Joey was serving up mixed drinks behind his bar when his partner, Rebecca, hurried over. "She's here." Rebecca stated, looking terrified.

Joey rolled his eyes, making Dean smirk. "Please tell me she's alone this time?"

Rebecca shook her head. "She's got a guy restrained on the mat in the corner. But she put him in the full locking head mask so nobody can tell how old he is. It's getting bad down there, Joey. People are getting freaked."

Dean saw an uncharacteristic flash of anger in Joey's eyes as he processed his partner's words. "She's hurting him? Actually hurting him?"

Rebecca looked ill. "More like torture from what I'm hearing. He's … he's screaming under the mask, and she has it all zipped up tight with the padlock on. Won't give anyone the key. She's … she's shocking him with some kind of device …"

Dean felt himself turn a little green at the girl's words.

"Son of a bitch! So help me, I'll filet that little bitch if she's torturing some innocent kid on my watch." Joey hurried away.

"Hey! You need help?" Dean asked, ready to step up.

But this was the last scene that Joey wanted his hesitant friend to witness. "No, I got it, Dean. Just hang tight, okay? I'll be right back." Joey headed for the basement. "Don't leave!" He called back, "We got things to discuss!"

###

Joey had to push past the mass exodus of people making their way up his basement steps. They were fleeing, which couldn't be good. And Joey could hear the muffled screams before he was halfway down.

There, in the corner. Ronnie knelt in a tight little black dress. She wore black rubber gloves and had something small in her hand, and every time she touched her playmate with it, his back arched up off the mat and he screamed in agony.

Joey was going to puke. He just knew it.

"Ronnie!" He roared, charging forward and pushing her back away from the man she tortured. Her hands flew up as she lost her balance, and the device brushed against Joey's open palm.

He swore, yanking his hand back. It felt like she'd just stripped all the flesh off his hand.

"Son of a bitch! Where'd you get that?" He screamed, knocking it from her fist. He looked down at the kid on the mat and saw the red lines that criss-crossed his chest where she had shocked him. The kid was dressed in a full suit with the front ripped open, and his dress pants had been unbuttoned and looked as though someone had tried and failed to tug them down. Joey spied a glimpse of white boxer peeking out beneath them.

Worst of all was the mask, and Joey groaned. It was one he'd bought against his better judgement because several couples had requested it. The thing gave Joey the creeps. It was all black leather and buckles with a zipper that closed and locked over the mouth. Ronnie had the mouth locked up tight with the padlock and the eye shield engaged, and Joey knew the poor guy inside was being entirely sensory deprived. He was throwing that damned thing in the trash as soon as it came off the kid's head.

"Key!" He barked, but Ronnie just sat on the floor where she'd fallen, staring at the kid on the mat.

"Ronnie!" He nudged her with his shoe. "Gimme the damned key!"

She shook her head, glancing up at him. "I'm not done. He has to pay."

"Oh you're done, girly. And if I get this mask off and find out you got some schoolboy under there, you're going to jail this time. You have my promise on that. Now gimme the damned key!"

But Ronnie just smiled, making Joey want to smack her. He'd have to have one of the women frisk her. He called out to Rebecca. "Becky, get Lila and pat her down, we need that key!"

Joey knelt before the boy on the mat, running a frustrated hand through his own hair. He couldn't even comfort the kid, knowing that any touch would freak him out more. The poor kid whimpered and shook with fear. He was making his wrists bloody, fighting the restraints, and that mask - it was just the stuff of nightmares. Joey considered removing the wrist restraints, but he didn't know how badly the kid was hurt. He could do himself more damage if he got loose and started clawing at the mask.

"What's his name?" He barked at Ronnie, praying she'd at least give him that much.

"Sam …" she said softly. "I love him."

Joey grimaced, she'd lost it. completely. "Sam what?"

"Winchester."

Joey froze. Oh no. No no no. Surely, he'd heard that wrong. Little Sammy Winchester was … what? Fifteen? Sixteen? No way could this be Sam. He looked up and down the boy's form, feeling like a creeper, but he hadn't seen Sam in over a year.

"Sam Winchester? Lives out at the salvage yard with his uncle and his brother?" Joey barked, turning to face this girl he'd come to despise. When she nodded, he swore.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!" He searched out the eyes of one of the few spectators who'd been brave enough to stay, hoping to be able to help. "Can you do me a favor, please?"

The guy nodded immediately.

"The new guy upstairs. Maroon shirt with a visitor's tag. Tell him I need him down here right away. He was sitting at the bar. Name's Dean."

###

Dean followed the stranger with trepidation, unsure that he wanted to see what he was about to see. The guy who'd come to get him was huge and hulking, but he looked terrified and a little ill, and Dean couldn't begin to imagine what had done that to him.

He followed the guy to the bottom steps and looked around, finding Joey in a far corner. His friend was kneeling beside a mat that held a half-naked man. The man on the mat was in distress, Dean could tell, and as he approached he could hear the man's whimpers of pain and fear and see the harsh lines marking his chest. And what the hell was that on his head?

Dean knelt beside Joey, feeling sick that someone had done this to another human being, let alone a kid. "What can I do?" He asked softly, reaching out to try and comfort the kid.

"Don't!" Joey blurted, as Dean yanked his hand back. "Dean, don't touch him. He's in a sensory deprivation mask. He can't see or hear a thing. He has no idea who we are or that he's safe.

Dean swallowed down bile. "What the hell, Joey …"

"Dean." Joey eyed him worriedly. "Dean, listen, okay? I need you to not lose your shit here. You gotta promise me?"

Dean frowned, "I ain't exactly a virgin here, Joey. Why would I?"

Joey looked like he was going to burst into tears at any minute, and that worried Dean beyond measure. "Just promise me, okay? Cause if you lose your shit, then he's gonna lose his even more than he already has, okay?"

Dean nodded, not getting it. "Yeah, sure. I promise, I guess."

"Dean …" Joey closed his eyes. "Dean, I think … I think it's Sammy."

Dean actually felt the color drain from his face at those words. He stared at Joey, his expression blank, "You … what … you …?" Dean swallowed hard, looking down at the ravaged kid on the mat, really looking this time."

Black suit … dress shoes from the thrift shop with the worn spot on the toe. White boxers. Oh God, his pants were undone. This couldn't … this couldn't be Sam. Dean felt himself beginning to hyperventilate. No way this terrified kid tied down to a mat in the corner of a basement was Sam. This kid who was locked inside the most sadistic headgear that Dean had ever seen and who'd fought so desperately to free himself that he'd torn his wrists to ribbons. This was not Sam. He'd left Sam safe and happy at that damned dance. Left him with …

Dean's horrified eyes met Joey's. "I left him at the dance with …"

Joey swallowed, "Ronnie?"

Dean felt a tear run down his cheek as he looked back down at his baby brother.

"Sammy?" Dean whispered, reaching forward, then stopping. Sam screamed then from inside the mask, whether from frustration or fear or … whatever, Dean couldn't tell, but he couldn't … he just … he couldn't.

"Oh my God! Get that mask off him!" Dean screamed, reaching down and yanking at the hateful headgear. "He can't stand … he's claustrophobic! Joey! He can't stand that! Get it off him!"

But when Dean's hands touched the mask, Sam's body arched up off the mat, and he screamed again.

"Where's that damned key?" Joey roared back at the two women who wrestled with Ronnie.

Dean saw her then, huddled there in the corner with two women struggling to search her for the key that locked his little brother inside his own private hell.

He couldn't … he didn't have time for her right now. Sam was all that mattered. He studied the mask, tugging at the eye guard.

But Joey enlightened him. "It's all locked down tight with the key. We can't communicate with him at all till we either get the key or get someone in here to cut it off."

Dean's eyes widened. "I can pick a lock! I need a paperclip!"

Joey shook his head. "No, you can't. Not this one, Dean. Trust me."

Sam was crying; Dean could hear him inside the mask, and his heart broke in two. He had to find a way to let Sammy know he was safe, that Dean was here. He had to find a way to communicate without words.

And then he knew. Dammit. He knew!

Dean moved over to Sam's right hand where it was fastened tight to the floor. He turned it gently so it was palm up. Sam startled and bucked at the touch, but Dean held on. He pulled Sam's fingers out flat and used his own finger to gently write one letter on his brother's palm. The letter "I".

Sam stilled instantly. His bare chest rising and falling in desperate fear.

Dean smiled and slowly wrote out the word, "AM."

Sam was waiting, Dean could tell. He carefully began writing the last word. "DEAN." When he finished the "N," he felt Sam's hand relax in his own.

Dean couldn't believe he'd forgotten. He and Sam had used this method of communication for years when they were kids. Anytime John was home from a hunt and they all had to share the same motel room, Dean and Sam would talk the nights away using this unique form of sign language that didn't require light or speech.

Dean carefully released Sam's right wrist from the restraints and lifted it, first to the side of his face where Sam could feel his stubble, then to the amulet that hung round his neck. Sam grasped his brother's shirt desperately, trying to pull the older boy down to him, and Dean went willingly. He huddled over the boy for a moment, rubbing his arm. Then he released the second wrist restraint, and helped Sam sit up. Dean positioned his body around behind him, and the two boys sat there, Dean holding Sam's hands to keep them from clawing at the mask.

Joey knelt in front of them, grinning. "Damndest thing I ever saw, Dean." He rejoiced. But it was short lived when Sam began to heave.

"Oh shit! OH SHIT!" Joey breathed, horrified eyes finding Dean's.

"Dean! He can't vomit! Not in that mask! There's nowhere for it to go!"