Moby Dick's Bong Continued...
Rusty finally releases his grip on Sam. Sam had stopped struggling a minute prior and had been lax in his choke hold. He didn't want to kill the boy he just wanted to make sure he'd be down for the count for a while. He stands tall, giving the youngest Winchester a slight shove. Sam falls slowly to the gravel road, his body limp he lands in an awkward position with his hands and arms beneath him, his buttocks slightly raised in the air. Rusty snickers and gives him a not so gently kick, forcing Sam to roll over onto his side.
His eyes immediately shift to Dean. He can see his arms stretched out over his head from where he's standing. The Impala's front wheel is blocking his view of the rest of his body. He appears to be unconscious. He bends down and picks up his trusty tire iron, just in case. He paces over to Dean and stands over him. "You awake?" He gives Dean's lower back a swift shove with his shoe, getting no response. "You don't talk to me I'll kill your brother right now."
Nothing.
He bends down and rolls Dean over with his free hand. "Shit Fred, what did you do to the poor bastard?"
He stands back up and sets the tire iron on the hood of the Impala. Reaching into his front pant's pocket he pulls out his cell phone and begins to dial. He glances down at Dean while he waits for the person on the other end to pick up.
"It's me." There is a pause. "Yeah, Fred. I done like you asked." Another pause. "No, it wasn't no trouble at all. I thought you said you only hurt one of them?" Another pause as he glances over towards Sam. "The taller one seemed fine. I was getting ready to take him out and he just collapsed. I think there is something wrong with the fella." He glances back over to Dean. "You sure you want me to do this? He seems pretty hurt already I think you proved your point." He rolls his eyes at the phone. "No, Fred. I said I'd do it. It's not a problem. I'm not chickening out. I owed you one. Now we are even... yeah okay well I gotta go clean this mess up before someone sees me. It is still daylight." He nods his head at the phone. "I remember the plan." He hangs up and takes a heavy sigh as he shoves it roughly back into his pocket.
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Sam regains consciousness with a heavy gasp. He instantly begins coughing hard. His throat is hoarse and on fire. He's on his side surrounded by complete darkness. He begins to try to rub his throat and realizes his hands are tied behind his back. "Crap," he groans, his voice sounding just as rough as it feels. He lifts his head off the rough cold metal surface it's been resting on, instantly regretting it as it bounces hard back down.
Shit. They must have just hit a bump. From the rumbling beneath him and all the movement he's suddenly aware exactly where he is... and just exactly how much deep shit he's in. "Dean?" He slowly wiggles his restrained hands behind his back, scooting inch by inch till he's up against another cold metal wall. "Dean? Please talk to me man?" He begins to roll forward. After a few rolls he comes up empty. Now he's even more worried. "FUCK!" He curses. Why the hell would this lunatic driver snag him and not Dean? Dean was the one they wanted wasn't he? Unless... oh shit. What if these weren't just humans? What if they wanted Sam all along? His mind begins asking him five hundred questions that he just doesn't have the answers for. Maybe Dean was right. He shouldn't have shot his mouth off and told Ellen that he had 'powers'. The second other hunters knew he was not exactly normal, there was a damn good chance they'd turn on him and hunt him. Was that it?
His frantic thoughts are interrupted by a groan across the semi trailer. He'd recognize that groan anywhere. "Dean!" He finds himself grinning in the dark. Given their circumstances he shouldn't be but he's just so happy his brother is with him. He'll get them out of this. He always does.
Another low moan and Dean is retching. It sounds excruciating.
"You okay? DEAN! Where are you?"
The vomiting continues, or the dry heaves, because neither one of them has ate anything in a while and Dean had to of vomited up anything he had in his stomach earlier.
Sam begins to roll towards the direction of the horrible sounds. His head is still pounding but he's ignoring it the best he can. Finally at the very tip of the semi trailer he rolls into Dean's legs. The bastard must have took his time putting Sam all the way in the back and just hoisted his brother up and tossed him in before closing shop. Maybe help was coming and he was rushed? Sam finds himself begging Ash silently that he put that damn Moby Dick's bong down and came looking for them anyway. They could sure use a calvary.
Dean's on his hand and knees tossing his cookies and after Sam rolls into him he leans up and reaches out with a shaky hand and takes a hold of Sam's arm. "Thank God you are okay," he gasps before making a disgusting noise with his throat and spitting a few times.
So maybe he was rushed. He didn't bother tying Dean up.
"Dean? What the hell happened? I felt like I was... dunno... caught between reality and a vision. I was having one and the second I snapped out of it I was in it."
Dean eases up a second then falls back against the semi trailer door, trying to regain control of his stomach.
"Dunno Sam... you just kind of fell onto your knees into another one of your things and... I'm sorry..." he coughs a few times, wishing like hell he could manage his injuries. Sam begins to roll closer to him. "No no no..." Dean puts his hand back out and with what energy he has, maneuvers Sam to his right side into a sitting position next to him. Or at least tries to or thinks he helped, but with the little gesture Sam manages it mostly on his own
"Trust me... don't want to roll that way." Dean bites out, using his good arm to cradle his busted one. He could sure use a stiff drink about now. Where are those nurses trained to give gentle sponge baths?
"Ahhh, sorry for what?" Sam sits shoulder to shoulder with Dean, tipping his head back to relieve the throbbing.
"Passed out on ya Sam. I tried..."
"Ahh, don't blame yourself. Question is... why did he go through all the trouble to tie me up and didn't bother with you?"
Dean's quiet.
"Dean?"
"Huh? Where you saying something?"
"Dean?"
"Sorry, Sam, my head it's..."
"Sorry too," Sam grunts.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Guess...maybe he felt bad... my arms broke and all."
"Yeah, right. Or maybe he was rushed into getting on the road? We were both out of it," Sam suggests.
Dean's quiet again.
"Dean?"
"Yeah, sorry, Sammy. All my fault..."
"Dean, please, stop blaming yourself for this okay? It's nobody's fault but these sick bastards and they will pay for this. We will get out of this! We always do." Sam leans his head down to rest on Dean's.
"If I can just... rest my eyes for a while... wake me when we stop moving, K? I'll make them pay," Dean's head slumps onto Sam's shoulder. His breathing instantly begins to narrow out.
Sam begins bitting nervously on his bottom lip. "Yeah. Sure."
He listens to Dean's breathing for five minutes when the truck begins to brake. Shit. It comes to a complete halt. If Dean was awake he could fix this. But he's not.
TBC...