Author's Note: I realize this story's a little intense… It comes from a deep-seated fear I've had since childhood of human experimentation, so I guess I'm using Supernatural as an outlet for an old phobia. Poor Sam. Speaking of which, if you're squeamish around needles, consider yourself warned…
SPN
The two-way mirror overlooking the exam room required the lofty observation room to remain dark, or else Sam would see his spectators through the window (at least when he was lying face up). Not that he had very many spectators. Campbell was adamant about maintaining secrecy. Therefore, Dr. Visyak found herself watching alone, a look of disgust warping her pale face.
Biopsies were simple procedures, frequently employed to help doctors diagnose cancer. A local anesthetic would be used to dull the target area, and tissue samples would be removed straight from the body for analysis. Easy. Low risk. Pain free (more or less).
Except… Dr. Robert wasn't using a local anesthetic—why waste the resources? He was performing three biopsies, back-to-back, with no regard for Sam's objections, and he couldn't care less about the ethical dilemma. After all, the end justified the means. In the war against Eve, Sam's physiology could turn the tide. It could save humanity. It could save the world!
But Sam was just a child (at least in Dr. Visyak's ancient eyes), brought here against his will, and to top it all off, he was sick. Innocent and frail. He didn't belong anywhere near the compound, much less its monstrous population. He belonged in a hospital. And the longer Dr. Visyak dwelled on his predicament, the more determined she was to spare him. If she could.
Presently, Dr. Robert gripped a trephine—a surgical instrument with a cylindrical blade—and carefully selected a patch of skin on Sam's upper back. The boy squirmed, understandably agitated. To collect a full-thickness sample, Dr. Robert had to punch a hole all the way to the subcutaneous fat beneath the dermis, and without anesthesia… Yes. It would hurt. While Ethan carried the tray for Danielle, his hunting buddies flocked around Sam and held him down, restricting his movements. Dr. Robert made the perforation, and the boy flinched, obviously miserable.
Suddenly, the door opened behind Dr. Visyak, and Will Campbell entered the room. She didn't bother to acknowledge him, and thanks to the darkness, she didn't bother to hide her expression. Instead, she continued her silent vigil, watching as Danielle contained the skin sample while Dr. Robert sutured Sam's injury.
"Doctor…" Campbell crossed the distance between them and stood at her side, gazing down into the exam room. "Shouldn't you be working?"
She couldn't just ignore a superior, but neither could she confess her thoughts, so she faked an existential crisis. "He recognized me from his reality…" She filled her voice with quiet awe. "He called me a professor of medieval studies. Can you imagine? Me, in a room full of students? It really makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
He scoffed, having little patience for deep thoughts, but he didn't rebuke her, and that was something.
Meanwhile, Danielle began to clean Sam's skin for the muscle biopsy while Dr. Robert prepared the needle. It looked like they were aiming for the middle region of the trapezius. This one shouldn't be as painful. Just a few pricks. Still, Sam was breathing heavily, clenching his fists and pulling on his cuffs. Dr. Visyak couldn't blame him.
"I'm surprised the chief's not here," she commented, trying to sound casual while gauging her colleague's response.
"Why should he be?" Campbell asked, unfazed—at least on the surface. Dr. Visyak, a monster herself, had an ear for heart rates, and Campbell's heart skipped a beat. "The specimen's not his son. Not really. Why should he waste his time inspecting the treatment of a duplicate? Especially when he trusts us to do our jobs?"
Dr. Visyak shot the hunter a sidelong glance. He was full of it. "Naturally… I just assumed he'd want to see his son's physiology for himself. The specimen's a duplicate, yes, but they still share the same DNA." She wasn't personally acquainted with Mr. Winchester, but she knew his reputation. He loved his children, and he was fiercely protective. If Campbell notified him of Sam's presence, he would be here.
Down in the exam room, Dr. Robert proceeded with the biopsy. The needle sank deep into Sam's back. Ethan was smiling, and Dr. Visyak was grateful she couldn't hear their conversation.
"We don't pay you to make assumptions, doctor," Campbell said in a low, defensive voice. "We pay you to conduct research. Let me worry about the chief."
"Yes sir," she whispered, bowing her head. Damn… If she had to guess, the lying bastard wasn't making his reports. More than likely, Mr. Winchester had no idea Sam was on the compound.
They watched in silence for several minutes. Dr. Robert extracted the needle, and Danielle bandaged the entry wound on Sam's back. Then, they proceeded to contain the muscle sample. Next up was the bone marrow biopsy. Dr. Visyak stiffened as Paul Russell procured a pair of trauma shears from Ethan's tray. He snipped the waistband of Sam's jeans and pulled them down just far enough to expose the Posterior Iliac Crest of Sam's pelvic bone. When Dr. Robert was ready, he began palpating the area. Danielle offered him a sterile fine-tip marker, and he carefully drew some landmarks directly on Sam's skin.
Dr. Visyak couldn't stomach this. Bone marrow biopsies were never pleasant, and without anesthesia, they might as well be torture. "Excuse me, Mr. Campbell," she said, backing away from the observation window. "I should return to the lab." Without waiting for a response, she spun on her heel and fled.
SPN
As Danielle smeared an antiseptic solution over the back ridge of his pelvis, Sam couldn't help but whimper through his gag. Yes, he had a high tolerance for pain, and these medical tests would never compare to the cage, but it wasn't just the abuse. It was also the humiliation, objectification, and helplessness. Most of all, it was Dean's absence. His brother wouldn't be able to find him, much less rescue him. He was alone.
The hunters began repositioning themselves around his body, holding down his rump, his legs, and his upper back—taking care to avoid his injuries. They didn't mind hurting him, but right now, their jobs were to prevent him from moving. Meanwhile, Dr. Robert approached Ethan to restock the tray in his hands. From Sam's angle, he didn't have a clear vantage point to see which tools they'd be using, but that was probably a good thing.
"Okay, Sam," Dr. Robert said in a soothing voice. "This shouldn't take more than a few minutes. We're going to extract some bone marrow—the spongy tissue inside your bone. You'll experience some sharp pain, and I strongly suggest you hold still. Take deep breaths, and think pleasant thoughts."
Yeah, right…
Ethan jumped at the opportunity to tease him. "Just pretend you're taking a nice, warm, relaxing bath."
"I've been waiting a long time to drown you…"
Sam shuddered, trembling despite himself. His natural instincts were to fight, to go down swinging, to make life as difficult as possible for these sons of bitches, but in this case, resistance would be counterproductive. As Dr. Robert mentioned earlier, he'd only be hurting himself. And since he couldn't do anything to stop them, he might as well calm down, endure the pain, and minimize the damage. Dean would understand, right?
If only he could stop shaking…
"Here we go," Dr. Robert said, making a small incision at the entry point. Compared to the skin and muscle biopsies, it barely stung, but they were just getting started. Sam bit down on his gag, bracing himself. A moment later, he felt the massive biopsy needle slide through the entry point… felt it brush up against the bone. Crap.
Dread coursed through his body, and his breathing hitched. He squeezed his eyes shut, and for some foolish reason, he pictured Lucifer. Maybe focusing on the cage would make this ordeal seem mild by comparison.
Dr. Robert began advancing the needle almost like a corkscrew, twisting vigorously to drill through the bone.
Nope.
The pain was excruciating, and Sam couldn't hold back a muffled sob.
"It's okay," the doctor purred, feigning sympathy. "You're going to be just fine." He paused… then advanced… then paused… then advanced. Sam felt the needle grinding deeper and deeper… felt his heart racing… his muscles spasming… his nerves screaming…
"Take it easy, love," Danielle advised. "We need you to lie still."
The hunters were holding him steady, so his obedience didn't matter, but all the same, he found himself struggling to comply for fear of making it worse.
"Aww…" Ethan crooned. "You're so cute when you're submissive, Sam."
Once the needle was firmly in place, Dr. Robert made several adjustments with his tools. Sam couldn't see what he was doing, and the suspense left him breathless. How much longer?
A sudden pressure preceded a piercing sting. The pain was blinding, and the hunters were all that kept Sam from writhing in agony. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and terrified whimpers escaped his gag.
"Good boy," Dr. Robert said, obviously pleased. "Let's get one more sample."
No! No! No! No!
The needle sank in deeper, and Sam's world began to spin.
Another stab, and everything went dark.
SPN
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