"You know what I'm going to do?" Lenore asked, leaning in close to her captive. "I'm going to let you go."
Sam frowned in confusion as he stared at Lenore. Was she serious?
"Take him back," the female vamp told Eli. "Not a mark on him."
The gag had been replaced and the hood was over his head again as Sam was led down the steps and pushed into the truck. He couldn't believe they were going to let him go like this.
Sam had tracked their location on the way to the vamp's nest, so he was confused when they made a left, heading away from town. They soon turned onto a rough, unpaved road and the truck bumped along for a few minutes. When it stopped, Eli opened the door and dragged Sam from the backseat.
"Lenore said we had to let you go, but too bad for you, she didn't specify where," Eli sneered as he led Sam through thick brush. Sam struggled but the vamp was strong and he was at a disadvantage, bound and blindfolded.
"So here we are," Eli taunted as he tightened the ropes on Sam's wrists. "You're free to go, not a mark on you." He clapped Sam on the shoulder and went back to the truck. In the distance Sam heard the rev of the engine and the retreating sound of the truck as it drove away.
Sam cursed through the gag. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Now he was out here in the middle of nowhere and had no way to get back. Helpless was not a feeling the Winchesters enjoyed.
Dean didn't know where he was. He might not have even realized Sam was missing, depending on how drunk he was. He wouldn't even know to look for his brother.
Sam tried to focus and figure out how to get out of this mess. He listened for any sounds that might guide him toward civilization, but it was silent around him. With a sigh, he tentatively began walking in what he thought was the direction of the road. If he could find the road, then he would at least have something to follow.
It was slow going, Sam navigating carefully over the uneven ground. He hoped he was still headed the right way. He took a few more steps before his foot slipped and he toppled over, tumbling down into a ravine. As he fell, his lower body slammed into a tree trunk before he rolled a few more feet. He groaned as pain shot through his leg.
He breathed heavily as the pain flared before receding a bit. He seemed to be fine except for his leg (and the pounding in his head from being smashed with a telephone), so he tried to turn over to his side to get up. White hot pain surged through his knee and ankle with the slightest movement. Now he was really screwed. This would be a great time for one of Dean's superhero rescue moments.
Dean had returned from the bar to find the Impala still parked out front, but no Sam. He wasn't concerned until he noticed the soda can tossed on the floor, the liquid seeping into the carpet. Sam wasn't a slob and wouldn't leave a mess like that no matter how crappy the motel was.
He walked closer to get a better look and noticed the phone cord had been ripped from the wall. The clunky, dated phone was askew on the nightstand and when he picked it up he noticed a small patch of blood. His stomach dropped as he realized what must have happened. Sam had been taken.
Sam lay in the ravine, the cold night air seeping into his bones. His knee and ankle throbbed in time with his heartbeat and his head was pounding too. He had given up trying to get the hood off – or move in general – since it had almost made him black out the last time.
His phone vibrated in his front pocket, but he couldn't reach it even if he tried. At least now Dean was looking for him…not that he'd ever find him out here.
Time passed – Sam couldn't tell if it had been hours or minutes – before he finally heard movement in the stillness around him. It was faint at first, but as the growl got closer, he recognized the sound. He would know the distinctive rumble of his brother's car anywhere and he sighed in relief as the Impala got closer.
The car shut off and Sam knew Dean was looking for him. He wasn't able to call out to him (other than muffled grunts through the gag) so he waited until he heard Dean getting closer. He braced himself for the pain and used his uninjured leg to stomp the ground to make some noise.
"Sam!" Dean was calling for him.
"D'n!" Sam shouted as loudly as he could, given the circumstances, and continued to pound the ground with his boot.
Dean was getting close, and finally Sam heard his brother approaching him, moving carefully down the slope toward the injured Winchester.
"Sammy," Dean breathed as he reached his brother. He dropped to his knees and lifted Sam's head carefully, pulling the hood off. It was dark, but he could see the relief in his brother's eyes at being found. Dean had tossed the flashlight on the ground so he could get to Sam, and it gave off just enough light for the brothers to see each other.
"You okay?" he asked as he tossed the hood aside and began untying the gag. Sam nodded as Dean pulled the fabric from his mouth.
He licked his dry lips before he answered. "My leg is messed up," he said hoarsely. "So glad you're here." He closed his eyes as Dean stroked his hair.
"You have a goose egg on your head," Dean observed as his fingers explored the area. "Bastard smashed you with the phone."
Sam nodded in confirmation. "Get me out of here?" he pleaded, opening his eyes to look at Dean.
Dean nodded. "Gotta get you untied. Can you turn over some?"
Sam bit his lip and tried to keep his leg still as he turned for his brother to cut the ropes. The blood rushed back into his hands and he pulled his arms out from underneath him.
"What happened?" Dean asked as rubbed Sam's arms and squeezed his hands gently as the feeling came back.
"Vamps grabbed me," Sam explained. "The nest of the guy we ganked earlier tonight. Lenore, their leader, agreed to let me go after explaining that they didn't hurt people – a good faith gesture, I guess – but her goons dumped me out here."
"I'm going to kill 'em," Dean growled.
"They're not hurting people," Sam said again. "Eli may be an asshole, but Lenore was sincere about not hurting me. They just want to be left alone. They drink animal blood to blend in and try to have normal lives."
Dean thought for a minute. "So they're responsible for the cattle mutilations?" Sam nodded. "And you're sure they're not a threat?" Sam nodded again.
"Okay then," Dean said. Sam was surprised he was convinced that easily, but he didn't argue
"How bad is the leg?" Dean asked, changing the subject. Sam slowly sat up, his brother's hand on his back to keep him steady.
"Knee and ankle are screwed up," Sam explained. "I don't think I'll be able to walk on it."
"Based on the swelling I see," Dean said as he shone the flashlight on Sam's denim-covered leg, "definitely not. Hang tight for a minute and let me figure out how we can get out of here."
Sam scooted over to lean against a tree trunk and cringed in pain. How was he going to be able to get back up the slope to the Impala?
Dean came back with a satisfied smirk. "Sammy, looks like you got lucky. Well, after you got really unlucky, I guess. There's a road about ten feet that way" – he pointed the beam of light – "and it seems to be part of the road where I parked the car. I'm going to climb back up and drive down."
It took less than ten minutes for Dean to retrieve the car and drive around to where Sam was. Sam had never been so happy to see the Impala. He managed to stay conscious as Dean helped him hobble to the car and he didn't even complain as his brother headed for the nearest ER.
It was early morning when the brothers returned to the motel. The ER doc had stitched up his head (no concussion this time), wrapped his sprained ankle, and set his dislocated kneecap. After a lecture about hiking alone, Sam was given crutches and a script for pain pills, which he was looking forward to.
Dean unlocked the door and let Sam in first. Sam moved slowly to the bathroom where he stripped off his dirty clothes and washed his face. He made it back to his bed and noticed that Dean had already put two pills and a water bottle on the nightstand. His sweatpants and a t-shirt were laid out, too. He gratefully took the pills with most of the water. He pulled on the shirt but knew he would need some help with the pants due to the immobilizing brace on his knee.
Dean came in the room with the last of their things and locked the door behind him. He kicked off his boots before going over to Sam and wordlessly picked up the sweatpants and began working them on Sam's injured leg.
"Thanks," Sam said as he slipped his good leg in and lifted up off the bed so that he could pull the pants all the way up.
"Anytime," Dean said with a smirk as he guided Sam to lie down. He gently lifted the injured limb and slid a pillow underneath before pulling the covers over his brother.
"How'd you find me?" Sam asked sleepily, the adrenaline waning and the pain pills kicking in.
"Dude, I'm Batman," Dean answered and Sam rolled his eyes with a smile. "I tracked the GPS on your phone."
"Thanks," Sam said again seriously. "I was scared," he admitted. "I knew the situation was bad, but somewhere in the back of my mind I believed you'd find me."
"Always, Sammy."