Disclaimer: haha! I wish...

This chapter is DARK. Not as graphic or anything as some of my other stories, but it's pretty dark. NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH!

Thank you MysteryMadchen for the idea! I hope you like what I've done with it!

This chapter's a bit shorter than the previous, and it's kinda... RANDOM! But this is where it went in my head so...

Enjoy chapter seven!


Two Days Later

They were carrying a crate out to the truck. Dean looked around carefully. They're timing had to be just if this was going to work.

They started to walk back. "You ready?" Dean hissed.

Sam nodded in response.

"Go!" They both ran towards the fence.

The guards started to shout. They waved their guns and ran towards them. They started to close in as Sam and Dean reached the fence. They proceeded to climb over and once they got to the other side, they ran as fast as their tired legs could. They didn't take a break until they reached the safety of the woods.

They were both panting heavily, leaning against each other and a tree.

Dean started to laugh. "We're out... We're out, Sam!"

Sam gave Dean a look. "But not out of the woods yet, Dean."

Dean looked around at all the trees surrounding them. "Great observational skills, dude. Anything else you can come up with?"

Sam huffed. "Smartass."

Dean seemed extremely pleased with himself. "C'mon..."

---

Marc swallowed hard before the irate man.

"Escaped!?" Master Handerson yelled. "How did they escape, Marc?!"

"They were extremely fast," Marc said. "And since you gave orders not to shoot any of the slaves..."

"I've had enough of your excuses! GO! FIND THEM! AND MAKE SURE THEY'RE PROPERLY PUNISHED WHEN YOU DO!"

---

The sounds of barking dogs and shouting men could be heard.

"Shit!" Dean cursed. "C'mon, Sam! Break over!"

"C-can't..."

"What do you mean can't!? Sam, they're going to catch us again if we don't go!"

"My b-back..."

Dean frowned. He looked at Sam's back and saw several of the lashes starting to bleed freely. All the running and jumping must have opened them, the chains on their hands and ankles certainly haven't helped. If they continued, he could bleed to death.

"Shit! And we don't know of any civilization nearby..."

"Sorry..." Sam mumbled. "Go on..."

"Screw that!" Dean said. "Its a two man offer!" Dean kneeled in front of his brother and placed a hand on his shoulder. "They either get us both, or not at all."

Sam smiled. "Thanks, Dean."

---

Dean had to consciously think about breathing, keeping it even and controlled.

The guards, including Marc, found them and dragged them back to the factory. They were immediately chained up and punished in separate places. While they beat Dean for hours, using chains and other devices, Dean had no idea what they did to Sam. Though it was enough to make him scream so loud that Dean could hear it clearly.

Afterward they put Dean in confinement. Strapping him in and gagging him with a crude, cloth gag. Every once and a while, the door would open, but no light would come in. All was still pitch black dark. A voice would talk to Dean. Talk to him about what they did to his brother.

"Mutt screamed so sweetly when we took the pokers to his ears..." the voice glorified. "Though not as sweetly as when we stripped him and poured boiling water on him. Then freezing... then boiling again." The voice practically giggled. "Then using a tazer... oh... that was fun..."

The first time the voice came, Dean exploded, his leg breaking from it's bonds and kicking the man square in the groin. Other man came and restrained Dean again and when the voice recovered...

"Oh, you'll pay dearly for that, Butch. Your brother's never going to see you again."

When the voice came back later, he had a new story to tell... one that made Dean almost pass out from grief, anger, and guilt.

Then the voice went away, leaving Dean with his anger and anguish. But the voice would always come back. Come back with a new story. One seemingly more horrifying than the last.

After a while, Dean started to wonder if the voice was real, or just in his head.

---

Master Handerson looked at the cellphones the slaves known as Mutt and Butch had on them when they were captured. Handerson knew that he couldn't use those slaves anymore. If it really took this much to break them, then they were a waste of time and resources. Handerson would see to it personally that each of them was completely broken before he contacted someone the slaves knew. Like the 'Bobby' listed on the contacts of both phones.

"Father?" Lisa asked timidly.

"Ah... Lisa." Handerson placed the phones down and pinned his daughter to the bed. "Are you ready to make me feel good again?"

Lisa hid the tear that fell down her face as her father entered her and started to roughly fondle her breasts, not caring how much pain he was causing her. "Yes, Daddy."

---

Bobby approached the abandoned house with caution. He had been looking for the Winchester brothers for over a week now. They disappeared with signs of a struggle. But besides that, there were no signs to as where they were taken. So when Bobby receives a message from one of their cellphones from a stranger's voice, Bobby knew that it must be their kidnapper. But when Bobby tried to trace the phones, they couldn't be found. Bobby can only assume they were destroyed after he received the message or that they were in a dead zone.

The message was clear. The boys he was looking for would be at this location by the next day. Bobby tried to get here sooner so he could see if he could identify the kidnapper, however it would seem that it was too late.

Or it was a trap.

Bobby got out of his truck and made sure he was ready for everything. A shotgun with rock salt, holy water, and a pistol with silver bullets. If the kidnapper happened to be human, the silver bullets would do.

Bobby slowly crept through the old house, cringing with each step as the wood moaned and creaked under him. He checked the ground floor, than the upstairs.

When Bobby descended the stairs to the basement, he could hear ragged breathing and small keens of distress. "Boys?" Bobby asked.

The ragged breathing came to an abrupt stop before starting again, more quickly. The sound of shuffling bodies and the clinking of chains echoed through the basement.

Bobby reached for his flashlight and scanned the basement. When he reached the far corner, he froze. "Oh god..."

Both the boys were naked, covered in injuries. Obvious signs of torture. Sam was curled into a ball smaller than it would seem possible for his body. The soft keens came from him. Dean had his arms protectively wrapped around Sam, rocking him back and forth mechanically. They were both chained securely to the floor

Both had a look of absolute fear and terror in their eyes as they squinted into the sudden light. But while Dean's were normal, if bloodshot, Sam's eyes were a mixture of bloodshot and milky white.

Bobby slowly approached them. "It's okay, boys. It's just me... It's Uncle Bobby..."

The brothers cowered in terror from the approaching figure, pulling on their chains. Sam's keens becoming louder and Dean's rocking becoming more persistent.

Bobby froze. "It's me... Bobby Singer. You used to come to my house a lot when your daddy was away. Remember?"

They remained unchanged except that Sam buried his face into his brother's chest and Dean bowed his head over his brother's in a protective manner.

Bobby steeled himself. He didn't have any other choice. He walked up to the brother's, ignoring their protests and fearful noises, and took out the pistol. He shot the chains and they broke free from the floor. He then secured the gun away and kneeled in front of the terrified men. Bobby placed a hand on Dean's cheek. Dean seemed to be a bit more lucid and more likely to break through. "Dean boy... It's me."

A tear fell down Dean's dirty cheek as he stared fearfully at the older man. Then Dean looked confused, then doubtful. "B-Bo - bee..." Dean croaked out.

Bobby smiled. "That's right, Dean. It's just me."

Dean frowned. "D-De-'n...?"

"That's your name." Bobby pointed to Sam. "And that's your brother, Sam."

Dean squeezed his brother closer to him. "M-Mu-u..." Dean whispered.

Bobby sighed. "Look, I have to get you boys to a hospital." Bobby looked over their body's again, at the extent of the injuries. That's when the fact they were naked hit him. "Stupid...!" he cursed himself. He shed off his jacket and lay it over Dean's body. Sam's was mostly covered by his brother, so there wasn't much more Bobby could do about that. He flipped out his cell and called 911. "My n-nephews... they're hurt. Badly. ... No, they dis-disappeared about a week ago. ... I don't know." Bobby's eyes started to water. "I don't know. Please just get someone here." Without another word he slipped the cell shut.

Dean's attention was on his brother again. He gripped Sam so tightly, Bobby was worried he might break under the pressure, but Sam didn't seem to mind. Dean's face was buried in his brother's matted hair as rocked him back and forth.

Bobby kneeled down again and placed a gentle hand on Dean's head. Dean flinched and cowered a little, but made no other move to remove the hand. "I'm going to get you better boys," Bobby promised. "I'm going to get you better."


Okay, I know it must have seemed abrupt, but it's what I came too when writing it. IT'S NOT MY FAULT! BLAME THE HANDS! XD

Please let me know all your thoughts. I'm trying to keep this fic as realistic as possible so please let me know if you think Sam and Dean are out of character, given the circumstances I've given them.

PLEASE REVIEW AND FEED THE DRAGON!