Keep Each Other Human Chapter Two
"Aw, Sammy." Dean tugged the shoulder to turn his brother toward him, but seeing how Sam's features immediately tightened, Dean stopped, let the kid stay on his side. Shifting his own body for a better angle, Dean laid a palm to the side of Sam's face, felt the burn of fever, parchment dry skin. Dammit. How long had Sam been here for a fever to take hold? And what had the sonsabitches done to him to bring on an infection so quickly?
There was a gash on Sam's forehead, running down into the hairline at his ear. The blood around it was caked on in swirly smudges. Looked as though someone had tried to wipe it away with the edge of the blanket. At least one of the people in here had tried to look after his brother.
Dean pulled the blanket back, inspecting. His jaw clenched, seeing the rope binding Sam's wrists together, the chafed skin. He'd get those off in a minute. Lifting the hem of his sibling's dirty T-shirt, he let his palm slide along the heated flesh, his eyes raising as a shiver shot through the long torso . Ribs seemed okay, no breaks or give that he could feel, collar bones intact, but . . . he stopped, felt raised flesh. Stretching the shirt down from the neckline this time, Dean glimpsed angry purpling bruises, the edges already going to the shade of mustard. There were welts all over his back and chest like someone had gone after Sam with a rubber hose. Dean's chest started rising and falling in hard angry pulls of air.
It appeared as though Sam had been here for days. Had been beaten for days. Dean had slept two days straight, had been in the van for maybe another several hours at least. They could have taken Sam at any time in between then.
He had to get his brother out of here. Obviously his backup plan was shot to hell, since Sam coming to the rescue was that plan. Shit. Okay, he had to revise plan A. Revive baby brother and get him the hell out. Number one priority. They'd come back for the civilian hosts later.
"Here, Sammy." Dean patted Sam's cheek. "Wake up, kiddo. You need to drink." He dipped his fingers into the cup and dribbled a few drops of water onto Sam's dry lips.
Sam immediately began thrashing, moving his head away from Dean's hands. "No, no, c-can't . . ."
Dean grabbed hold of Sam's chin. "You need to drink."
"No!" Sam bolted upward, getting as far as his shoulders off the floor before crashing back down, slamming his head onto Dean's waiting palm.
"Easy. Sam, come on, wake up." Dean sprinkled more water over his brother's lips, hoping to bring him around.
Sam wrenched his entire body away, curling in on himself, his bound hands covering his face. "I can't, I can't. Gotta prove it to Dean. Please don't do this." Huge stuttering sobs shook through the young man's frame. "Don't want it don't want it don't want it."
This was getting them nowhere. "Sam! Wake up right now and drink this gaddamn water." Dean funneled every nuance of John Winchester into his voice that he could muster. "Not a request."
Sam instantly stilled. Dragging his hands down to his chin, he turned his head to look up at Dean. He looked like a friggin six-year-old playing peek-a-boo.
"Awake now?" Dean went for a cocky smile to reassure, but wasn't sure he succeeded. He probably had worry creases permanently burrowed into his forehead. Fevers tended to do a number on Sam's already whacked up head and even without a thermometer the heat coming off Sam's skin was frightening.
"Dean?" Sam let himself flop onto his back, squeezing his eyes tight at the flash of pain. "Why are you here?"
Dean slid his hand beneath Sam's shoulders to lift him up. "To get you some water."
Sam's head shook. "You're not Dean. That's not water. It's a trick. Just . . . just go away."
"I'm not . . .?" Dean frowned down at Sam, wondering what was going on in that freaky brain. "If it's not water, then what-?" He got it. He got exactly what was going on now. What the demons wanted.
"Have they been giving you demon blood?"
Sam's eyes opened, latched onto Dean's. "Tried. But I didn't, I didn't."
Weariness settled into Dean's bones. "Sam, you don't have to say that. They're demons." He sighed. "It's not your fault that they forced you to."
Sam's forehead creased, his brows lowering as he looked away from Dean. "But I didn't. They're not forcing. They want . . ." His chin trembled. "W-want me to give in. That's why the be . . ." He stopped, lifted his shoulders in a miniscule shrug.
"That's why the beatings," Dean finished for him. The demons weren't trying to just get Sam back on the juice, they were after something much larger. It was about breaking him. Once they broke him enough to say yes to drinking the blood on their terms, it'd only be a matter of time before he was so far over the edge he'd accept anything, even Lucifer wearing him like a hand puppet. Dean had seen this technique applied on the rack. Baby steps toward submission. Submission to damnation. Once one small precious hold on self was given up, that was the end. After that everything came tumbling down.
"I didn't drink it." Sam's head started shifting in Dean's hand. His wrists twisted around inside the ropes, trying to pull them apart. "I didn't drink it. I didn't. Not when Reggie forced it down my throat."
"Reggie?"
"Not when the demons . . . oh God." Sam pulled his hands back over his face as a long shudder rippled through his muscles.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, Sammy. It's okay." He pulled Sam's head up into his lap, slightly relieved when the kid let him. Dean didn't know what to do. It was obvious that Sam hadn't had water for a long time, and with this fever . . .
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"I didn't drink the blood."
"Okay."
"I wish you were really here so you would know that."
"Sam . . ."
"Well, go on, answer your brother. I'm dying to hear what you're going to say."
Every muscle in Dean's face tightened, recognizing the patronizing female voice directly behind him. Meg.
"Oh, you'll be dying all right." He looked over his shoulder. Meg stood a couple of feet away still in the slight Brunette she'd been wearing the day Bobby stabbed himself to spare Dean. Chatty demon and two other men were behind her.
Dean shifted Sam off his lap, preparing to stand, guard him, protect. "Should have known you'd be behind this. Has your stink all over it."
"Awww." Meg cocked one hip out, body rocking on the heel of her boot. "Not happy to see me?"
Dean stood to face her, adrenaline coursing beneath his skin. It took everything in him not to rush over and snap her scrawny neck. "I'm happy to see you. Cause this time, Sweetheart, I'm going to end you."
She just looked at the ceiling. "Again? That's getting old. I try to kill you, you exorcise me. Yadda yadda. Same ol'. Besides I already have another meatsuit picked out in the other room. She's stunning. It's like one-stop shopping, though I'd kinda like to stay in this one for a while. She's comfy." Tilting her head, Meg looked at Sam. Dean shifted sideways in a lame attempt to shield Sam even from her gaze. Meg smiled.
"Enough of this," Chatty barked. "We have the second brother. Let's move onto the next phase." The three male demons came forward, moving around Meg.
"Stay away from him." Dean shoved one of the men away, swung out at another.
"Hmm, sorry Baby." Smiling like a rebellious child, Meg flung out a hand and Dean flew back over his brother into the cinderblock wall, an invisible force pulsing up against him, making it difficult to breathe. His boots dangled just above his brother's head until the demons pulled Sam to his feet. The young man sagged between them while Chatty pulled his head back by his hair.
Sam's face was a study in pain. It looked like he was barely keeping his eyes steady on the demon. Chatty pulled a glass vial from the inside pocket of his jacket. Dark red liquid sloshed inside. "Drink." The demon pushed the vial beneath Sam's nose. His breathing pinched on a gasp.
Dean's heart skidded in his chest. Sam firmed his lips, shaking his head in tiny rapid jerks. And everything inside of Dean quieted. He stared at his brother. Sam was fighting so hard. Had been fighting this for so long.
"Just say yes." The demon leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's only a little."
"Nuh." Shivering, Sam turned his face away.
Chatty straightened. "Fine then." He stretched out a palm and one of the demons holding up Sam pulled out a thick rubbery tube and handed it to the man. When it was brought into Sam's view, the young hunter flinched. Ah, hell. Dean's hands clenched into fists. It was probably the tube that had already been used on his younger sibling.
Sam lifted his head, trying to be defiant, but the effect was wasted with the low tremors visibly rattling through him. The demon walked a slow circle around Sam and the other two demons. Sam's chest was rising and falling harder and faster each time the tube came into his view.
"Oh." Chatty lifted it toward Sam's face again. "Did you think this was for you?" He mocked a frown. "This time, I'm going to use it on your brother over there. Unless of course . . . hmmm . . . you'd want to take a little sip of blood. Not much, just a little sip. Save your brother a wealth of hurt."
Dean's nostrils flared. So that was their game. They'd brought him here to use against his brother. He was about to tell them how many ways they could shove their plan up their asses when Sam's voice rasped out. "Go ahead."
That took the bite out of Dean's threats. Go ahead? Was not expecting that.
Sam smiled. "That's not Dean. My brother's not even here."
Dean couldn't help the grin. Score one for the good guys. Bet the demons weren't expecting that either.
"Oh really?" Chatty lunged, whipping the tube out. It caught Dean on the side. Unprepared he let out a yelp, but was ready, clamped down for the next hit across his chest.
Chatty spun on Sam. The other demons had turned him, held his head back so he couldn't escape seeing what they did to Dean. Meg hadn't moved, just watched calmly.
Chatty had lost all composure. "Still think that's not your brother? That he's not real?" The tube whipped out again and Dean clenched his muscles, gritting his teeth. Crap, that hurt. He remained silent, taking all the blows, his gaze seeking his brother's and when their eyes met, held, Dean gave an imperceptible shake of his head, conveying, Don't give in, I can take this, which was a monumental mistake. He knew it the moment he did it, the same moment Sam's face drained of all his hard-won resolve because with that one gesture, that connection the brothers had of being able to pass everything between them, Sam knew. He knew Dean was really here and that his brother was taking a mother of a beating for him. Dean felt like the biggest moron in the world.
Sam's eyes were huge, wet. Don't do it, Dean silently plead. Keep pretending. Don't let them know. Don't give them any leverage.
But when the tube was lifted again, Sam's voice squeaked out, hollow and defeated. "Stop." Dean let his head fall forward.
The tube still raised, Chatty glanced over his shoulder at Sam. "Did I hear you right?"
Tears streamed down Sam's cheeks. "Just stop. Please stop."
Chatty turned, pulled out the vial of blood. "You know what to do to make it stop."
Dean looked up. "Sammy."
Sam's chest was heaving. Too rapidly. His eyes darted between the upheld vial and then Dean. "I can't. I can't. I gotta prove to Dean that I won't. I won't. Gotta prove it."
Dean's heart dropped to his toes, leaving his chest a hollow empty thing. He saw just how brutally that choice was breaking his brother. Let Dean suffer a beating or wallow under big brother's distrust. Since when had he become Sam's judge and jury? God, he was a stupid ass. He saw it now. He had broken his brother far more thoroughly than any of these demons ever could.
No more. This wasn't Sam's fault and Dean was going to give his brother the way out right now. "Sam."
Sam's gaze shot to his, wretched, barely holding it together.
"Drink the blood."
Sam started shaking again. "Nuh . . . can't. Gotta . . . gotta prove to you."
"Already have, Sam. This one's a freebie."
Quiet, the demons looked from one brother to the other. Meg's brows lowered, more thoughtful than Dean had ever seen her. Chatty lifted the vial to Sam's lips.
Sam craned his head away, trembling feverishly. Something wasn't right, well, less right than the whole fucking situation. Dean could see it in his brother's twitchy motions, in the way his gaze was flicking around the room, unfocused. His breathing was far too rapid. His flesh that was too pale moments ago was now flushed. The choice was too large, too warped. Sam couldn't take it. He was retreating. Suddenly his body stiffened, head flung back, veins in his neck bulging. His chest had expanded, but there had been no exhalation. Then just as suddenly he gasped, legs going out from under him, bound arms trying to flail in rapid shakes from a full on grand mal. The demons barely kept him from crashing to the floor.
Caught off guard, Meg lost her grip of air and Dean fell to the floor. He was across the room, shoving at the demons. "Get off him! Don't restrain him. He's having a seizure!"
Completely out of their element, the demons released Sam, letting him fall into Dean's arms, where Dean lowered him the rest of the way to the floor, keeping Sam's head cushioned on his knee, loosely holding Sam while the seizure played itself out.
Vaguely he heard Meg order the other demons away, barely noticed them stride out and shut the door, leaving the brothers alone while the last of Sam's tremors subsided.
TBC