CHAPTER 4

Dean struggled to open his eyes. They felt so heavy, like he had weights attached to them, forcing them closed. His body felt numb. Too numb, this can't be good.

"DEAN!" Sam shouted louder than he meant to in the silent room.

"shhhhhh." Dean managed to make something audible. He had other words he was trying to say before that, and after, but they didn't seem to want to come out.

He closed his eyes back, against the pain that shot through his head, gently lifting an arm he could barely feel and putting his hand on his forehead, willing the ache in his head to go away.

"Sorry." Sam whispered in a bashful tone.

"Hey there, Ace."

Dean slowly opened his eyes again, allowing his eye sight to adjust. "Dad?"

"Yeah, Buddy, it's me." John said with a smile.

Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes. Dean always had such faith in their dad. He always depended on him, always expected him to be his savior when he needed one. But, Sam didn't have that same kind of faith. He had felt hopeless, he was sure they were going to die in that place.

How Dad managed to find them, Sam would never understand. Hell, he didn't even know how he even knew they were in danger. But, then again, he hasn't exactly asked, his mind was preoccupied with pushing away the waking nightmares and worrying about his brother. Yeah, Dean had faith in a man that Sam would always hold a grudge against, but then, then there were times like this.

Sam worried. Oh god, he was worried. He didn't even know if his brother was still breathing. He hadn't moved in so long. He just laid there, in a heap on the floor. Broken. He was so broken, his mind was already shattered, and his body wasn't far behind, unless this, this last violation had completely finished breaking his body too.

There was no way he would be able to live without his brother. No way. The man might as well put a bullet in his head when he was finished with Dean.

The man. Sam wasn't sure of the time, or the day, or anything, really, but he was sure that he had been gone longer than before. He expected him to come back already. To start his crap with Dean, see how far he could push him this time, but, he never came back.

Maybe this was a test? Another form of torture? See how long they could handle the solitude of this place. Hell, it was already driving both of them crazy. Sam was sure, a day of silence, and he would lose it, just like Dean had.

At that moment, he almost felt envy. Dean was unconscious, sure it was because of pain, but at least his mind wasn't having to work overtime, trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and how to get out of it. But, then again, it wasn't exactly like Dean was in any shape to get out of here on his own, and Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to have the strength to help him out. I mean, he wasn't even sure where 'here' was.

That was weird. Something caught Sam's attention. He wanted so badly to wake Dean, but he couldn't, he was gagged. He couldn't yell, or call for his brother. But, something definitely caught his attention. Something that was different. It hadn't been the normal sounds and routines he was used to.

There was some rattling at the door, like someone was trying to force it opened, but couldn't figure out how. Maybe it was a locking mechanism that kept it locked up. But, Sam couldn't miss a chance that maybe, somehow, someone was trying to save them. He let out his loudest, best muffled cries that he could manage, pulling against his chains, making them rattle, hoping that someone could hear something.

God, please, he begged. His brother needed help. He had seen slight movements out of Dean a couple times. Enough to give Sam relief that his brother was still holding on. Somehow, he was still fighting.

Between the sounds at the door and Sam's mumbling it pulled Dean out of his darkness, it took him a moment to focus, and looked up into Sam's eyes, seeing the desperation there. He wasn't sure, exactly, but he was pretty sure he knew what his brother wanted.

The understanding, and decoding, of Sam Winchester would always be the last thing to go in Dean's mind. He wasn't able to scream, not like he did before, even in pain, but, damn it, if that's what Sam wanted, then he would try his hardest.

He scooted himself across the floor. He didn't get very far, but the closer he could get to the door the better. He started with letting out some muffled groans of pain, that he tried to raise to a higher level, but that only seemed to last for a minute, scooting himself, painfully, closer to the door, he grabbed the metal rod that was in the fireplace.

The noises at the door stopped, and Dean took every ounce of energy he could muster up and launched the rod at the door, striking it with a loud thud as it crashed against the metal door and fell to the floor.

It was enough to get the attention of the people on the other side and they continued trying to open the thick, heavy door. Dean finished making his way to the door, placing the palm of his hand against it.

"Dad." He whispered, barely audible.

Sam's heart sunk, there was no way it was Dad, the man didn't even know where they were.

"Dad… Please." Dean said a little louder, his eyes filling with a few tears for the first time since all of this started. It had to be Dad. It had to be.

Sam didn't have the heart, even if he was able to talk, he wouldn't have been able to break his brother's hope.

Dean's hand slid down the door and his head rested against it. It was almost more than the boy could handle. He had used all his strength to make his way to the door.

He closed his eyes, letting the whole thing sink in, realizing, once the man was in the room, there had to be a way he left, even if Dean was unconscious every time, he still had to leave. Right? Right.

He forced himself one last task, he reached up, adjusting his body, fighting through the pain, and unlatched a latch above the handle, trying in vein to open the knob. Damn it. He tried. It didn't work.

He looked up the door, seeing another slide, just out of reach. He grabbed the door handle, bringing himself to shaky knees. Reaching as far as he could, it was still just out of reach. It seemed, when the doors closed, the latches locked from the inside. Dean figured they needed keys to open them from the outside.

He forced himself on shaky legs. He only needed a few more inches, so he didn't dare try to stand up straight, it would only give him further to fall. With shaky hands, he pulled the latch opened, falling backwards against the force of the door opening.

Instantly Bobby was at Dean's side. "Ssssammmmyyyyy." Dean mumbled out, Bobby looked up, nodded his head, and made his way to the youngest Winchester. John was at Dean's side.

"Dad!" Sam was shocked to see his dad.

"Get an ambulance, now!" John ordered, without even acknowledging Sam's response.

Sam was shaky, not at all able to walk on his own. He had been chained to a wall for who knows how long, and he was sure his legs had forgotten how to work.

"You okay, Sammy?" John said immediately turning his attention to his youngest son, quickly looking over him for injuries, noticing he was still fully dressed.

John had removed his jacket, laying it carefully over Dean's body.

Sam pushed John's hands away. "I'm fine, just some injuries from those damn chains and gag." He said as he tried to rub the soreness out of his wrists.

He looked up at his dad with the most pitiful look John had ever seen. It was mixture between desperation, pleading for help, and fear. "Dean… Dad… He's really bad, Dad, help him, please. Make him better!" Sam was now starting to sound like Dean with his un waiving faith that the man before him could make anything better.

"The ambulance is going to take at least 30 minutes." Bobby announced with his phone pressed against his ear.

"We don't have that kind of time. Tell them to send the damn cops, and we'll drive like hell and get the boys to the damn hospital before the ambulance could ever get here."

Bobby told them, and told them the car they would be in, hoping they wouldn't get pulled over. He stressed the importance of the police to arrive as soon as possible before someone messed with the crime scene.

Bobby helped Sam out to the car. John picked up Dean in his arms and carried the too weak boy and placed him in the back seat with is brother, resting his head on Sam's lap for comfort. John drove, because he was sure he could drive faster, his driving was filled with anger. Bobby sat in the front seat, reminding John they needed to make it there alive.

John squealed tires as he pulled in front of the ER doors, Bobby ran in to get help and John got Dean and Sam out of the car. Before he had finished, there was a wheelchair ready for Sam and bed ready for Dean. Both boys were rushed away, leaving John and Bobby standing alone, in shock.

Time seemed to click by slowly, 2 pots of coffee gone and finally a doctor entered the room.

"Mr. John Wheeler?"

"Yes, that's me!"

"Hi, I'm Dr. Bowie, I'm your son, Sam's doctor."

John shook his hand, but had no interest in the small talk.

"I'll get right to it. He seems to be okay. He's dehydrated, and malnourished. He's got some injuries to his wrists and ankles where he says he had chains wrapped around him, they cut into his skin, pretty deep in some places. He needed a few stitches in a couple places. His face is bruised and so is his left side, the only thing we've seen is two broken ribs on that side, causing the bruising."

Seeing the impatience rising in John's eyes the doctor continued. "He's awake, but completely exhausted, as to be expected. He's not really talking about what happened. I'm sure, judging by the injuries of your other son, it wasn't easy on either of them. Honestly, I'm concerned about his mental health more than physical, but he doesn't seem to be the type who would accept that, so I would like to keep him over night, under observation and for pain management. He also needs some fluids and antibiotics, to be on the safe side."

John sighed and nodded his head, knowing they would be staying with Dean anyhow.

"Look, he's already been asking about his brother, and fighting us to see him. But, he needs sleep. He needs to take care of himself, so, with your permission, I'd like to not only give him some pain meds to help with his aching body and injuries, but I'd also like to give him some medication to help him sleep."

The doctor sighed, knowing the exhaustion would eventually win out. "To keep him asleep, so he can get some actual good, restful sleep. The thing with this medication is, it will completely knock him out, and most of the time, depending on the situation, it keeps nightmares away, but even if it doesn't, when he wakes, he won't remember it. So, it's really going to be our best option for him right now, I think."

John agreed, he knew Sam would fight till the end to be with his brother, but that wasn't even possible right now. His oldest son was in surgery. He wasn't clear on the exact injuries. Hell, the doctors weren't even sure what they would run into, but they knew he had internal injuries. Both, from the beatings and the violent rape.

The scans showed some bleeding in the abdominal area, which could be from a number of different things, the problem was, his internal organs were so swollen it made it difficult to see what they were dealing with, until they were able to cut him opened and investigate his injuries.

John sat in a chair, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His mind was a blur. He was in shock. Not the kind of shock his boys were in, but still, his brain wouldn't function properly and it drifted back to the day before.

He wasn't sure how or why, but he felt there was something wrong. He just had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tried to call Dean's cell, both of them, but didn't get an answer, then he attempted Sam's. The same, no answer.

Normally he would send them texts of locations he wanted them to investigate. They would never text back, couldn't because he had his cell blocked. But, the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach deepened when he didn't get an answer from either of his boys.

He traced their phones. It wasn't difficult because they were trained, unless they need to keep hidden, you always keep your location setting turned on. At the very least, it would give the last known location, before the phone was shattered or thrown out by the bad guy.

A quick call to Bobby, and a full tank of gas had John heading in the direction of his boys' last known location. He prayed he was wrong. Prayed they were just busy, unable to answer. He had even unblocked his phone, hoping they would try to call back.

John had picked up his phone again, no answer from either of them. Dean's main phone and Sam's phone went straight to voicemail. They didn't show active when he looked them up, but Dean's spare phone was still active.

After several rings the only thing John received was voicemail. The last known location of the boys' phones and the one that was still active where in the same general location.

John figured, Dean's spare phone was in his car, and they had walked away from the car, probably on some type of hunt, where their phones were destroyed, for some unknown reason. He was grateful the boys' location wasn't far from Bobby's. It would mean the older hunter would already be on the case by the time he got there.

It didn't take long for Bobby to find the boys' motel room and pick the lock. Their pattern was predictable. To most, it would seem unorganized and sporadic, but John had taught them that, so it was easy for them to find each other. He sent John a text with the room location and quickly started going through the research papers in the room.

By the time John arrived, Bobby had already figured out the hunt and location where the boys had gone. They both, just like Dean, had a bad feeling about this hunt.

Carefully, they made their way to the location. John spotted the half dug grave and found a device that would have sprayed a fog of… something… probably something to knock his boys out, a drug of type… when struck. It had obviously been struck.

He sighed, his boys didn't even have a chance. Probably, didn't even know what hit them. He was, however, relieved to find there was no blood anywhere. That was a good sign, at least his boys were still alive when they were taken.

"Hey, John." Bobby whispered, getting the oldest Winchester's attention.

John walked over to see what Bobby had spotted and his heart jumped with hope.

"Breadcrumbs!" John whispered back.

What no one, but Sam, knew was when he went looking for his brother, following where the unknown man had taken him, he left a trail. It wasn't an obvious one. But, it was one a hunter would notice. It was one that he would be able to follow back, and god forbid if something happened to him, Dean would notice it and know his way out of where ever the hell it took them.

John and Bobby, armed with every weapon they could think of needing, followed the trail his youngest son had made. It brought them to a clearing in the woods. They kept hidden, scoping out the area. This is where the trail stopped. They weren't sure if it stopped because the person who made it was captured, or if this was were his boys were at.

After scoping out the area, John found another device that was the same as in the grave, it had been set off by a trip wire. Pointing down at it, Bobby understood. They carefully looked for any signs of wires or traps. The best John could figure, one son was taken at the grave, followed by the other, who was taken after setting off the device with the trip wire.

They sat there, hidden, watching, waiting. Suddenly, in the morning light, a man appeared, opening a hidden door in the ground and climbing down the steps beneath it. The men waited, making sure no one else would come. Once they were sure the coast was clear, they made their way down the steps, into an underground, hidden hell.

No, no, his boys could not be here, they just couldn't. He could smell the old copper from rotten blood, and the smell of death mixed with urine, sweat, and the smell of sex. His stomach turned as he tried to hold down the vomit that threatened to rise from the sight, and smell.

His head swam with the thought of his boys in this place. He was sure, somewhere, there were dead, decaying bodies, probably those of the missing hunters he had read about in the boys' research.

"Oh, god, Bobby!" John whispered with despair in his voice.

Not knowing where the man had gone, the men found a place to hide that gave them a full view of the area, and they waited.