Bet you guys thought I had given up on this or forgotten about this crazy story but I've been working on this chapter for a while and I wanted to make sure it was the best I could do despite my circumstances. I would have put this up earlier but I got a nice concussion last month and I'm still not completely over it but I tried working on this whenever I could. My head still hurts badly so it might take a while before I post the next chapter (which I am close to finishing). Please tell me if I misspelled anything or stopped mid-sentance. My ADHD is really bad since I got my concussion and I could barely check to make sure it was good enough to post.

The ride to the warehouse was silent. No one dared to say a word as Dean drove fast enough to break the speed limit by twenty. The sounds of Motörhead and Led Zeppelin that usually accompanied the oldest Winchester were absent on the untouched radio. Beverly, who was occupying the backseat of the old car, watched how Dean's grip tightened on the wheel as the car ate up miles. When they passed under a light, she could see how his jaw was painfully clenched together.

Twenty miles away from their destination and Beverly decided that the silent, awkward ride needed to come to an end. She cleared her throat before speaking.

"So, what's the plan?" she met Dean's green tired eyes in the rearview mirror for a few seconds-how does he not crash?-before he pulled away.

"Find Sam and maybe show the son of a bitch what the inside of him looks like."

Beverly grimaced at the thought of someone seeing their own internal organs. She wasn't easily squeamish; Beverly was used to the gruesome recaps about her step-brother's latest hunts and she may watch a little too much Grey's Anatomy and ER, but hearing about it and seeing it on TV were different from witnessing it in person.

"Okay..." she trailed off, the gross thought invading her mind.

"Why is he so fixated on hurting you boys anyway? What did you do to him?" Bobby asked. He knew the Winchesters had a long history filled with people that wanted them dead but neither brother told him much about the one case last year that led this psychopath to them.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Last year a witch was terrorizing and murdering people in Stratford-"

"I know that ya idget. Just tell me what you two did to piss him off."

Dean sent Bobby a quick glare before continuing.

"The witch, Mandy, was his wife." Dean said. "I pulled the trigger and shot the bitch while Sam kept Ryan away from her. He distracted him for a while somehow, probably used those damn eyes, but we had to tell him about it eventually. When we told him, he seemed really okay with the fact we just killed his wife. Hell he even thanked us for preventing anything else happening."

"He must have been a professional con-man if he could trick you two into believing he was okay with that," Bobby said.

"Honestly I didn't care if he was lying or not. It was one of the first cases we went on since Sam got his soul back and I was worried the entire time if he would break down and remember everything that happened to him."

"Your brother lost his soul?" Beverly asked in awe. "Henry told me about people selling their souls but losing it? How is that even possible?"

She stopped asking questions when she saw the heated look in the mirror Dean was shooting her.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"Now we have a psychopath who has probably been planning this for a year taking it out on Sam. And he knew about us Bobby." Dean took his eyes off the road to look at his surrogate father. Bobby pretended not to notice the undead tears in Dean's eyes. "He somehow knew about Sam and I and now he's going to take away Sam, just like I took his wife away."

"Well you two are sort of obvious" was what Beverly wanted to say. She didn't say it out loud however, for she knew she had no say in their illegal relationship nor would she make it out of the Impala in one piece if Dean heard her say that.

Instead she looked down at her phone and gave Dean the directions when he asked for it.

She sort of regretted breaking the silence earlier and replacing it with an even more awkward silence.

"Having fun?"

"Fuck off," Sam hissed. He was annoyed with the cheery vibe that bounced off the man.

"That wasn't really nice Sammy," Ryan said as he approached the bed. Sam looked at the man, throwing him one of his infamous bitch-faces as he spoke.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't know I forgot it's inconsiderate to be rude to some asshole who enjoys abducting and torturing people. Condolences," Sam shot back, secretly pleased with the venomous tone he had used with Ryan. He was done with the man, done with the hallucination who had nothing better to do than sing off-key to the same song fifty-six times in a row, done with this entire mess.

He just wanted his brother.

"There's the infamous Winchester sass," the man said. "You know, you really should learn some manners Sammy."

"It's Sam," he spat out.

Ryan chuckled and turned around to the cart Sam grew to loath almost as much as the man himself. He picked up the bloodstained blade he had used on Sam earlier and studied it before turning his attention back to the bound figure.

"Really? More cutting?" his hallucination, who had been standing silently on the edge of Sam's bed piped up. "I thought he'd have something better in store for you," he sighed and plopped down on the bed next to Sam's bound leg. "He could break your other wrist or rip off your fingernails and toenails one by one but instead he goes for the knife again. See if you were with me Sammy I would come up with a lot of things to keep you on your toes."

Ryan studied Sam for a couple of seconds before putting the knife back down. He grabbed a chair that was in the middle of the room-Sam believes it's the chair Ryan tied him down to when he first woke up to this hellish nightmare-and dragged it over to Sam.

"Maybe we should give that lovely body of yours a break from the pain," he said as he sat down in the chair. "Let's talk."

Sam stared at the man, dumbfounded. The man who abducted him and tortured him wanted to talk?

"So what now you want to talk about your feelings?"

Ryan smirked when he heard the confusion in his captive's voice. "No I want to talk about something else. Let's talk about Dean. Tell me Sammy, is he worth it?"

"What?"

"Is Dean worth this illegal and disgusting relationship you two have?"

Sam knew the answer to that immediately but he refused to answer the psychopath sitting in front of him. Sam turned his head away from the man, which was hard to do when he was being constantly chocked by the makeshift noose.

"Come on Sammy just answer the nice man's question," Lucifer said.

Sam gave the devil a murderous look.

"Answer my question slut," Ryan said, unfazed by the look Sam shot at him, the same one he gave Lucifer two seconds earlier. "Is that whore of a brother worth it?"

"Yes," Sam replied. He could take the taunts and the name calling and the torture but he wouldn't stay silent while the maniac was talking about his brother as if he was lower than trash. "Yes he is worth it. Dean is the most important person to me. He takes care of me, always has been since I was a baby. He puts everyone's needs before himself. He's a selfless, stubborn bastard who do deserves more than he believes he does." Sam could see the hate growing in Ryan's eyes as he talked about his brother. "He's smart, beautiful, can easily kick ass and is great in bed too."

The sudden punch to his eye had left Sam unprepared for the attack. Sam's head shot back, the force of the punch harder than he had thought it would be. He could already feel his eye swelling up.

"You sick fuck!" Ryan yelled. "He's your damn brother! You shouldn't have those kind of feelings for him you bastard!"

He stepped over the chair that had fallen to the ground when he stood up and pulled the bloodstained knife off the cart. Sam fought the urge to groan. The routine cutting was annoying but nothing he hadn't experienced before.

Sam winced a bit when he felt the blade cut another shallow gash into his chest, close to the other cuts, before moving down to his lower body. Ryan sliced a path down his thigh and ended just below his calf.

"What are you some kind of vampire or do you just have a sick fetish for blood?" Sam asked sarcastically, his teeth clenched together in mild pain. It hurt more than he expected. Huh. The blood loss was probably starting to get to him. He thought it would take a bit longer until he started to feel the effects kick in.

"There's just something about watching the way your blood leaves you body that soothes me," Ryan said, his calm tone a sharp contrast to the one he had used earlier. "Watching something that's contaminated with something filthy, something unclean, slowly bleed out is satisfying."

"He has no idea," Sam thought. At least the man doesn't know about the demon blood; it would be one more thing the man could use to taunt him.

Ryan gripped Sam's face in his hand and brought the knife closer to the younger man's face. He ran the flat side of the bloodied blade down Sam's cheek, leaving a trail of blood on Sam's face.

"You know, Dean probably doesn't care about you," he said, still stroking the blade around Sam's face. "He's probably glad you're gone. He won't have to deal with those issues up in your head anymore," he said as he lightly tapped the flat of the blade against Sam's temple before bringing it back down to his face.

"That's what I've been saying!" Lucifer clapped his hands together as he stood up from the chair. "I really like this guy Sammy. You and Dean sure know how to pick your enemies," Lucifer said.

Sam rolled his eyes. He knew that the man and the hallucination were just trying to rile him up. Even after all the times they had fought or tried to go their separate ways, they had always somehow came back to each other. It was like some unknown force didn't want them to stay apart. Even if the universe tried to keep them apart, it would never succeed. They would both find a way to get back to each other. They always did.

"Is that all you got? A flimsy knife, some crappy jokes, and a shock machine?" Sam stared down his tormentor. He had been through worse-time in the cage can raise one's pain tolerance-and unlike in the cage, Sam could allow himself to hope that he could somehow escape it that Dean would somehow find him and put an end to this nightmare.

"Well that shock machine sure did a number to you kid," Ryan said. He placed a hand on Sam's upper chest and Sam gritted his teeth in attempt to hold back the moan. He didn't realize that his body had an array of dark purplish bruises until Ryan had touched the one on his chest.

"These are some pretty nasty bruises I left you," Ryan said. He placed a hand over Sam's chest, right where his heart was. He was silent for a few beats before breaking it with a chuckle. "Surprised your heart is still strong after all of this."

"I've survived worse," Sam replied truthfully. He survived through a lot of physical and mental torture from the supernatural they hunted. He could handle one stupid human with a knife.

"He's your hero isn't he?" Ryan said, suddenly changing the focus from Sam's wounds to his brother. "You're the poor damsel in distress, waiting for your hero to come and save you."

Ryan, still holding the blade close to the younger man's face, raised his other hand and squeezed Sam's broken wrist, grinning as Sam attempted to suppress the pained sound that slipped out of his mouth.

"Your hero is late," he said and grabbed Sam's face again. Sam tried to pull away from the hand-it was really starting to annoy the hell out of him how much this man liked to touch him-but Ryan's grip was tight. He dug his fingernails into Sam's jaw, leaving small red crescent shaped marks on Sam's jaw. Sam felt his throat constricting as he tried to pull away from the man. He had forgotten about the damn noose.

"Easy kid. Don't go chocking yourself to death I'm not done with you yet."

Sam could have laughed at the man. He was the one who wanted the "extra insurance" that was currently suffocating him.

"You would be a nice fuck I bet," he said silently as he studied the man laid out on the filthy mattress.

"And you'd be a nice kill," Sam retorted.

"All talk," his tormentor replied. The blade trailed up until it had reached Sam's good eye. Sam unintentionally began squirming in his restraints when the tip neared his eye.

"Now we're taking," Lucifer said and moved closer to the man holding the knife.

"This might hurt a bit," Ryan said. "Actually it will hurt a lot but I'm sure you can handle it."

"Please I've already done that," Lucifer said to the man, but Sam knew the words were aimed at him. "Besides what's so bad about losing an eye or two other than being in permanent darkness? You should know Sammy what with all the fun times we had in the cage together."

Sam clamped his eyes shut, ready to resist the man more even if all he got out of it was annoying his tormentor when suddenly Ryan pulled the blade away. Sam let out a small breath of relief when the looming blade was out of his sight.

Before Sam could comment or make a snarky remark just to annoy Ryan, he clamped a callous hand over Sam's mouth, disregarding the muffled grunts that came from the hunter on the filthy bed. He stayed quiet for a moment, head craned as he listened for something Sam couldn't hear.

With no explanation, he removed his hand from Sam's mouth and quickly walked out of the room, leaving both Sam and his hallucination behind, confused by his captor's sudden change in behavior.

"Huh, wonder what that's all about," Lucifer said. For the first time since seeing the damn hallucination, Sam had to agree with it.

What the hell is going on?

Dean pulled up to the deserted lot and parked the Impala right in front of the warehouse. As soon as the car came to a stop he quickly hopped out of the it. He ran to the back and unlocked the trunk and took off the fake flooring, revealing the weapons, protection, and other necessary hunting equipment. While Dean reached for his .45 and replaced the rock salt with bullets, Bobby walked over to the trunk and reached for his shotgun while he spoke.

"Dean, don't go crazy with killing the man. We're here to get Sam and maybe kill the bastard but-"

"Maybe? Bobby I'm ganking the fucker's ass as soon as I see him," Dean replied. He made sure his gun was loaded and cocked it before turning to the older man.

"No one touches Sam, let alone abducts him and tortures him, and gets away with it," he said before pulling a knife out of the trunk and stuffing it in his back pocket.

Bobby sighed and took his worn baseball cap off, rubbing the bald spot on his head. "You two have the most codependent relationship I've ever seen."

Dean spared Bobby a small grin. "You should have know that by know Bobby." Dean said. He grabbed another gun from the trunk before walking back to Beverly, who was still in the back of the Impala. He held out the Beretta M9 he had in his hand to her.

"Stay out here but if anything comes shoot first and ask questions later. Understand?"

She examined the gun in Dean's hand before glancing back up at the hunter confused.

"Why can't I come with you? You two are gonna need all the help you can get."

"Listen I let you come along for the ride but you aren't coming with us. It's too dangerous." Dean held the gun out to her, staring her in the eyes as he spoke. "Do you know how to use this?"

"I-I had some target practice with Henry but I suck at aiming."

"That's good enough," he said, smiling as Beverly rolled her eyes and took the gun out of Dean's hand. She took the safety off and looked up at Dean.

"So you don't want me to come with you but you're perfectly fine with handing me a gun?"

"If you don't want it I can take it back-"

"No I'd be more comfortable if I have something with me just in case," she said. She'd rather stay outside in the Impala alone with a weapon just in case rather than outside in the Impala alone with nothing on her.

"Alright. We'll be back," Dean said. He turned to Bobby, who had just finished loading his shotgun. "Time to get Sammy back."

Dean, too wrapped up planning his brother's captor's death, failed to notice the silhouette of a person looking out one of the windows in the warehouse.

Sam didn't bother to look up when the door slammed open. He already knew Ryan was back from whatever he ran off to. Sam was getting tired of seeing his two tormentors over and over again. His head rolled to the side of the uncomfortable mattress, his injuries and concussion and the lack of sleep and water making him feel weary and a bit nauseous.

Sam however did look up when he heard the familiar click of a safety being taken off. It came from the revolver Ryan was holding in his left hand.

"I'm sorry but I have to cut our time together short," Ryan said as he put the revolver down on the cart and reached for the roll of tape.

The meager continents in Sam's stomach began to roll when he heard his captor talk. He didn't like where this was going. "Listen, you don't have to do this," Sam urged, struggling against his restraints as Ryan approached him. "You're not a murder."

"My wife easily killed all those bastards with a simple hex-bag before you two came and killed her. I'm capable of killing some helpless sick fuck with a bullet."

Ryan ripped off a piece of tape with his teeth and slammed it down on the struggling man's mouth. "I can't have you screaming for help when I kill you," he explained.

Sam, speech hindered, gave Ryan a confused look. Ryan leaned over the bed and softly spoke in Sam's ear.

"Big brother's here. I can't have you calling out to him before I kill you. That would ruin the surprise I have planned for him."

Sam felt his heart speed up as Ryan spoke. Dean? He's here?

Sam, speech hindered, decided to pull out the puppy dog eyes (as Dean liked to call it) and pleaded with his eyes for Ryan to stop. Ryan just laughed at his captive's merger attempts to reason with him.

"Puppy dog eyes aren't going to work on me boy-o," Ryan put the tape down and reached for the gun. He climbed on the bed and straddled the man struggling in his bonds. He pulled out a single bullet from his pocket and placed inside the chamber of the gun and spun it before closing it.

"It's my version of Russian Roulette," Ryan explained, holding the revolver up to the dim light and examining it, but Sam knew he was just trying to scare him. "The way to play is there is one bullet in the chamber. I get to choose five parts of your body that I would like to shoot. I keep choosing until the bullet leaves the chamber. Since I'm the one controlling the gun, we all know who's going to bite the dust."

"Don't worry," he continued, "the doors and windows are locked and sturdy. Dean won't be able to interrupt our fun until it's over."

He moved down until he was sitting below Sam's knees and placed the pistol over Sam's cock. "Maybe right here would be good. Dean would be devastated to see his little cockslut shot in his precious package," he smirked as he watched the younger man squirm in the handcuffs as he placed the barrel of the gun at the head of Sam's cock. "That wouldn't kill you unless I shoot it in a certain place, but it will hurt like the bitch you are."

He pulled the trigger, sighing when nothing came out.

"That's a shame. Dean would've really been devastate by that," he said.

He climbed back up to rest on Sam's torso and aimed the gun at Sam's head.

"Or maybe your brain will be a better choice. After all, you are pretty smart and it would kill Dean if he saw that bullet through that pretty little head of yours."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, wishing Ryan would just shut the hell up and that Dean would hurry.

He pulled the trigger, chuckling as Sam twitched at the blanks.

"Looks like your grapefruit is safe."

"No Ryan it isn't safe," Lucifer said as he walked next to Ryan and stared down at Sam, "I'm still in it so he's not safe from his bunk-buddy."

Sam glared at the fallen angel. There's a reason no one in Heaven tolerated you.

Ryan went on for another two rounds, aiming at both Sam's abdomen and throat. Both times he made crude comments about Sam's body and Dean being his lover. Those remarks alone were enough to made Sam want to throttle the bastard.

The gun didn't go off either time, and Sam knew the type of revolver he had only had a chamber for five bullets which meant that it would go off the next time he pulled the trigger.

"And we're on our last round. Looks like the heart wins," Ryan announced. He placed the barrel of the gun on Sam's chest, directly where his heart laid. "The heart is the perfect place," he said. "Dean probably loves how big that heart of yours is. Imagine his reaction when he finds it shattered. Bonus it's the same place where he shot Mandy."

"Besides, you get to feel the same way I do; empty inside, and literally heartbroken," he snickered at his own joke, shoving the gun harder. Sam let out a soft groan, his already bruised chest aching.

"Don't worry boy you'll see that sick brother of yours when he finally lands in Hell with you," he teased as he cocked the revolver.

Sam closed his eyes and made a silent apology to Dean.

I'm sorry De-

The sound of wood splintering had both men looking over at the fallen door. Dean Winchester stood in the doorway, the gun in his hand pointed at the man on top of Sam. If looks could kill, Ryan would be dead as soon as Dean laid eyes on him. Fury coated his tone when he yelled at the man.

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!"

Did you guys really think I wouldn't add a cliffhanger at a moment like this?

Crazy things happened in this chapter. Don't even know how I thought of the last part but for some reason it was one of the first things I wrote for this story. Hope it didn't seem to crazy. I beginning to think that I'm secretly some kind of psychopath or maybe I just have a very interesting mind. I hope it's the second one.

So Dean finally found Sam and the bastard (yay) but what will happen next? Guess you guys will have to wait and see.