AN: Sorry this chapter is a few hours late! Midnight came a lot faster than what I was expecting. I feel like I'm buried up to my ears in Psychology journals trying to write this paper. But posting the new chapter has given me an excuse to take a much needed break :)

So here it is. We're getting down to the nitty gritty with the story. Things are going to be pretty action-y for the next few chapters. Hope you enjoy. I look forward to hearing your thoughts! Also, here is your first little taste of Hurt!Sam. Much more to come next chapter.

Chapter 10: Calling Dr. Cavenaugh

Dean dozed on and off throughout the night, trying to keep an eye on things and watch out for the crazy bitch who was now in possession of his and Sam's knives. Sam followed a similar pattern, trying like hell to come up with an escape plan. Unfortunately, the locks and cages were solid, they had no weapons, and it was pitch black. It looked like there was no getting out of this one. At least not without a bit of outside help or some extreme luck. Or both.

The blinding halogen lights came on early the next morning. Checking his watch, Dean groaned. She couldn't have at least let us sleep past nine? Not that he had actually slept much to begin with but that wasn't the point.

As the minutes ticked by, more and more of the kidnapping victims were pulled out of their half-sleeping haze.

"So, how long do we have before she gets her Dr. Jeckyll/Mrs. Hyde on?" Dean asked no one in particular.

"Depends," Brandon answered. "Sometimes she'll be down right away, other times it will be a few hours before she makes it down here."

"Great. Well, I'm making a break for it as soon as she opens this thing," Dean said, determined to get out of the mess he and Sam had found themselves in.

"Watch it, man," Eric began with a cautionary tone. "Those Melonheads follow her around and obey her every word like trained attack dogs. I'm sure you noticed last night, but they're also a lot stronger than they look."

Dean wanted to make a smart comment about Eric taking on the role of Captain Obvious, but he held his tongue. The guy had been through enough, Dean had no right to jump down his throat, dire situation or not.

"Dean?" Sam called out quietly.

"Yeah Sam?"

"For once, I can honestly say, I wish I was short like you," he replied with a laugh.

"Living quarters getting a little cramped there, Sammy?"

"That's the understatement of the century. So what's the plan?"

Dean lowered his voice slightly, suddenly fearful of any unauthorized listeners that might have been around, and turned to look at his brother through the iron bars. "Well, I don't know who she's gonna want to play doctor with first, but regardless, if you get away, I want you to run for the door. Get out of here as fast as you can and call for help. Get whoever you can to come out here ASAP."

"But Dean, I can't just leave all of you here."

Dean knew Sam would probably question the order, and he was prepared for it. "That's exactly what you're gonna do." He watched as his brother tried to protest again, but caught him before he could say anything. "Sam, how exactly do you plan on fighting off the Melonheads and their fearless leader with no weapons while unlocking our cages at the same time?"

The silence gave Dean the answer he was looking for. He understood where Sam was coming from. He wouldn't want to leave his brother either, or anyone else for that matter. But it wouldn't do any good to stay and try and play the hero if all it would do was get him killed. If that happened, there wouldn't be hope for anyone. "Any idea where she keeps the contraband?" Dean asked hopefully, glancing down the row to the others.

His question was met with silence and the shaking of heads. Damn, he really needed to get a hold of that machete. Hacking off the heads of those things would bring him nothing but pleasure.

"Probably upstairs," Paige said, slipping her small hand through the bars of the cage to capture her brother's fingers waiting on the other side.

Dean nodded, trying to figure out a way to get up there without being stopped prematurely. Then again, that didn't really matter if he couldn't find a way out of the cage to begin with.

Suddenly, the door to the basement opened. Each prisoner turned their head towards the stairs and listened intently for the footsteps of Ginny Cavenaugh.

Sam and Dean could hear the creaking of the old wooden stairs under her feet, as well as the feet of who knew how many Melonheads. Dean glanced through to the other room and saw Ginny as she reached the bottom.

"Good morning," she said sweetly. She swiftly made her way over to the metal tables in the next room and began to, well, prepare them. Dean's eyes widened as he counted no less than six Melonheads mimicking their leader and preparing supplies. She pulled the stained scalpel from the sink and began to wash it while the others pulled fresh tools from the cabinets. Once she was satisfied with their work, Ginny turned and stood in the doorway, gazing at her hostages, one Melonhead pasted to her side.

"I hope you found your accommodations comfortable," she said, an evil glint appearing in her eyes.

"Actually, I was kind of hoping for a mint on my pillow, but I guess you get what you pay for," Dean replied without missing a beat.

The smaller Melonhead standing beside her shot a guttural growl in Dean's direction. Ginny patted it on the head. "Don't worry, you'll get your chance." She took a few steps closer. "As a matter of fact, the activities on the agenda for today could really work with either of our newcomers so I'm even going to let you pick who we start with."

The Melonhead looked up at her, waiting for some sort of instruction.

"Go ahead, honey. Take your pick."

The thing walked up to the cages, causing Sam and Dean to involuntarily move back defensively. It studied both of them before pointing a thin, discolored finger in Sam's direction. It was then that realization hit the boys like a ton of bricks. This particular Melonhead had a circular patch of discolored skin in the middle of its chest and beside that, a 'Sam's knife' sized wound that was partially stitched up. This was the Melonhead he and Sam had fought in the woods. And it was pissed.

"Well Sam," she sneered, "Looks like you're lucky number one today." She turned around and addressed her minions. "Two, Eight, Nine, and Ten. Why don't you subdue our newest guest and get things all ready for him."

Two tall creatures and one short one stepped forward to follow her instructions. She held her hand out and dropped the master key into the hands of one of the creatures while the others gathered various tools.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on him," Dean said with as much anger as he could muster.

She simply laughed in return. "I hardly think you're in the position to be making demands right now, boy."

The lock on Sam's cage was unlocked and within a split second, he was reacting. He attempted to kick back as hard as he could to knock down the things that were trying to take him down, but it was no use. They were ready for him.

Oddly enough, Sam's brute strength was no match for the unnatural strength of the four Melonheads together. One of them moved in while the other three held Sam down. Sticking a thin, hypodermic needle into Sam's neck, it injected whatever the clear fluid was inside the syringe and within a few seconds, Sam quit fighting back.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" Dean hollered with rage, banging his fist on the side of the cage.

"Oh, cool your jets, Kojak. It's just a sedative. I wouldn't want him hurting my precious babies any more than he already has."

Dean stared in disbelief as Sam's limp body was dragged across the floor and hoisted on to the metal table. Ginny made quick work of strapping his head, legs, and arms into the restraints and draping an additional strap across his hips.

"You know what to do," she said to the creatures, heading back towards the stairs. "I've got a couple of things to take care of before we get started."

Dean watched helplessly as the Melonheads worked away, gathering instruments, bottles, and things Dean didn't even have a name for. He was speechless, something that was quite a rarity in his life. He didn't know what to do. His little brother was strapped down, about to be tortured and there was nothing he could do.

For the first time since they had arrived, a true feeling of despair came over him. He didn't want to give up, but he didn't know what else to do. There had to be some way to escape. Hell, they were Winchesters, they could find their way out of any tight spot – right?

Dean looked to the others, still locked in their cages. Their faces spoke volumes to him. How many different people would be affected if this woman had her way? Each person was connected to hundreds of other people, be it family members, friends, or acquaintances. He couldn't let that happen. If he was going to die, it was going to be from trying to save lives. Saving people, hunting things, the family business. His own words echoed through his mind and suddenly, a power surged through him that he didn't have just moments ago. He knew what he needed to do and nothing was going to stop him from doing it.

About ten minutes after Ginny had left, she returned. As she made her way around the room where Sam was held, she hummed a tune that had a certain 'Disney' ring to it.

"Lady, you are nine kinds of crazy," Dean said, shaking his head.

She stopped what she was doing and looked at Dean, a smile appearing on her face.

"Oh honey, I'm a lot of things, but crazy definitely isn't one of them. I'd say I'm a little closer to genius status."

Dean scoffed. "You managed to get a couple of mentally handicapped cogs to follow your orders. Bravo."

"No, no, no, my dear. These are not cogs," she said with disgust. "These are my babies."

"Lemme guess, the baby daddy was Godzilla."

"No, you imbecile, I created them. I modified their DNA, making them stronger than most humans." She approached one of the Melonheads and rubbed it gently on the head pushing around the few strands of hair. Dean watched as the creature leaned into her touch.

"You see, these poor things were just eggs frozen in a test tube, probably destined to be thrown out. I saved them and continued my grandfather's work." She sighed, "He was such a brilliant man, just a little before his time. I'm sure that, if given the chance, he would have won a Nobel Prize in Medicine."

Dean stared at her, confused. The creatures looked like the Melonheads that were from the Crowe legend. But she said she created them.

"Oh dear boy, you didn't seriously think these were the impaired kids with hydrocephalus that William worked with, did you? Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find kids with that disease, let alone capture them? Besides, he only worked with them because doing experiments on normal children was generally frowned upon.

"The genetic modification is what caused they're odd appearance; I'm still working out some of the kinks. My first generation turned out quite strong, but not very agile. My second generation is a little on the small side still, but they're fast. I have to say, I hit a home run with their invulnerability. Your pathetic attempts hardly scratched my baby."

She shook her head, refocusing herself on the creature beneath her hand and sighed softly. "I gave them life and, in return, they gave me their loyalty. It's really quite perfect."

"Oh yeah, sounds like it. By the way, don't forget to renew your subscription of Mad Scientist Weekly. I hear there's a great issue coming up on how to perfect your evil genius laugh."

Her smile didn't falter one bit. If anything, it intensified. "You poke fun at me now, you probably won't be doing that once your friend here wakes up and I get to have my fun." She turned her attention back to her 'kids' in the room. "Go ahead and get some rest. Five, you may stay." The creatures, with the exception of the wounded one, headed upstairs. 'Five' stood behind and waited for instructions from his creator.

"If you lay a finger on him, so help me God, I'll – "

"You'll what? Yell at me? Shake your fist? You're quite protective of him, aren't you? What is he, your boyfriend?"

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why does everyone always think that?"

"Well, regardless, I don't think there's much you can do to stop me. You know, I'm usually pretty humane with my experimental subjects, ask your cage mates, but for some strange reason, I suddenly don't feel so giving. Not to mention," she said, rounding the metal table and placing a hand on Sam's shoulder, "I was dreaming all night about the various ways I could make him scream."

Dean kicked the iron cage angrily which was met with a demonic laugh from Ginny.

"Number Five, could you remove young Sam's shirt please? He's looking a little warm."

The Melonhead, or whatever it was, from the woods, or 'Number Five' as Dean now knew him, picked up a particularly scary-looking pair of shears from the metal tray and approached Sam. It gripped the bottom edge of the t-shirt with a shaky hand and began cutting the thin fabric.

Dean's stomach flopped inside of him. He didn't want to think about what Ginny could possibly have in store for his brother.

He was suddenly distracted as he heard a small, sharp intake of breath coming from Sam.

Ginny turned to investigate as well. As she approached, Number Five pulled its hand back to reveal a thin cut from the middle of Sam's abs to the bottom of his sternum.

"Number Five," she said sternly, "remember what I taught you about patience?" She sounded like a mother scolding her child.

Five looked down sheepishly and placed the scissors back on the tray.

"All in due time, child," Ginny said, taking a piece of gauze and wiping the small trail of blood from Sam's abdomen. "Now you may watch, but make sure you stay back until I tell you otherwise."

A moan suddenly escaped from Sam's mouth. Dean saw his eyes open and then close quickly, most likely from the assault of the bright lights suspended from the ceiling.

"What perfect timing. Looks like our prisoner is awake."