Chapter Twelve:
After communicating with the SGC, Sarai prepared to take a brief nap. R'kenoth was still tired from healing the scratch, in addition to fighting off food poisoning from one of the fast-food meals they'd eaten. General Hammond had ordered them to report back if Dean was not found in the next two days, but in the meantime he saw no reason for the SGC to get involved directly.
Sarai had enjoyed the movie thoroughly, although she did not quite understand all the popular cultural references. Still, "Music and Lyrics" was an entertaining movie which Sarai was glad she had chosen. To R'kenoth, it served only to further the view of the taur'i as a relatively primitive people.
As she lay with her eyes closed on the bed, covered only with a thin sheet, she wondered if the example of sexual relations in the movie explained the Winchester brothers' strange reaction to her nudity at the hotel. Did they see her as a potential sexual partner? Clearly not, for Dean was presently out with a female, and during the movie, when other couples in the theater were making amorous advances to each other, Sam had completely ignored her. It is a foolish thought, anyway. I will only be here on this planet another two weeks. She thought to herself.
//Sarai, please think a little quieter.// Said the goa'uld symbiote who shared her body. Sorry. There was a pause in their mental communication as Sarai tried to focus on sleep. //I do hope nothing has happened to Dean.// R'kenoth said, and to her surprise Sarai detected a deep and sincere anxiety behind R'kenoth's words.
Sam will find him, Reken. Sam takes care of Dean, he will not let anything hurt his older brother.
The equivalent of a sigh came from R'kenoth. //You are right, and they are both fully capable of taking care of themselves. May we go to sleep now?//
Yes.
Tok'ra did not usually have dreams. That isn't to say they could not, but most chose a deep and dreamless sleep or took only the minimal rest required to stay healthy. Sarai's nap, however, was interrupted by a disturbing dream. She was in a museum, getting ready to present her research to an audience of Tok'ra elders and some humans, and a large yellow bird was speaking to Teal'c about something in the corner. Her project was about Winchester rifles, and how they would help the Asgard grow taller. She was just about to begin her speech when the scene suddenly shifted to the back seat of an oversized Impala. From her ant-sized position, Sarai could see thick black smoke above her, hovering in a cloud near the roof of the car. A feeling of fear filled her, and she cried out as the blackness descended and surrounded her, obliterating the surroundings. A shout answered her cry, and she staggered through the cloud blindly, trying to find the source of the voice.
Suddenly, in the darkness there was a faint light moving toward her, a small glowing ball at about chest height. From within the darkness, Sam appeared in front of her, and she realized the light was the glow from the goa'uld hand device he now aimed at her. His eyes flashed, and the force of the hand device threw her backwards powerfully. Instead of falling back and hitting the ground, she fell down through the smoke, down for what seemed like hours before she found herself lying on the dirt of a forest floor. There was a body next to her, on its side. Somehow knowing what she would find, Sarai reached out, and rolled the body over reveal Daniel Jackson, with a bullet hole in the middle of his forehead.
She looked up at the figure standing over them, a gun held loosely in his hand, a wisp of smoke coming from its barrel.
Dean looked back at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," He whispered, stricken. Sarai had never seen him look so vulnerable and helpless.
Somehow, the next moment Sarai was in his arms, holding him tightly as he clung to her for dear life.
With a gasp, Sarai snapped awake. She struggled to escape the stranglehold of the sheets which had become wrapped around her. //Sarai, are you alright? I sensed your sleep was troubled, but I was unable to decipher the brain impulses to sufficiently understand what you dreamt of.//
Reken, I think I'm beginning to have feelings for Dean! The young host paused. Also, he and Sam are going to become really evil beings who are going to kill us all. She added sarcastically as she realized how preposterous her previous statement had been. It was nothing more than an odd dream. I probably ate too many waffles.
//No, it was not the food.// R'kenoth was silent for a moment. //Why is it so unreasonable to think you have feelings for the taur'i man? He is not unhandsome.//
He's attractive in a physical sense, but so is his brother and many other males on this planet. If, and I'm not saying that I do, if I have feelings for him, it would only lead to unpleasantness in the future.
//You are rather young to be so dour…// R'kenoth began, but just then Sarai's attention was drawn away from the cracked ceiling where she'd been staring blankly, to the door as Sam came in, his forehead creased with worry.
"Sarai, has there been any word…?"
"No, Sam, I am sorry. Have you talked to the authorities?"
Sam grimaced. "Um, not…not yet. There's the whole thing about being a suspect in a murder investigation. Which we had nothing to do with, by the way." He hastened to assure her. "Besides, it hasn't been forty-eight hours yet." Seeing her blank look, he explained, "In the United States, a person can't legally be declared missing until forty-eight hours have passed."
"I see."
He grabbed the pack containing his laptop and extra clothing from the corner he'd placed it in the night before and dug through it. "I'm going to ask around at some places Dean might have gone. I'll probably be back before too late, so just stay here and-"
"No, Sam Winchester. I will accompany you." R'kenoth said firmly. Confused, and slightly rattled by the violence of her dream, Sarai willingly allowed the Tok'ra symbiote to take control and do the talking. Also, the walking, for R'kenoth was not going to sit in a dingy motel room for one more minute, waiting around for the taur'i to realize that he could use her help.
"What? No, it could be dangerous-" Sam began, finding the weapons he was after he quickly tucked the gun into his pants and the knife in its sheath before throwing the bag back onto the bed.
R'kenoth did not reply, but only grabbed Sarai's jean jacket and walked past Sam to the door. "We will begin asking after your brother at drinking establishments, yes?"
The slight and unimposing figure of the young woman the Winchesters had been traveling with for the past two weeks suddenly seemed much more intimidating, and Sam found himself reluctant to argue with her quiet determination. He swallowed, and then resigned himself to her company. "Uh, yeah. I looked up the addresses of the local bars, so I guess we'll just work our way down the list." On foot. He added mentally with a sigh. Of course Dean would go missing with the car. It was just like his brother to be as difficult as possible in these situations.
"Tell me, does Dean use aliases when picking up women?"
Closing the door to the motel room behind them, Sam was blindsided by the question, and the dull "thud" of the door settling in its frame drowned out his dumbfounded, "um…" as they headed out in search of the wayward older Winchester.
Time had no meaning for Dean, less so even, than it usually did. His captor had decided that a blindfold would help him think better, and Dean had given up counting seconds after one hour. At least, he thought it was an hour, he'd gotten lost somewhere around 3,572, and had just rounded up. Come on, Sam, what's taking so long? Isn't your psychic mojo kicking in yet? Maybe it's 'cause I'm not really in danger…unless you consider the risk of dying of boredom…
The gag was still in place, but if it weren't for the excessive dryness of his mouth, Dean would've tried talking, just for something to do. Man, torture by neglect.
"We're going to try something new, Dean." Came the voice suddenly, causing Dean to start violently in surprise. "Gdmnt!" Dean yelled through his gag. It's not nice to sneak up on people like that! Especially when they're blindfolded!
Naturally, the demon ignored Dean's outburst, and calmly untied Dean's feet from the chair, tying them to each other despite Dean's attempt to kick free. "I haven't got years for you to try and use that thick head of yours to solve my problem, so I've had to come up with some alternative ways to get the secret out of you."
Dean heard the clink of handcuffs, and was prepared when the demon untied his arm, but he was not faster than the possessed Aaron, who caught his arm and easily restrained it while attacking the handcuffs to Dean's other wrist. With limbs secured, Aaron removed the gag, leaving the blindfold in place.
"Bondage is not my thing, man."
"Truth be told it's not really mine either." The demon said casually, as he picked Dean up and took him to the kitchen area of the cabin. "But, we work with what we have." Producing a rope, Aaron tied Dean's hands to a metal hook hanging from an exposed ceiling rafter, and Dean cursed at him angrily. "I swear, if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to hunt down every single one of your motherf—ing cousins and send them back to the deepest pits of Hell for all eternity! God help me if I don't!"
"Oh, He'll need to help you anyway."
Dean tried jack-knifing his legs, but missed the demon completely, who had anticipated the move. He barely held back a whimper as he felt a fist impact his back, just above his kidneys. A blow to the stomach next, making him gasp.
"I appreciate your need to work out, because that right hook seriously needs help, but there's gotta be gym around here somewhere." He continued, despite the pain from the beating he was receiving. "I hear they have a sale on punching bags downtown. Evil does pay you, right?" A kick to the groin was his reply. "Touchy subject." Dean choked out, once he'd managed to swallow the bile that had arose in his throat. "Okay, no more talk about money."
"You are really are irritating, aren't you?" The demon's voice was still a calm, level tone, but Dean could hear the twinge of annoyance underneath. He opened his mouth to reply, but a one-two punch to his sternum and head knocked the wind and the lights, right out of him, and by the time he came around some time later, he had completely forgotten the extremely witty comeback he'd thought of.
He had, however, remembered what it was that had the demon so riled up. Bobby's medallion! It's keeping the demon from possessing me! After the demon formerly known as Meg had possessed Sam, Bobby had given the brothers medals to prevent a similar occurrence in the future. Dean had added the medal to the pendent he wore continuously about his neck, and it was still safely tucked underneath his clothing.
Still strung up like a plucked turkey, Dean's arms were aching and he could feel a swelling beginning on the side of his face, but he grinned widely in spite of the pain. "You really are stupid!" He said out loud. "Demons are not exactly known for being brilliant, but you? You've got to be like the Paris Hilton of demons. Ain't nothin' upstairs but air!" Dean listened intently for a movement, or a response of any kind. It would be a shame if no one was around to hear his clever remarks.
"Are you ready to surrender yourself to me?"
"God, no. I thought I told you, I don't swing that way." Good, the demon was around. Wait, notgood! Keep talking, maybe it would give him time to figure out a plan of escape. "I mean, not that I blame you or anything, 'cause I am pretty good-looking, but sorry, I'm a chicks-only kinda guy. Now if my brother were here…" Dean was only marginally aware of what he was saying, as he thought furiously about what he had to worth with in terms of an escape plan. A detached corner of his brain detected the soft-tread of the demon as he crossed the room to where Dean hung. "…I'm not saying he's gay or anything, but sometimes its hard not to-"
A mouth covered Dean's own, halting the torrent of words. Under the blindfold Dean's eyes popped open, and he tried to jerk his head back, but the hands on either side of his face prevented him from breaking the kiss. He twisted as best he could, and tried to kick out, but the demon was too close for him to get any leverage.
Finally, the possessed Aaron stepped away. "How do you know you don't like something unless you try it?" He said, amusement in his voice.
Dean spat in the direction of the voice. "You are one sick bastard." He smirked a little. He was unnerved by the assault, but was determined not to show it. "Do what you want, but you're not taking me over. You'll have to kill me, and then all your hard work will be for nothing."
"Hard work? Dean, I'm afraid you don't know demons nearly as well as you think you do." Aaron crossed the room, and paused by the kitchen sink. "I'm sure you've experienced all sorts of physical pain, and since I'm not really one for long speeches," Dean snorted at that. "…I get to stretch my creativity with you. This isn't work, Dean Winchester." The demon reached out and turned on the faucet, pausing for moment to watch the water swirl down the drain. "This is precisely my idea of what constitutes good time."
Hearing the echo of his own opinion of the past evenings doings, Dean sighed. "Of courts it is…" His heart sank. Sexual assault was unpleasant enough, but this was just unfair. Then again, he shouldn't expect fair from a dude who'd kick you in the jewels…. This was a new low, though. Why was it always the simplest methods which seemed to be the most effective? Pain was one thing; continuous discomfort was something else entirely. Sam, you better get your ass in gear, I can't hold it forever! I'm gonna have to pee sometime!