Disclaimer: the characters are not mine. Everything else is though.
Sam is fifteen, Dean is nineteen.
I'm actually quite proud of this chapter. Turned out much better than I thought.
BTW! A clarification is in order. When I say "alien surroundings," I don't mean an alien planet! When i use the word alien, I use it to mean different or foreign. Sam woke up in surroundings that he didn't recognize. Alien. You will NEVER see aliens in my stories. Supernatural is not the 'verse for them. (unless they're dancing)
Happy Easter, to those who celebrate.
Enjoy chapter seven!
Sam was missing.
God knows how or why, but Sam was just... gone.
Okay, that's not entirely true. The bars on Sam's window had been screwed off and the window broken open. So whatever did this was probably human. But who or why any human would want to do this was beyond John. Not many hunters even knew the Winchesters, green as they were. And Bobby was the only one who knew about their abilities, and John knew that he hasn't breathed a word about them to anybody.
John had a full-blown panic attack when he went into Sam's room to find it empty. But Bobby made sure that he didn't pass out or destroy too much of the house.
No doubt Dean heard the commotion.
No doubt Dean was going to kill them when he found out what the commotion was about.
John stood outside Dean's room, his body shaking. He felt like he was going to throw up. Again. He kept trying to figure out the best way to tell Dean, but John knew... there was no 'best' way to tell him. No matter how he broke the news to him, Dean's reaction will be the same. Quick and murderous.
Deciding just to wing it and hope for the best, John unlocked Dean's door and slowly walked inside. "Dean."
Dean froze in his pacing and quickly faced John. "Thank god," he breathed. "Y-you have to check on Sam! Something's wrong! I don't know what, but -- !"
John nodded numbly as he closed the door behind him. "I know, son. I know." John glanced at Dean's face and didn't like what he saw. Dean's eyes were wide and imploring. He was trembling slightly from what John assumed was fear for his little brother and John knew there was no way to make it better.
"And?" Dean asked. "What's wrong? Is he okay? Is he sick or something?"
John shook his head, starting to taste bile in his mouth. "Dean, I think you should sit..."
"NO!" Dean yelled. "Just fucking tell me what's wrong!"
John sighed and nodded. No beating around the bush then. Make it nice and quick. "Alright. Sam's missing."
He watched and waited for Dean to explode, tackle him, try to kill him... something. But none of that happened.
Dean's fearful, imploring eyes widened into a look of shock as the news hit him. Then, his expression changed from shocked... to fearfully neutral.
"When?" he asked, his voice dangerously restrained. "How?"
John was silent for a moment, truly surprised that Dean hadn't attacked him. Taking it as a blessing, he responded. "He was there last night but gone by this morning. By the looks of it, we think it was a human. But we have no idea who or why."
Dean took a sharp inhale of breath, but otherwise remained unchanged. "Is that all you know?"
Feeling on the edge of tears, John nodded. "Bobby's trying to find some leads as to who might have done this but he hasn't found anything yet."
"He can stop looking," Dean said, a dangerous glint in his eye. "I know who took him."
John frowned. "What? How?"
Dean gave a crooked smile. "There's only one human on this planet with the motives and means to track us down and take Sam."
John stared at his son incredulously. "What are you talking about? Who?"
Dean's expression crumbled a little as he murmured, "Bret Montegue."
---
Sam's mind was clearer than it had been in a long time. The memories poked and prodded him, making their presence known, but had yet to conquer his conscience.
Sam swallowed hard as his terror assailed him. He had no idea where he was or why. He couldn't feel his brother at all, not even the small presence he usually felt when Dean was near. He was completely alone.
He was in a concrete room, probably an unfinished basement. A rough manacle was attached to his ankle, rubbing painfully against his skin. It was cold in the basement and Sam was sweating profusely, making him shiver.
Tears fell down his face unbidden as he realized what must have happened. Maybe John finally figured it out. Heck, maybe Dean finally figured it out. This was where Sam belonged. In a stone cage that stank of sewer; fit for a piece of dirty meat like him. Maybe, locked down here, he would finally stop causing pain and suffering to everyone around him.
Sam drew his knees up and cried. Even if this was what he deserved, he still wished he could have at least said goodbye to his brother. Or at least apologize. His body shook with sobs as he thought about Dean's rejection and dismissal. If Sam could have anything, he would ask for just one more minute with his big brother.
But even that was asking for too much.
Dean was above him, naked and shaking hard. Tears fell down his face as sobs racked his body. Sam could feel the tears falling silent down the side of his face as he stared at the hard metal gun pointed at his brother's head. He was vaguely aware of the quiet chanting that echoed in the room.
The man that held the gun had a crazed look in his eye. A hungry look. "Do it," he said. "Do it or I blow your brains out. Then your wittle baby bwother will be alone... with us."
Dean's sobbed harder as he said, "I-I... I'm s-so s-s-sorry..." His harsh cries stole his voice before he could say more, his eyes screwed shut in resignation and despair. His body lurched forward and Sam whimpered and closed his eyes as he felt his big brother inside of him...
Dean did everything for him. Dean did too much for him. If Sam had never been, Dean would have had the most wonderful childhood where people would fawn over him or give him whatever he liked. But instead, people's vision of Dean was corrupted by Sam's mere presence. Because of Sam, Dean led a childhood filled with suffering and despair.
His innocence stolen away because of Sam's life.
Sam hiccuped as he started to hyperventilate. He was on all fours, trying to catch his breath but his sobs wouldn't stop. Every memory where Dean suffered because of Sam flashed before him, slowly rotting his insides and gnawing at his mind.
Sam wanted to die. If he couldn't have his brother, then Sam just wanted to give up and die. But he was too scared to. What a piece of worthless shit he was. He was no good to the world and didn't even have the decency to kill himself.
A door opened, bright light flooding into the room. Sam cried out and jumped out of the light as it hit his sensitive eyes.
A tall man walked in. For a moment, Sam didn't recognize him. But when the man shut the door behind him and Sam's eyes readjusted, he found himself frozen in terror.
Sam screamed as the whip cracked across his back, leaving a deep, burning welt.
"You have an interesting gift, Sam..."
Another crack of the whip tore another scream out of Sam, the boy falling into fits of sobs.
"By the time I break you, you should be fit to use." Bret brought his arm back and let the whip fly one more time, letting it cut deep into Sam's back before the boy finally fell into unconsciousness.
Again, I think you guys are going to kill me -_-
Constructive criticism is my friend! so be truthful!