Chapter 7
AN: Hope you'll enjoy this chapter, it was supposed to be two separate chapters, but due to the shortness of the first, I decided to combine them.
Please note this chapter does contain violence and strong language!
John Winchester kicked out in frustration when he looked down at his truck. "Fucking unbelievable!" He shouted, no longer able to hold down the emotions that were building up inside of him. He had been pushing his truck to the max and hadn't noticed the broken shards of bottles and metal pieces strewn over the road. When the front wheel burst, John had to use all of his strength to regain control over the truck before getting it to a halt on the side of the road.
The Winchester luck didn't end there. He had no spare wheel. He was in the middle of nowhere, and the nearest town was about thirty miles back.
"Suck it up, Winchester," John told himself while making sure the lockdown box was closed and secured properly. He started running, heading back in the direction from which he'd come. He didn't even think of phoning his boys, he'd told Dean he would be there in seven hours, now he would be lucky if he made it home in ten.
00-O-00
Joshua was swearing under his breath. If he didn't know better he would have sworn that he had the Winchester luck on his side. Except everyone knew the Winchesters had no luck. The quicker he tried to get to the home base, the more problems he experienced. The latest - being pulled over by the local police. After getting a ticket, Joshua had to use all of his willpower when he pulled away, trying not to speed, at least until he knew the officer could no longer see him.
He was just speeding up when he saw a figure running alongside the road. The way the person moved made him realize that he knew who it was, and he came to an abrupt halt.
John could not believe his eyes when he saw Joshua's F250 skid to a halt next to him. "Josh, you are a sight for sore eyes! I never thought I would be so happy to see you." John slapped Josh on his shoulder.
"Winchester, what the hell? Your home is in the other direction and why are you running?"
"Long story my friend. Please tell me you've got a spare wheel that I could use."
"Sure, John, but what the heck, what is going on?" Joshua wanted to know urgently.
John knew his friend was no longer enquiring about the reason for him running alongside the road. He was asking about Sam. Just thinking of his baby boy made him shudder. "I don't know. Dean called, he was out of it. He just told me that Sam's missing. I couldn't get anything clearer out of him." John explained climbing into the truck.
"Well, let's get going. I assume you want to fix your truck first?" Joshua didn't wait for a reply, just stepped on the gas, heading in the direction John had just come from.
00-O-00
When Sam regained consciousness again he was no longer lying on the cold concrete floor but was instead tied to a not so comfortable chair. He was alone in the room he had woken up in earlier.
The only light was emanating from a single bulb hanging in the middle of the room. Not a very strong bulb, for which Sam was grateful. His head was killing him. His body also ached. The cuffs on his wrists were chafing against his skin and the rope binding him to the chair was tight over his chest, making it difficult to breathe.
Sam slowly turned his head, trying not to aggravate his pounding head. There was nothing else in the room except for a beam running across the centre of the room about six feet from the ground. There were chains attached at different intervals, and metal plates with hooks in them bolted to the floor.
The room also had no windows and the only exit door, which he sat facing, was solid steel with no handle on the inside. He had no way of getting out of this place.
He tensed up when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The small red light of a camera flickered in the corner. Taking a closer look he noticed that there were cameras in each corner, recording his every movement.
'Terrific, so now I'm on candid camera.' Sam started going over the events in his mind again. He was sure that he'd missed something. After a few moments, everything came back to him. It made him shuffle uncomfortably in his chair. 'I punched Michael, oh fuck! What have I done?' Sam cringed, thinking how he had injured one of his friends. He also remembered a girl. They had tried to kidnap her too. He had to find out what had happened to her.
He knew that with his hands cuffed he was going to have great difficulty getting the ropes loose around him. He would probably have to dislocate his thumbs to get out of the cuffs. Shit, that was going to hurt like hell. The joints would swell, not only making it more difficult to untie himself but also to fight his way out. He would just have to suck it up.
He started wiggling in his chair. It was sturdy, so the idea of toppling it over and breaking it flew out of the window – if only there were freaking widow! He became more frustrated, huffing out in anger when he couldn't loosen the ropes in any way. All he managed to do was work up a sweat. He realized at the same moment that he needed the bathroom too, trying unsuccessfully to take his mind of the growing pressure building in his bladder.
Sam tried to keep himself calm, trying to concentrate on one thing at a time. Unfortunately his bladder seemed to have other ideas. 'Well, let's see if we can get someone down here.' Sam turned his head, looking at the camera. Hey! Can you hear me? Come on man, who the hell are you? What do you want? I need to use the bathroom!" Sam shouted and then listens to hear if someone was coming.
Apparently not.
'Then I just need to get their attention in another way.' Sam started rocking back and forth, going faster, until he finally toppled over. He was lying on his back, groaning loudly. "Shit that hurt." His arms and hands were trapped beneath him and the chair.
"Great Winchester, just great!" Sam shouted. He started rocking again, flipping over to land on his left side. He grunted, knowing why the ropes felt so tight across his chest. His ribs were bruised.
Lying there, trying to catch his breath, he thought he heard a noise. He strained to hear, but there was nothing. He was just making himself ready to shout out again, when he heard the door opening behind him.
"What the fuck kid, can't you just shut the hell up! I am not here to baby sit your sorry ass the whole time!" Sam was pulled up roughly and saw the scared face of an older man before him.
"Where am I, what do you want? What did you do with the girl?" Sam asked all at once.
"I'm not here to give answers kid. My job is simple, make sure you keep on breathing and don't escape. Now shut the fuck up and sit still!" The man unexpectedly backhanded Sam across the face. Sam's head snapped back from the impact, feeling blood dribbling out of his already broken nose.
His temper flared, trying to push himself up as he growled in anger. "Untie me your son of a bitch! Try that one-on-one you coward!" Sam struggled against the ropes, eyes flashing with anger.
"Well, well that information was at least correct. You do have a temper on you, kid. My instructions may've been to make sure you keep breathing, but I ain't got no instructions on not teaching you any lessons. Boy, you need to respect your elders, and I'm just the man for the job." He growled, taking out a knife and slicing the side of Sam's face open.
Sam tried not to scream, but the pain was intense. He realized too late that it was a tactic in distracting him when he felt the ropes sliding off his body. He tried to get to his feet and move away, forgetting that his feet were tied and that he'd lost feeling in his limbs from being seated for so long, he could not get away quick enough.
He stumbled, fell over the overturned chair and then tried to scramble away. It was not enough. The man stepped over the chair, reached out and grabbed hold of Sam's shoulder roughly.
For the first time Sam noticed that the man had a belt in his hand, still struggling in vain to get away. "Keep still boy, the more you fight me, the more you'll get!" Those words made Sam struggle harder. There was just no way he was going to let this man hit him with that belt. Sam managed to turn, wiggling a few inches back. The man let out a laugh. "You'll never get away boy, you need to learn!" He grabbed hold of Sam, pinning him as he brought the belt down over Sam's side.
Sam bit on his lip trying to make sure that no sounds escaped his mouth. He would not let the man know the pain he felt. When the second stroke landed next to the first, Sam looked up in defiance, grunting, "You're gonna regret this, asshole."
Frank suddenly saw red, kicking at Sam in blind fury, until Sam was pressed against the wall, having nowhere further to go. Frank let the belt speak his anger. Hitting the boy over and over until his muscles protested in exhaustion.
Sam willed himself not to make any sounds as the lashes rained down on him. He tried to count the strokes but the pain made him lose count again and again. He was unaware that his whole body was quivering and just before he lost consciousness, he was moaning, pleading for the pain to stop.
Frank looked down at the unconscious body in front of him and smiled. Bending down he used his knife to cut the cable tie off, before retrieving the keys to the handcuffs, un-cuffing the boy and leaving him against the wall.
He stepped out of the room, returning with a fire hose before hosing Sam down. "The freak pissed himself, can't stand the smell of that." Frank muttered, not even noticing that the cold water had no effect on the boy in front of him.
After the hosing down, Frank returned with some chains, and with difficulty managed to chain Sam to the beam, securing his feet on the hooks that were protruding from the steel covers on the floor. Leaving the unconscious young man dangling in the middle of the room, Frank walked out, switching off the only source of light as he closed the door with a thud.
AN: Be warned, this is only the beginning of Sam's problems. Have a lookout on Sunday, there'll be more!
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