Alright, you guys rock but you already know that. I'm sorry I didn't answer any of the reviews O_o but I thought that posting a new chapter would be seen as a reply too ;)
This chapter was kind of hard to write. I hope you folks like it.
-SPN-
Sam was still trying to get loose. So far he hadn't been successful. He only managed to chafe his wrists badly. He could feel the blood seeping from the wounds. There were still tears rolling down his cheeks. He was hungry and feeling miserable. He slept for a few hours? It was hard to tell time. He looked around the room but it was so dimly lit that he could hardly make out the walls. On occasion his kidnapper would stand in the doorway. Just standing and not doing anything. It scared the crap out of Sam. Because he couldn't hear anything, everything was more intense. His eyes would dart from left to right. Straining to hear anything but it didn't work. The earmuffs were too tight. He needed to see Dean. Would they be out there looking for him? Things hadn't been the best between him and his father. Sam hated this life. Not having a home. Friends. Stability. He shook his head. Dean tried to give him all these things but it wasn't enough. Sam longed to be a normal teenager. Not having to watch his back whenever he left the dump they'd be staying at. Or pour salt in front of every window and door. Not knowing what lurks in the dark. But he'd take it over anything right now if it meant that he'd be safe with his brother.
"DEAN! DEAN!" He screamed his brother's name for the umpteenth time. His voice was hoarse and he coughed. He knew that even if Dean was here he wouldn't be able to hear his brother. But he just knew that Dean wasn't here. Usually when Dean was around he could feel it. He had never felt more alone than these few hours, days? He was in a basement or something. No windows. No clock. Nothing. Just Sam and a 40 watt bulb.
"DAD! DAD!" Sam's voice eventually gave out. He tried to yell again but only a soft whisper came out. Not that he could hear it anyway. But his throat did hurt every time he yelled. His lips were dry and chapped. He knew he was dehydrated. He wasn't particularly cold but he wasn't warm either. Unconsciously he shivered.
He had no sense of time whatsoever. He tried pulling on the cuffs again but no luck. He hissed at the pain he felt. He was getting anxious without his hearing. He tried to displace the earmuffs with his shoulders but the muffs were pretty tight. So he abandoned that and tried pulling on the cuffs again. Then he would resort to yelling for Dean again and then for his dad only to fall asleep from pure exhaustion and hunger. When he would wake up the cycle started again. He also had this annoying cough which was also taking its toll on his voice and hindered him in everything. Sometimes he would just talk to himself, out loud. Despite not being to hear anything it did bring some form of solace. He had no idea why he was being kept here. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes. He nodded off again, silently praying that when he woke up Dean or his Dad would be there.
-SPN-
John entered the building. He kept an eye out for booby traps and explosives. So far he detected a booby trap near the entrance and he saw the explosives. C4. The bastard wasn't kidding around when he said that the place was rigged. He disarmed the booby trap but didn't dare touch the explosives. It was a large space and John had no idea where to look for Sam. He figured he may as well start at the top and work his way down. He carefully walked the stairs, nearly missing the tripwire. In a split second he saw it and quickly pulled his foot back. He disarmed the booby trap and continued his search for his youngest. He reached the first floor and debated whether to go to the third and start there yet he had this feeling so he started here. The first two rooms were empty. The rooms were bare and dusty. It hadn't been used in a long time. He spotted a room that had security on it and he pushed it open. There were a bunch of monitors and one was trained on Sam. John's heart skipped a beat. His son looked so young and exhausted. John noticed the earmuffs. He could see Sam's mouth moving. He appeared to be talking to himself. Then he started tugging on the chains and Sam's mouth moved again only this time John could distinguish one word Sam was saying, or better yet one name. Dean. He kept his eyes on the monitor. He recognized another word, dad. John wanted to get his son but he had no idea in what room Sam was being held. The monitor said 37A, but John had no idea where 37A was. He tore his gaze away from the monitor and looked for a lay-out of the building. He finally found a lay-out.
"37J, 37F, 37A. Alright let's see. Basement." John took the lay-out with him and quickly went back the way he came. When he reached the basement he pulled out his flashlight. The hallway was poorly lit. When he was half way there were no lights at all. John walked very slowly. Afraid to run into another booby trap. After what seemed an eternity he finally reached 37A. He carefully inspected the door. No signs of booby traps or explosives. He took a deep breath and gently opened the door. It was pitch black inside except for where Sam was sitting. A poor 40 Watt bulb hung near Sam.
"Sam." John hurried towards his son. He had no idea how to handle this. He took a step forward. He could see the tear stains on Sam's face. He could also see the split lip and bruising on Sam's cheek. I'm going to kill him, John thought yet again. He took another step forward hoping that Sam would open his eyes. He looked frail and exhausted. John's heart broke into pieces but he had to refrain himself from acting irrational. So he took another step forward and Sam started to stir.
Sam had no idea what happened. He had just nodded off when he felt the energy in the room shift. It felt familiar but Sam didn't dare open his eyes. He tried to make his other senses work for him but without his hearing there wasn't much he could but open his eyes. But he was scared. Scared that it was his kidnapper. Never show them fear, Sammy. Sam could hear Dean's voice in his head. Decision made. He moved his head and slowly opened his eyes.
-SPN-
Back at the hospital
They had taken out the breathing tube after John left. Dean had been fighting it and they didn't want to sedate him more than they had to. Not with the head injury. His oxygen levels were fluctuating a bit so they had him on an oxygen mask. Dean was in a world of pain when he woke again. Or actually it was the pain that woke him. He couldn't breathe without hurting. He moaned at the pain and was looking around for his father or Sam. His memory was foggy and he had trouble coming up with an explanation as to why he was in the hospital. Or alone for that matter.
"S'm. Da?" His voice was hoarse and raspy, throat sore and he winced at the pain. He pulled the mask of his face and tried to get up but stilled his movement as a sharp pain shot through his ribs. He groaned. Where were Sam and dad? He slowly tried to get up and after a few tries he finally managed. He was panting and sweating but he was determined to find out where his father and Sam were. He managed to get rid of the blanket and hung his legs over the bed. He got his feet on the ground. He slowly straightened to the best he could, moaning and groaning from the pain. His breathing was harsh and it felt like he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. His chest felt tight. He was sweating and trembling. And his whole body was objecting the fact that he was upright. Head swimming and throbbing like a bitch. He took a step forward and both his legs gave way. He collapsed on the floor and had the wind knocked out of him. He managed to rip out his IV and the leads of the heart monitor, which set off the alarm. He lay on the floor desperately trying to get some oxygen in his lungs but it was no use. The harder he tried, the more difficult it became. His lips already blue from the lack of oxygen. His vision was graying 'round the edges and the last thing before he saw before he passed out were shoes.
-SPN-
Abandoned warehouse
John was still standing in front of Sam. He was stirring and could see his eyelids move. Slowly Sam opened his eyes. John held his breath, afraid of what Sam's reaction was going to be. John saw the recognition in Sam's eyes.
"Dad. Please help me." Sam hoarsely said. Sam sounded even younger than the fourteen years he was and it spurred John directly into action. He removed the earmuffs from Sam's head.
"It's okay Sammy. I've got you." John whispered. Sam was crying and tugging at the chains.
"Easy Sammy. I'm going to get you out of here. Just give me a sec." John purposely kept his voice low and his tone even. He had a hard time getting Sam out of the cuffs. The cuffs were slick with Sam's blood. For a minute he was thinking about shooting them but the risk was too big. After a while he finally managed to get Sam out of the cuffs. He had seen the chafing and blood on Sam's wrist and every time his blood pressure spiked again and he wanted to kill him.
Sam launched himself at his father the second he was loose.
"Shh, you're okay. It's okay." Sam was trembling. They sat there for a few minutes. John kept muttering comforting words and stroking his sons back in a soothing matter.
"Dad." Sam's voice was hoarse and he couldn't stop the tears from falling from his eyes.
"You ready to get out of here?" John asked and Sam nodded. Sam let go of his father and John stood up. Sam hissed at the soreness in his muscles. He actually had to hold on to his father to prevent him from falling to the floor.
"Sammy?"
"S'fine. Just sore." Sam said around a cough. John nodded. He would be happy if they got Sam to the hospital. His son looked pale, had a nasty cough and John wondered if Sam had anything to drink or eat. They slowly walked out of the room. Sam looked a bit unsteady on his feet and John kept an arm around his waist. He knew that he wouldn't be able to do that once they got to the stairs. Sam would have to climb them by himself and John wondered if his son would be able to. When they finally reached the stairs he had to let go of Sam.
"I need you stay behind me, okay?" Sam nodded and winced. He had a headache and he was cold. He coughed and the headache intensified. He groaned. He was dizzy and had to steady himself by holding on to the wall.
"Where's Dean?" Sam asked. John winced at the sound of Sam's voice. It was hoarse and it had to hurt.
"Dean is going to be fine." It took a while for Sam to register what his father said. Sam took a step up the stairs and collapsed. His legs just gave out and his eyes rolled in back into his skull. John heard the crash and spun around.
"Sammy! Dammit. Come on Sam." John tried to rouse his son but it was no use. His son was out for the count. John picked up his son and carried him up the stairs. He grunted under the weight of his youngest, arm throbbing, bleeding and burning. His son had finally lost all of his baby fat but what he got in return was muscles. "Suck it up marine." John said to himself as he pushed himself further with Sam in his arms. He hadn't dare to carry Sam fireman-style so he carried him bridal style, though it took some maneuvering with the booby traps and the stairs but John wasn't giving up. He pushed on, carrying his son to safety.
-SPN-
I hope you guys liked this chapter. It's not my favorite but it was the best I could do. I must've rewritten it a thousand times ):
Please leave a review in regards to this chapter.