Love Lies Bleeding

Dean watched as she left the room, annoyed with himself at having fallen so easily, not once stopping to question his feelings as he had left with her from the bar. He was tired, he was worried about Sam and he had lost his edge, had done the one thing he never did, he let his guard slip and landed them both in trouble.

Dean sat and though about what he would have done if he had had to watch someone do what Sam, no Meg he mentally corrected himself, had done to either of his family. Sam had been possessed but there was no way to prove that to her and she really didn't strike Dean as the listening type.

He knew that if someone had hurt his family, especially what Sam/Meg had done, he would have ripped them apart, hunted them down and destroyed them and he knew that that was precisely what Grace intended to do. Hell, hadn't he spent the last few months obsessing over the yellow eyed demon, his only desire now to kill it for what it had done to his parents, his family, what it might do to Sam? Yep, Grace was going to kill him, them, because that is what he would do in her situation, but he was damn if he was going out on his knees.

He tried to struggle to his feet, but his legs were dead from having sat so long in the one position and he couldn't push back far enough to get up without tearing up his other shoulder. Defeated for the moment he sank down, his mind racing for another out, the adrenaline pushing back his pain for now. He tried his hands in the cuffs, ignoring the pain that shot down his arm from his injured hand every time he moved it. There was a little bit of give and he pulled, feeling his hand slip a little further into the metal. She had, of course, had to stab the hand on his good shoulder so no matter which he moved the pain was intense but he didn't care, just kept twisting his wrists, slicing them with the serrated edge on the cuffs, pulling hard. He felt his right hand, which was slick with his own blood, slip again and renewed his effort to rip his hand through, but it wouldn't come, the last bit of strength and luck needed to be free evaded him. He closed his eyes just as the door to the room opened.

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

Grace walked back into the room to get Sam, chaining his ankles she opened the D-ring on the wall and let his hands drop free in the cuffs. "Try anything and I will kill you and your brother." He felt the blade dig into his ribs.

"Like you don't intend to anyways? Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

"Sorry, I'm so forgetful; revenge doesn't really work if you don't know why, does it? I haven't even told you my full name, where are my manners?" She dug him in the side with the knife hard enough to draw blood.

"My name's Wandel, Grace Wandel. I believe you met my father once?"

She watched the horrified look cross Sam's face.

"See, there you go, I knew you'd remember! Kinda a hard thing to forget, no? Now move!"

She pushed him through the door at the back of the room, forcing him against the wall. "Now sit!" She pulled his hands up and secured him to the wall again. Looking over Sam saw Dean chained to the far wall, his hands pulled cruelly backwards and up above his head, blood running down his right arm and from both wrists.

Dean heard the clank of metal, but was unable to lift his head far enough to see what was happening; there was a muffled sound and then he heard his brother's voice.

"Dean!"

"Sammy, you ok?"

"Yeah." Sam shook his head at the state his brother was in and yet his first thought was still to check if he was ok.

Grace checked Sam was secure and then tutted as she walked toward Dean. "If you wanted free Dean you only had to ask."

She grabbed his hands and turned them, the move designed to hurt as well as let her look at them.

"Dean, Dean." She scolded him. "What have you done to your hands? Look at the mess you've made. They really need some attention, would you like me to look at them for you?"

"No thanks, I'm good."

She walked over to the table in the room next to where Dean was sitting and put the knife she was carrying down. Taking various bottles she looked at the labels until she found what she was looking for.

"Dean, are you alright?" Sam's voice was full of concern so Dean knew that he must look as bad as he felt.

"Awesome, Sammy. Having the time of my life."

"Sorry to interrupt, but I think these wounds need cleaned. Wouldn't want you to die of infection now would we." She took the bottle and grabbed Dean's right hand, holding it out palm up. Dean screamed the minute the liquid touched him; the liquid pooled into the hole in his hand and then slowly worked its way down, deep into the wound. She ran the rest of the bottle down onto the wounds on his wrists and Sam had to look away as his brother squirmed and tried to pull his hands away from her. When Sam looked back Dean had passed out, the pain finally too much for his body to cope with, he'd shut down.

Grace put the bottle down and picked the keys up from the table, checking he was out, she unlock Dean's wrists and then she pulled him out flat on the floor, all the time Sam screaming at her to leave him alone. She smiled over at him and then re-cuffed Dean's right hand and pulled him up to a sitting position cuffing him back to the D-ring on the wall, his left arm hanging free at his side. She put the keys down and then picked up the knife and placed it down next to Dean.

"Please, please don't do this, it's me you want not him, just let him go. I'm sorry, I'll do anything you want me to; please just leave him out of it."

"Now where's the fun in that Sam. How can I torment your every waking thought with images of your brother dying bloody if he doesn't die? I don't want you dead Sam, I want you hurting."

"I was possessed."

"So you both keep saying, but tell me was Dean possessed too? Did he even know you were possessed?"

"Sorry?" Grace could see the confusion on Sam's face.

"When you came back to the house to clear up your little mess and leave my father's bloody body lying on the floor for me to find, was your brother possessed too? It's an easy question, yes or no?"

"No, but I mean….." She cut him off.

"I understand you not turning yourself in, I do really, I understand your brother wanting to cover up what you had done, but it was over a week before I came home Sam, I'd been away and he was supposed to have been on a hunt. When I found him he'd been lying there all that time. Do you now how bad a dead body smells after a week in a warm house, how bad it looks? You could have called someone, anyone and got him found but you didn't."

Sam went to speak but he didn't know what to say. She looked him at him, and he found that he couldn't look her in the eye, had to turn away.

"So why did you both just leave him there, on the floor, like some worthless piece of meat? Tell me, huh, why? You left him there to rot, for me to find, and I see that picture every night in my head when I go to sleep. I hate you for murdering my father but I hate your brother just as much for not caring enough to make that call. My father deserved a little respect don't you think? " She turned away from him and he knew that she was crying.

Sam realised that Dean had been so pre-occupied with trying to figure out what was wrong with him that he'd never given the dead hunter a second thought, his only goal to stop someone discovering that it had been Sam that had done this.

"Dean panicked, he didn't think, please….I'm…..."

She turned on him. "I swear to god if you say your sorry to me I'll kill you were you sit." She pointed the gun straight at his head and flicked the safety. Sam dropped his head.

"Go ahead, I deserve it."

"Nice try, Sam Winchester but you're not getting off that easy." She put the gun on the table and pick up a small tube.

"Time to wake up sleeping beauty, don't you think?" She walked over to Dean and waved the open tube under his nose.

"Rise and shine, sleepy head. Time to die."