written for fanfic50 on livejournal
Title: Safe
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Sam Winchester
Prompt: 011 Bound
Rating: PG-13 for theme
Warnings: mentions underage non-con, but not in detail and it's not graphic
Summary: "Yeah Dean, he's with Bobby. He's safe." And so are you, even though it should have been that way the entire time.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
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Tie him up, leave, shut and lock the door. And now he was here, alone, in this basement, somewhere in the middle of somewhere. Great, just great. Maybe Dad would find him soon. Probably. Hopefully. He was hungry. He thought maybe it had been a day at least since they'd taken him.
At least Sammy had been able to get away. He would tell Dad what happened and than he would come and save him. He always saved him.
Dean yelled at Sam to run, to get the hell out of there before they got him too, and the ten year old bolted, stopping half way to turn and look back at his brother. A man held him around the waist, trying to pull him back towards a van. Dean Winchester was a stubborn kid, though, and kept kicking out and cursing until a second man hit him sharply across the face. Tears in his eyes, Sam turned and continued running when the man holding his brother looked up and saw he was still there. He grinned, then dragged Dean to the van, dumping him in the back. He had wanted the younger kid, but the blonde was just as pretty so they had taken him instead.
Dean started to cry. At fourteen he never did because he was a man -- a hunter just like his dad -- but right now he was scared and this man was hurting him and he wouldn't stop even though Dean was begging, screaming, crying. But no just didn't work, not this time, and he had given up on the begging and the screaming but the tears wouldn't stop so he had cried, cried until the man finished and was gone, and only stopped when his eyes began to burn so much that they'd closed shut and he'd drifted off into a restless sleep.
The man never came back. At the park there had been two men, but once he'd been brought to the basement one of them had disappeared. The man who had hurt him had been the one who had grabbed him at the park, the one who had been going for Sammy before Dean had pushed his brother out of the way and told him to run.
It was John who went into the basement and woken Dean up, shaking him gently, tears in his eyes. Dean had been screaming at him at first, not knowing who it was. He didn't want the man to hurt him again, to make him cry. John hugged his son, telling him that it was okay, that he was safe, and Dean did cry. He told his dad what had happened, that he didn't mean to get caught, but he had had to save Sammy. John only hugged him harder, lifted him up off of the dirty cot. Carried him upstairs, past the body of the man who had taken his son. Blood was pooling under his body fast. He had died quick, the shot to the head a mistake. John had wanted him to die slowly, to suffer, but he had shot with shaking hands, hit him in the head instead of the arm or the chest or the stomach – anywhere would he would have bled out slowly, died slowly.
He had found Dean, though, and the man who had taken him, who had hurt him, was dead, and that really was all that mattered.
John had left Sam with Bobby, not wanting to take him on the search for Dean. It hadn't taken him that long to figure out who it was who had taken his son, and he'd only been away from his youngest for a day. John was angry with himself for only knowing where one son was. Mary would hate him for this.
Dean spoke up quietly from the backseat where John had put him, wrapped up in blankets. He had been naked and shaking with cold in the damp basement when John had found him.
"Sammy's okay, right?
John smiled, tears forming in his eyes. It was just like Dean to worry about Sam first and forget about his own problems. "Yeah Dean, he's with Bobby. He's safe." And so are you, even though it should have been that way the entire time.