AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! So I haven't updated in a while. Well, honestly...I've been on quite a writer block so I just did what I can to make this chapter good enough. Thank you all for your great support, everyone who faved/alerted/reviewed my stories. :)
Dean was going out of his mind as he paced back and forth anxiously, with all the horror shows that are going through his head as to what they might be doing to his brother right now. He didn't really like how he sounded in the phone. He sounded so scared and broken and vulnerable and so damn helpless.
He had been trying to figure out a way to find and save his little brother from the hands of those ruthless monsters all the while struggling with the guilt that was weighing him down, wondering if things could've happened differently if he took Sam in and didn't turn him down.
It was a huge mistake. He realized that now. They were never better off apart, because something always went wrong when they were apart. And Sam had forgiven all of his unforgivable mistakes, had never held it against him. And even if he did, it wasn't for long. Sammy didn't even think twice about forgiving him when he confessed to him about hell and all the things that he did. Hell, he didn't even believe there was anything to forgive. He had blamed himself for the starting of the apocalypse when Dean had a hand in it too, and Dean had blamed him for it to even when he had no right to. Maybe, he was just scared to admit about his part in bringing on the apocalypse.
He plopped down on the edge of his bed and sighed frustratedly. He couldn't think of a damn thing.
He felt anger and frustration bubble up inside of him as his fists and jaw clenched and unclenched as if he just wants to pummel something, or maybe someone. He thought as he fantasized using all the tricks he learned from Alastair on those damn hunters. The thought brought a small vicious smile to his face. But he struggled to keep it all at bay as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relaxed his tense posture to calm himself down. Because he knew his anger isn't going to help him in the least.
He sighed and rested his elbows on his lap, his nose between his knuckles as he tried to think of a way to rescue Sam. The hunters have got to leave some trail as to where they took his little brother.
He startled and jumped slightly when his phone rang in his jean's pocket and stared at the glowing screen that flashed 'Bobby'. After a few rings before he answered it. "Hey Bobby, you got anything?" Dean greeted.
"Hey Dean. Well, yeah actually. I've found a tracking spell. And I think you should come to my place. I might need a little help since my legs are kinda...immobile." Bobby said.
"Uh, yeah, okay. I'll be there." Dean said and with that, he hung up the phone as he walked over to his duffel bag. Everything was already packed inside, so he just shouldered it and walked outside and into his beloved car. He gunned the engine and drove towards the rental office to check out.
Time had elapsed quite slowly for him and he lost track of it. He doesn't remember how long it has been, but it felt like years, like his whole life. He doesn't remember anything at all, not even his own name, except the torment and agony that he endured these past months or years or however long it had been.
He laid, curling into a fetal position, to relieve some of the agony. The beatings would leave him exhausted, but he couldn't fall asleep, couldn't go into the world of oblivion. He found no peace anywhere, not even in dreams. He'd only get to relive the torture if he fell asleep.
He felt something wet and warm slide down the corner of his eyes and he let out a small, quiet sob.
The sound of the unlocking of the metal door echoed into the room and he started to panic as his heart rate started increasing and his breathing turned shaky and rapid. He jerked up and immediately forced himself into the corner, ignoring the pain the sudden movement caused. He curled into himself and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried his forehead on his knees, rocking back and forth.
One of the hunters named Mark walked in, with a plate of moldy food. A sandwich that had black fungus covering some places of the bread. And that's why he had become quite abstemious that elucidated his loss of muscle and the weight of his body and strength.
Mark walked over to the untidy cot and bent down as he pushed the unwashed plate towards him. "Here's your food." Mark snarled disgustedly as he eyed the tainted monster curled fetally in the corner.
He hesitantly shook his head lightly as he rocked back and forth, which only seemed to anger the hunter even more.
"You're supposed to take what you're given, you ungrateful little shit!" He screamed angrily at him.
He rocked faster, his hands fisted in his head, his trembling arms desperately trying to block out all the psychologically abusive, taunting words.
"D-don'...pl'se." He pleaded tearfully, his voice barely above a broken whisper.
Mark breathed heavily with fury raging inside of him. "Monster." He spat in disgust before walking out.
Monster. Freak. Evil. Disgusting. Tainted. Worthless. Pathetic. Monster. Freak. Evil. Disgusting. Tainted. Worthless. Pathetic. Monster. Freak. Evil. Disgusting. Tainted. Worthless. Pathetic.
He sobbed brokenly as the voices taunted him in his head and he desperately tried to cover his ears, drive the voices away, pressed his trembling palms against his ears and rocked back and forth, desperate to push them out of his traumatised mind. The tears poured out of his eyes and flowed openly down his cheeks, letting out small, broken whimpers constantly.
And somewhere deep in the back of his mind, where he probably couldn't hear it, there was a small voice that kept repeating the same plea.
Dean, save me please.
Dean had tried calling Castiel for help, but he wasn't answering and it just kept going to voicemail. He wasn't going to trust any other hunter for back-up, so he only had one option, and that was to go in alone.
I'm coming, Sammy.
Here he stood, outside of a dusty and a crappy building, a gun ready in his hand and he's definitely not afraid to use it. He'd kill a human if it means to save his baby brother. Hell, they're not even human anymore in his eyes. They're just the monsters who have hurt his little brother. And once he gets him out of here, he's going to mutilate those bastards.
He picked the lock of the dirty wooden door and slowly pushed the creaking door open, which he hoped nobody heard.
He walked inside slowly and as quietly as possible, a loaded gun on his hand. He looked around cautiously, his senses on alert.
He jumped slightly when he heard laughter boom from his left and he pressed his back against the wall as he moved towards where the voices were coming from.
"The way he's always rocking back and forth and whimpering, pathetic!" One of the hunters exclaimed and he heard them all laugh, which made his blood boil with anger and he resisted the urge to go in and shoot them all at once.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his anger. Save Sammy and get out of here. He repeated it like a mantra in his head. The bastards were in the kitchen, drinking beers and having fun while Sam is somewhere here, beaten and vulnerable.
He turned away and was about to walk off to find his brother.
Until he felt his back slam against the wall, dropping the gun in surprise and he let out a small grunt of pain. Then a hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed.
"Who the hell are you!" He yelled loudly, which might have brought the attention of all the other hunters. Shit.
Dean kicked him in the leg, it was feeble but it was enough to make him release the hold around his throat and he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him. "Where is my brother?" He growled in his ear angrily.
The hunter furrowed his eyebrows, but then smirked as the realization hit him. "Oh...so you are the Dean Winchester. I didn't really think you'd come, thought you might've finally realized that your brother's nothing but a tainted, disgusting mon - " He was cut off by his own scream of agony as Dean lifted his arm higher and he heard a sickening snap of his own bone breaking, the pain made him fall to his knees as Dean continued to raise it higher behind his back and finally, he passed out as he fell to the ground in a thud.
"Don't you dare talk about my brother like that.." Dean whispered furiously.
And he turned around, only to find more trouble as a fist came swinging straight at his face but he ducked instinctively just in time. He threw a hard kick to his gut and the hunter fell to the ground in agony. He turned to the other six hunters.
"Dean." Tim said and cocked his head as he smiled.
Dean stared, his mouth gaping in disbelief. Tim, he was one of dad's friends.
He didn't notice as the hunter behind him recovered and he raised the butt of the gun and connected it with his head.
Hey guys! So I was on a writer's block and that's why I haven't updated for a while, but now I'm back! :D
Karate For Kurata, LeighAnnWallace, NotOnFlatBread, Dean'sLilAngel, UThnkUrFunny IThnkImAdorable, micksmouse, jensensgirl3, Ally, Souless666, kiwimoonelmo, angeleyenc, JaredPadaleckiFan, AlElizabeth, brynerose and all the people who have faved and alerted this story. Thank you so much! :)