Te Deum: Chapter 4

Arriving back at the house, Dean and Art got out some med supplies and laid them on the table. Art began working on making up a new batch of holy water and Dean found himself trying to come up with something to eat. Most of what they had was canned soups and the like. He got out a large pot and set it up on a portable burner. Art had given him the job. Dean was just dumping in the last can when Andrew and Jonathan walked through the door supporting Sam on either side. They took him upstairs with Ellie trailing behind. Minutes later Jonathan came back down.

"Bodies are already wrapped, they're in the back of the van. We'll take them out tomorrow. Art is doing some last rite stuff to help make sure we don't have to deal with any future problems."

Art nodded at Jonathan's words. Dean stirred the soup and then headed to fetch some bowls which were kept in a plastic bin. A scream from the upper room made him stop. It was Sam's scream, a sound that he would know anywhere. Trying not to act affected, he brought seven bowls and spoons to the counter where the burner had been set up. He began ladling soup into the bowls when another scream sounded out, followed by a few quieter ones.

"Having his way with him I suppose." Jonathan said conversationally.

Dean looked sharply over at him. Jonathan smiled at the alarmed look on his face.

"Oh, don't worry, he's not fucking the thing. Just making sure it knows it messed up. Pain is a very good lesson."

"Yeah" Dean replied, eyes glancing up at the ceiling when another tormented cry sounded out. This was pure torture. Dean kept his hands from shaking but finally after ten minutes he couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing his own bowl of food along with another he headed outside mumbling something about getting food to Hub. Outside the sounds lessened until they faded out. Dean cursed himself for his weakness, he'd never been able to stand the sound of Sam in pain.

Dean saw Hub by the van's backdoor, his back to Dean as he did something that probably had to do with the last rites Art had mentioned. Dean came up behind him and saw the bodies which were wrapped in white sheets per hunter tradition. A small bible was in Hub's hand and a rosary was dangling over the forms held by Hub's other hand.

Hub spared Dean a glance and a short pause in his latin chant before continuing on. Dean set the bowl on the bumper and slouched against the van to watch Hub. Several minutes passed before he finished. Hub picked up the bowl and without a thought to the dead bodies began eating.

"So you and Art are-?"

Dean let the question out casually. Hub and Art were both older men, both in their 50's but both still physically fit. Quite old for hunters, at their age to still be alive and to still be hunting was nearly unheard of.

"We're friends, best friends. Known each other since birth, both found out about the supernatural together and stuck together since then."

Dean nodded, eyes wandering to the bodies. Despite wanting to have killed the men himself, their deaths would make it that much easier to save Sam.

"And yourself? Information is pricey, gotta share tit for tat."

Dean looked up at Hub prepared to lie. Taking in the weathered and intelligent look on the man's face he decided against lying, or at least decided to tell as much of the truth as possible.

"Mom got killed by a demon, my dad took me and my brother hunting after that. Been doing it ever since."

"And your brother?"

Dean's jaw tightened as he thought back on all that had happened in the last two years.

"It got to him, he didn't make it. Lost him about a year ago."

It was a sort of truth, but it didn't matter because the emotion on Dean's face of grief, regret, guilt and pain was enough truth to make Hub believe him. Hub just looked down into his soup bowl.

"Ghouls, they got our wives and kids."

Andrew didn't leave the room for over an hour. After dinner and a healthy dealing out of whiskey everyone retired, each taking three hour turns watching over the monster. Dean spent his three hours watching his brother detox while inspecting the damage done, Sam completely oblivious to the world outside of his pain and whatever he was hallucinating, didn't notice Dean. Sam came out of his encounter with Andrew with a broken rib, three less finger nails, burns on his arms and a lot more bruising. Dean felt the usual feeling of sickness well up in him and stay with him for the rest of the night. By morning everyone was up and Art was dealing out oatmeal that had been made in the pot. Everyone took turns with food duty.

Everyone gathered in the living room where the table had been set and was either seated at it or standing somewhere else.

"We're gonna do the burial today. Someone will stay with it while we're away. I was going to ask Dean since he knew Donald and Jason the shortest amount of time."

Dean nodded his assent and made sure to not show the burst of hope and excitement he felt at hearing that he was going to be left alone with Sam. The sheer luck of it astounded him. No one else commented on it or raised objections so Andrew said nothing more.

Within a few hours, around 10am, they took off; Hub and Art in the Pontiac and the rest in the white van. Dean waited ten then twenty minutes before he broke out into action. Heading up the stairs he entered the room. Sam was shackled for extra protection and was delirious at this point. Dean fiddled with the cuffs, the key had been taken with them in the coat pocket of Art. Never too much to be safe. Dean spent the next twenty minutes picking the locks. They were old and archaic things, Dean was half tempted to just find a way to cut through them. Once the cuffs were off he looped Sam's arm around his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist.

Sam halfheartedly attempted to assist Dean in moving him. Dean guessed it was habit since at the times when Sam dragged too much or weighed down too much with the others he'd seen Andrew or another kick or hurt Sam to get him moving. They made slow progress from the room and down the stairs, Dean keeping up a steady flow of encouragement. Sam's eyes were glazed over and faraway, Dean doubted his brother was even aware of what was going on.

Dean nearly cried with relief when they made it to the ground floor. They made it several steps when Art stepped into the room. Dean felt his heart drop out of him, face paling. Art froze when he saw Dean with Sam wrapped around him, shackles gone. A moment passed and a gun was leveled at Dean by a steady and experienced hand.

"You know, I was half expecting this."

Dean frowned in confusion.

"I knew you were a Winchester boy moment I saw ya. I would recognize that car of yours anywhere. I've hunted with your father enough to know it when I see it."

Dean's confusion spread, the man had known who he was and done nothing to intervene.

"I knew he was your brother too, just thought you knew what he was as well as the rest of us. Hub never recognized ya, just me. I didn't tell anyone. I figured you were a hunter just like your father, I thought you would know better."

Dean shifted as Sam's weight started to fall against him more, Sam was running out of energy and soon he wouldn't be able to stand, let alone help Dean out of this mess.

"Guess I was wrong though, it has been twenty years since I last saw you and your family. I heard things of course, so you can imagine my surprise when I saw you turn up after I heard about Dean Winchester's plunge into the fiery pits. I figured you brother sold something that made him human to get you out."

Dean couldn't help to think how wrong yet right that was. Sam may not have gotten him out but he'd sold everything to demon blood and revenge in the aftermath.

"Doesn't matter though. What you're going to do now is step away from your brother and sit down in the kitchen chair, you'll keep your hands on your head or else I'll shoot your brother."

Dean nodded his understanding and took slow steps away from Sam and settled himself in a kitchen chair keeping both hands on top of his head.

Art slowly moved towards the table where some rope was that had been left over from wrapping the bodies. Moving towards Dean he tied him up. Dean felt a sense of hopelessness sink in as Art stepped away from him.

"Now that wasn't so-"

He was cut off as Andrew stepped through the door along with Jonathan. In the tense stand off between the two they hadn't heard the sound of the car pulling up. In an instant Andrew had his gun out and pointed at Art. Surprised, Art pointed his gun towards Andrew.

"That's why you left early, why you asked for the key for today, you never do that."

Dean again can't believe the insane luck of the situation. For all appearances it looked as if Art had intended to get away with Sam while having gotten the drop on Dean.

Art was too shocked by the turn of events to reply.

"Makes sense why you never hit the thing, wouldn't touch it, you did that to get its trust, didn't you?"

Ellie and Hub walked into the room. Hub stared between the two guns for a moment.

"What the hell? Why're you pointing a gun at Art?" his hand was already starting to move towards his own weapon.

Jonathan pulled out his own gun and leveled it at Hub before the man could withdraw his own gun.

"Don't do that." Jonathan said calmly.

"I bet you freaking waited until you had it's trust, till you could make it do things. Make it do what it did last night."

There was a cold silence as the implication of the accusation settled. Andrew was accusing Art of causing the death of the two hunters.

"I didn't kill those two."

Andrew smiled at Art's denial. The next second he pulled the trigger and Art collapsed to the ground dead. Hub screamed, rushing at Andrew. Jonathan's gun went off and the floor was littered with another body. Moments passed and then Sam collapsed, his exhaustion and pain finally making him succumb to unconsciousness. Andrew paused a moment.

"Ellie, untie Dean and you two take care of the bodies. Me and Jonathan will deal with it."

Ellie came over to Dean and began untying him, wide eyes watching him. Dean was pale and shaky, thrown by the completely merciless and exact actions of Andrew. He didn't think he'd ever meet someone as evil as a demon but the man was proving to be insane and ruthless. Dean helped Ellie drag the bodies outside and light them up in the dirt. As soon as they were done they headed back inside where Andrew was packing the things up.

"Jonathan is in the van with it. We get packed up and we leave now."

They didn't argue and within a half an hour everything was packed and the Pontiac picked clean. Dean drove his baby while Ellie and Andrew were in the white van, the mini van was taken by Jonathan. The drove, heading north and going towards West Virginia. Stopping only a few times they followed the white van to another house on the outskirts of Dunbar. The transfer of items into the house was quiet and tense.

"I'm going to go out and pick up supplies." With those last words, Andrew left.

Some of the tension seemed to slip out of the room with the sound of the car pulling away. The entire day had been fraught with stress and Dean felt as if every nerve was on end. He couldn't imagine how Ellie was feeling, four people she knew had just been killed in the last day. He eyed her from where she was seated at the table cleaning a gun. Jonathan had been in a back room with Sam, now he was staring unabashedly at Dean.

Dean resisted the urge to shudder and continued sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee. There were only three people and Dean had dealt with situations a lot worse than this. The picture of Sam and his broken body rose to his mind and he felt reluctance filling him. If he couldn't guarantee that he could get Sam out then there was no point. But only two were here. If he took Ellie out and killed Jonathan, he would be able to get Sam out. He could try using Ellie as a hostage. The thought was immediately dispelled as he recalled how easily Johnathan had pulled the trigger and killed Hub.

Dean had tried calling Castiel but the angel hadn't answered, the angel hadn't even called back. Dean had been hinging part of his getting Sam out on the angel's appearance. With Cas not even communicating with him he was hard pressed to think of what else to do. Dean shuddered as he felt the back of his neck prickle.

Dean glanced up to see Jonathan still staring. He raised a brow. Jonathan continued staring.

"I don't swing that way."

It was ill humor and sounded out of place after everything that had just happened. Jonathan just smiled.

"That's good. Andrew doesn't have much patience for that kind."

Jonathan was still staring and Dean was getting unnerved by it.

"We don't know much about you Billy."

Dean smiled tersely, thinking about how he could incapacitate Jonathan without having Ellie blow his head off. The woman may be more human than the rest but she was still just as willing to use her gun if he proved to be a threat and Dean had no doubt that Ellie wouldn't miss.

"I don't know much about you." Dean retorted smoothly, not batting an eye.

Both stared each other down, Jonathan's gaze reptilian and harsh, Dean's unyielding. The sound of a car pulling up outside drew his attention. Dean cursed silently, what was Andrew doing back so soon? His plan of getting Jonathan alone was crushed and tossed to the wind as Andrew stepped into the room, hair wet and clothes partially soaked. His face was thunderous and his jaw clenched making the stress lines in his face sharpen.

All three were looking at him expectantly, Dean and Ellie with slight trepidation. He didn't say anything to explain himself merely glanced at the three before fixing Dean with a strange look.

"Jonathan, Dean, I need you two upstairs."

Dean got up, body tensing in preparation to act. With only the two upstairs, if they weren't on guard, he could probably take them out. Andrew lead the way and Jonathan lingered, his gaze still never leaving Dean. Dean paused a moment, waiting for Jonathan to go up first but the man didn't move. Prickling with unease Dean moved to follow after Andrew. They moved up the stairs and Dean knew exactly where they were going. They were headed to Sam's room. Andrew opened the door and stepped through followed by Dean and then Jonathan.

Dean saw Jonathan pull out a gun, safety off and in his firing arm. When Dean looked at him he just said

"In case the monster gets out of hand. We don't need to lose anymore people."

Jonathan's gaze was unnerving and Dean was positive that Jonathan didn't believe in what had gone down that morning between Dean and Art. Heart racing Dean tried to keep himself calm. Andrew nodded approvingly to what Jonathan had said before turning to Dean with a smile on his face.

"I figured you would want to help."

Andrew extended a knife to Dean and Dean felt his face blanch despite his best efforts. Andrew noticed and let out an amused laugh.

"Come on Billy, it's just a bit of torture. God knows the thing deserves it."

Dean looked at his brother, something he'd avoided doing since he'd stepped into the room. Sam's head was buried in the blanket and he was shaking. Dean felt himself trembling at the thought of touching his brother with the knife. He surreptitiously glanced back at Jonathan who kept his eyes on Dean, the gun in hand. The man had positioned himself too far away from Dean for him to be able to get to him before he got in a shot.

Andrew was waiting for an answer. Dean's throat was dry as parchment and he barely managed a small weak smile and a head nod. The knife's handle was pressed into his hand and a hand was placed on Dean's shoulder.

Dean could fight, he knew he could. He'd taken on more than just two men. However he usually had someone backing him up, namely Sam. The likely thing would be that both would respond to him attacking and even if he could get one down he would most likely end up injured and then there was Ellie downstairs, the gun would be fired and that woman wouldn't come up unarmed. If Dean died Sam couldn't protect himself and his brother would be stuck here God knows how much longer. Dean cursed silently as he looked down at the knife and began to see it as his only option. Looking over at his brother he wondered if Sam would look up and see him, see his big brother condemning him and hurting him.

Dean's fingers tightened around the knife and he stepped forward, hand reaching out to seize his brother's shirt and yank him forward. Sam's head snapped up and he was staring at Dean, hazel eyes meeting green. Dean almost stopped, he couldn't do this, he couldn't hurt Sam when his brother was looking at him like that as if he was the whole world and more. Stupid bastard shouldn't trust him, shouldn't look at him like he mattered at all.

The only good thing about this, Dean laughed at the thought that any of this was good, was that Dean could be sloppy in the torture. He knew where it hurt the least and he knew he could cut where it would be more difficult to see the scarring. Not that scarring mattered much Dean thought as his eyes traced over the many scars decorating his brother's skin.

Taking the knife Dean slowly dug it into his brother's shoulder. Sam's eyes widened and he looked at his brother fearfully, but he didn't make a sound. Dean tore his eyes from Sam's face and focused on the shoulder and where he was cutting. He could do this, he just had to think of it as someone else. Dean willed his mind to shut out the flop of brown hair just inches away. He dug in a little further, knife carving Sam up more. There was a small whimper of pain and Dean's hand faltered.

He could do this, he could. The blood was bright and he could smell it from how close he was. His stomach turned and he kept pressing, using the knife to mutilate his brother. It went on, minutes that felt like hours. Finally Andrew placed a hand on his shoulder. Dean looked at his brother and saw that Sam had fallen unconscious, his whole right shoulder dripping blood. Sam looked so pale, Dean felt like he was going to vomit.

"That's enough. We don't need him dead." Andrew said with a chuckle and congratulatory pat on Dean's back.

Dean stood, head spinning. He stumbled to the wall and tried taking in deep breaths. Andrew was watching with an amused smile on his face while Jonathan seemed to have relaxed, his face also showing approval.

"First time torturing, huh?"

All Dean could do was nod. They had no idea, the bastards. He watched as Andrew pressed into Sam's shoulder and his brother's mouth flew open in a cry of pain, body writhing under the pressure. Andrew proceeded to wrap Sam's shoulder, any semblance of being careful not present. Sam's eyes were shut tight and he was breathing raggedly. Dean stepped from the room and proceeded to rush to the bathroom where he threw up in the tub. Gasping for breath he felt guilt and shame rush through him. He'd failed in every way, failed his brother.

The days were still threaded together for Sam, a mass of proceedings that seemed to meld together. There were painful days and than the more painful days. The only thing that seemed memorable were the strange new hallucinations with Dean. Dean threading his fingers through Sam's hair like he had done when they were little. Dean setting his head on his lap as if Sam were still his kid brother and needed comfort. They were warm moments of peace Sam couldn't remember experiencing, even before his seemingly perpetual capture. They always felt so much more real than other hallucinations he had before. He could actually still feel the lingering warmth of Dean's hands after the image and left. Sam was so grateful for it, and he wondered if this was Lucifer's new tactic to getting him to break down.

Then Dean had appeared during one of his outings with the hunters. The hallucination so vivid, Dean's shouts sounding so real in his head that Sam had actually wondered and for a little while he'd believed. And then Dean had stepped in the room and taken a knife and started to carve into him. Injuring his shoulder so it matched the other. The real Dean would never do that, so Sam knew he was just hallucinating, losing his mind a little more. Then Andrew had taken over and Sam was absolutely sure that Dean was just a hallucination so he'd clenched his eyes shut and tried to lose himself in memories.

Andrew came out of the room later with Jonathan, both had blood covering their hands. Dean felt sick again. Andrew patted Dean on the shoulder and smiled again. Dean wanted to break the man's jaw so he could never smile again.

"We're going to go on a supply run. You'll be here by yourself. We'll be gone for a while."

Despite everything, Dean felt a bit of hope raise up. His actions in torturing in Sam had seemed to solidify the two men's trust in him. Dean nodded. The key to the manacles was pressed into Dean's hand and both Andrew and Jonathan were walking back down the stairs. Minutes later Dean heard all three step out and the car pull away. It seemed like a miracle, all of them gone and Dean left alone with Sam once again. Rushing from where he was standing, Dean went into the room and bent down next to his brother.

"Sam! Sammy." He gently held his brother's face, tenuous joy breaking across his face desperately.

Sam's eyes flickered open for a second and his mouth turned up in a slight smile.

"Dean." He sighed. Sam tried leaning into his brother, seeking comfort. But Dean pushed him back, needing to get both of them out of there.

Dean let out a stuttering breath and began unchaining his brother.

"We're getting out of here Sammy, we're getting you out."