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Sam smiled cruelly at Dean and he couldn't supress a small shudder that went through him. Was this what his father had been talking about, was this what he had failed to prevent. Failed, had he failed his baby brother? Was he dommed to have to watch all that he loved slip away?
Dean looked up at his little brother who was smiling down on him fingering the tip of the knife with his index finger. "You know I could cut off each one of your fingers, one by one, or I could just shove this knife here right through your ear. Then I wouldn't have to deal with your annoying self anymore." Dean didn't answer, couldn't, he wasn't even really listening blocking his brother's voice out with his favorite tunes running through his head. He knew that somehow this couldn't really be his Sammy, something was wrong, different.
Sam didn't seem to pleased with his brother's response, or lack there of. "It's not nice to ignore your brother Dean." He said in a deceptively calm voice. He gave a low animalistic growl and before Dean could react, even if it wouldn't have done any good, Sam violently plunged the knife into the center of Dean's left hand. The force behind the blow snapping the delicate bones of his hand in half as the knife drove straight through and into the wood of the chair.
Dean watched, detached as the mausuleum whited out and his brother dissappeared for a second before soming back in white hot clarity. He choked back a sob, god dammit, he had felt pain before, but god this was a whole new level. He was thankful for the gag that muffled his screams, god did he really scream like that?
Sam smiled at him and storked the knife gently, then wrapped his long slender fingers around the handle. Dean prepped himself for whatever his brother was planning on doing next, breathing deeply in through his nose, but before he was quite ready Sam jerked the knife to the right, then twisted it as he pulled it out.
"Ahhhmm!" That almost hurt more then when the knife had gone in. Why couldn't he just pass out already, pain made you pass out and he was in a whole freakin' lot of pain, so he felt he deserved to pass out.
"Felt good didn't it Dean? It was funny the way your face screwed up." He gave a trunkated laugh. "You know I bet if you looked like that all the time you wouldn't have so many chicks after you."
Dean wasn't really listening he was still trying to get a handle on the pain. It was so insistent radiating from his hand like it wanted all his attention. Well it had his undivided attention so why didn't it freakin' stop. He didn't even dare look down at it, afraid to see the damage, he already felt the blood pooling up and spilling over, like some sick waterfall.
"Look at me Dean, I'm talking to you." Dean didn't comply, he stared at his down eyes unfoucused, not really looking at anything. "I said look at me dammit!" Sam yelled kicking the chair Dean was bound to. It rocked pecariously for a minute, as if it was deciding if it was going to be able to stay up and keep it's occupant in place. It stopped rocking and Dean still didn't look up towards his brother. "I said look at me when I'm talking to you!" Sam grabbed his brother's chin in one hand and layed his other hand over Dean's injured one. It jerked invoulentarily at the contact, Sam smiled before squeexing the hand and jerking his Dean's chin so that he was looking into the eyes of his brother.
"Oottpp" He felt the bones grinding together, and the wound stretch futher open. There was a squeltching sound and Dean lost it right there, greatful that his body had finally had enough and passed out.
It seemed to Sam like he was a passenger inside his own body, but it wasn't like being possesed, that he barley remembered, only seeing what that bitch Meg had let him. This was different he saw everything and was achingly aware.
Sam felt detatched as he pulled a bottle of water from his duffle bag and unscrewed the cap getting ready to throw it over his harsh breathing brother. He couldn't believe that he wasn't only torturing his brother but he was yelling at him poking at issuses he knew would be painful for Dean, the only way to get to Dean is through me and the only way to get to me is through Dean, he thought grimly.
He was responsible for all the pain that his brother was feeling, he had stroke the blow that broke his brother's nose, he took the cattle prod and shoved it into his brother's side and watched with no outward emotions as he convulsed in pain on the ground, and god if he didn't have a flashback to that basement, his brother lying prone on the floor as the electricity coursed through him.
Then he had dragged his body to the tomb where they now resided, where he now stood staring at his brother's unconscious body. Dean's nose was swollen and crooked to the side, his under eyes already a dark black from the damage, his face a sickly pale and it made his under eyes look even darker. Sam didn't even want to look down at the damage he had done to his brother's hand, he could feel his brother's blood on his own hand, and he wanted to vomit at the thought of how he had made his brother scream.
Dean never screamed, god brother I am so sorry.
Dean came to sputtering cold, wet, shivering, and probably going into shock, it was funny how one wound could do that. He smiled and it even reached his eyes, he was delusional that must be it, being tortured by his baby brother, again had finally pushed him over the deep end.
"What's so funny Dean?" He hadn't even noticed Sammy, no this wasn't Sammy, couldn't be. Could it? God he didn't even know anymore. His whole freakin' life was so screwed to hell. "Dean. . . I asked a question, why don't you answer me? Do you not love me anymore? Am I not good enough for you. . . huh? Is that why you always go to bars and pick up cheap bimbos, because I'm not good enough for you to hang around."
"Rrissto" Dean tried to get out the word 'Christo' as clear and audible as he could.
Sam didn't seem to like it and he reeled back and punched Dean right in the gut, and if he didn't have enough problems before now he couldn't breathe.
Note to self, yelling 'Christo' at non - possesed bother, is a very bad idea.
"You know Dean if you spent more time with me and less time with all those bitches at the bar then you would know that I'm not possesed." He spat the word out like it was poison. "I have just finally become what I am meant to be. You failed me Dean, failed to save me.
Sam was shouting now and Dean couldn't stop smiling, Sam looked really funny when he got angry. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him. It was normal for him to laugh in the face of danger but this was really just ridiculous if he kept it up he was going to get killed before he could figure out a plan to get himself out of this situation. 'Cause he was Dean fucking Winchester badass extaorinair he could get out of any situation.
"You know I bet if - well maybe if you had a little something right here." Sam trailed the knife across his brother's face from his hairline, across his temple, under his right eye finally ending at Dean's nose. "Because I know people like you, who value their looks, they don't fear torture, they don't feel pain. What they fear most is disfigurement " He started to laugh.
Placing the blade back on his brother's skin he pressed it into his cheek just enough to draw blood, then pulled it back "No don't think even you could come up with a good back story to make someone sleep with you that kinda scaring. Come on Dean laugh this is funny!" Dean just stared defiantely into his little bother's eyes.
Sam smiled. Then the youngest Winchester drew his hand back and punched his brother right in the face. Dean's head snapped back with the force of the blow and everything greyed out for a second, damn his brother had fists like giant hams. Before he could even recover from the first blow, before his head had even righted itself, Sam came with another punch and two more just to be sure that Dean got the point. Point of what he wasn't sure but he wouldn't let Sam know that he wanted to keep what was left of his face in tact.
"Well Dean I don't know about you but I think we are finally getting some much needed quality time."
Dean's world was swaying, his vision sliding and his head spinning like the Disney Tea-cup ride gone wrong. Even though he had never actually been to Disney. Sam and his dad had though, they had been in Florida hunting a werewolf, Dean had gotten tossed down a well, yes a well, before his dad could waste it. Before they pulled him out Sam leaned his head in and said 'Hey Lassie told me Timmy was stuck in the well'. Dad had just loved that.
He ended up breaking his leg in three places, and dislocated his shoulder. He had been put on strict bed rest. During that time Sam's birthday had come and since they were stationary for the time being John had actually remembered and treated his kid to a trip to Disney World while Dean was back at the appartment doped up on pain meds.
He didn't resent it he was happy for his brother, he got to spend quality time with his father, and they had come home laughing dad wearing a Mickey t-shirt Sam wearing a goofy one, and Dean had discussed at length how Goofy was just like his little brother.
Dean looked up squiting through the haze that had descended over him to look at his brother, Sam was staring intently at a dull looking knife, and that in itself was strange because they didn't let knife's get dull. Sam was watching it as he held it under a lighter it started to glow red then orange as the orange glow deepened Sam pulled the knife away from the lighter and held it up like it was a prize or trohpy of some sort. He walked over to Dean and grabbed his head in a armlock.
"Now I can't quite remember that rule that dad taught us about playing with knifes outside a hunt." Sam shrugged his shoulders and pressed the dull, glowing blade into the side of Dean's face.
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