Disclaimer: I'm borrowing Supernatural and its characters. I've never been to Sica Hollow or South Dakota. I apologize if I don't accurately represent it. Plot and OCs (unfortunately) are mine.

Well, I'm back. This time with a multi-chapter flashback. This fic primarily explores Sam's relationship with his dad. As requested, it will be told from both Sam's AND Dean's point of view. There is some hurt!Dean and protective!Sam, but this is a primarily Sam centric piece (just preparing everyone). Expect large amounts of hurt!Sam and protective!John…er…and angry!John…and angry!Sam. The OCs are there for a reason and will have much less to do and say as the story progresses.

Sam's obnoxiously 13 (almost 14) in this. Dean's 18.

Also, as with most of my multi-chapter stories, this is a mystery. Figure it out as we go along and pay attention to seemingly random details, they may be important later.

Dean plowed forward; pushing branches and leaves out of his way as he pushed through the forest. Only a few feet ahead of him were Keith and Doug Gervich, sons of Dennis Gervich, a good friend of their father's. They had been in the Prairie Coteau Hills of South Dakota for only two days so far, but already Dean could see why this place was at the top of the "spookiest places in the world" list.

For one thing, here they were in early spring, in a forest, surrounded by pine trees, and yet, there were no bugs, there were no animals, there were no birds…in fact, other than their own footsteps, there was no sound at all. And if that wasn't eerie enough, they were following along a creek that bubbled red water. According to Keith, the Native Americans of the area believed that the water was actually the blood of their ancestors. And, of course, therefore, no Native Americans would set foot in the area.

The Gervich's lived here. Dennis and his two sons were hunters- of both the normal and supernatural variety- and had no need to travel to find hunts because this particular area provided all the hunts they could ever need.

Dennis had called their father last week, asking for assistance with a ghost. The forest was ancient and the supernatural entities that roamed the haunted area were also ancient- and that's what the Gervich's specialized in. This ghost, apparently, was not ancient and therefore seemed to be giving the hunters a bit of trouble. So it was with no small amount of resistance from Sam, that the Winchesters packed their bags and temporarily moved to Lake City, South Dakota- just outside the infamous Sica Hollow State Park.

Sam was almost fourteen now and adolescence seemed to run over his personality, replacing it with an ugly attitude and a disrespectful outlook. It was only a year ago that Sammy had dutifully followed his father and brother around- proud to be a hunter- proud to be making an impact on the world. Now Sam had taken Sammy's place. Sam wanted to be "normal," whatever the hell that was. Sam was too good for hunting. Sam wanted to spend the entire school year in one place. Sam wanted reasons for everything and anything that Dean or their father decided. Dean sighed…he missed Sammy.

"This is stupid."

Speak of the devil… Dean turned in time to watch Sam fight his way out of several thorny bushes. The boy grumbled as he wrestled with the plants, scratching himself and ripping his clothing in the process. Dean sighed and stopped walking as he impatiently waited for his brother.

"Stop fighting with it. You're just getting yourself more caught up. Ease out of the branches slowly." Twenty-year-old Keith's voice rang out from behind Dean.

In response, Sam slowed his movements and lifted his scratched face to glare at the eldest Gervich boy. "Bite me."

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. He loved Sam- really- but there were moments, many as of recently, where he was honestly ashamed to be related to someone so disrespectful and grumpy.

Dean tried to curb his brother's attitude. "He's trying to help you, dude. Keith and Doug know this forest-"

Sam interrupted with a snort of disbelief. "Right. That's why I'm getting cut up while looking for Bigfoot."

Sam turned back to his fight with the bush as Doug defended himself. "Bigfoot really does live here. The reason we haven't found him yet is because you keep talking, which lets him know where we are."

Sam finally stumbled out of the branches. "No. We haven't found him yet because Bigfoot is imaginary…kind of like your sex life."

Dean shut his eyes, wincing at the reaction that comment might cause. Behind him, he heard Keith snicker and then apologize. "Sorry bro, just…that was a good one."

Dean watched as Doug moved towards Sam. "Look. If you don't want to be here, then go. Nobody's making you come."

Sam crossed his arms. "That's not true. My dad's making me come. I don't want to be here. I don't even want to be in this state-"

Dean had had enough. "Oh my God, Sammy, if I have to hear one more time that you'd rather be back in Baltimore I will gag you and tape your mouth shut myself. We're here. We're here, dude. We're not going back to Baltimore. Get over it. And get over it fast because your attitude is really starting to piss me off."

Sam raised his brows in challenge. Then, crossing his legs, he sat.

Keith questioned him. "What are you doing?"

Sam didn't speak, but Dean already knew the answer. Sam was refusing to move, and therefore stopping all of them from moving on. "Sam, get up."

Still, Sam sat, his head turned toward the side, his lips shut.

Apparently, Doug caught on to Sam's plan as well; he turned back toward the trail. "Hey, he wants to sit there? Leave him."

Unfortunately, 'leaving him' was not a possibility. Dad's orders: stay together. Dean glared down at his brother. He had really been looking forward to seeing Bigfoot. This was supposed to be a good day. His father and Dennis were doing the hunt research and had given the day off to their sons. They would all hunt together tonight, but for now, he had a day's vacation. He was hanging out with two other hunters, one his age, the other only two years older and they were nice enough guys. But Bigfoot? He had always wanted to see Bigfoot. Bigfoot was a classic. And the Gervich boys had already seen him. Bigfoot was here and as it stood right now, Dean wouldn't get to see him. And all because Sam was still pissed that their father had made them move. Fine Sam was pissed, but there was nothing he could do about the move, so he needed to get over it and more importantly- stop taking it out on Dean.

Dean took two steps forward. "Sam…" this would be Sam's last warning, "…get…up…now."

Dean watched his brother tense at the tone, but Sam was a Winchester and intimidated or not, Sam didn't move.

Dean nodded. "All right. That's it. You're dead."

That got a reaction from Sam. Before Dean even finished speaking, Sam had shouted "no!", jumped up, and began running. Out for the kill, Dean chased after him, ducking branches, fumbling over roots, and sprinting at top speed- until he forgot to duck.

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Sam kept running for all he was worth. Dean was fast, much faster than him, and Dean was probably right behind him. Sparing the time to check would slow him down too much. Vaguely he tried to listen for his brother's footsteps, but it was hard to hear anything over the sound of his own footsteps, heavy breath, and racing heart.

Finally, after about two minutes of running, Sam began to slow down. He was out of breath, but that had little to do with it. He needed to hear Dean's footsteps. He wanted to get away from Dean- far enough that Dean couldn't grab him and throw him onto the ground or do anything else to him…but to actually get away from Dean- far enough that Dean didn't know where he was and vice versa- that was bad.

Not hearing anything behind him, nor feeling Dean tackling him to the ground, Sam stopped and turned around. His heart pounded in his chest as he realized that he was surrounded by nothing but forest. The silence was deafening. There wasn't even a wind rustling through the trees. No bugs, no animals, no noises at all. Even the sound of his own heavy breathing seemed to be swallowed up by the forest. Now Dean was really going to kill him.

Biting his lip, Sam slowly and carefully began to retrace his steps. Luckily, his running through the forest had left a clear trail through the shrubs. He breathed in relief. If he had left a clear trail, Dean should come running into view any minute now.

"You think they left you?"

Sam froze as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Slowly, he looked to his right. Sitting on a nearby rock was a pale, semi-transparent ghost. The ghost looked to be about his age and was clad in corduroy pants and a light t-shirt. The ghost stood up and began walking toward him.

"I heard them before…they weren't very nice to you…"

Backing up into a tree, Sam felt through his pockets for something to use against the ghost. He knew this ghost. This was the ghost that they had been sent here to hunt, the ghost of Trevor Macks, a boy who had been murdered nine years ago and had been killing people in the local park ever since. The only thing was, Trevor hadn't been killing in this park.

"Are you afraid of me? I'm not going to hurt you…"

Sam stared back at the ghost, trying to figure out what to do. He had no salt or iron on him, Dean was m.i.a., and his father was researching this ghosts remains in another park.

"My name's Trevor."

Sam let out a short laugh. Yeah- he knew that…he was totally screwed.

"What's your name?"

Sam sighed. His only chance was to try to talk his way out of whatever was about to happen. If that was even possible, but there really wasn't anything else he could do. He doubted he'd be able to out run a ghost. "My name's Sam."

The ghost nodded and stepped back. "How come you're afraid of me?"

Sam gave the boy an obvious look. "Because you're dead?"

Trevor put his head down, appearing on the verge of tears. Turning away from Sam, the boy began to look around the forest. He spoke in a whisper. "I can't get out of here."

Sam found himself somewhat intrigued. He had met several murderous ghosts over the past few years and yet this ghost, despite his reputation, really didn't seem that dangerous. Throwing caution to the wind, Sam took a step towards his dead companion. "What do you mean?"

The ghost turned back, now visibly crying. "He kills me over and over again, every night. I can't get away from him."

Sam shook his head, now he was totally confused. According to the Gervichs' research, the ghost of Trevor Macks had been seen hovering around various different dead people in Roy Lake State Park. The people had all died in various different ways, nothing tying their deaths together other than the apparition. But that story and Trevor's weren't gelling. "Who kills you? You're already dead."

The ghost sat on the rock and nodded. "I can't find my way out of here. I'm not allowed to leave I think and every night…I don't know who he is, but he comes and kills me again and I can't stop it. It's like I forget and I do everything the same way again."

Sam nodded; he was beginning to understand. "So you relive your murder every night?"

The ghost nodded and then looked up at the sky. "It'll happen again really soon." He pointed up behind Sam. "The sun's starting to set. He kills me right after."

Sam looked over to where the boy was pointing. "Shit." Dean was seriously going to kill him. And suddenly Sam began to feel frightened again. Where the hell was Dean? Dean could track anything anywhere…even without having an obvious trail to follow. Had Dean actually let him run off in the middle of the woods? Sam found that hard to believe, but if Dean had ditched him, it would almost be better than Sam having run off with Dean unable to find him. At least if Dean ditched him, Dean wouldn't be as pissed.

A rustling in the trees caused both Sam and the ghost to jump. These trees didn't rustle- there was no wind or animals. Cautiously, Sam called out, "Dean?"

Trevor shook his head. "It's time. He's coming. Get out of here Sam."

Sam turned back to the ghost. "Wait. Who killed you?" Obviously his father and Dennis were on the wrong trail with this ghost hunt. If Sam could figure it out himself, maybe he could finally be treated like he was an equal member of the family rather than the baby who didn't get an equal say or an equal responsibility or, most importantly, an equal respect.

Suddenly, an incredible tall, overweight man marched out of the trees; his eyes set on Trevor. Trevor panted from his rock. "You can't do this."

The overweight man smiled and walked forward. Both Sam and the ghost backed away from him. Sam had no idea if the man was only after Trevor, or if he would harm Sam as well, but he wasn't about to find out. The man charged forward and both boys turned on their heels and began running.

Running full speed from the large man, Sam had only one thing on his mind: he had to find Dean. He wanted to be able to handle this himself, but with his lack of weapons, and his lack of height and weight, now was not the time to be proud. He needed help and Dean would help him. The only problem…he had no idea where Dean was.

Deciding to break away from his ghostly companion, Sam made a sharp turn to the left. Unfortunately, Trevor took that same moment to turn right. Sam fell to the floor as he collided with the specter.

Not wasting any more time, Sam jumped back to his feet and resumed his dash. He had to make it across the field to get onto the other side of the park. From there, he could reach the road.

Wait…an eerie feeling enveloped Sam…how did he know how to get back to the road? He had no idea where he was.

"I think I'm in you."

Sam gasped and stopped, forgetting about the man who was chasing him. He was possessed by a ghost.

"Keep running Sam. He'll catch us."

Sam shook his head. "Get out."

All of a sudden, a feeling of surprise and hope filled him and with a detached sensation, Sam realized that he was feeling the ghost's feelings. "I can change. Things aren't happening the same way. We can change it!"

Sam stomped his foot. "We nothing. Get out."

The bushes rustled and Sam found himself once again running through the forest at top speed. The field was close enough now that he could see it. Fear flooded him and Sam realized that the man had caught Trevor in the field. That was where he had died.

Quickly Sam looked to the left and the right to find a path where he could avoid the field. Unfortunately, the trees on either of the trail were to thick to navigate through at his current speed. Although Trevor had seemingly been broken out of his compulsion to relive his death, the murderer was not possessing anyone and hopefully would not be able to change course.

Sam looked at the field, if he could turn right immediately upon entering the field, maybe he could get out of the murderer's path. The second he entered the field, Sam made his turn.

A weight slammed into him from behind and terror shot through his body. The man was going to kill him. He could feel his arms tingling as the adrenaline rushed through his system. The man's heaviness was crushing as he landed on top of him. He tried to fight, to move, but the man's weight barely allowed him to breathe. Sam felt the tears sting his eyes as both he and Trevor flooded his body with panic and fear.

The man somehow managed to roll Sam over so that they were now face to face. Sam stared up into the large cheeks and beady blue eyes. The murderer was smiling, a gapped toothed smile, surrounded by an uneven shave. Drool dribbled down the man's chin and onto Sam's face. The smell of morning saliva filled his nostrils.

"You've been bad, but this feels real good."

Tears rolled out the side of Sam's eyes. The man's crushing weight was still upon him and somehow the murderer had pinned both of Sam's arms above his head with one arm. There was nowhere to go, no way to run. Dread filling his body, Sam asked Trevor if he'd been raped before he died. Trevor didn't think so, but either way the death wouldn't be a pleasant experience.

Not knowing what to do, Sam did the only thing he could. "Dean!"