Disclaimer: haha! I wish...
This chapter is a little bit darker than the rest, though not a whole lot (Not like my other stories :P) Just giving you a heads up
I'm a little uncertain about where I'm going with this story, so please give me feedback XD
Enjoy chapter four!
Sam and Dean were once again thrown into their rooms. Sam just lay there, still trying to catch his breath. Dean crawled over to his brother and flung an arm around his shoulders. "You okay, Sammy?"
Sam put a finger up, telling Dean to wait a moment. Sam swallowed a couple times before nodding. "'M fine. You?"
"I'm fine, Sam." Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders and helped him onto the bed. Dean's boot hit something with a soft click and when he looked down, he saw a couple bowls of thin soup. Dean picked them up and handed one to Sam. "Bon appetit!" Dean said dryly before quickly draining his soup in a couple gulps. He winced at the texture and taste. It was like swallowing phlegm with chunks in it.
Sam just stared at his bowl. "Could it kill them to give us some water?" he rasped out.
Dean shrugged. "Maybe later. Eat that Sam. You need to keep your strength up." Dean bent over to put his bowl back on the ground when he heard Sam curse behind him. Dean sat back up and said, "What?"
"You're back!"
Dean sighed. "It's not that bad. Doesn't even need stitches."
"No, but now you have two open wounds."
"So?"
"So... in case you haven't noticed, this place is a breeding ground for deadly infections!"
"I'll be fine Sam."
Sam shook his head and looked at the soup again before quickly draining it. He winced at the texture and taste.
"I guess we should go to sleep now," Dean said.
Sam scoffed. "You're joking right?"
"What do you suggest we do?"
Sam pursed his lips together. He wanted to say something along the lines of trying to break free... but then again, what could they do? Sam sighed. "There's only one bed, Dean."
"We've slept in the same bed before. What's the problem?"
"How about the fact that last time we slept in a bed together, we were teenagers and it was a king size. This is only a full."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Really, Sam. We'll fit fine. And if we don't, I don't mind sleeping on the floor."
"With your back!? Nah ah. I'll be the one sleeping down there."
"You have more lashes than me!"
"None of mine are open."
"Fine..." Dean growled. He pulled the blanket and pillow off and handed them to Sam.
"Dean..." Sam said.
"If I get the mattress, you get the rest," Dean said. No arguments allowed.
Sam sighed as he lowered himself to the floor and lay out the blanket and pillow. Dean lay down on the mattress while Sam lay on the ground.
"Wish they'd turn off the lights," Dean said.
"Whatever, dude." Now that Sam was laying down, he felt exhaustion start to overcome him. "Go to sleep."
Dean rolled on his stomach and closed his eyes, going over possible escape strategies for getting out of there.
---
When Sam woke up, the first thing he noticed was that the light was off. Then he heard what woke him up.
Dean.
Dean was moaning and tossing in his sleep. His breathing was slightly labored and the occasional whimper emitted from him.
"Son of a bitch..." Sam whispered. He quickly got up and worked his way through the pure darkness. When he felt the edge of the bed and sat on the side, he could feel Dean moving around and the heat emitting from him. Sam grabbed Dean's shoulders and noticed the slippery wetness there.
He was burning up, sweat coating him, and Sam couldn't get him to wake up.
Sam hurried to the door and starting banging. "Hey! My brother's sick! He needs help! Hey!"
All the scenarios ran through Sam's head. What if Dean died because he couldn't get the proper attention? He'd go to hell and leave Sam alone in this hell hole, and Sam wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
Sam doubled his efforts. "SOMEBODY! HELP! MY BROTHER NEEDS HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE!"
Suddenly the door swung open. Sam cringed fell back at the bright floodlights cast into the dark room.
A man walked in and grabbed Sam's shackles in his shocked state and quickly attached him to the padlock. Other men surrounded Dean, examining him.
"Hey!" Sam yelled. "You gonna help him or what!?"
The man that padlocked him hit him across the face with brass knuckles. Sam shook his head to get rid of the sudden dizziness and looked back up with a bruised face and bloody lip.
"You will not speak unless spoken to, Mutt."
The men surrounding Dean suddenly picked him up and carried him out.
"What are you --!"
The man kneed Sam in the stomach, causing Sam to cough and double over as far as the padlock would let him. "You just don't learn, do you, Mutt?" He started to beat Sam. The brass knuckles bruised and cut Sam's skin, the man kicked Sam hard with steel-toed shoes.
After he was done, he unlocked Sam's padlock and Sam fell limply to the ground, moaning and breathing heavily.
"Until tomorrow, Mutt." He left and started to shut the door.
"Wait..." Sam whispered. "My brother... where's my brother!"
The door slammed shut, leaving Sam in the pitch dark, bruised and bleeding.
---
When Dean woke up, he felt awful. His body felt heavy and his back was on fire.
He was laying on his stomach, on a clean bed with sheets. Dean's eyes snapped open. He winced at the bright light, but managed to keep his eyes open. The room was bright white and clean and Dean immediately recognized it as a hospital room.
"Sam..." Dean whispered. Dean tried to get up, only to discover that his wrists and ankles were in soft restraints. Dean started to pant as he suddenly felt very tired. "What the hell..."
"Butch?"
Dean looked up and saw Blu looking at him concerned. "Butch, how are you feeling?"
"Fine. Where's Sam?"
Blu frowned. "Who?"
"Sa - Oh. Mutt."
Blu's eyes widened and she looked around to make sure they were alone. "Don't get caught calling him by his real name. They'll punish you, even if you're sick."
"I'm not sick. Where is he?"
"I assume he's still in your cell." Blu dipped a white cloth in a bowl of water and squeezed out the excess. She started to dab Dean's back carefully. "You have an infection. Thankfully we caught it early on so you should be able to go back to work in a day or two."
"'Thankfully?'" Dean inquired. He couldn't imagine going to work in that awful place as something better than this.
"If you're here for too long, they'll order to put you down."
"Oh."
Blu continued to dab Dean's back. Dean closed his eyes as the ministrations. He found it soothing, despite the circumstances. "Blu?"
"Yes?"
Dean opened his eyes. "How come you're not like the others? They all seem to just be zombies..."
Blu paused in her dabbing. She dipped the cloth in the bowl again and left it there. "I don't know. Madam Handerson took pity on me after my first beating. When she discovered that I was a trained nurse, she granted me immunity. Though if my transactions are serious enough, I may still be punished." Blu grabbed the cloth and wrung out the excess water. As she started dabbing again, she said, "Even though you and your brother have to call each other by your new names, you need to try and remember your old ones. They're pretty much key to keeping yourself here."
"What's your real name?"
Blu cast her eyes down on Dean's back and Dean realized. She didn't remember hers.
"I don't really remember anything from before," she whispered. "I remember a handsome man that made me happy but... I don't remember his name, or how I even knew him. And even that memory is fading." Blu put the cloth back in the bowl and stood. "I have other duties to attend to. I'll be back in a while to check on you." She turned to leave.
Dean could tell he was starting fall unconscious again. "Blu!" Dean managed out.
Blu stopped and turned to look at the Winchester.
"Can you check on my brother? Let him know that I'm going to be okay. I'm sure he's worrying himself into the ground..."
Blu gave a small smile and Dean was struck by how beautiful she was when she did. And he found himself wondering how beautiful she was with a full blown smile...
"I shall try, Butch."
With this, Dean fell unconscious.
---
It was very boring laying strapped to a hospital bed for hours on end. Dean was actually kind of grateful when he was unconscious. Time moved faster. Blu came in every two to check up on him. Most of the time, Dean was out and unaware of her presence. She would sit with him and if he was awake, they would to talk about pointless things. That and Sam. Blu had not been able to see Sam yet, but she said she would continue to try.
There were no windows, no clocks and the lights were never turned off so he had no way of knowing how long he was unconscious for or even how long he'd been there.
Dean remembered Marc saying how they'd have a 'training session' every morning and evening and was praying to high heaven that they weren't going too hard on Sam. Blu said he'd be in here for two days max, so Dean hoped that they wouldn't be able to do too much damage. Sam was a strong kid. He'd hopefully make it through fine.
---
After a while, Dean started to stay conscious more than unconscious. He wasn't sweating profusely, and he wasn't fevered and quite as uncomfortable as before. "How long has it been?"
"A day and half," Blu responded while writing down Dean's stats. "It's about 2 in the afternoon."
"Have you--?
"I haven't seen Mutt. If he's anything like you though, I'm sure he's fine."
Dean nodded. It still didn't ease his worry though. "So when am I getting out of here?"
"Marc and a couple of his men will come to re-shackle you and take you to the factory soon. Then you'll be put back to work at your post."
Then I can check up on Sam.
"I have to go and give this information to Master Handerson. I'll see you later, Butch."
"Bye, Blu," Dean mumbled to her back as she left. She really was a beautiful woman. Any other circumstance, Dean would definitely hit on her.
As promised, a little while later, Marc and a couple of his cronies entered the room. "Ready to work, Butch?" he sneered.
"Definitely," Dean said with a glare, silently telling him he was a dead man if anything was wrong with his brother. (Not that he wasn't a dead man already in Dean's book.)
Marc smiled and nodded to the men. They slowly undid the soft restraints and at the same time, attaching the shackles and reopening the cuts that they had left before.
When Dean was completely shackled, he was lead outside. Dean looked around and saw that the clinic was a separate building near the factory. It was a strange sight, the dirty, ugly factory next to the white, clean clinic. Although the arrangement made sense, the irony wasn't lost on Dean.
They walked into the building and shoved Dean in. "Go to your post, Butch," Marc ordered before he and the men left.
Dean didn't need to be told twice. He practically ran to his post, looking for Sam. He didn't see him at first, but then saw the shaggy haired man placing the guns in a neat pile so they were easier to carry. Dean ran up to him and smiled. "Hey, Sammy," he whispered so he wouldn't be heard.
Sam didn't respond just picked up the guns and carried them to a crate. Dean frowned. He quickly picked up a pile of guns himself and followed Sam. "Sammy! Are you alright?" Dean did a quick once over of Sam, berating himself for not doing it sooner, and felt his heart sink.
Sam's back was a mass of dried blood. Small rivulets of blood leaked out through small cracks that were formed from Sam moving too much. His pants were filthy, soaked in sweat and piss.
Son of a bitch! I was only gone for a day and a half! "Sam!" Dean whispered harshly. When they both had placed their pile of guns down and started heading back, Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder and shook it hard.
Sam gasped in pain and finally looked at him. Dean suddenly wished he hadn't.
His face was bruised up and his lower lip was completely split through on the left side, making his lip flap around uselessly. His eyes were glassy and blank, but worst of all, they held no recognition when they looked at Dean.
So... how is it? I'm not sure about the direction of the story, so like I said before, all feedback on ANYTHING is great! Really, if you think it's awful or you really don't like a certain part of the story, let me know and I'll try to improve on the next chapter.
REVIEW AND FEED THE DRAGON!
