Psychic Mojo Part Seven
Sunday, 3:30 pm
This really wasn't funny any more. Okay, it had never been funny per se, but earlier he'd been convinced he could talk himself out of this mess. Now, he wasn't sure. Joe was a man whose anger clouded his reason and he was beyond rational judgment.
Dean's biggest concern now was that Sam might actually find him. His brother was smart. If he'd found someone who could identify Joe from the bar, he had half a chance of figuring out where Joe lived. Of course, he had no idea where Joe had taken him, but Joe didn't seem the creative type. It was probably somewhere obvious.
The thought of Sam turning up here filled him with dread. Sam wasn't stupid, but he would be desperate, and desperation led to carelessness. It was also entirely possible that Sam would simply turn up and offer himself in exchange for his brother. Dean felt his chest tighten at that thought. He wasn't worth it. Sam was the clever one, the one with a gift, the one with a future. Much as he tried to believe that one day they were going to be a family again, he didn't believe it. Not really. He knew that sooner or later Sam would go back to college and become a hotshot lawyer. And then Sam would slowly but surely fade out of his life.
But that didn't matter, so long as Sam was safe. Dean had devoted his whole life to making sure his younger brother stayed safe, and he wasn't about to stop now. Yes, he was exhausted, he was cold and he was hurting--badly. Yes, he was desperate enough that he might eventually resort to begging Joe to let him go. But he'd never accept freedom at Sam's expense.
Never.
Again, it came back to Kale. The kid was his only chance. Kale was clearly in over his head, and Dean was sure it wouldn't take much to pull him under.
It must be mid-afternoon by now. The sun had moved, leaving their half of the room in darkness and lighting previously dark corners. Joe had found a couple of hurricane lamps, hanging one from a post and leaving the other on the floor. They gave light, but little warmth. Joe was outside again, although he'd left the door open so he could hear what was going on inside. Dean wasn't the only one who recognized Kale was at breaking point.
"Kale," he said, keeping his voice low. "Kale, you have to let me go." He tried to sound authoritative, but the words came out suspiciously weak and wavering.
Kale glanced at him. "Can't do that. You know I can't do that."
"Are you that afraid of your brother?"
"You've seen what he's like when he's mad. And anyway, he's right. Keeping you here is the only chance we have to get Maddy back."
"You can't still believe that. Joe's kidding himself. I told you, Sam can't find me through a vision. But if you don't let me go, what do you think Joe's going to do when he finally works that out for himself?"
Kale narrowed his eyes. "He'll let you go eventually."
"I might be dead by then."
He felt a stab of fear at his own blunt words, because he knew it was true. And from the panicked look in Kale's eyes, Kale knew it, too. It gave him hope.
"Come on, Kale, all you have to do is cut the rope. I'll tell them it wasn't your fault. We can get away from here together."
Kale hesitated, then nodded. He took a step forward and stopped dead when he heard footsteps. Joe walked up, eyeing the two of them. "What's going on?"
"Nothing!" Kale said quickly, but he was an unconvincing liar.
"I think you've been running off your mouth again, Pretty Boy. What have you been saying to my brother?"
Dean was a long way past a smart comeback, so he said nothing.
"Lost your voice? Let's see if I can help you get it back."
Joe picked up the cattle prod, and Dean flinched, unable to stop himself. Not again. Please, not again.
Joe saw his reaction and grinned. "What's the matter, scared of the little stick?" He circled Dean, holding the prod against his neck and running it down his chest until it came to rest against his side, just above his hip. "Maybe if you beg nicely, I won't use it."
Dean wanted nothing more than to beg Joe not to hurt him, but something deep inside him just couldn't give the bastard the satisfaction.
"Go to hell," he said, and braced himself for the pain. He should have been ready, he knew how it felt, but it was as fresh and strong as ever. A scream was torn from his already raw throat as the familiar white-hot agony shot through his body.
Then, through the red haze before his eyes, he saw the door of the barn fly open and a very tall, broad-shouldered man marched in, gun in hand. He strode into the middle of the room and glanced in Dean's direction for one long moment. Then he pointed his gun very deliberately at Joe and said clearly, "Touch my brother again and I'll kill you."
Dean felt dizzy and the room swam before him. Maybe he'd passed out and this was a dream. Because for a minute there, he'd thought the man with the voice of granite and icy eyes was Sammy. His little brother. Dean blinked to clear his vision. No, it was still Sammy, standing resolutely, his grip firm on the gun. His mouth was set in a hard line, and the anger in his eyes frightened Dean a little. He was certain that if Joe took another step, Sam would take the shot, and it was clear Joe believed it too.
And it was wrong, it was so wrong to see his baby brother in the role of protector, yet he felt a stab of pride at Sam's strength and resourcefulness. He opened his mouth to warn Sam to be careful, not to underestimate Joe, but the room spun, and a moment later, everything faded into darkness.
………………………………
Sam had waited to take the gun out until the moment before he kicked open the barn door, knowing that McGraw would try to stop him from using it. But no way was he going in there unarmed -- he didn't know what weapons Joe had and he wasn't taking any chances with Dean's life.
He burst through the door. Everything was exactly as he'd seen it in the last vision, except for the fire, and he thanked God that he'd gotten here in time.
He glanced at Dean, bloody and bruised and clearly on the verge of collapse, and saw a flicker of shocked recognition in confused and pain-filled eyes.
He turned his gaze back to the man who had been torturing his brother – and enjoying it, by the smile on his lips and the manic light in his eyes – and pure rage coursed through him.
"Touch my brother again, and I'll kill you."
At that moment, he was ready to put a bullet through Joe's head if he so much as looked in Dean's direction.
Joe had taken a few steps towards him, but stopped abruptly, and Sam could tell he believed the threat.
"Drop the prod and put your hands in the air."
Kale already had his hands up, a look of terror on his face. Joe slowly placed the prod on the ground and raised his hands.
"Take it easy there, Sammy. Glad you could join us. You took your time."
"Step away from him."
"Anything you say, Sammy." Joe took two slow steps away from Dean and toward Sam. McGraw, who had slipped into the barn unnoticed, chose that moment to step out of the shadows.
Joe's eyes widened in disbelief. "Dad! What the hell are you doing here?"
"What do you think? You've just kidnapped and tortured a man, Joe. You've gone too far, and there's nothing I can do to protect you this time."
Joe's eyes narrowed. "Dad, what're you talking about? I'm doing this for Maddy."
McGraw shook his head. "No, you're not. You're doing it because you're a sadistic bastard." Sam watched pain contort his features and wondered how much it had cost him to say those words to his eldest son.
McGraw turned to his youngest. "Kale, I know you're only here because Joe made you do it. But it's over, son."
Kale nodded, licking his lips. "Dad, I'm sorry. Joe said--"
Joe snarled and his face contorted in rage. "You little bastard. You're gonna turn against your own brother?"
Ignoring Sam and the gun, he hurled himself at his brother and his superior weight bore them both to the ground. As they fell, Joe's foot caught the hurricane lamp on the floor. Time seemed to slow, and Sam watched in horror as it fell onto a bale of hay. The hay went up in flames, just like his vision, immediately spreading to a neighboring bale.
Oh, God. It was happening after all. He hadn't stopped it.
Sam looked desperately for something to douse the fire, but in seconds more bales had caught.
McGraw shouted, "We have to get out of here!"
Joe had already pushed himself to his feet and was running for the door. Caught in a moment of indecision, Kale's eyes flicked from Dean to the encroaching fire. McGraw shouted, "Kale, get out of here!" and after a moment's hesitation, Kale followed his brother while Sam and McGraw ran to Dean. Sam handed McGraw his knife and Tom began to cut through the rope. When the rope snapped, Dean dropped, but Sam was ready. Grateful that his brother was unconscious and unable to feel the pain, he quickly hefted him onto his shoulder and raced for the door.