The Institute

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone from Supernatural nor do I profit in any way. I just write for the love of writing about the boys and hurting them on the odd occasion.

Warnings:

Rated for language, violence and torture.

NO Wincest or Slash involved in this.

Author's Note: This is not a supernatural story as such, though the demon may make an appearance later on.

Oh yeah as I have said in my other stories, I am an Aussie, never been to America although I would love to visit one day, anyway I have made up the town's name, if it does exist and someone lives there ahhh sorry in advance and hope I don't stuff up too much! Oh and I hope I don't offend any English after mentioning an atrocity that could have happened during the American Revolution. I am using only in back story only.

Just one little other thing no agencies or agents were brainwashed, manipulated or tortured in anyway. :0)

CHAPTER ONE – The Disappearance

'Now you sure about this Sammy?' Dean asked leaning his elbows on top of the impala, 'I mean I can ah hang around with you, while you know you do what ... what exactly do you do in the library?'

'Dean, honestly I do not need a babysitter, I am going into a public building where there are books ... you do know what a book is don't you?'

'Funny Samuel, very funny ... I thought everything was on computer these days anyway.' Dean frowned and stared over Sam's shoulder, he could have sworn that the car he watched had already passed them twice, driving in the same direction each time.

'Ah Sam maybe we could do the research thing later,' Dean said nodding slightly indicating the circling car.

Sam glanced quickly in the same direction and then back at Dean, 'yeah sure if you don't want to research then what lunch?'

'Sounds like a plan, so fast food, or fast food?'

'Hmm maybe we could oh I don't know have fast food for a change,' Sam grinned, 'feel like a walk?'

Dean nodded and carefully locked the impala making sure that everything was secure, Sam picked up the laptop and his smaller backpack. In companionable silence they walked seemingly casually down the main street of Legend Missouri - -population of twenty thousand, small city boasting one shopping centre and a lot of history dating back to the early colonisation of the Americas. Also, home to a haunted combined school house and church where as the story goes; a group of English soldiers during the American Revolution, thinking that the town harboured rebels, herded the original townspeople into the building before setting it alight and burning them alive. That day they named the town Legend as it became legendary for its hauntings over the centuries since.

The boys appeared to be nothing more than tourists casually taking in the sites of the historical city but they kept a watchful eye on the car as it definitely trailed them.

'So Dean ... whatcha think Feds?'

'Nope these guys are not subtle enough; a baby could tell they are tailing us.'

'So what do you want to do? Stop them and politely ask them to quite following us?'

'Or we could just let them keep going and let them show us what they are up to?' Dean reasoned stopping outside a neat and clean looking café, 'hey Sammy this looks good.'

'Yeah and so does the waitress inside.' Sam finished grinning at the way his brother watched the young woman move expertly around the tables.

'Huh? Sam I am shocked I tell ya ... shocked and offended that you would ... well yeah she is cute. But hey it beats plastic hamburgers for a change?'

'No argument there.' Sam watched the car in the reflections in the window, 'they're watching again.'

'We should give them something to watch.' Dean grumbled as he opened the door and waited for Sam to join him.

'Hey I'm Sandy and I'll be your waitress today,' the young and pretty woman smiled warmly at the two new customers, showing off dimples in both cheeks and sparkling grey eyes. 'Just the two of you?'

'Yeah thanks,' Sam said when Dean just continued to grin while taking in Sandy's curvy figure. 'But ah could we sit at the back of the café where it's nice and quiet? We've been travelling and are pretty done in.'

'Sure no problems how about that booth,' Sandy led them to a small private booth at the back of the café far enough away from the rest of the lunch time crowd for the boys to relax a bit. 'I'll be back with your menus in a moment, want something to drink?'

'Coke thanks Sandy,' Dean said finally finding his voice. 'Two cokes.' He added noticing Sam's distracted stare.

'Coming right up,' Sandy gave Dean another big smile and sashayed through the crowded area to the counter.

'Wow she is hot.' Dean breathed but when Sam didn't answer, he turned his attention completely to his younger brother. 'Earth to Sam? Come in Sam.'

'Huh?'

'Where did you go just then?'

'The car it's gone.' Sam said simply, 'probably parked around here waiting for us to leave.'

'Hmm, well for now we're going to enjoy lunch and the company of one Sandy the Waitress,' Dean winked at Sam, 'we'll worry about those idiots later.'

'Yeah okay,' Sam agreed but kept watching out the window until their drinks arrived, 'thanks.' He said softly smiling up at Sandy.

'So where you boys from?'

'Here there and everywhere,' Dean said 'we're on a road-trip together.'

Sandy frowned and then shook her head and started to walk away, shame that all the good looking ones are...

'Hey Sandy, my brother and I were wondering if there was a decent motel in the area.' Sam called after her, trying not to laugh at the look on Dean's face.

'Brothers?' Sandy came back with a bigger smile on her face, 'you two are brothers?'

'Yeah why what did you think we were?' Dean grumbled, this misconception was starting to get too common lately.

'Nothing, so what are two gorgeous brothers doing on a road-trip? Just seeing America?'

'Ah kindof, Sam here his girlfriend died and well I took some time off to spend with him...'

'Oh that is so sweet,' Sandy cooed, 'what a brother you have Sam.'

'Yeah Dean's a real peach.' Sam grimaced. 'So what's good to eat?'

'Oh yeah right the menus, I ah recommend the special of the day, steak, fries and a choice of salad or vegetables.'

'Okay I'll have a special but hold the vegetables,' Dean grinned, 'medium rare thanks.'

'And Sam?'

'I'll ah have the same thanks and salad will be good.'

'How do you like your steak Sam?'

'Medium rare thanks Sandy, and I'll have another coke too please.'

'Yeah make those two cokes thanks Sandy.' Dean interjected, watching appreciatively as she walked away swaying her hips slightly exaggeratedly.

They finished their meal in silence; even Sam seemingly enjoyed his steak and salad although Dean picked through the greenery with a look of sheer disgust on his face.

'Okay we'll I'm off to the bathroom, don't do anything I wouldn't do while I'm gone.' Dean grinned as he stepped out of the booth, 'here wanna go pay for lunch?'

'Sure, Dean you okay?'

'Yeah fine, I'll be out in a minute.' Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder and strode off in search of the men's room. Sam sighed and collected all of their things getting ready to leave.

Dean came out wringing his still damp hands and headed for their booth, frowning slightly when he saw Sam's laptop and backpack still sitting on the seat, turning he stared at the counter but Sandy was there on her own. He knew he didn't come into the bathroom and anyway Sam wouldn't leave the laptop like that.

Grabbing his brother's gear as well as his own Dean hurried over to the counter, 'hey Sandy did Sam come and pay ya?'

'Nope not yet, why?'

'Did you see him leave?'

'No, what's going on Dean?'

'Dunno, you sure you didn't see him leave or talk to anyone?'

'No but I've been out in the kitchen for the last few minutes, perhaps he's in the bathroom?'

'Nope I just came from there, and he ... he wouldn't have left the laptop just sitting there.' Dean snapped back, 'sorry Sandy, I didn't mean to snap at ya.'

'Hey it's okay, maybe he just went out ... hang on a tic.' Sandy left Dean and went to speak to an older man sitting at the end of the counter. A frown creasing her pretty face when she returned to Dean.

'What is it Sandy?'

'Old Hank there, he said that he saw your brother leaving with two guys in black suits and that your little brother didn't look so good.'

'Didn't look so good how?'

'Pale and sickly, Hank thought that they were helping him out to get fresh air but he noticed that one of them had Sam's arm twisted behind him.'

'Fuck.' Dean breathed his face paling even more, 'how much do I owe you Sandy?'

'Fifteen twenty, but hey Dean what are you going to do? You have to tell the police.'

'They won't do anything until Sam's been missing for twenty-four hours,' Dean sighed running his hand through his short hair, worrying his lower lip until he tasted blood.

'Okay but Hank here saw them taking Sam under duress can't you report a kidnapping or something?'

'I'll have a better chance of finding him on my own ... thanks for all of your help Sandy.'

'Hey Dean, my shift is finished and ah well, I live alone and have a spare bedroom you're welcome to stay with me until you find Sam.'

'Sandy look that's great but ...'

'No buts, you don't know Legend as well as I do, and well you don't know how long you'll be here so it will be cheaper too.'

'Thanks Sandy thanks for everything.' Dean said though the pit in his stomach started to grow, he had such a bad feeling about all of this.

Sam blinked and looked around at his new surroundings, the room or more like the cell was small, a hard bench-bed against one wall with a blanket and pillow piled up on it. A small table next to it was the only piece of furniture, no window and the bars seemed to have no locks or apparent door. The only other thing that confused Sam even more was the fact that everything was white, clean, sterile, and white.

Looking down at himself, he realised that he was no longer dressed in his jeans, T-shirt and over shirt, now he wore a short white cotton top and matching white drawstring pants. His feet bare and he no longer had his leather band or watch on.

His damp hair confused him to his limit; someone had obviously showered and dressed him without his knowledge.

'Hey nice to see you awake.' A soft female voice came from across the small walkway, limping slightly Sam went to the bars at the front of the cell and tried to focus on where the voice came from.

'You're hurt.' She said making it a statement and not a question.

'Who are you?' Sam asked as he finally made out the shape of a young woman around his age and similarly dressed in the white outfit.

'My name is Grace, what's yours?'

'Sam ... Grace where are we?'

'The Institute,' Grace replied simply, 'did they hurt you?'

'I ah, I'm not sure, my leg's aching but I can't tell...'

'I can ... feel it.' Grace said a sob catching in her throat.

Just then, a door slid open and two men came in, they looked vaguely familiar to Sam and he tensed as he flashed back to the café, they were the ones who took him so abruptly.

'Where am I and what am I doing here?' Sam demanded letting his anger lose to control his panic.

'Shut up subject twenty-two you do not speak unless directed to.'

'Who are you?' Sam insisted ignoring their command. A blinding pain shot through his leg making him stumble and fall.

'Stop it.' Grace screamed, 'please don't hurt him.'

'Silence subject twenty-one you will be silent until needed.'

One of the men opened the door to Sam's cell and gripping his arms tightly dragged him to his feet and threw him onto the bed. Winded Sam laid there for a few seconds before shaking his head and prepared himself to launch an attack against his captors.

A tiny pin prick startled him and his fingers flew to his throat feeling a small dart protruding from his skin.

'What the fu...?' Sam slurred as he lost feeling in his body, still awake and aware but unable to move. Grabbing him once again, the two men dragged Sam out of his cell and towards the open door. The tall young man tried to keep track of where they were going but he couldn't hold his head up. His dangling feet caught on the flooring every so often but he felt nothing.

Effortlessly they lifted him onto a surgical table, one each side of him they lifted Sam's arms onto the table wings strapping them down at the wrist, then while one tied his ankles down to the table another placed a thick leather band across his throat effectively immobilising him.

Darkness tickled the edges of his awareness but he refused to give in. The two men backed off and stood either side of the door, obviously waiting for someone else, after what felt like hours Sam noticed another man enter the room. This new arrival wore a white doctor's lab coat, white shirt and a stained green tie. Thick black rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose looked too big for his face.

'W..wh...where?' Sam tried to get out through his frozen throat and mouth.

The new arrival ignored Sam and moved around a side bench inspecting various implements before turning to Sam and switching on a recording device.

'Subject twenty-two, arrival March 2007, male, Caucasian, approximately twenty-four years of age. One older sibling, male. Both parents deceased, completed first two years at Stanford University in pre-law.' He paused glanced down at the fiery look in Sam's eyes and continued in his emotionless voice. 'Eyes green, height approximately six feet five inches, hair dark brown, distinguishing features, none.

Subject twenty-two has supposedly the power of precognition through visions and untested telekinesis. Trained in hand to hand combat, weaponry and is an expert tracker.' The man put the recording device down on the table next to Sam's head and for the first time took a closer look at Sam's face and body.

'Subject twenty-two I am Doctor Tobias Schlatter, you will not speak unless told to do so or asked specific questions, you will not disobey any orders and if you try to defy anyone on staff or myself you will be severely punished ... is that understood subject twenty-two?'

'M – my name ... is ... Sam.' he ground out as the immobilising drug started to wear off. Although, the only answer he received was a sharp slap across his face splitting his lower lip in the process.

'Defiance will not be tolerated.' Doctor Tobias Schlatter said and then he picked up his recorder and continued with the session.

'Session one, subject twenty-two physical examination. Visual exam showed several healed and partially healed scars but nothing life threatening. The eyes are clear and focused, breathing steady though slightly fast. Blood pressure is 125/95 slightly high but could be residue effects of the immobiliser, pulse fast and thready. He pressed a thermometer into Sam's ear and recorded a temperature of 37.3 Celsius (99.2 F.), 'subjects temperature is slightly elevated and will review it at the end of the session.'

The doctor gripped Sam's chin and squeezed until his clenched jaw gave and he opened his mouth, Sam could feel the burn of humiliation on his cheeks and tears stinging his eyes as the doctor forced a tongue depressor into his mouth. 'Subject appears to have all his own teeth and is in good dental condition, no signs of infection, or other oral abnormalities.'

He let go of Sam's chin and then felt down his body, squeezing muscles and lifting limbs, checking reflexes and other standard medical tests for a physical exam. Sam felt a chill course through him as he listened to the doctor's dispassionate description of his health and physiology.

'Subject twenty-two is ready for testing to commence,' Schlatter announced as he placed the recorder back next to Sam's head making sure it still recorded his words. 'Test one to commence at eighteen hundred hours,' as he spoke he placed electrode patches on Sam's forehead, temple and just under his jaw at each pulse point.

'First measure of brain activity,' he said as he turned a dial on a machine and watched a screen intently. At first, Sam felt no pain but then his body started to jerk against the restraints as the currents of electricity shot through him.

'Subject twenty-two for this test you are to initiate a vision through visual stimulation.' A screen lowered from the ceiling stopped just above Sam giving him a clear view as different images fly across the screen, too fast for his eyes to register completely.

His breathing hitched when he saw Dean's picture flash by, then his father, and then one of his mother holding both Sam and Dean, Sam just a newborn baby and Dean a grinning little boy of four. Images merged into each other various pictures of demons, creatures that defy description, werewolves, and vampires morphed into Dean and their dead parents. Sam screamed and tried to close his eyes but each time he closed them the electricity surged through him, each zap stronger than the last. His head throbbed unmercifully, and tears fell down his face but no vision came. Fear pricked at his heart, knowing that failure was not an option with these people.

'Brain activity increased during stimulation, scans are showing concentrated activity in one specific area.' Schlatter recorded excitedly, 'subject is obviously experiencing extreme pain caused by the increased activity.'

Sam forced himself to stop fighting and to relax, willing himself to lose consciousness to give his body and mind a rest. 'No!' He screamed as he saw an image of his mother suspended over his crib, her blood dripping on him as fire fanned out behind her making burning wings. 'No!'

'What do you see?' the doctor demanded but Sam didn't hear him all he saw was his mother's bleeding and burning body. 'Turn the screen off,' Schlatter yelled angrily as he watched Sam start to shut down.

Ripping the electrodes away Schlatter stood next to the table glaring down at the traumatised young man, 'I told you defiance will be punished,' he hissed between each heaving breath.

Sam managed to turn his head enough to stare in disbelief at the man, his head ached unmercifully, and the electric shocks still reverberated through his muscles and organs.

'C-can't.' Sam whispered.

'Won't,' the doctor contradicted him, 'I want him hurt badly and then we will test subject twenty-one, perhaps both of them will learn the stupidity of defying me.' he ordered the silent guards.

Sam's eyes widened as he watched his tormentors from before appeared in his peripheral vision, 'n-no please.' He whispered, 'I can't ... I can't make the visions come.'

'No speaking unless ordered to.' The guard on Sam's right snarled as he punched his victim expertly in his side, minimum force, and maximum impact. Sam grunted and winced as the pain engulfed him.

The punching lasted for about five minutes, each carefully placed and controlled to ensure the most pain for the victim. The guard on Sam's left stepped over to the bench temporarily leaving Sam's line of sight, his breathing hitched as he listened intently trying to work out what was happening when a solid hit to his stomach had him retching and gasping for breath.

Turning back to the table the guard smiled and moved closer to Sam, he held several small throwing knives in his hands, but instead of throwing them he tossed a couple to his partner and then, moving blindingly fast he pushed one knife into Sam's hand, eliciting a scream of pure agony from the young man. The other guard followed suit seconds later, grinning when he saw the look of anger and rebellion fade from the green eyes.

Using the other knives they took sadistic joy in slicing Sam's exposed arms, long thin cuts or shorter wider incisions going so deep that the knife tip hit bone more than once. No longer feeling the pain, Sam's body jerked spasmodically with each injury inflicted but he no longer made any sound or gave an indication that he was still aware of what they were doing.

'That's enough; bring in subject twenty-one.' Schlatter ordered, as he stood over Sam admiring the work of his two agents.

Grace gave no struggle when they fetched her this time, her body still reeling from the last time she tried to. Silently, with eyes downcast she let them lead her through the now familiar corridors to the main lab.

'Ah subject twenty-one I see that you are cooperating nicely this time,' Schlatter said glancing at the young woman. 'You have recovered sufficiently?'

'Yes,' she whispered keeping her eyes down, she could feel the absolute pain radiating in the room and it assailed her senses, leaving her gasping for breath.

'Ah perfect immediate response to the pain, very good subject twenty-one it is good to see your compliance this time.'

'What ... what do you want of me?' Grace stammered, her consciousness wavering, wanting to flee the calling.

'Let the subject go,' he ordered the agents, smiling he watched her stagger to the table holding Sam.

'What ... did ... you ... do ... to ... him?' Grace cried, her knees buckling under her she gripped the edge of the bed for support, 'he's dying.'

'He dies so do you,' Schlatter threatened picking up the recorder he started a new tape for the second test, 'second test time twenty hundred, bringing back subject twenty-two from the verge of death after failed test. Subject twenty-one will attempt another healing.'

Grace closed her eyes and willed herself not to think of the battered and bruised body of the young man she had met earlier. The knives still protruding from his hands made her feel physically ill.

'I can't until you remove all obstructions,' she gasped out as her stomach lurched towards her mouth.

Nodding silently, he indicated for his agents to remove the knives and to stand back.

Taking deep cleansing breathes; Grace concentrated on emptying her mind and accepting the pain into her body. She placed her hands just above Sam's forehead and his chest and started to chant in Latin. She tossed her head back as the pain flared through the connection and she absorbed it into her own, her mind registering the shock of his surviving such torture. Her arms strained in front of her as sweat beaded and dripped down her face and body, the cuts and bruises gradually appeared in the corresponding places on her body. A blood-curdling scream erupted from her as she collapsed to the floor, her skin transparent and her lips tinged with blue.

Sam opened his eyes and stared blearily around at his surroundings, he was lying on the floor of his original cell, wearing only the drawstring pants now. Shivering slightly he stood up and lurched groggily to the hard bed, falling face down on it he passed out once again, this time from exhaustion.

Grace huddled next to the bars and watched him sadly, her heart heavy with guilt. They used her to bring him back from death, he didn't deserve such punishment or pain, and he doesn't deserve any of this, she knew that this would not be the only time they would use her to bring him back. Each time will be worse for him and harder for her. Guinea pigs in a nightmarish science experiment. All of the subjects in the Institute are only gifted psychic guinea pigs.

'Perhaps you would be better off if I can't bring you back next time Sam.' she whispered, wincing with the residual pain running through her fragile body. Hot tears fell unheeded down her cheeks as the guilt started to consume her.

TBC