The arm wrapped around his throat and pulled him tight against the chest behind him, "If you are smart you'll shut up and go quietly. There is a gun trained on your brother's head and if given the signal he's a goner."
He swallowed hard before throwing his elbow into the stomach of the other man. The kidnapper's stumbling back caused his friend to look over at him and the gun wavered.
"Sam, run!" He screamed and started racing forward only to be pulled down by his ankle. His last vision was of his younger brother darting off into the woods and then darkness claimed him.
Dean Winchester woke from the drug induced sleep and looked around the cell. It was dark and damp, and lonely. In the past two years he had gotten used to having his brother's company again and in a mere fifteen minutes they were separated; for this time the period was indefinite.
He pulled himself upright only to find himself chained to the floor. What the hell was going on? Then he heard it the sound of his stomach growling. How long had he been out? The thought that maybe Sam had been caught crept into his mind and sent his heart racing. Shaking his head he told himself to forget it, there was no way in hell Sam would have been caught.
"Good you're awake. I hope you find your accommodations to your liking but if you don't oh well." A heavily accented voice said from the door of the cell.
"What the hell happened?" he asked simply looking the man in the eyes.
"You are on the market now Mr. Winchester. Don't worry that shan't be your name for long however." The voice threw a tray down two feet in front of him. "If you feel the need to eat have fun trying to get to it, if you don't need to eat let me know and I can take you to see a potential buyer."
The smell of a hamburger and French fries tickled his nose. It smelled good and he wasn't even sure how long he had been without food. "How long have I been out?"
"Three and a half days. Come on big-shot American come get the food. Doesn't it smell nice? If you put on a good show I might add a piece of cheese." The voice laughed.
"What are you talking about? There's no way in hell I'm struggling for that, a steak, potato and beer maybe."
He found himself thrown up against the wall so hard that he winced at the shackles cutting into his wrists. The man before him was almost double his weight and had greasy black hair and black eyes. "You don't get it do you Mr. Winchester? You aren't a guest but soon to be a slave. One that will be whipped and whipped and so much other pain inflicted you'll be screaming when you see a guard. Now I said crawl for it."
Dean's head bounced off the wall once and it resounded in the cell. He glared up at the man and stubbornly sat there. What he didn't expect was the fist that made his head snap to the right. He tasted the coppery liquid of wet blood on the corner of his mouth. "I won't tell you again."
He smiled as Dean started crawling forward, the shackles biting deeper into his wrists. This was all too amusing watching a high and mighty American crawl and whimper for his supper whether he knew it or not.
Dean stretched and tried to get the food for fifteen minutes before finally succeeding only to find that he had to eat like an animal as his arms could stretch no further. So with every painstaking bite and nerve grating laugh he was more determined to get the hell out of there.
Suddenly the food was yanked away and his arms forced behind him. He heard handcuffs snap into place and he was jerked to his feet. "Ready to meet your potential master?"
"Not particularly but something tells me I don't have a choice." Dean replied sullenly.
The slap came again and it stung. "Don't hurt his pretty face too much. The king won't appreciate it."
Dean was drug along a dark corridor for what seemed forever. As soon as they entered a lighted room he was thrown to his knees.
"Your majesty," his captor said with a bow, "your newest warrior."
A dark shadow fell across Dean's face and it made him look up. He looked deep into another set of black eyes, and then it traveled to the woman beside him. She had kind eyes that were a charcoal gray, and beside her was a younger woman whose chocolate colored eyes looked a tad shrewd but also showed empathy for what he was going through.
"I want to see his teeth." His majesty said.
With a none too gentle jerk of his hair they pulled his head back and forced his mouth open. Suddenly a finger was feeling around in it. He felt awful, his head pounded and he wanted to sleep again. The travel down the hallway had exhausted him.
"Sir," the younger woman said stepping forward. "May I remind you he is not a horse? Not to mention it looks like they've been abusing him."
"You will keep you opinions to yourself. I will not remind you again." His majesty replied shooting her a glare. "What do you think my queen?"
"He looks strong enough although I agree with her. He'll need some tending to before traveling though; I believe she'll do a thorough enough job. It's up to you however, after all he'll be your warrior."
His majesty nodded, "We'll take him." He turned to the younger woman. "Go with him and tend to him, be no more that twenty minutes and be prepared to travel. We leave in an hour."
She curtsied quickly, "Yes sir. I'm going to need warm water, washcloth, ice pack and some antibiotic cream, Neosporin or something to that effect."
"Follow us ma'am." Dean's captor said, pulling Dean to his feet.
She smiled at her majesties and followed them down the darkened hallway. She shivered in the darkness and could only imagine how many warriors had been dragged down the hall. She herself had been dragged down it nearly ten years before.
She waited patiently while they shackled him again. While she waited the supplies she had requested arrived and finally when she was left alone in the cell she knelt. She handed him the ice pack and waited while he had put it against his cheek. Pressing the warm washcloth against his split lip she said with a chuckle, "Welcome to hell."