Chapter One
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or LOST.
Azazel smiled wide as he allowed the sensation of victory to wash over his new body. This is what it felt like after a plan came together successfully. It's what he felt every time he effectively managed to feed his blood to an infant, even if he did have a few instances under his belt where a mother had to burn on the ceiling for her perceived protectiveness.
It was one thing to have all the cards stacked in your favor and manage a win; he was used to those odds working out for him. This was so much better. This was the exact opposite of those instances with the same results at the end. What had started out as an attempt to take out the eldest Winchester and secure Sam all to himself while they were stuck on the same airplane had ended with him being forced to abandon the body he had carefully procured as their plane fell apart and crashed.
Unfortunately, he hadn't been quick enough with his escape.
He'd woken up in a tropical location and found himself in a new body, which momentarily confused him since he didn't remember taking the time to possess somebody else. It wouldn't have mattered to him, a meatsuit was a meatsuit was a meatsuit, but he could feel that his powers were severely limited in this body. That wouldn't do. His first thought was to abandon it, as well, and find something better, but his struggled attempt to escape his flesh and bone confine had been in vain. He was trapped.
While his latest body felt like it was almost entirely powerless, he could still feel the power that emanated from the jungle floor and slowly trailed up into the sky. It was almost visible to him and he knew without a doubt that this was no ordinary jungle. No matter which direction his vessel walked, he could feel the barely sustained power thrum at the bottom of his feet. As impotent as he felt, that thrum anchored him to some semblance of normalcy and he used it as a beacon to carry him onward.
Despite the circumstances, in his mind, you didn't bring down an entire operation just because the current office was unusable. There was no way in hell that he would allow over thirty years of planning and action to derail everything he had worked so hard for. He couldn't feel the presence of any other demons in the vicinity, so he would have to improvise. After all, what was a demon, but a human whose soul had been twisted and charred after decades or centuries of constant torture.
His saving grace came in the form of a desperate man that possessed the power he had spent a lifetime yearning for, only to realize that he was also staring down his own inevitable death.
If Azazel hadn't been stuck on this damn island, he would have made it a point to speak to Crowley about sending one of his crossroads demons to negotiate with Ben Linus. An additional ten years of life would have been an easy trade-off for hell to get its hooks into this man's soul. He truly felt that, in the end, there wouldn't be much that needed to be done to twist it into a demonic creature.
He grinned widely down at the smaller man in question before he turned his attention back to the bank of outdated monitors illuminated in the dark room. They both stood shoulder to shoulder and watched their unconscious captives, one with an aura of suspicion and the other with an aura of smug satisfaction.
Sam Winchester and Jack Shephard had both been placed in almost identical, yet sequestered viewing areas inside the Hydra Island's facilities. Kate Austen was laid out onto the tile floors in the communal showers outside of the station and Sawyer was haphazardly throw into one of the empty outdoor cages that the Dharma Initiative had once used to house their polar bears.
"I probably shouldn't admit this to you, but I feel extremely giddy right now," Azazel spoke up truthfully. Despite the air of casualness he constantly tried to project, Ben could hear the obvious glee in his voice and couldn't help but smile wanly back. "This couldn't have gone any better. Well done to you and your people."
Ben nodded his head in appreciation before he turned back to the monitors and pointed out the doctor on the screens. "I read through some of Jack's files that my people obtained. He truly is one of the best surgeons qualified to operate on my tumor," he admitted with a wry smile. The smile vanished as he looked up at Azazel blandly. "How did you manage to ensure that he was one of the people that ended up on this island?"
"You're actually questioning the miracle that I provided for you?" the demon chastised back sarcastically. He shook his head as Ben had the grace to appear sheepish at the rebuke before he let out an affected sigh. "That seems to be in poor taste, Ben."
"Please don't mistake my question for disrespect. I'm truly appreciative of your miracle," he quickly reassured the demon. "I even held up my end of the bargain." He pointed to the screen that contained Sam's image as Azazel smiled deeply. His yellow eyes shined victoriously at the reminder as an unexpected shudder ran down Ben's diseased spine.
"That you did, and splendidly. The capture of Sam Winchester and the demise of Dean Winchester is truly a win for our side. The end of the modern day Cain and Abel with John Winchester nowhere near to muck things up."
Henry ducked his head at his angel's mistaken belief before he quickly schooled his features. After all, it wasn't truly Ben's fault that Dean Winchester still lived. From what he knew, Dean was badly injured in Michael's attack and his injuries were adequate enough that they could fulfill their work before the elder brother even had the time to look for Sam. All would be well for them, this minor detail meant nothing. "Will there be other angels that join you to assist with your crusade?" Henry asked.
The demon almost laughed at the naivety that leaked from this man. Yes, it had come as a complete surprise to learn that he was trapped in a place that he couldn't even fully comprehend, but to realize that other people already occupied this place had been amazing luck. Upon his discovery of them and their enigmatic leader, he'd simply used his natural demonic charisma and spun a series of lies that painted his endgame into such a righteous light that Ben Linus had immediately jumped on board with his assistance. The promise and delivery of medical help for his spinal tumor had just been icing on the cake.
"This place is shielded from the other angels," the demon lied. "This is the reason why we need Sam Winchester to help us."
"But, how can HE help us?"
The demon held up one hand and then produced a small vial from behind his back with the other that was filled with a thick red substance that coated the clear glass from the interior. "We need to inject him with this. Preferably before he wakes up."
Henry took the proffered vial and examined it in his hands for a few moments before his eyes narrowed and he glanced up at the demon before him. "This looks like blood."
"It is," Azazel casually confirmed as Ben's eyes widened comically at the new information. "More specifically, it's my blood. Since my brother angels are unable to come to this island, it falls on me to ensure that Sam Winchester is ready to help me as I need him. This blood will ensure that."
"But, I can help you," Ben argued. "Why don't I inject it into myself?"
The demon fought the urge to roll his eyes and let out an irritated sigh instead. Humans would always be a nuisance to him. He wouldn't even have involved their young in his plans if Samuel Colt hadn't warded the Devil's Gate in Wyoming so strongly that no demon would ever be able to approach it for miles. Ben Linus had the perk of being useful in a useless situation and, therefore, hadn't been burned alive by now.
"My blood would likely kill you," the demon answered carefully. "Your body and blood would reject it and I won't allow that to happen. Sam, on the other hand, is a genetic match. My blood will not only improve him, but make him strong enough to stand beside me. And since we're going to inject it straight into his blood, it should take effect almost immediately. He'll be in peak condition for what we need him for."
Ben stared back down at the vial of blood in his hands with an odd expression on his face. The demon interpreted it as jealousy and was pleased to note how devoted Ben was to his delusions of what Azazel claimed to be. He still needed Ben and Ben's people, and to have their leader's undivided devotion made things much simpler. Ben slowly nodded his head as his mouth twisted into a grimace before he handed the vial back to Azazel. "Ok, now that that's settled, I want Juliet to administer this to Sam immediately. Once she's done, I'd like that daughter of yours to take care of him during his stay with us. Have her see to anything that he needs."
"Wait, what?" Henry objected in shock. Azazel turned to the smaller man and was surprised to see defiance on his features as he shook his head back and forth. "No, that is not happening. Why would you ask for Alex to oversee him? There are plenty of other people here that I can get to look after Sam Winchester instead."
"I don't want any other people to handle this," the demon argued back as his temper flared. He stared down hard at the man before him and matched his expression of defiance. Yes, this was a minor annoyance, but he was a demon and unused to being told no by anyone, especially a little piss-ant like Ben Linus. "Look, if this situation isn't acceptable to you, I can leave right now and release everybody, but that includes Jack. If the injustice of forcing your daughter to play chambermaid is worth more than your own life, just say the word and this ends now."
Ben's tense features relaxed at the threat and he shrank back in on himself as he seemed to think his angel's words over for a moment. The defiant light in his eyes died down as his shoulders slumped forwards and he nodded his head in agreement. As the demon watched the fight leave him, he smiled wide and realized that this man didn't have to kiss a red-eyed creature to hand over his soul. He'd already done it.
Before Sam could even register the dull pain and grogginess that he knew came from being drugged, he noticed the concrete. This wasn't the hatch that he had become familiar with. This room was colder and more dated. While he had been laid out on what looked like an old army cot, the walls and floor that surrounded him were all made of bland concrete.
He slowly raised his body into a seated position and couldn't help but let out a deep groan as more of his natural senses returned to him. Correction, they didn't so much return to him as they just slammed headfirst into his conscious self and forced him to catalog just how wrong his body felt. His head felt like it had been torn open and stuffed with cotton before being crudely sewn back together. His stomach felt like it was lined in lead and all he wanted to do was throw up the meager contents inside. His limbs felt too heavy to support themselves and he distinctly became aware of a sharp pain that flared to life in the crook of his arm.
He took a moment to center himself and rested his forearms on his knees as he breathed in and out deeply to quell the nausea he still felt. As he slowly lifted his head, he finally noticed the cotton ball taped down on his inner arm. It looked like the sort of thing that a nurse would use right after you received a shot or donated blood. His eyes narrowed at the small object and his mind tried to piece together all of the moments that were hazy to his memory.
He'd been out cold for long enough to be placed in a foreign room. His entire body had been sore, upon regaining consciousness, while his head had been foggy and his stomach had been queasy. All of those observations added together with the cotton ball taped over the spot where a vein would be in his arm and his anger grew immensely. They'd drugged him. Without his own awareness to protect himself, anything could have been done to him. The thought made his stomach turn even sourer.
He glanced around at his surroundings and noticed for the first time that he was all alone in this room; nobody had been placed in here with him. Were the others drugged as well? Were they even ok?
Who were these people? This unknown group of people had fooled all of the survivors and now they were paying the price for their ignorance. Four of them had been captured and Dean was still injured. The only relief he felt was that it would be a while before Dean would find out about the events surrounding Sam's current predicament, and hopefully he'd be back on their side by then.
He reached down and tore off the offending cotton ball before he rubbed his fingers over the reddened skin. His eyes narrowed in consternation as he stared down at his arm before he brought it closer to his eyes and pulled at the skin to make it as taut as possible. Two puncture marks…not one. His arm fell back to his side heavily as he tilted his head in confusion. Why had he been injected twice? Maybe it was just because whoever had done the first injection hadn't found a vein. Maybe it's because he was injected with more than just one substance.
"Oh God…why am I arguing with myself about this? Who cares?" Sam growled. His throat objected deeply to the hoarse level of his voice after being unused for so long and he instinctively placed a weak hand on his neck with a wince.
"I brought you some water for that throat," a voice spoke up contritely. Sam's head shot up so quickly that he had to close his eyes to fight off a dizzy spell before he reopened them. At the far end of the room, next to an open steel door was a young woman with a tray clutched tightly in her hands. She smiled kindly over at him before she turned to a table behind her and set the tray down to arrange the food better, which left Sam to stare at her back.
He stood as he realized that the door she had entered through was still open and quickly strode towards it to make an escape as he collided solidly with something and fell backwards on his ass. He looked up and narrowed his eyes as he finally noticed the overhead lights glint off of the clear window that was installed halfway through the room. A muffled noise sounded on the other side and he looked over at the woman's back as it shook with barely restrained laughter.
"I guess that was a testament to the cleaning powers of Windex," she chided playfully as she continued to arrange the food on the tray in front of her. Sam's annoyance rocketed at her playful tone as he stood back up, brushed himself off and placed both hands solidly on the glass. It didn't feel like normal glass. It felt rougher than normal glass. Stronger.
"I brought you some food to go with the water."
Sam glanced over at the girl and saw that she had leaned against the table behind her and watched his actions as he shook his head at her attempts at levity. "I'm not hungry," he growled. He glanced back over at her and smiled back just before he balled up one fist and swung as hard as he could at the glass. Nothing…from her or the glass. It was still intact in front of him and she hadn't so much as flinched or changed her position. No wonder she was so calm, she knew that she was safe from him no matter what he did.
"Where am I?" Sam asked her as she turned around and grabbed the tray. She stepped away from the large glass wall and knelt down next to a door Sam hadn't seen yet to the side and opened a tiny slot at the bottom before she slid the tray into his cell. Sam immediately stepped over the food, grasped the handle and pulled, cursing deeply when it remained closed.
"I hope you realize, now, that they covered all their bases with you," the woman spoke up. She pointed behind her to a camera with a red light that shined out against the darkness of the corner it was installed in. "Also, they're watching you, but can't hear you. So, try not to give them anything that they could use against you."
She nodded at Sam's shocked face and turned to walk back to the open door before she spun around one more time. "By the way, my name's Alex." She watched Sam's brow furrow at her introduction before she smiled again and turned to leave the room completely.
Sam watched her retreat in confusion. Why had she warned him about being watched but not being heard? Maybe she was a prisoner too. Maybe somebody that had earned more freedom than himself, the Toot-Toot of the Others. He took an exhausted seat on the cot he had woken up on and glanced over at the food she had left with a grimace. His stomach turned just thinking about food, but he had to admit that the small cup of water perched next to the sandwich would do wonders for his dry throat.
He reached out his hand to push himself up as the cup of water flew from the tray and crashed into the concrete wall behind him with a loud thud. He turned and stared at the water spot on the wall before he picked up the cup that had fallen onto his cot and held it, in shock. He stared down at the small item before his eyes strayed to his left hand, the one had held out as his stomach rolled again. What in the hell had just happened?
"I would have just stuck to peanut butter and jelly if I'd known you didn't like grilled cheese," Alex spoke up as she nodded down at the cold and forgotten food on the tray where she had left it hours before. "The soup's canned, though."
"Yeah, I'm sure they would have been real delicious," Sam spat at her as he kept his attention on the cup still in his hands. Strange things that he couldn't begin to explain had been happening to him for months now. He'd dreamt of Jessica's death and then watched in horror as his nightmares unfolded on a ceiling above him. He could feel things, sometimes, that led him down a path he hadn't even considered. This was the first time something physical had happened to him. He was intrigued, but also frightened.
"You know, those things are usually more useful when there's something inside of them," the girl spoke up again. Sam, once again, rolled his eyes at this girl's attempt to engage him before he set the cup down and sneered over at her.
"Can't you just leave me alone?" he snapped as he held his hands out in front of himself helplessly. "What? It's not enough that I'm stuck here, but now I have to socialize with one of my captors? Forgive me if I take a hard pass at that notion."
Alex watched him in amused silence before she shrugged her shoulders and leaned back against the same table she'd leaned against before. "I think you're boring them. I figure there's only so much they can take of you staring at a cup for hours on end. Frankly, the way they keep expecting you to do something is like they're trying to figure out who the Mother is when we're only like six episodes in."
Sam's head tilted in confusion to her reference as she let out a sheepish chuckle. "Ooops…I forgot, plane crash. You don't know what How I Met Your Mother is."
Sam's eyes widened as he realized that she was talking about a television show he had seen commercials about in a few of the motel rooms he and Dean stayed in during cases. How was that possible? She had basically just admitted and confirmed that these people had some means of communication outside of the island. Why were they here, then? Why wouldn't they help the people from his plane crash get home if they were able to or at least send messages to their loves ones that they were alright?
"Anyways, I was coming in here at a request to set up these monitors so you could see your friends and know that they were safe. Is that alright?" She stopped speaking and nodded over to a bank of monitors that Sam had noticed and written off as outdated and not functional. Was she being serious? She would actually allow him to see his friends? What if it was a trick? What if they had been recorded hours before and he was shown footage of that while they were currently being tortured? "Sam? Is that alright?"
Sam bit his tongue to stop himself from snapping at her optimistic tone and simply nodded his head as she smiled wide and walked over to the monitors to work on their set up. She glanced back over her shoulder at him once and caught him staring at her before she turned back to the machines to work. "You look especially pissed off at me," she told him wryly.
"It's not just you," Sam assured her against his better judgment. "It's your entire group. Let's see how cheerful you manage to look when you've been taken hostage away from your family and friends and then we'll talk, ok?"
"I had nothing to do with your capture," she shot back. "I was simply asked to look in on you and to see to any requests you made, that's all. Don't punish me for following orders."
"Yeah, sure…I've got a request for you," Sam bit out. "Let me go."
"I actually have to run all of your requests by them, first," she told him as she pointed up at the camera. "Maybe I'm wrong, but I have a feeling they'd deny that one."
"Son of a bitch!" Sam yelled as he hurled the cup he had been studying against the glass across from him. "Who are you people? What the hell do you want from us? From me?"
Alex stopped what she was doing and glanced over at the camera she had already pointed out before she let out a deep breath and pulled out a single wire. The red button immediately dulled as she continued to work at the counter. "I don't know why they want you, ok? They just told me to make sure that you stay comfortable." The joviality of her tone had dropped and she spoke with a more serious quality.
Sam stood up from his spot on the cot as she frantically waved him back down. "They may not be able to hear you, but they can see the both of us and once they realize that the camera's off, they're gonna come in here and I want it to look like we weren't aware of it, ok?"
Sam nodded his head even though she couldn't see and slid back down into a seated position. "Did they capture you too?"
"No, I was born and raised on this island. My dad is the leader of our group."
"Wait, your dad is Henry?" Sam seethed.
She glanced over at him, confusion etched onto her features as she shook her head. "What? No…my dad's name is Ben. You gotta be careful with him, Sam. He locked up my friend Karl, just because he thought we were more than friends. I don't know what he's capable of or what his plan is for you. He's working with someone I've never seen before. His eyes are…"
"ALEX!"
Alex jumped in shock as a man barked out her name before he walked into the room through the lone door that she had come in from moments before. He barely graced Sam with a glance, but Sam recognized him as Tom, the man from the deck with the smug smile and fake beard. "The camera feed cut out on us a few moments ago."
Sam had to bite back a laugh as Alex's eyes widened dramatically and she glanced up at the camera in a panic. "I told my dad that I didn't know all of the mechanics on this panel too well. Oh geez, I hope I didn't break something permanently."
Tom smiled down at her affectionately as he seemed to buy her innocent act and leaned over the console in order to plug the lone wire she had pulled out back in. "It's alright sweetheart. I'm sure you tried your very best."
She smiled up at his condescension and leaned forward to give him a big hug that she used as a cover to roll her eyes at Sam as Tom faced away from him. Sam couldn't help himself but to smile back at her as Tom returned the hug before he let go of her and watched as she left the room. The smile completely slipped from his face as he turned to the bank of monitors and finished the work Alex had begun until they came to life before them. Sam immediately stood up from his cot and walked as close as he could get to them so he could see with his own two eyes that everybody was alright.
"Every prisoner is allowed a little TV time, right?" Tom laughed at him before he turned and left Sam alone in the room as the door banged closed behind him.
Sam sneered after him. From the way he had acted on the dock up to his sarcastic comments and condescending treatment of Alex, he would really love to put him towards the top of his revenge list.
Nobody had come to check on Sam for several hours after Tom and Alex left his cell, but he still knew that he was being watched. That camera ignited a flame of paranoia inside of himself that he didn't like. It made him question every move he made before he even made it.
He'd made the decision to finally search through every inch of his cell that he could, but then he was nervous that anything he found would be used against him or confiscated, so he abandoned that idea. He'd considered using the time to his advantage and just working through an old training routine that he remembered his father hammering into him and Dean years before, but then he was nervous that they would know the full valor of his strength and stamina and have a formidable weapon against him. As he questioned every action, he just took another seat on the cot and thought through things in his mind, the only place nobody else could invade. He had nothing but time to kill and plenty of things to think about. Mostly, he thought about his brother's injuries and allowed the guilt to stab at him as he pictured Dean's reaction when Hurley explained to him what had happened to their group.
He thought about the injustice of Michael being allowed to leave the island with his son after the acts he had committed in order to make his escape. Those thoughts were the only identifier he had to ensure himself that he was INDEED being kept prisoner by the bad guys…by monsters. Anybody that rewarded murder and attempted murder couldn't be acknowledged as anything less in his book.
His thoughts rapidly turned to relief as each monitor quickly or slowly gave him the confirmation that each of his friends was actually still alive and seemed to be relatively alright, despite their circumstances.
Jack was the first person he identified, stuck in accommodations similar to his own. While Sam used the time he had alone to keep himself centered and calm, at least on the outside, Jack was a stark contrast. Almost immediately from the moment he woke up, he raged at the empty room, threw any object he could find against the glass and screamed at the lone blonde woman that continued to come and check on him. Dean had warned Sam about Jack's impetuousness and he had to figure that if it chose any moment to rear its head, this was that justifiable moment.
He next watched Sawyer as he came awake in what looked like an oversized animal cage. He was amused to watch the southern redneck try to figure out the mechanics inside of his cage in vain. His observations of Sawyer had given him the most hope as a young man in the cage across from him managed to escape from his cage and helped Sawyer escape from his before they'd both run in opposite directions. That hope had lasted less than ten minutes when the image showed the movement of two large men dragging Sawyer across the screen before they deposited him back into his enclosure.
As the hours slowly ticked by, his anxiety for Kate increased with each moment that none of the monitors showed her image. It wasn't until the day had very nearly concluded that he was finally rewarded for each agonizing moment as she was deposited into the now empty cage across from Sawyer, clad in a dress she hadn't been wearing upon their capture. She seemed sallow, meek and defeated as it looked like Sawyer tried to talk her up without success. Immediately, his mind conjured up every bad scenario she could have been subjected to from simple fear of an unknown situation to rape. His rage got the better of him at the latter thought and he had to force it and the bile that threatened to rise up his throat back down before he did anything he'd regret. Again.
He stared down at the untouched food tray where he had re-placed the cup from earlier just to get it out of his hands and clear the incident from his mind. That strategy hadn't worked and he still could only ask himself how that had even happened. There was no plausible explanation for it. Sam held up his hands and stared at his palms as if the answers would be written across his skin. He'd always been a little different, he'd felt it his entire life. Was this just more of the same? More of the more?
He let out a deep sigh and glanced back over at the monitors in time to watch as the blonde woman he kept seeing in Jack's cell appeared with another tray of food and briefly spoke with him about something. Sam stood up as the woman smiled triumphantly and moved to open the door to Jack's holding area as Jack used the opportunity presented to him and immediately bum rushed her.
"YES! Alright, Jack!" Sam shouted as he ran forward and practically pressed his face to the glass to get a better view. He could see the surprise and panic as it flew across the woman's face when Jack pressed a crude weapon to her neck and started to shout orders that Sam couldn't hear or make out. Holy shit, he was gonna get them out of here. Jack, the one person Sam wouldn't have counted on to save them.
He searched the bank of monitors frantically as Jack walked backwards out of the open door with the woman still clutched in front of him and exited the monitor he had been viewing him on along. He quickly appeared on another one that showed an empty corridor and pushed the woman in front of him towards a door before he started frantically pointing at it.
Even with a weapon held against her, the woman's face blanched in fear and she staunchly refused to do whatever Jack asked of her. This wasn't right. What was behind that door? The smile on Sam's face immediately dropped as another figure entered the monitor and Sam couldn't help the hatred that arose inside of him. Henry Gale. He doubted that was his real name…Alex had called him Ben. It didn't matter…whatever his name was, he had still orchestrated Michael's attack on Dean. He was the epitome of evil in Sam's eyes, and Sam hunted evil.
He spoke calmly to both the woman and Jack for several moments and it seemed like all three of them might be at a stalemate, before Jack pushed the woman out of the way and turned his attention to the door he had previously indicated. Sam's eyes widened as the woman and Henry both spun around and ran as quickly as they could from him in fear.
"NO! JACK! DON'T OPEN THAT DOOR!" Sam banged his hands uselessly against the glass window in desperation as he saw Henry get out of the corridor and shut the door behind to effectively leave the woman and Jack to whatever horror would be unleashed. Jack barely paid them any attention as he finally opened the door and a rush of water flew into the room.
Sam's jaw dropped in shock. Oh, holy shit. They were underwater.
The hope that had built up inside of Sam sank along with his stomach as he turned away from the monitors and shook his head back and forth. They were trapped in some facility that was housed underwater. It had to be deep underwater too, for that much water to flood in so quickly. There was no way in hell that Dean would even think to check an underwater location to find him. He was well and truly trapped.
"Well, isn't this a sight to behold," a proud voice spoke up from behind him. Sam turned around to see an older man with a smug smile on his face stand before him with his arms crossed in front of him nonchalantly. "It seems like that fighter spirit that John instilled in you has finally died down."
Sam glanced back over at the monitors and was relieved to see that Jack and the woman had stopped the flow of water together, but she immediately used the opportunity of calm presented to her to punch him enough to knock him out. She stared down at his floating body for less than a few seconds before she turned him over and pulled him back into his cell.
Sam let out a sigh of relief before he turned to the smug man in front of him and crossed his own arms carelessly. "How do you know my dad's name?"
"Because, Sammy boy…he's spent the last few decades trying to hunt me down," the man informed him as his eyes flashed a quick yellow.
Sam's breath hitched and he backed up several steps in surprise until his back collided with the concrete wall. The demon...he was here. He'd been right all along, ever since the plane crash had stranded them on this island.
"He's working with someone I've never seen before. His eyes are…"
This is what Alex had been trying to warn him about. The yellow eyes. The demon's smile grew at Sam's unease as he spread his arms out wide in front of him. "How do you like your new digs? I couldn't have predicted that when we turned on these monitors for you that you'd get an actual demonstration of the fact that it isn't just concrete and glass keeping you trapped in here. There is an entire body of water out there to stop you and any escape attempts you might try."
Sam's jaw tightened in frustration as he thought back to the two escape attempts from their group that had already gone awry since they'd been captured. How was Dean even supposed to begin to look for them? The demon's smile grew as he nodded his head at the grim comprehension that dawned on Sam's face. "There it is. The complete understanding that you are trapped down here and there's nothing you can do about it. Even if Dean was still alive, he'd never be able to find you in an underwater station. The perfect prison."
Sam's eyes widened at the demon's statement before his face grew solemn and schooled his features into devastation. He slid down the concrete wall as the demon snickered at Sam's grief. "What do you want from me? You ruined my life. You killed everyone I love."
"The cost of doing business, kiddo," the demon shrugged down at him. "I mean, sweet little Jessica, she just had to die. You were all set to marry that little blonde thing, become a tax lawyer with two kids, a beer gut and a little McMansion in the suburbs. I needed you sharp, on the road, honing your skills. Your gifts. Gifts, might I add, that have recently been upgraded."
Sam tilted his head in confusion before his eyes fell on the crook of his arm, where the cotton ball had hidden the two needle marks from earlier. He had made that cup fly across the room with barely any thought. He'd had dreams before, but nothing physical had ever happened to him until now. "What did you do to me?"
The demon shrugged carelessly, again, as he turned and walked back towards the open door. "I've made you stronger. You were always my favorite and now there's nothing to stop us from working together whether you like or not." He smiled wide again and waved his fingers at Sam before he left the room and closed the door behind him.
It had always just been dreams or a strange feeling that guided Sam. He'd always known he was different. Now that he thought about it, he did feel stronger than before, the demon was definitely right about that. Sam's smile grew as he thought about his brother. Injured…but not dead. The demon seemed to think otherwise, which meant that Henry hadn't informed the demon of that new information.
This was their ace up the sleeve. Dean would be their salvation. If Sam truly was stronger now, if he had some sort of mojo to work for him, then he could try to tap into it and use it to his advantage. Maybe he'd be able to send Dean some sort of message…something not physical. If something was going on with his mind, even if it was fueled by the demon, then he would just take it and make it his own.
Somehow, he was gonna tell Dean exactly where they were.
Author's Note: This is a short one, mostly because it took some effort to get this chapter's ideas actually written out. This first chapter was very nearly written in Dean's perspective, but I didn't like it being before Sam's perspective, so…REWRITE. Before I was even done with "Swan Song Station", I knew that I wanted to call this story "My Brother's Keeper". Then, I'm doing some research just yesterday (for this story) on the Cain and Abel story in the bible and when God asks Cain where his brother is, his response is… "I know not: am I my brother's keeper?" I don't know why, but I got a huge kick out of it. Big thanks to thedarkpokemaster (x2), Guest, Zgirl101 (x2), auPHE, Archivist613 and TrappedInWonderland for your kind reviews for the end of Swan Song Station. I hope this story is received as well!