Chapter 1

"Gah, help me! Ahh… DEAN!"

Sam hated sounding so weak, but there was nothing else to do but scream – the torture was endless, the scalpel twisting inside of him. His masked captors laughed.

"Go ahead and scream Sammy, nobody can hear you, and your big brother is too far away," the one with the scalpel taunted, pushing it a little deeper. Sam tried to seal his lips together and breathe through his nose, but his mouth opened to gasp in the oxygen he needed and he couldn't help but let out another pained yell. Where was Dean? He should be here by now… Why isn't he here?

The memories of the night before slowly drifted back to Sam and he groaned mentally. After what seemed like a stupid argument Dean had stormed out of the motel room to the bar a few blocks away, with the order not to wait up. Sam thought about the things he had said and wished to whoever was listening that he could take them back, but he couldn't, and Dean wouldn't be back in time to notice Sam was missing…

God, couldn't I just die already? Sam thought as the scalpel was pulled out, only to be plunged back in an inch to the right. What a sick game of connect-the-dots his abdomen was going to be.

"So pretty, Sammy, what beautiful pale flesh you have," the man before him whispered, hot breath bathing his ear. Sam pulled against the ropes tying his wrists to the pipes running along the top of the basement where he was currently slouched, but they wouldn't budge. "It is an honor, really, to taint it."

Suddenly he removed the scalpel and stood, and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. But his eyes widened again as his captor pulled a vibrating phone out of his pocket – Sam's phone.

"Oh look, you're getting a call!" said the man. "Who could it be?" He looked at the screen. "Oh, it's big brother! Let's see what he wants, shall we?"

He pressed the little green button and waited in silence. Over the speaker Sam could hear Dean's frantic voice. "Sam? Sammy? What the hell man, I've been driving for an hour, where are you?"

"I'm sorry, Sam's not available right now. Can I take a message?" the man said lightly, a gleam in his eye.

Dean's breath caught. "Oh, you son of a bitch… who are you, and what have you done with Sam?"

"Done to him? Oh nothing, he's just napping, but we can wake him up if you want." He motioned to one of the other men clad in black, and Sam, unprepared, felt a blade slice his arm, and he was unable to hold back a small whimper.

The phone was placed near Sam's mouth, and Dean hissed at the small noise of pain. "Where are you?"

"I take it you've been doing your research, Dean-O. Connect the dots," the man said, before he hung up. He grinned and looked at Sam. "Good, he should be here soon. Now here's the hard part – do I want you to watch him try to save you? Or do I want to watch his little heart break as you stop breathing?"

The man paced for a mere five minutes, sending frequent glares at Sam and slapping him when Sam looked like he was about to make some comment, when suddenly the door rattled. The man looked pleasantly surprised.

"Well I guess he was already on his way! How convenient. I've made up my mind!"

Sam looked up in surprise as Dean kicked down the door. They locked eyes for only a moment before the man landed a mean right hook to the side of Sam's head. It snapped back and Sam went out like a light, just barely getting to see the look of fear and anger splayed across Dean's face.