WARNING: some rather graphic torture of both boys in this although mostly it is the other brother's view of what is happening that is told.

Can someone really make John choose between his boys??

Chapter One

John Winchester had picked up the packet from his mail drop and taken it back to Bobby's place. He ripped the packet opened and took out another, slightly smaller envelope, a cell phone and a small note. The words of the note made his blood run cold.

One father, two sons,

Two lives, one choice,

One to live, one to die,

Sam or Dean, Dean or Sam.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.

Call the number and leave a name, choose one John or loose both. Don't take too long though John, the clock is ticking. You have fourteen days to decide which to lose. Your time starts and ends at midnight. Don't worry we'll let you know how your boys are doing.

Can you tell which one put up the best fight?

John froze when the pictures fell out on the table. There was one picture each of both of his boys; they were on their knees, hands behind their backs, pulled up high to force their heads down. Their heads though weren't down; they had been pulled back up by the hair so John could get a good look at their faces.

The top picture was Sam. His face was a mess, bloody and beaten, the sight of the damage almost making John sick.

The bottom picture was Dean; at least John thought it was Dean, 'cos his son's face was unrecognisable. He was only sure it was Dean from the amulet that hung from his neck.

"Dear god!" It was Bobby that vocalised the thought in John's head. "What the hell did they do to him?" John thought he could see the marks of knuckle dusters on his eldest son's face. That did it. He threw back the chair and bolted for the bathroom, leaving Bobby staring at his wake.

John felt his whole insides where about to leave him, how was he supposed to do what they asked? How the hell was he supposed to make that choice? He couldn't, which left only one thing to do. He had to find them before his time ran out. He got up off his knees and washed his face.

Bobby was glad for once to see that look on John's face. Someone or something was going to pay for laying a hand on the sons of John Winchester; Bobby looked back at the pictures and hoped that he was there when they did.

"Bobby, can you trace the boy's cell phones, I doubt that they've still got them on them but it could provide a place to start." John the soldier was back, calm and in command.

Bobby watched as John threw things into his duffle. "Okay, so what are you gonna do?"

"Me? I'm gonna go to the roadhouse, ask Ellen for help, look up a few old contacts while I'm there. And then…….I'm gonna get my damn boys back, both of them."

With that John Winchester stormed out of the house.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam looked around the room; trying to lift his head high enough to see his brother who was bound in a similar fashion to himself on the other side. He'd called to him a few times but Dean couldn't or wouldn't look up. Sam face was agony were they had hit him, he could still feel where bare knuckles had bruised his skin, feel his eye swelling.

Dean had heard his brother call to him but to lift his head had just required to much damned effort, besides, Dean knew that he had some serious damage to his face. They had used knuckle dusters on him and he knew that his nose and at least one of his cheekbones were broken. What worried him most though was that he couldn't see right out of his left eye, it felt as it had moved somehow, that it no longer rested were it should. He could feel the blood as it trickled from his lips. He drifted in and out of consciousness as the pain ebbed and flowed through him.

The lights flickered and went out and both men moaned. They were coming back.

Sam flinched as the finger touched him, reaching out through the darkness, poking him in the chest and that voice whispered in his ear.

"Eeny" it said. "Miny" it said.

Dean flinched as the finger touched him, reaching out through the darkness, poking him in the chest and that voice whispered in his ear.

"Meeny" it said. "Moe" it chuckled.

Dean shuddered and then groaned. It was going to be his turn first.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam could hear the drip, drip of the water and knew that they were about to do something else to his brother. He screamed across to them to leave him alone. It was so dark; he could only make out outlines of shapes, flitting round the kneeling shape that he knew to be Dean.

He heard the rip of cloth and rightly assumed that they had removed his brother's shirt and t-shirt. There was the clanking of chains and Sam heard his brother groan as they shifted his position. The hum of electricity filled the air and he heard Dean's voice mumble something, too low for Sam to pick up anything but the tremble in it. Sam knew what they were going to do. He strained his neck and his eyes to see his brother, to somehow try to help him through this but the dark shapes surrounded him once again and blocked Dean from his sight.

There was a flash as they touched the current to the wet skin of his brother's chest and Dean's scream of agony lit up the room. He heard his brother's plea of 'no, please' and closed his eyes. Sam listened as they tortured his brother again and again; wishing he could close his hearing off too, wishing that he could make the gut-wrenching sound of his brother's screams stop.

The worst noise however was his brother's desperate pleading for it to end.

Finally, Dean's tortured screams faded to breathless sobs and Sam shivered as he heard them drag the equipment over beside him and felt their hands tug at his clothes.

Unable to cry out for his brother Dean let the tears trail his cheeks as Sam's screams and pleas for help tore through his very soul.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Traced the phones to a garage" Bobby's voice sounded strained.

"Where?" John barked at Bobby when he didn't answer directly. "Bobby, for Christ's sake, WHERE?"

"Lawrence, Kansas."

"Which one?" John already thought he knew.

"It's called Guenther's now but it……."

John finished the sentence for him. "….was the one that I owned."

"John, I'm on my way there now, but I don't think your boys are there. I'll call you when I get there."

"Thanks Bobby, I'm gonna stop at the roadhouse, it isn't too much farther now. See what I can dig up."

John had just put the phone down to Bobby when the other one that they had sent him started to ring.

He opened it and was greeted by the sound of a little chuckle.

"Audio is so much better than visual, don't you think John? Your imagination so much more vivid than sight of the actual act."

There was a pause and then he heard the screams and knew it was Dean, knew even before he heard his eldest son's voice beg for them to stop. He felt tears fill his eyes; he had never heard his son beg like that, a broken plea for the torment to end. The phone went silent and then the sounds of Sam's screams replaced Dean's, if anything more pain filled than Dean's, his son begging for someone to help him.

Then silence.

The soft chuckle drifted down the airwaves to him again.

"What the hell is it you want?!"

The phone went silent again and he thought the call had dropped until the voice creeped into his brain again. "I want you to choose one to die, John. Do it now and it will end to suffering of the other, do it too late and it'll be the end of both. Do you have something you want to say to me John?"

"I'm gonna kill you, you sick fuck!" John spat the words down the phone.

"No John, this is going to do that to you."