This is a tag to The Real Ghostbusters. Warning, people, this is dark. Darker than I usually write… It is not a tragedy though so there will be a 'happy' ending. The content is suggestive and while not graphic, there is no doubt what the intent is. Thanks to Red Hardy for being a brave beta. And thank you Trasan for humoring me.

Snap has not been forgotten. I just needed to get this out of my head first.

Spoilers for anything up to and including this episode.

Disclaimer: I do not own them or make money from them.

Unconventional

OR

When good fans, go bad

Chapter 1

"Aw, man, hold on a second," Sam grumbled, halfway in the car. He pulled his long body back out and gave his brother an apologetic look, "I'll be right back."

"Dude?" Dean didn't look pissed, just curious.

"Bathroom," Sam offered as way of explanation. Not exactly a prude, he still appreciated an actual bathroom with real toilet paper and everything when they got the chance and not having to ask Dean to stop anytime in the next couple of hours would make them both happy. He was anxious to follow up the lead Becky gave them on the Colt.

Dean rolled his eyes but surprisingly enough, said nothing so Sam took it for what it was and hurried back inside the inn.

A few minutes later, and feeling much better, Sam hurried towards the front door.

"Sam?"

He stopped when he heard a woman's voice. "Sam Winchester?"

Turning he saw a petite blond wearing way too much lipstick and tried to think if he'd seen her earlier at the convention. There had been a couple of women here and she did look familiar.

"I'm sorry," he offered as she approached him. "Do I know you?"

"No," she admitted; her face lit up in a smile. "But I know you and your brother, Dean." Close enough now that he could smell her perfume, Sam instinctively backed up a step. "You are the real Sam Winchester, aren't you?"

Sam laughed to hide his awkwardness. "Well, as much as anybody here is, right?"

"Oh no." She tipped her head to the side in consideration. "You are the real McCoy. I saw you talking to Chuck a couple of times and overheard enough to know you're legit." She stood back, her eyes appraising him from head to toe. Her gaze lingered uncomfortable and hungry. "Oh wow," she breathed out, "and just look at you. The books? The pictures, they don't do you any justice." She licked her lips. "You are divine. Just so yummy."

Sam shifted, thoroughly uncomfortable now - Dean was the one who glowed under this sort of attention - and blushed. Muttering an "I have to be going," he tried to leave but she reached out and grabbed his arm.

"You're blushing - oh my God - that is just so sweet!"

"Uh, I'm sorry, lady, but you're way off base here, so if you really don't mind, I have to go. I can't leave my ride waiting - he might just take off without me."

The girl's eyes flickered to the right and Sam saw a large, square shouldered man in a nicely put together suit approach. His hopes for a getaway were dashed when he noticed the bulge in the man's coat pocket and the not so subtle threat the guy made as he raised an eyebrow and sighed. "My wife is a huge fan of yours Mr. Winchester. So let's just keep this all nice and friendly like and take a little walk together, somewhere more private where she can get to know you better." He lowered his voice so only Sam heard. "Like I said, she's a huge fan and I'd really hate to have to shoot you or something. I'm certain neither of us would like that."

Sam's eyes did a quick look around but there was no one near enough to help. So with a tight nod, he agreed.

They prodded the young hunter up the stairs and into a large room on the second floor. As he moved, he looked for some way to take control of the situation but the woman's husband was watchful, pulling the pistol out of his coat as soon as they were off the main floor. The gun had a silencer on it and Sam got the very distinct impression that this guy knew exactly what he was doing; this wasn't his first kidnapping. The bulky man was just too vigilant and that was going to make things a lot more difficult.

Sam knew his brother would come looking for him shortly but Dean walking in on this would not end well. There'd be no way his brother would expect something like this. However, with limited or - more realistically - no other options right now, the best Sam could do was try to humor his abductors and somehow stall them until his brother did arrive. Hopefully, Dean might provide the distraction Sam needed to get an upper hand in this. Whatever this was…

Turning to face the couple as the guy locked the door, Sam focused on the woman. "What do you want with me?" he demanded.

"What do we want with you?" the woman practically cooed. "Why nothing, silly. We just want... you."

Sam frowned, his mind frantically trying to piece things together and then all the blood drained from his face. Lucifer. Of course! They wanted him for Lucifer. "Christo," he breathed out and waited for their eyes to roll back but nothing happened.

The woman laughed, it wasn't a nice sound. "Oh you big oaf, we aren't possessed." She turned to her husband and explained. "He thought we were demons. Christo? Really?" She was still laughing but the man with the gun didn't look as amused.

"My name is Heather, by the way, and this is my husband Guy," she made introductions like they were meeting at a luncheon or something. "And while Guy isn't so much – he hates to read, I'm your biggest fan."

Sam closed his eyes briefly and fought against the need to pinch the bridge of his nose. Right at this moment, he really, really wanted to just kill Chuck. Biggest fan, indeed.

"Look… Heather?" he tried to reason with her. "Supernatural isn't real. It's just a series of books. That guy? Sam Winchester?" he tried to sound convincing even as he disowned himself. "He isn't real. So, while this has been very entertaining, really, I really do need to go."

"You are just too cute," Heather looked amused. She laughed as if it was the funniest thing, "Nice try. Sam Winchester isn't real? Good one."

Tired of trying her to make her see reason, Sam sighed and asked again, "What do you want from me?"

"Only what any fan girl, and most of the fan guys would kill for." She chewed at her fingernail, feigning shyness, even as her eyes glistened with excitement. "I want you to take your shirt off."

------

Dean was tired of waiting. Sure, he was feeling rather charitable at the moment but as the anticipated few moments of delay turned into ten and then fifteen minutes, he found himself getting impatient.

"Oh, c'mon, Sam, it doesn't take a scuba diver that long to take a piss." Of course, it might have been something more heavy duty going on in the john but Dean was pretty sure it still shouldn't have taken this long. Although as he thought about his own difficulties after his last 'flight' on Angel Airlines, he decided maybe he should cut the kid a little more slack.

"Okay, dude, five more minutes and then I'm coming in…"

------

"What?" Sam stared at the woman in shock. "You've got to be kidding me… I am not taking off my shirt." He turned to her husband for help – surely the man didn't want him to start removing clothing, did he? But one look at the impassive face and dark eyes watching him convinced him he'd be receiving no help from there.

"You've got a point," the petite blond moved back towards Sam, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement, "it'd be more fun if I did it!" Then before Sam could stop her, Heather grabbed him again but this time he felt a jolt of pain shoot up his arm and electrify his body.

Bonelessly he dropped to the ground, convulsing from the shock.

Taser, his mind screamed before it totally shut down.

He wasn't out for very long but it was long enough for Guy to manhandle him onto the large queen sized, four-poster bed. Dazedly he tried to struggle but his muscles still twitched from the residual effects of being tasered leaving the hunter weak as a kitten.

Within moments, Guy had his wrists and ankles tightly bound leaving him lying spread-eagled on his back, vulnerable and trembling.

Sam shook his head as Heather moved onto the bed.

"No, don't!" he protested, his voice hoarse and strained. Catlike she crawled towards him, slowly pressing herself over… then she straightened, straddling his hips.

"Get off!" he grunted, trying to buck her off but Heather just tightened her legs around his hips and moaned,

"Oh yeah… baby."

Sam closed his eyes in sick horror as she rocked back, hating himself as his body started to respond.

"No… please…" he begged but the determined woman just pushed herself against him harder.

"You don't mean that, Sammy…" she purred as she lowered her face towards him and licked a stripe up his throat ending in a kiss against his jaw.

His heart pounded in his chest as Sam continued to struggle. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. He opened his mouth to yell for help, Guy and his gun be damned, but Heather was there, her mouth pressed over his, her tongue invading and forceful.

Sam just felt sick.

Standing to the side, Guy watched, something dark and promising burning black in his eyes.

Heather finally pulled away from Sam's mouth, both of them gasping for air, Sam's eyes burning.

"Oh, baby," she licked her lips and ran her fingers over his muscular chest, invading, probing, unwanted, then started to unbutton his shirt.

Dean, Sam opened his mouth to shout for his brother but Guy stopped him. Moving quickly, a thick hand, smelling of cigarette smoke and something muskier, shoved hard against Sam's mouth.

"No noise," the man warned, his eyes locked hard on Sam's. He seemed to enjoy the fear he saw there. "Next time you open your mouth for anything, it's going to be for me." Sam's eyes widened, no longer aware of anything Heather was doing, his terror fully focused on Guy.

Satisfied that Sam understood, the big man removed his hand but kept his eyes firmly fixed on the younger man's face.

Heather finally finished with the last button and then pouted as she realized Sam was wearing a white undershirt.

"Layers? How could I forget. You're a man of many layers, both figurative and otherwise." But then she grinned. "You really do make a girl work for it, don't you Sammy? Mind you, I don't mind a bit of hard work."

Oh, God, Dean, please… but even as Sam prayed for his brother to come and stop this, he wondered, if he somehow deserved this.

It seemed kinda fitting, in a self-loathing way. The guy who was willing to sell his soul for revenge and started the apocalypse was about to be raped…

Heather took the tip of a knife and slowly slit up through his undershirt.

Guy placed his pistol on the near by night-stand and slowly started to unbutton his own shirt.

Suddenly Lucifer's voice was there, a caressing promise in the hunter's ear.

Just say yes, Sam, and I'll save you from this…

Just say yes…

Say yes.

------

Dean met Chuck and Becky coming out of the inn, his patience in waiting for Sam extended beyond thin. It'd been almost thirty minutes now. That was unhealthy regardless of the reason - okay, unless Sam had met a pretty woman or something. And then well thirty minutes was downright impressive.

"Hey, Dean," Becky greeted him with her unusual cheeriness; that was one chick who desperately needed to cut back on the caffeine. She glanced around him, "Where's Sam?"

"Well that takes the surprise out of my question," Dean smirked and then became serious as he looked at Chuck. "Guess that means you didn't see him inside, huh?"

Chuck looked back the way they'd come, he opened his mouth as if to say something then shut it again, but it was the way that the smaller man's face blanched and the sudden tightness around his eyes that Dean noticed.

"Chuck?" he growled, fully aware of how intimidating he sounded. But if the writer was holding back and it was about Sam, then how Dean sounded was the least of his worries.

"Uh," the man looked torn and the hunter didn't even try to understand. How the guy could live with himself when he had the knowledge to stop all this shit just by pulling either Winchester aside and being straight about things, was beyond Dean.

The gloves came off.

------

"So tell me, Sammy," Heather spoke as she slid back to sit on his legs and started to undo his belt buckle. "Is Madison really the last girl you slept with?"

Tears leaked down the side of Sam's face.

"You know," she continued conversationally as if she wasn't reaching into his pants. "There's a joke in the fandom that every woman you sleep with, dies…" Sam bit his lip to keep in the moan as her fingers brushed against him, "but I think that's a bit harsh. And even if it was true? Oh God, you're so worth the risk – just look at you." She stopped for a moment, her eyes drinking in his naked flesh. "You are just so beautiful like this."

"Heather – please… you don't want to do this," Sam choked out desperate to make this stop.

And she did… for a moment.

Still perched on his legs, the woman stared at him in confusion. "But I do," she insisted. "Don't you get it, Sammy? I'm the ultimate Mary Sue. Look at you, all tied down for me… I'm in total control," she leaned forward and raked her fingers down his chest, drawing a gasp of pain this time as she drew blood. "And then when I'm finished…" she glanced at Guy as the man stepped out of his pants and approached the bed, "I get to watch."

In the background, Lucifer kept promising salvation.

Say, yes, Sam –

Just say yes.

------

Dean had no idea what to expect when he kicked down the door, but this was not it. Chuck had tried to warn him, well once the hunter had terrified him enough into saying something, but until Dean actually saw it for himself, he really just had no idea just how bad things were going to be.

In a heartbeat he took it in; the images forever burned in his memory, a white-hot flame to his anger.

His brother – his Sammy – was half naked and bound to a bed as a pretty blond straddled his hips and a man wearing only his underwear and an erection pulled back from what looked like a kiss.

But all Dean could truly focus on was how Sam's chest stuttered out each breath.

In fear.

And that was what truly set him off.

But before Dean could totally surrender himself fully to that rage, he had two people to kill– Sam whimpered, fucking whimpered – and a little brother to take care of.

"HEY!" he bellowed and embraced the surge of fury. Forty years in hell had to be good for something –

And those sick bastards were about to find out for what.

TBC