Hey. I wrote this story for a challenge on and I figured it would help if you guys had the prompt. Well, three guys in a family is never good, not to mention the Winchester Family.
As you know, Dean had always been sandwiched between John and Sam. Dean finally got enough of both of them. And walk out of the motel they are currently staying in. (In the middle of a hunt.)
Not before saying, " Look, I've enough of you guys fucking trying to kill each other! If you guys were to fucking die on me, I'll have to be the fucking one, salting and burning you guys down to nothing!" Dean opens the door and continued, " In that case, I would rather be the one you guys fucking salt and burn!" and bangs the door shut.
After which Dean went missing. Being kidnapped by the things that they are suppose to hunt. Will Dean get his words?
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" Look, I've enough of you guys fucking trying to kill each other! If you guys were to fucking die on me, I'll have to be the fucking one, salting and burning you guys down to nothing!" Dean opens the motel room door and continued, " In that case, I would rather be the one you guys fucking salt and burn!" and slams the door shut.
That was the last time anyone heard from Dean Winchester. It had been three days now, and John and Sam were beginning to get worried. John figured Dean had stomped out in one of his hormone induced teenage fits. It's not like him to walk out in the middle of a hunt though. Sammy and me sure gave that kid reason enough. John and Sam had a battle of epic proportions for that whole week. It was over something trivial; whose strategy was better for the hunt. Both the oldest and the youngest Winchester thought they were right which left Dean in the middle again. Dean was forced to be the mediator for the week, which resulted in his final blow out, and him marching out of the motel room.
"Dad, do you think dean is okay?" Sam broke the silence with his question.
"You know your brother. He's probably somewhere with some girl blowing off some steam," John replied with a huff. He was trying not to let Sammy know how worried he was. Once that kid hears that there might be something wrong with his brother, he gets irrational and freaks out. Of course Dean is worse when it comes to situations involving Sammy.
"Yeah but he didn't take the car, and he's not answering his cell phone. Dad, something is seriously wrong with Dean. I don't know what, but something is seriously wrong."
"Well, your right about one thing. When he finally decides to get his ass back in here, he will be seriously wrong that for sure. And you need to stop worrying Sammy. Dean's a big boy he can handle himself," John let just a little bit of his irritation slip into his voice. Why does this kid have to question everything I say?
"Yes sir," Sam replied with a dejected look. He flopped down on the bed furthest from the door of the dingy motel room. A small sigh escaped from his lips as he once again pulled out his cell phone and willed it to ring. Where are you Dean?
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Dean was struggling to answer that very question. Hel, he was struggling to open his eyes. It's just blinking it shouldn't be this hard. He noticed he was lying on is left side on some kind of hard surface. Stone maybe? It was pitch black, even with his eyes open so he couldn't be sure. He tried to shift positions, but a sharp wave of pain put an end to that idea. Holy shit! Holy shit! What happened to me? God, my leg, I can't feel my leg! Why can't I move my arms? God this is sooooo not good! Where the fuck am I? Dean's mental rant was cut short by a heavy scraping sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The tiny confines of Dean's personal prison were illuminated as the door opened.
Dean was fairly sure he was about to have all his questions answered, and he suddenly prayed that they wouldn't be.