Hey guys, we're back with another S13 fic! A while back WhiteWolfPrincess95 requested a story with kidnapped Jack but I didn't get around to writing it until now. She also helped me brainstorm this one, so thanks again, I hope you enjoy this ^_^

This is essentially an AU of ep 13x7 "War of the Worlds" so there will be some dialogue taken from that.

No Place Like Home

A Supernatural Fanfic

Chapter One

Jack stood on the side of the street, arms hugged close to his chest as he watched the rain drizzling from under the store awning where he was standing, trying to stay as dry as possible. He was cold, only having the clothes on his back, and hungry, not having found anything to eat since yesterday. He also hurt, somewhere deep inside his chest, though he was unsure of why; as far as he could tell it wasn't a physical wound. He didn't know why he felt so heavy. He also couldn't explain why the one image that kept coming back to him was his small room back at the Winchester's bunker. He may not sleep much, but oh, how he would love to sleep in a real bed again when he was exhausted.

He was angry, he realized. Angry about his powers. He was so scared of hurting someone, and yet, he hadn't done so since that security guard, he hadn't really used his powers at all since he ran away except to teleport when he needed to get away fast. That was something he could do. But for as powerful as he was, he couldn't make himself less hungry, or less cold. His powers never did anything useful, they were only good for hurting people. Jack wondered what would happen if he never used them again.

He had tried to open a portal to the other world again, but he couldn't figure out how he had done it the first time. He had tried researching like Sam taught him to, but again came up with nothing. None of the libraries he had gone to had the extensive collection of books like the bunker did. But he wanted to bring Sam and Dean's mother back to them since he would never see his own again. He remembered Mary Winchester briefly from when he had been born. She had seemed nice. He wondered if maybe she could be a mother to him as well.

But he would never know if he couldn't even get her out of there. Not even do the one good thing he might be able to use his powers for. Jack's shoulders slumped and he moved from under the awning, hunching his shoulders against the rain and began walking down the sidewalk.

He realized all he really wanted was to go home.

Maybe he would.

It took him a moment to notice that a black vehicle was following his path, driving slowly down the road. He tensed, but he couldn't fly away, not while people were watching. The Winchesters had told him it wouldn't be a good idea for people to see what he could do.

However, the vehicle pulled to a stop a few yards down the road from him and a man got out of the passenger seat. He was tall, but not as tall as Sam or Dean, with dark hair, and he was dressed in a suit, like the ones the Winchesters wore when they pretended to be FBI.

He smiled as he came forward. "Are you Jack Kline?" he asked.

Jack frowned. This man wasn't a demon, or an angel, he could tell that much—Castiel had taught him how he could sense the auras of angels and demons. This man was just a human. So…he probably wasn't a danger. At least he probably wasn't from Asmodeus.

"Yes," Jack replied slowly, still cautious.

"I'm glad we found you," the man said. His voice had a strange accent that Jack hadn't heard except on movies like Lord of the Rings. "I'm a friend of Sam and Dean Winchester, we've been looking for you."

"Why?" Jack asked, though he knew why. Knew that the Winchesters and Castiel wouldn't leave him out here and probably would have recruited help. He was actually surprised they hadn't found him before this.

"Sam and Dean are in trouble," the man explained, though didn't really look worried. "They need your help."

Jack's brow furrowed. "They're in trouble?" he asked. "Are they okay?"

The man shrugged. "We don't know, they've gone missing. But they could really use your help on this. I'm sure your powers will come in handy."

Jack bristled slightly at that. As usual, it was just his powers that people saw when they looked at him. But…if Sam and Dean were in trouble, he had to help them. They were his family.

"Okay," he said.

The man smiled and reached out to settle a hand on Jack's shoulder, pulling him toward the back of the vehicle. "Thank you, Jack. You look cold."

"I am," Jack replied in defeat.

"Probably hungry too," the man added.

Jack just nodded, looking down at his feet, splashing in the puddles on the road.

The man clapped him on the shoulder and reached out to open the double doors on the back of the vehicle. "Don't worry, we'll get you taken care of soon enough." He opened the door and pushed Jack inside.

Jack climbed into the dark vehicle and blinked to adjust his sight. He had only a moment to register that there were at least four more men in the back before the door closed and they made a lunge at him. Jack jerked back, but something that felt like lightning slammed into his side below his ribs and he fell to the ground, spasming. Before he could recover, hands were on him, forcing cold metal bands around his wrists and ankles. He tried to struggle, but the men just forced him down harder.

Angry, Jack felt his powers start to build. He growled, and he felt his eyes flick to gold. He knew he could kill everyone in here if he wanted to.

"Subdue him, dammit!" a voice yelled and Jack felt a pinch in his neck.

A cold wave washed over him, forcing his powers down instantly. He tried to yell, but only a whimper escaped his throat. He struggled weakly, but could barely move.

The bodies started to pile off of him, but even then all he could do was lie there, limp, on the floor of the vehicle.

They started moving, and one of the men who had taken him down, kicked him in the side.

"You better stay down if you know what's good for you, nephillim," he said. He also had the same accent as the man who had approached Jack on the street. "We have ways of dealing with your kind."

Jack didn't say anything. He couldn't. Another strong shockwave tore through him, and he realized one of the men was holding something with a button on it that was obviously doing this to him. He turned to glare at the man and was rewarded by another shock that was so powerful Jack felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

He tried one last attempt to struggle out of his cuffs, but by then he was completely gone, unable to do anything as darkness took him over.

Arthur Ketch stepped out of the van and buttoned up his suit coat, stepping over to the rear of the vehicle to watch his hired help lift the Winchesters' nephillim out of the back. The boy was limp, obviously having been rendered unconscious. Ketch was pleased to see that the amped up angel gear had worked on a nephillim after all. He'd been a little worried, but it seemed that this creature was not all powerful as they had thought.

He strode toward the door of the makeshift facility. It was not nearly as big as the other one they had occupied, the one that Sam Winchester and his group of filthy hunters had blown up, but a secondary research outpost, where they put the boffins to do their research. Thankfully, they had escaped the Winchester reign of terror and had decided to stay to conclude their research before they packed up and went back to dear old Blighty.

Ketch might not have ever truly liked the stuck up little boffins, but at the moment, they were willing to pay anyone dearly for the capture of the nephillim that was the spawn of Lucifer himself. And Ketch needed the cash, now he was on the outs with the Men of Letters.

And no, this wasn't a plea to take him back, he was actually rather happy with his newfound independence, but it would be enough for them to stay off his back and not tell the Old Men back in England that he was, indeed, still alive. Especially if he continued to bring them fine specimens like the nephillim.

Dr. Karen Mayfield met him as he came in, and her perpetual scowl told of how little she enjoyed seeing him.

"Ketch," she murmured.

Ketch gave her a charming grin and nodded to the men behind him. "Karen, I found what you were looking for."

Her eyes lit up slightly at that, and she nodded to the men. "Bring it in."

Ketch motioned the men forward, and they brought the nephillim into the facility. Dr. Mayfield led them to another room, and as she opened the door with the palm scanner, there Ketch heard some growls and whimpers from the small prison's other occupants.

Ketch glanced around with a brow raised. "I see you've been busy. Got anything new for me to try out?"

"Not for you," she said firmly. "At least not yet." She opened a door to a small, unfurnished cell and the men dropped the nephillim unceremoniously onto the ground before they backed away.

Dr. Mayfield knelt and produced something from her lab coat, which she fixed around the nephillim's neck.

Ketch watched curiously. "Are you sure that will hold him?"

Mayfield stood back up. "We're not sure of anything, but you obviously managed to subdue him with what you had, and this is a built in shock-collar." She pulled a small button from her pocket to show him. "It emits an electromagnetic pulse that we've found to be effective even on angels."

"Well, I certainly look forward to seeing what you come up with next," Ketch said. "Let me know if you decide to do anything exciting."

"I assure you, you'll be the last to know," she said blandly and pushed Ketch out of the room before locking the door tight. "Now please, my team and I have prep to do. I don't need the likes of you hanging around."

Ketch's eye twitched, but he did as she asked, motioning to his men to follow him. "And the payment?"

"Ask Jones, he handles the finances," she said, already walking away.

Yes, Ketch hated the research teams.

But no matter, he had a big paycheck coming his way, and now he could start to think of his next big target.

After all, it was probably only a matter of time before the Winchesters and their pet angel showed up for the newest member of their little cabal.

Jack woke on a hard surface, his body aching. He pried his eyes open and tried to sit up but his arms and legs wouldn't cooperate. Upon further inspection, he realized his wrists and ankles had been chained together, just like they had been before, when the men had put him into that big, dark vehicle.

Jack couldn't remember what had happened after that, when they had hurt him with the rod that felt like it had lightning in it, but he could see he was no longer in the vehicle.

He seemed to instead be in a small concrete room with a heavy metal door that only had a small barred window near the top of it. Jack tried to reach for his powers to break the chains around his wrists, but they only seemed to start burning, and he finally gave up as the pain seared into his skin. He then turned to struggle into a sitting position and after long last managed at least that, and sat slumped against the wall of the cell, panting.

Again, he tried to reach for his powers, wondering if he could blow the door down, but the searing pain started around the cuffs on his wrists. He also realized there was something heavy and hard locked around his throat that burned and began to cut off his air the more he reached for his powers. So he stopped, and instead began to take stock of his surroundings.

"Is someone out there?" he called. "Please! I don't belong here!"

He didn't even know where 'here' was, though he was pretty sure this wasn't a good place to be. He was also pretty sure now that Sam and Dean were not in trouble at all, and that the man in the suit had only told him that so that he could capture him. Jack wondered why though. Why would a human want him? He could understand if it were demons or even angels, but just a human? Maybe he was a hunter. He did know Jack's name and obviously knew Sam and Dean. Maybe he was an enemy of them and he wanted to use Jack as bait.

That made Jack angry. He wasn't going to let himself be used as bait so someone could hurt his friends. He had to find a way to get out of there.

Before he could try anything else, he heard footsteps outside his room, coming closer, and then there was a beeping sound, and the door to the cell popped open, revealing two men in white coats.

Jack shuffled as far away from them as possible, his back bumping against the wall. He felt scared and vulnerable without the use of his powers in this strange place.

"Please, I don't belong here," he tried. "There must have been some mistake. I just want to go home to my friends."

They acted like they hadn't heard him at all, simply stepping into the room and each taking one of his arms. They hauled him upright and then dragged him since his feet were still chained together and he couldn't walk. Jack struggled, trying to wriggle from their grasp, but one of the men growled and reached for something at his belt. Jack suddenly felt a shocking pain rip through him, coming from the collar around his throat. He cried out, his body falling limp without warning. He found he couldn't move at all and nearly panicked.

However, by the time the men took him through another door they had to open with their hand, his body was beginning to tingle, and the feeling was starting to come back. He twitched, thinking that he might be able to make a run for it if they took these manacles off of him.

They dragged him through the door and stopped, hands still clamped firmly around his arms. Jack craned his neck to look around the room. He didn't like what he saw. There was a lot of strange machinery that sort of reminded him of what was in the war room back at the bunker. A lot of buttons and screens that probably showed something important. Of course, this equipment worked, while they never used the stuff at the bunker.

That didn't particularly alarm him, but there were other items in the room too, like a large steel table that looked like the ones Jack had seen in a morgue Sam had taken him to on one of their hunts. That, he did not like the looks of.

A woman, dressed in the same white coat as the men came over, her heels clicking on the floor.

"Where do you want the specimen, Doctor?" one of the men who held Jack asked.

She nodded to the table, and Jack felt something twist in his stomach. Wait, 'specimen'? Were they talking about him?

"Please, you don't have to do this," he started to say as they dragged him the rest of the way over to the table. "I don't belong here. My name is Jack Kline. Please let me go."

They didn't pay any attention to him, however, and the men simply lifted him up and he found himself lying on his back on the cold, hard table.

Several more people wearing white coats converged and began attaching him to the table and no amount of pleading on Jack's part stopped anything. They didn't seem to be paying attention to him at all, just rattling off instructions to each other that Jack didn't truly understand.

The one thing he did realize though was that this wasn't about torture as he had initially thought. No, they didn't want any information out of him, not the kind he could tell them with words, anyway. They seemed, instead, to think of him as a science experiment. Dean had once said that he couldn't use his powers in front of humans unless he wanted to get dragged off to a place called 'Area 51' where government scientists would experiment on him. Maybe that's what this was. But he hadn't done anything to raise alarms, not that he could remember.

And yet here he was, completely helpless, and at the mercy of humans. The one time he would have liked to have his powers at his disposal and he couldn't even use them.

It seemed that he really wasn't good for anything at all. He hurt people he didn't mean to, and he couldn't even save himself.

Perhaps it was better he was here after all. At least he wouldn't have to worry about accidently hurting someone.