Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW. I own nothing.

AN- I found this when I was cleaning out my Dropbox. I started it last year after a flurry of stories where Mary didn't die. The boys disappeared instead. The boys were either found or put in foster care with Mary and John. Anyway, the majority of the stories had an emotionally and physically scarred Dean while Sammy was a happy oblivious little kid. And while Dean would definitely attempt to protect Sammy from abuse, he wouldn't be able to prevent it from ever happening. And Sammy would be very aware of the abuse.

So, I started this one but it kind of got pushed to the side and forgotten until now.

SPN

John sat on the hood of the impala cradling a sleeping Dean and Sammy while he watched the smoldering embers of what used to be his home. He still wasn't quite sure what had happened. He could have sworn his Mary had been pinned to the ceiling; that he'd had to use all his strength to pry her off. But that couldn't have happened. People didn't get stuck to the ceiling like that. And then there was the fire. It had suddenly shot out from around his beloved wife. It looked like someone had made a circle of gasoline around her and then threw a match on it only there had been no gas or match. The fire had just magically started. But those things were impossible. Yet that was what he had seen. What was going on? What had really happened and why was his family or more specifically his youngest son targeted? He glanced down at the peacefully sleeping infant. John wasn't sure why but he had a horrible feeling that the fire had something to do with Sammy. Mary had been right above the baby's crib and the fire seemed to almost reach out to their precious son. Why would anything want…?

"Mr. Winchester, could we talk to you for a moment?" Sheriff Daniels asked as he came up beside the clearly shell shocked father.

John slowly lifted his head and looked at the officer. "I, I" he quietly stammered, glancing back down at his sons. "My, my boys are sl-sleeping and I'd rather, rather not wake th-them."

"I'll watch them for you John." a feminine voice softly called from the other side of the classic car.

Both men turned to see the Winchester's newest neighbor, Judith Anderson, walking towards them.

John tightened his grip on his children. "Thanks, but I'd rather keep them with me." He sternly replied, wincing as Dean shifted in his sleep. Lowering his voice and softening his tone, the Winchester patriarch looked back at the cop and asked, "Can't we do this tomorrow?"

The sheriff shook his head. "I really need to talk to you tonight, son." he answered. "It won't take long. I promise. The Fire Chief and I just need to go over a few things with you."

John glanced from his sleeping boys to Ms. Anderson and then the sheriff before finally nodding. "Alright" he agreed. "But just for a minute. I don't want Dean waking up and finding me gone."

"Understood" Sheriff Daniels said. He waited for the younger man to hand off his children and then the two walked over to the fire truck where the chief was waiting.

SPN

"And that's all I remember." John finished.

Fire Chief Holmes nodded. "So you didn't actually see what started the fire?"

John huffed. "Like I told you, Mary was…

"DADDY! DADDY!"

John's head whipped around at the terrified scream. Spying Dean sitting alone on the car, the former Marine sprinted over to his son. He scooped up his crying child and hugged him to his chest. "Shhh, it's alright Dean. Everything's going to be alright." He whispered. While he comforted his eldest, his eyes darted around for any sign of his youngest. He couldn't see Sammy or Ms. Anderson. Trying not to panic, John looked down at his sniffling four year old. "Dean, do you know where Ms. Anderson went with Sammy? Did she go to change his diaper or something?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't know where Sammy is daddy." He tiredly replied. "He wasn't here when I woke up. Nobody was here."

"Shit!" John exclaimed.

"Mr. Winchester, what's going on? What's wrong?" Sheriff Daniels asked as finally got to father and son.

"That bitch took Sammy!" John hollered. "She kidnapped my son!"

The sheriff's eyes went wide. "Sir, sir just calm down. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for her absence." He suggested, even though deep down he knew the man was right. "I'll get my men and we'll conduct a house by house search for Ms. Anderson and Sammy. They're probably at a neighbor's house getting a clean diaper or maybe some formula for the little one. Don't worry. Wherever they are we'll find them."

Five years later

Social worker Marion Williams gazed over at the bedraggled five year old huddled in the corner and sighed. The little guy had been in her custody less than twelve hours and she already knew that he'd be almost impossible to place. He was petrified of any and all adults, something she couldn't fault him for knowing his history. But that wasn't the stumbling block to finding him a foster home nor was the fact that he hadn't left that corner except to use the facilities in all the time he'd been in the agency. No, what was going to make his placement so difficult was that he needed to be protected from certain things; certain unnatural things. It hadn't taken long in the youngster's company for Marion to deduce that. Between the record the cop's had managed to piece together and the child's sleep talk about a yellow eyed man Marion had more than enough information to decide that the five year old would have to be placed with a hunter. And there in lie the problem. The majority of hunters were solitary creatures. They hunted alone or sometimes in pairs. They might have friends and connections but she hadn't heard of any that had family. It was just too dangerous in their profession. Still, she might be able to find one that had either retired, she snorted at that thought, or was willing to retire. Actually, there was no might about it. She had to find one. Her charge had to be placed in foster care and if she couldn't find a willing hunter, he would be sent to live with some unsuspecting family. And Marion wouldn't allow that to happen. Little Sammy deserved to live and she was going to ensure that he got to. Her mind set Ms. Williams picked up the phone. Crossing her fingers that the hunter was still alive and could help, she dialed a number she hadn't used in years. Marion listened breathlessly as it rang again and again. She started to hang up after the sixth ring but just before her hand made the motion a gruff voice answered. Marion smiled. "Mr. Singer, its Marion Williams. I need your help."

AN- Well, what do you think? Keep or trash?