FROM BAD TO WORSE

DISCLAIMER:
You know the rules; I own no rights at all to do with SUPERNATURAL!

AUTHORS NOTES:
Sorry that I never answered your reviews, being a little tied up with RL at the moment, I thought it best to concentrate my spare time on writing chapter 10 rather than answering your kind reviews. That said all reviews are appreciated and I will try to find the time to answer all reviews (that come through to my inbox) of this chapter.

Now on with the story, the rescue of Dean is underway, but as we all know things never go easy for the Winchester's. Enjoy!

Thanks as always to my beta msokiedokie.

Chapter 10

Rae-Anne crept down the stairs avoiding the one step that gave a load creak when any weight was put on it, reaching the bottom she peeked into the lounge room; the room reeked of a combination of neglect, musty dampness, sweat and sour bourbon. Daddee was asleep on the threadbare and torn sofa a nearly empty bottle of Jack cradled between his arm and his side, one leg dangling over the edge his booted foot touching the floor; loud snores emanating from his parted lips. He was wearing green eyes' watch, having claimed it after they had stripped it from him along with everything else. Her latest captive's clothes and boots were discarded in an untidy pile on the floor in the corner, to be buried with him later, as all the clothing from the other two had been. His keys, knife, skull bracelet and strange necklace were on the wobbly dresser to her right.

This was what her Daddee did 6 nights out of 7 he passed out in a drunken stupor in the very same spot, very rarely was his bed slept in. It was what Rae-Anne wanted, it was her opportunity to sneak into the barn to see her beautiful, green-eyed but damaged by her own hand captive, she hoped to find him still living and not yet dead from blood loss or strangulation. She wanted to see him one more time before she turned in to see if he had regained his senses, she wanted to torment him some more.

She lifted the brown leather cord attached to pendant from the dresser, running her grimy fingers over the odd brass horned creature wondering what it represented. As she went to return it to the dresser she hesitated and then slipped the leather cord over her head. The heavy brass pendant lay nestled against her breastbone between her tiny breasts. If Daddee can have his watch and his knife I can have his necklace.

----- FBTW -----

The sound of boots squelching across the muddy track between the house and the barn drew closer.

Sam was sitting in the shadows to one side of the barn doors, his arms wrapped tightly around Dean, holding him against his chest; Dean's head lay nestled against his shoulder, his face turned towards Sam's neck. Sam could feel his warm breath on his throat, which was followed by a wheezing crackle as he labored to inhale. Keep breathin' bro. Sam moved his left hand from around Dean's chest and placed it along the left side of his forehead.

Where before Dean had been ice cold heat radiated off him, moisture or blood or a combination of both soaked into Sam wherever their bodies touched, the heat where he touched Dean's head burned into his palm. Sam welcomed the searing pain a reminder that he had his brother back so he tightened his grip. Now that I've found you I'm not letting go, ever.

The footsteps stopped outside the barn. Sam glanced over at Mike; he was on the other side of the doors, back pressed up to the boards, his gun drawn and ready.

The door on Mike's side started to open in dragging stages; they could hear the grunts from the person on the other side as they fought to open it.

As a slightly built figure slipped through the gap, a high-pitched voice rang out through the barn. "You awake green eyes?"

Before the words had barely left her mouth Mike grabbed her from behind, wrapping his gun arm around her throat while the other one clamped down over her mouth, promptly cutting off anything else she would have said. "Thanks for the wakeup call, but you've got me mixed up with someone else, you see my eyes are brown." Mike said as he twisted his hand and pushed the muzzle of the gun against the side of her head.

Sam disentangled himself from Dean and laid him down gently on his side on the ground.

Using his hips and knees Mike nudged Rae-Anne forward into the center of the barn, muffled whimpering coming from beneath Mike's hand. She clawed at Mike's arm, trying to loosen his hold.

Sam found a pile of oily filthy rags beside the old dodge, grabbing one off the top he moved in front of Rae-Anne who was now under the pulley. He held the rag up in front of her face, Mike removed his hand from her mouth, before she could draw a breath to scream or cry out Sam pushed the rag into her mouth, he pulled it tight between her lips and tied it tightly around the back of her head, tighter than was necessary.

While Mike continued to hold her Sam picked up the discarded manacles pulled one of her arms from Mike's arm slapped the manacle on her skinny wrist, quickly following with the other wrist as she tried to pull her hand out of Sam's grip. Mike released her; she fell to her hands and knees sobbing around the dirty gag.

Mike was already pulling the chain up through the pulley, it pulled tight and she had no choice but to stand, Mike hooked the chain over the metal peg and twisted it around a couple of times, her feet were just beginning to lift off the floor, the toes of her scuffed dirty boots brushing the ground, which was kinder than how she tied Dean.

Sam stood in front of her he leaned in bringing his furious face close to hers. "You little bitch; you do that to my brother?" Sam gestured at Dean lying pale and silent behind him.

Her colorless eyes slid to Dean and back to Sam's face. Sobbing into the rag, tears running down her cheeks she shook her head.

Sam was breathing heavy from anger, he drew back his hand to slap her, but Mike grabbed his wrist. "Don't Sam, I'll make sure she gets what's coming to her," Mike looked into Sam's eyes, then added, "I promise."

Sam looked at Mike and he knew he would keep his word; Sam gave a curt nod of his head. Mike let his hand go and Sam dropped it to his side. He spared Rae-Anne one more look, something else caught his eye, she had something around her neck, something that didn't belong to her, Dean's amulet.

His anger rekindled Sam grasped the amulet and yanked down, pulling the knot in the leather cord loose. She whimpered louder. I hope it hurt like a son of a bitch. Giving Rae-Anne a look of such fury she visibly cringed back closing her eyes, he squeezed his hand around the amulet barely aware of the horns piercing his palm.

"Sam I'm going to the house to find Gracie and bring Wade back here, then we're gonna get Dean out of here and to some help," Sam didn't answer but continued to stare at Rae-Anne. Mike shook his shoulder, "Sam you stay here watch her and take care of Dean, okay?"

Sam shoved the amulet deep into his jeans pocket and turned away from Rae-Anne, nodded at Mike, saying. "Yeah alright," he looked over at Dean, "hurry."

Mike followed Sam's gaze, then went to the door and peered out, seeing no movement from the house he slipped through the gap and ran towards the light streaming from the back door.

----- FBTW -----

After Mike had slipped through the door, Sam knelt down beside Dean, looking at his brother's slack pale face Sam felt a moment of panic, he looked…….

No, please, no Dean no. "Don't you dare!" Sam placed his trembling palm against Dean's forehead, to Sam's surprise and delight, Dean's eyelids fluttered; thank God. Dean gave a low pain-filled groan before slowly turning his face towards Sam, as if some inbuilt radar had honed in on his little brother's nearness.

At that moment Sam forgot about Rae-Anne and Wade, Mike, the barn, the werewolf, everything. There was just Dean.

"Dean hey Dean, I'm here it's me Sammy, I got you."

Sam wasn't sure Dean could hear him; until he said in a voice so quiet and rough Sam had to lean close to hear when he said. "Please…, stop…, don't…, no more." Finishing on another labored breathe.

The whispered croaky words brought tears to Sam's eyes. "It's alright no one's gonna hurt you anymore." Sam said through his tears, stroking Dean's hot damp forehead.

Dean's eyelashes fluttered again but this time they opened a slit, even in the darkness of the barn Sam could see the glitter of fever in them. Although Dean appeared to be looking at him, Sam didn't think he saw him. Dean was panting as he continued in the same strained rough voice. "Ss… am, should have… listened, I… I let you down…, sorry." The last word came out as pained gasp.

Sam's tears came faster spilling down his cheeks dripping off his chin and onto his jacket Dean had on. "No Dean, no, don't say that, you never let me down, ever, I'm the one who should be sorry, sorry I got sick, sorry I didn't find you sooner, sorry you had to spend your life looking out for me, sorry for everything." Sam's breath hitched as he stuttered to a stop.

Dean's voice sounded again. "Sammy?" it sounded like a question. Was Dean aware that he was here?

"Yeah Dean I'm here."

"Sammy…, you okay?"

Sam gave a hitching laugh. "Yeah Dean I'm good."

"Mmmm." Dean's eyes slid closed and he slipped away again.

----- FBTW -----

Through the pain and darkness that gripped him, Dean thought he heard Sam's voice. Then something oddly comforting was placed against his forehead. How can Sam be here? Although any movement caused pain he instinctively turned his head towards the voice, making a valiant effort to open his eyes, but not succeeding.

Dean heard more words but could not hear what was been said. Oh God no, please don't let it be her. In a voice that kind of sounded like his and yet didn't he heard himself say. "Please…, stop…, don't…, no more." I'm begging. This is what I've been reduced to a begging, quivering lump of useless, pulped battered flesh.

The comforting thing resting against his forehead began a gentle stroking, and that voice he imagined the one that sounded like Sam, like Sam when he was upset, said. "It's alright no one's gonna hurt you anymore."

Dean forced his uncooperative eyes open; at least he thought they were open although all he saw was swirling varying shades of darkness. Might as well talk to imaginary Sam. "Ss… am, should have… listened, I… I let you down…, sorry." The last word came out as a gasp as pain lanced through him.

Imaginary Sam said in a choking tear filled voice. "No Dean, no, don't say that, you never let me down, ever, I'm the one who should be sorry, sorry I got sick, sorry I didn't find you sooner, sorry you had to spend your life looking out for me, sorry for everything." Imaginary Sam gave a breathy hitch on the last word and stuttered to a stop.

Could Sam really be here? He sounds so near and so real, like I could reach out and touch him, if I had the strength. Maybe, just maybe Sam found me and he really is here, here goes nothing. "Sammy?" That's the same voice that sounds a little like me.

"Yeah Dean I'm here."

It is Sam, if only I could see him. "Sammy…, you okay?" He said in the direction of really here Sam and into the darkness.

Sam gave a hitching laugh. "Yeah Dean I'm good."

"Mmmm." Dean let his sightless eyes slide closed and he let himself slip away. I can go now I know Sam's okay.

----- FBTW -----

Mike systematically checked every room he came to. He found Wade passed out on the sofa. He left him there and went in search of Gracie, he searched upstairs and down. There was no sign of her anywhere, nothing; it was as if she didn't exist.

Completing his search Mike went back to the lounge room stood over the man who had stolen the love of his life. He looked down at Wade in disgust; the smell seeping out of his pores was a mixture of unwashed dirty body and stale alcohol; it turned Mike's stomach. This, this was what Gracie settled for?

He kicked at Wade's leg hanging off the sofa, saying. "Hey, wake up sleeping beauty," Wade snorted through his nose and his eyes blinked open, his head turned towards Mike, squinting up at him, "Get up." Mike said menace lacing every word.

Wade's eyes opened wide when he realized he looked down the barrel of Mike's gun. "What the hell you doing in my house?" He sat up and swung his legs off the sofa. The bottle of bourbon he had beside him falling to the floor, the last of the amber liquid dribbling out onto soaked up in the filthy carpet.

"My job, something I should have done years ago," Mike said as he took a step back, "where's Gracie?"

"Maybe you should tell me?" Wade sneered back as he stared up at Mike.

"Cut the crap, where is she?"

Wade cast his eyes down, before answering. "Gracie left me."

Mike lifted the muzzle of the gun pointing it between Wade's eyes. "I don't believe you, what did you do to her, tell me where she is." Mike's tone was low and menacing.

Wade met Mike's eyes and yelled back at him. "I'm telling the truth, she just left, a couple of months ago; I don't know where she is," He looked at Mike's stunned expression then added, "I thought she went to you."

"Well she didn't." Mike reached out and grasped Wade's arm, pulling him to his feet. "Get up, move."

Wade had the sense to look nervous. "Where are you taking me?"

"The barn, now move."

----- FBTW -----

The moon now high overhead bathed the two men coming slowly towards the barn in silver. Sam watched from outside the door as at gunpoint Mike led a large man which Sam knew must be Wade towards him. Suddenly Wade stumbled and went down onto his hands and knees.

Mike gave him a less than friendly nudge with the toe of his boot, saying. "Get up."

Wade climbed it seemed to Sam laboriously to his feet. Suddenly with a speed deceptive of his size he turned towards Mike and hurled a fist full of mud into Mike's face.

Stunned and blinded by the move, Mike stumbled back a step reaching up to his eyes to wipe away the mud, his gun wavered his aim on Wade faltered. Again with deceptive speed Wade took off at a run heading up the side of the house. It happened so fast, before Mike could recover or Sam could pull a gun from his belt aiming at the retreating figure he disappeared around the front of the house.

"Damn it." Sam said as he started to give pursuit. Still swiping at his eyes Mike waved him back with his gun taking off in the direction Wade had taken, throwing over his shoulder."Get Dean out of here."

He didn't need to be told twice he went back into the barn; ignoring the whimpering Rae-Anne he went to Dean taking his arms, "Come on bro we're outta here."

He pulled him into a sitting position, Dean's eyes flew open on a sharp intake of breathe. He said in the same scratchy pained voice. "Sam wha' doin'? Hurts."

Dean was pulled from the smothering darkness, pain shooting through every inch of his body as he was pulled into a sitting position. He could see now and although Sam had said he was good he looked far from it. Liar! "Sam wha' doin'? Hurts."

Sam realized that Dean was actually seeing him now. "I'm gonna carry you outta here, get you some help."

Dean pushed at him weakly, no way. "I… can… walk."

"Yeah sure you can, you're in bad shape Dean how far do you think you can get without falling flat on your face?" Sam reached for him again.

Dean batted at Sam's hands with very little strength but with great determination. "No Sam… wanna walk… out…, please."

The last whispered words made Sam falter. He looked into Dean's pale, bruised and bloody face and then into his eyes. In the glittering green depths he saw a gamut of emotions, pain, fear, humiliation, frustration and something else, strength of will and determination, two classic Dean Winchester traits. Sam understood, he understood his brother all too well. Dean had to do this he had to walk out of this barn this place of so much physical and mental torment on his own feet. Only problem being Sam didn't think Dean was physically capable of taking one step let alone the five or six steps it would take to get to the door especially with that knee and mangled ankle.

Sam compromised. "Alright, but let me help you or the deal is off, you're too weak to fight me and you know it."

Dean closed his eyes and gave a slight nod of his head, mumbling under his breath. "Bossy much."

Sam smiled to spite his concern. "Learned from an expert."

----- FBTW -----

Dean batted Sam's hands away. "No Sam… wanna walk… out…, please." Dean hated the pleading note in his voice. He looked up into Sam's hazel eyes. Dean hoped Sam understood his need to do this. He'd suffered so much in this damned barn. To walk outta here would be a victory over these evil cruel people. A small victory but a victory none the less. I hope I can follow through.

Dean saw it in his brother's eyes Sam understood where he was coming from, but he wasn't happy about it. "Alright, but let me help you or the deal is off, you're too weak to fight me and you know it." Dean was waiting for Sam to wag his finger at him.

Dean closed his eyes in relief and gave a small nod it was all he could manage. "Bossy much." He mumbled.

He almost heard Sam smile. "Learned from an expert."

Sam never ceased to be amazed by his brother, with Sam's help Dean somehow managed to gain his feet.

Dean didn't know what was worse the first slight weight he dared to put on his damaged legs and feet, or Sam's supporting arm wrapping around the pulped flesh of his back. Pain shot through him from every direction stealing his breath and almost sending him back into darkness. God this walking thing was even worse than the last time I tried it. Of course then he'd only had the mashed ankle, now he had a knee that felt shattered and ten times its normal size, not to mention the rifle butt to the head and nearly strangling to it hadn't been for Sam's support he would have collapsed back the barn floor. Dean felt Sam's grip on the hand of the arm he had draped across Sam's shoulders tighten, trying to impart encouragement and some of his strength into him to keep going.

Taking as deep a breath as his struggling body would allow, he took a small step forward. Okay that's the first one.

Somehow they made it to the open door, staggering and stumbling, it seemed to take an age. They were two baby steps outside the door when Dean went down. He just sort of folded up like a deck of cards to spite Sam's efforts to keep him from getting acquainted with the mud, bringing Sam down with him.

Sam looked down at Dean's face in the moonlight, he looked so ill, Sam stomach clenched with a mixture of anxiety and sickness.

Mike dropped down beside them, he was alone, Wade had gotten away. "How's he doin'?" He asked looking down at Dean.

"Not good, help me with him, while he's unconscious, it'll be easier that way, on him anyway." Sam began tugging on Dean's arm.

Soon they had him once again hanging between them; they decided to go via the track than through the trees, even though it was longer it would be easier with them supporting the injured Dean.

"What happened to Wade?" Sam asked breathlessly as they negotiated a bend in the track.

"I lost him in the trees," Mike was breathing heavy. Damn Dean you're heavy, "Maybe the werewolf will find him." He finished.

"Lucky the werewolf didn't find you."

Mike glanced at Sam across Dean. "I had my gun."

"Yeah but I got the silver bullets."

"Silver bullets, good point."

The mud pulled at their shoes, slowing their progress as they continued on.

From the direction of Dean came a scratchy voice. "Killed it."

Sam and Mike stopped dead, surprised that Dean was conscious, both looking at the back of Dean's bowed head and then at each other. "Killed what, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Were… wolf."

"You found the gun it hadn't been fired, he's delirious, Sam."

Sam had to lean close to hear as Dean whispered shaking his head weakly. "Not gun… silver knife."

"You killed it with a silver knife?" Sam asked.

Dean went limp in their arms, causing their knees to bend; all three sank to the ground in a graceless heap.

Sam looked down at his brother, again amazed by the man lying so pale and still in the mud.

"He couldn't have… could he?" Mike ventured tentatively.

"If Dean said he killed it, he killed it." Sam answered rather forcefully. Forgetting that Mike didn't know Dean all that well.

The howl of a large canine animal echoed to them, it sounded like it had come from the direction they had come from.

Sam and Mike both looked back down the track in that direction then spoke simultaneously. "Two werewolves?"

TBC

So now Sam and Mike know there is second werewolf, and poor Dean's not out of the woods yet (pardon the pun). Hands up all who think they know who the second werewolf is. The clues are all there, in the earlier chapters.

Thanks for reading, all reviews are welcome.