Disclaimer: Nothing original in here. Dean, Sam and Bobby belong to Supernatural's Erik Kripke
A friend in need is a friend indeed l
Dean had had a bad afternoon all together. First, there had only been ice cold water in the shower and he certainly didn't feel up to stepping into it. It wasn't very macho, he knew, and he wouldn't ever admit it to anyone, but since he was alone he could afford not to get soaked in ice cold water. But he had wanted a shower and being denied one made him irritated.
Then he had realised that he had lost his favourite knife in the last ghost hunt some 300 miles south. He had been torn between immediately getting into the car and drive all the way back, and to flop down in front of the TV, having just driven 300 miles... But the knife would certainly be in the lockup of some police station by now, the scene they had left behind hadn't exactly been unobtrusive. He'd miss that knife!
And to top it off Sam hadn't come back to the motel after his walk. Dean was used to him being away for different lengths of time, but he was also used to having a feeling for how long Sam needed to be alone. And after two hours he was getting concerned. They hadn't seen anything particularly troubling in the last week and they hadn't been fighting.
He had decided to call and found that Sam's phone was shut off. Sure, he could have gone to the movies if he had seen something interesting on display... but he still wouldn't have shut off the cellphone. Not anymore than the President's bodyguards would. They were hunted by every evil thing on general principles and by a score of demons for personal reasons. They needed to stay in touch.
By eight in the evening Sam had been missing for four hours and Dean was slowly going frantic. He had cruised all the streets in the little town in the Impala, looking for his brother's body, getting out in every dark, suspicious alley to have a look among the dustbins and the few homeless the town could support, called the hospital and the police station and walked the darkened baseball court, shining his torch in every shadow. All to no avail.
He was sitting behind the wheel outside the motel, looking at the dark windows of the room, knowing Sam wasn't in there, and considered calling Bobby or Missouri to get some help. Or maybe Ellen. He knew the hunters still kept her in the loop. But if she had known about some hunter going after Sam she would have called them straight away. It didn't make sense.
He held the cell in his hand when it finally signalled an arrival of a message and his mind flooded with feelings in rapid succession; the first one was profound relief, immediately followed by anger because he had been frightened, then growing fear as he wondered why he was getting a message instead of a call. But that fear was nothing compared to what the short film sequence generated. Dean almost doubled over as an icicle with barbs staked his stomach.
"Sam, SAM! What's happening? Where are you? Sam!"
Dean was yelling at the screen, the thought of "recording" didn't make it through the fear at first and he kept calling until it stopped. Then he stared numbly at it and, with shaking hands, he played it again. This time he paid attention to what his brother was saying and the icicle turned behind his navel. Sam was captive, helpless, bleeding, in enemy hands. And he pleaded for Dean's life… It was unbearable, but since there was no one else to bear it Dean did. He read the message that went with the sequence. "EXPECT A CALL IN 5 MIN. NO NEGOTIATIONS"
Dean opened the car and went out, breathing huge gulps of air. He couldn't stand up straight and it felt as though he needed to throw up. He stretched his torso across the hood of the Impala, letting its cool, rain soaked surface ease the pain in his stomach. After a little while he felt the dizziness abate and he resolutely swallowed the bile.
The words "no negotiations" kept repeating in his head. What if they'd only call him up to make him listen to Sam die? No, it couldn't mean that. That was worst case scenario and they never happened. Or did they? No. No. It had to mean that he would be given an ultimatum, something horrible most like. What would he have to do? His mind presented an overwhelming mass of pictures of things he had already done. To repeat them would be awful but it could be done. Couldn't it? Dean swallowed, he wasn't absolutely certain he could do those things ever again. Not even for Sam. All that was left to do was wait.
Shouldn't they have called by now? He looked at the cellphone he clutched and noticed that his hand was shaking. That was bad, he had to be in control now. The display showed that five minutes had lapsed and then, while he was looking at it, it rang. Dean promptly dropped it from sheer shock and quickly had to dive for it under the car. Then, at the same time as he pushed the answer button on the phone he also pushed the hunter's switch inside him, hiding all fear deep, and answered in a controlled voice.