam, help!" he pleaded and the line went dead with a weak groan.

Jody got to her feet in shock. Whatever the hell had happened, it wasn't good. No phone call like that could be good. So, abandoning all pretence, she picked up her gun from inside the house, slammed the door to lock it and headed for her police car. Time was of the essence.

She had Winchesters to save.

And that is the end of the first story of the arc!

The alchemist is dead, Jacob is neutralised but as we've just seen the boys problems are far from over. Mueller wants them for his own ends, there are sinister schemes afoot in the shadows on top of that.

But worse than that, the boys are now the target of a new group of villains, the Perpurigo, and the Ancilla just flattened them! As Sam and Dean barely cling to life, will Jody get there in time to save them? And speaking of saving, was Dean's throw impressive or what? Just saying.

So, we've finished the first story, its been good to be back writing the boys again, I have missed writing them, and we've only just begun. I'll start the second story tomorrow, heres a hint: Season Five. Anyway, hope you enjoyed my return, I did enjoy writing it, and you can help me celebrate not having work tomorrow by leaving me lots and lots of reviews!

Until next time then, and the start of a new story, please read and review review review!