A/N: Eek! I'm so sorry I didn't update last week; NaNo and real life kind of crept up on me there (heh, responsibilities, what are they?). I don't want to be one of those people who completely suck at updating, so hopefully next week we'll be back on track - I make no promises, though, since NaNo is still going on until the end of June. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
The three teenagers stood looking at each other silently, each waiting for the other to speak. They needed to talk, Sam knew that. But he wouldn't be the first to speak.
"Talk about what?" said Ava shakily. "I mean, he's obviously lying."
"Is he?" Jake's voice was even.
"Totally." Ava looked to Sam for support, and Sam shrugged. Demons lied, he knew that too. But sometimes they told the truth just to mess with you. One of them could be lying. He couldn't trust these guys, he had only just met them, but he couldn't trust the demon either. He wished Dean was here.
Sam shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what he's talking about."
Jake sighed as the elevator lurched back into motion. "Well, someone here is lying." He stared at both Sam and Ava in turn, and they glared right back.
He couldn't tell them about the demons. They'd think he was crazy and then they wouldn't listen to anything else he had to say. How would they get out of here then? Sam frowned at his feet. Finally, Jake spoke again, breaking the tense silence that gripped them.
"He... he gave me this stuff. Some kinda... I dunno, it was like this red liquid, he made me drink it." Sam's stomach dropped.
"He did what?"
"I dunno, man." Jake shifted uncomfortably. "It made me stronger. I dunno what it was."
"So you just drank it?" The mention of the demon blood had reminded Sam of just how hungry he was, though, just how much he needed the blood... He shivered and swallowed, wondering if he could trick his body into believing he had drunk it. He didn't want to drink the blood, but if this went on much longer he'd have to.
"Sam?" Ava was frowning at him when he opened his eyes and hey, when had he even closed them? "What's wrong?"
Sam lunged at her, grabbing the front of her shirt and pushing her against the wall. "Did you drink it too, Ava? Did he give you it?"
"Sam, what the hell?" Ava shoved at him, trying to move away.
"Did you give it to you?" Sam insisted.
"What the hell-" Ava struggled briefly, then sighed. "Yes, okay? He gave the stupid stuff to me."
Sam looked between Jake and Ava, incredulous. Who did that? "What, so this crazy guy offers you some weird drink and you just take it?"
"Sam, what is the big deal?" demanded Ava as the elevator stopped, opening its doors and spilling its passengers out onto the second floor.
The room they were now in was dim, the lights off but the daylight spilling through the windows, and filled with little office cubicles. In each one was a desk with a computer on top and an array of office supplies. It looked just like any other big office would, and Sam wasn't sure what he had expected. Blood, maybe? Meathooks and chains, with demons torturing human souls? But it was just a normal room.
"Sam." Jake's even voice broke through his thoughts. "What do you know that we don't?"
Sam sighed, knowing he'd have to tell them something but not sure how to without spilling the whole story. "It's... this drug thing. It makes you stronger"- a flash of visions, the throb of addiction, the pain of exorcising the demon flickered through his mind -"but it's really addictive."
Ava wandered around the office, trailing her fingers along the desks. "That sicko drugged us?"
"How do you know?" That was Jake, dark, suspicious eyes flicking between Sam and Ava, and Sam had the sudden feeling of hopelessness, the knowledge that he couldn't trust anyone here. He glanced over at Ava, trying to convince himself that these two, at least, wouldn't hurt him. They were all in the same boat here, and it was that knowledge that made him keep talking.
"This guy... he took me before, kidnapped me, gave me this drug." Sam shifted uncomfortably, trying not to think back to the week he had spent tied up in the warehouse and the pain of the withdrawal afterwards, trying not to think about the blood at all but dammit he needed it and-
-and his whole world tilted, fading to white for a moment and when his eyes opened again he was on the floor, propped up against the wall with Jake crouched down beside him, frowning. "Sam?"
He sucked in a deep breath. He couldn't think about the demon blood, about the addiction, even as it took over his mind, spreading like wildfire. He had to focus. "'M okay. Sorry."
"S'okay," said Jake softly. "You good?"
Sam nodded. "I'm good." He let Jake haul him to his feet, wishing like hell it was Dean, and sighed. "That's all I know, I mean, I- I don't know what he wants with us." A huge rush of air escaped his lungs, frustration pounding through him. "Maybe we can figure out where we are, though." There were computers here, they could do research and figure out what the hell was going on - as long as they could keep the demons away.
Jake followed his gaze to the computers and the cubicles, where Ava was already standing. "Good thinking." He headed straight for them, and Sam slipped into the nearest seat and booted up the computer. It felt good to be doing something, taking action instead of fumbling around for a handhold, trying not to fall. Even if they weren't finding his family, they were doing something. Dean and Dad would find him, eventually, Sam was sure of it. They had to be safe.
"I know," said Ava suddenly, over the tapping of keys as Sam and Jake logged onto the computers. Sam looked up at her, frowning when she seemed to be just standing there.
"You know what?" he asked distractedly, giving the computer desktop a cursory once-over before loading the internet up.
Ava took a deep, shaky breath.
"I know what he wants with us."
The Colt.
The very thing they had been looking for this entire time. Could it be possible it would just stroll into their lives in the hands of a helpful hunter? Experience told Bobby that couldn't be right, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if said horse was a gun that could kill anything.
"It's Daniel Elkins, he's got the Colt," relayed Bobby hurriedly to John and Dean before returning to the conversation. "That so?" He was trying very hard to ignore the frantic hand motions John was making for him to hand over the phone.
"Yeah," Elkins' voice crackled over the line, and Bobby desperately hoped the connection wouldn't crap out before they'd had a chance to sort this out. "I heard John Winchester's been lookin' for it,"
"Yeah," said Bobby slowly, waiting for Elkins to continue. Something rustled on the other end of the line.
"Heard he's got two boys, that true?"
Bobby nodded before he remembered Elkins couldn't see him, turning his back on John so he couldn't see the way the younger man was grasping for the phone. "Yeah," he said again. "Two sons."
The other hunter exhaled heavily. "That ain't no life for children," he said grimly. "I wanna help him, let him finish his crazy revenge mission. This gun's the only thing that can kill what he's goin' after."
Wondering how the other man knew so much about the Winchesters but not wanting to ask in case he pissed Elkins off, Bobby said, "So you'll help us? Let us use the Colt?"
"Yeah." There was a thud. "I got it with me, I can get it to ya if ya tell me where ya are. I'll be comin' too, course. Nothin' personal, I just like to keep an eye on it."
Bobby nodded just as John snatched the phone from his hands. "Daniel Elkins?"
Bobby didn't try to take the phone back, knowing John needed this, and instead just listened to the buzzing of Elkins' voice from the other line.
"It- the demon, it took my son," John was saying, and Bobby raised his eyebrows a little – both at how vulnerable John sounded and at just how much he was telling this man, this stranger. It had taken him years to trust Bobby with the information. "We need the Colt, we have to kill it."
"Sonuvabitch needs to die," growled Dean, but the effects were dulled by the way he swayed as he spoke, one hand cradling his head. "We gotta go get Sam."
Bobby rested a hand on the young man's shoulder, as John kept talking to Daniel Elkins. "We'll get him back, son." He loved Sam and Dean like his own sons, had cared for them whenever the idjits stopped by, made sure they always had a place to go. Knowing Sam was in danger? It hurt, more than he cared to admit, so he couldn't imagine what it was doing to Dean.
John was looking at the card propped up on one of the bedside tables. "Yeah, we're at the E-Z Sleep motel," he said, nose wrinkling at the crappy name. "Alright. We'll see you then." He took the phone away from his ear, and Bobby guessed that Elkins had hung up.
He tossed the phone to Bobby, who caught it with ease. "He'll be here in about a day," said John softly. He was staring at his hands like he couldn't quite believe it.
"Not soon enough," said Dean, trying to stand up. Bobby gripped his shoulder firmly and pushed him back onto the bed.
"We need to wait, Dean." He frowned at Dean's head. The gauze he had taped down earlier was already coming off, difficult to tape to the young man's hair. "And you need to rest. Ya took a beatin'."
"No kidding," huffed Dean. "I'm okay, though. We need to go get Sam."
"How you gonna do that, Dean? Huh?" That was John, but his tone wasn't harsh, just tired. "Look, I don't like it any more than you." He finally turned to face them. "But this is the only safe way to do it. We wait for Elkins to show up, we get the Colt and then we storm the place, get Sam out."
"He could be hurt! He could be-" Dean cut himself off, making a strangled choking sound, but Bobby could guess what the next word would have been.
He could be dead.
It wasn't like the thought hadn't occurred to Bobby, hell, it had probably occurred to John, but he didn't want Dean thinking like that. Sam had to be okay.
"Don't you say that!" John had shot to his feet, and for an instant Bobby saw the fear in his eyes before it disappeared. "Don't you dare say that. He's alive, Dean. We're gonna get him out of there."
For a moment, the only sound was John's harsh breathing as his shoulders heaved up and down. It looked as though Dean was considering arguing, but his father's authority won out and he nodded. "Okay. Okay." He sighed shakily and ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the pain it must have caused.
John seemed to notice too. "You need to rest. Your head... I..." He faltered, probably remembering exactly why Dean's head was in such a state. "Go to sleep. I'll wake you up in an hour or so, make sure you don't have a concussion."
It was a testament to how much pain Dean was in that he just nodded, pulling off his boots and lying down on the bed. He closed his eyes and was asleep within minutes.
Bobby glanced at John. The younger man was watching Dean with a pained expression. "I hurt him. Both of them. I screwed this up, Bobby, so bad."
Swallowing and screwing up his fists – because he wasn't prepared for a guilty John Winchester, he never was – Bobby nodded. "You did. Wasn't your fault you got possessed, mind you. But you got 'em into this life, John. It's time to get 'em out."
Sometimes John needed the truth, however cold it was. That was when he came to Bobby. "Now," said Bobby, "let's get to work. We need to get a plan of that building and figure out where they'll be keeping Sam."
John nodded shakily. "Okay. Yeah. I can do that." He scrubbed a hand down his face, visibly reconstructing his mask. "Let's get to work."