A/N: TW for implied rape (that didn't actually happen in the end)


The first thing Sam noticed upon waking was that he couldn't move his arms or legs. The sudden shock that overcame him was enough to startle him into total awareness as he uselessly tugged at the restrains that tied him to... a bed? What...?

Before Sam could even fully question what was happening a sudden weight tripped down the mattress he was lying on and he was staring straight into the face of Becky. She immediately started bombarding him with questions, an overly concerned tone in her voice, but Sam had a hard time following her words. Piece by piece the memories started to come back to him.

She had drugged him. They had gotten married. Wait... They had married?! What the...? And then the drug had worn off and she had hit him over the head. And that was the last thing he could remember.

He tried to interrupt her word flow when he suddenly realised something. He could feel the fabric of the blanket directly against his legs. He wasn't wearing any pants! He sucked in a sharp breath. Shit. A little shifting confirmed his fear, his underpants were also missing. Shit!

"Becky, why am I not wearing any pants?" Sam tried to keep himself from immediately jumping to any worst case scenarios, but he couldn't help the feeling of dread that pooled in his stomach.

"They're very constricting. Don't worry. I didn't do anything weird. I was just helping you out." She tried to calm him down, but Sam wasn't feeling very reassured. Considering that he was currently tied to a bed, pants missing, he didn't think their definitions of 'weird' aligned very well. And what the hell did she mean 'she'd helped him out'?

Sam groaned in disgust at the mental images of what she could have done to him while he'd been unconscious. Before he could question her any further, however, a sound from the laptop in the other room distracted her. He tried to protest when she stuffed a dirty cloth into his mouth and left with the promise of returning with more love potion, but to no avail. Before long he was alone in the apartment.

He let out a frustrated groan and let his head fall back onto the pillow. Resining himself to what would probably be hours of uncomfortable waiting, he closed his eyes and tried to empty his mind. Just don't think. If he didn't think about anything, he wouldn't have to confront the sick feeling in his stomach. But it was no use. Every little shift rubbed his naked skin against the scratchy material of the blanket and reminded him of his situation. Images of Becky tying his unconscious body to the bed flashed though his mind. Pictures of her openly staring at him with lustful eyes. His body shivered when his mind conjured up ghost touches of hands along his naked skin and over his groin.

A sudden nausea filled him and the cloth in his mouth was the only thing stopping him from empting his stomach all over the bed. The worst thing was that he had no way of knowing what had actually happened and what was only in his head. Becky was obviously insane and a lot more creepy than he could have ever imagined, but how far would she go? How far had she gone with him?

Sam suddenly whished that he could curl up into a ball, but the robes prevented it. Even with the blanket thrown over him he felt exposed, spread out like that. His mind continued to spiral and he couldn't stop the scenes flashing before his eyes. Before long he was fighting back tears and he wished nothing more than that Dean'd come find him.

It must have been hours that went by until Sam heard the sound of the front door opening. At some point a few silent tears had escaped him despite his best efforts, but with his hands tied up he was unable to wipe them away so their tracks were clearly visible on his face. Steps neared the bedroom and he instinctively stiffened. If Becky tried to dose him with that stupid potion again, he would fight her with all he had. No way he'd let her make him a mindless puppet again!

But the person that opened the door and carefully peeked inside wasn't the crazy fangirl. "Dean!" Sam tried to call out, but it came out muffled.

As soon an his brother saw him, he pushed the door fully open and hurried to his side. "Sammy! You back to normal? The hell did that crazy bitch do to you?!" He pulled the gag from his mouth and immediately started to loosen the restrains around his hands.

Sam had to choke down a sob of relieve that his brother had found him. "Dean-" his voice cracked, preventing him from saying any more. His breathing was getting faster and more irregular. A slight dizziness started to set in, but he brushed it off as the aftereffect of being gagged for so long.

Dean gave him a concerned look and his brow creased in worry when he took in his state. "Don't worry, I'll have you free in no time. I've found out who's behind this and where Becky is and we can go confront..."

"Wait!"

Sam tried to stop Dean from pulling back the blanket, but it was too late. The man trailed of midsentence when he realised the same thing Sam had hours earlier. For a moment Dean was frozen as his mind seemed to struggle to comprehend the meaning of what he was seeing, then he slowly looked back up and asked: "Where are your pants?"

A slightly hysterical, wet sound was the only thing that came out of Sam as his lungs seemed to be unable to draw any air back in. He didn't understand why his heart was suddenly racing and stumbling. He gasped, his hands fisting into his hair and he barely noticed it when tears started to spill down his cheeks.

"Shit," Dean breathed, his eyes widening in realisation. "Hey, hey, it's alright. Calm down, Sammy!" Sam desperately clung to his brothers voice as he tried to pull himself out of the spiral in his head. Dean put a hand to his chest and at first Sam flinched back, but then the older man pulled the blanket back over him and his steady voice reached him. "Breathe with me, Sammy. It's all gonna be okay. I'm here now and I'll make sure she'll never touch you again."

Even through Sam could see the panic on his brother's face, that he was desperately trying to hold back, his steady voice and words helped him calm down until he was finally breathing normally again.

Dean kept a steady grip on his arms as he asked. "Sammy, what happened?" He couldn't quite mask the fear in his voice as he was desperately searching the other's face. Sam tried to answer, but all that came out was another cut off sob.

He watched Dean's expression crumble as he tried to come to terms with the situation's implications. "Shit," he said again and pulled his little brother into his arms. "oh no, Sammy, no." And he held him close as Sam shook and clung into his shoulder.

Neither said anything for a few minutes as Sam tried to calm himself down again and Dean just held him. Seriously, Sam couldn't understand why he reacted like that. For all he knew nothing had even happened at all.

"Do you..." Dean swallowed and cleared his throat, "do you wanna talk about it?"

His voice was way too soft and Sam took a few deep breaths to pull himself back together as he pulled back slightly. He couldn't stand to see Dean so worried over what was essentially nothing anyway. "I-I don't even know what happened. I was unconscious and when I woke up... I was tied to the bed... like this."

He felt Dean let out a small breath of relief, but he still didn't relax fully. "I'm gonna kill that bitch," he swore while he leaned down to free Sam's ankles. After a bit of searching he found and brought over the rest of his clothes and turned around while Sam quickly redressed himself.

Sam let out a shaky laugh and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't even know why I'm so upset. I can't remember a thing. For all I know nothing happened at all."

For a moment Dean just watched him, before his sat down next to him with a sigh. "You're probably right. Becky wouldn't be so stupid and she'd have to know that I'd kill her if she laid a single hand on you." He hesitated and than grimaced. "But you don't have to feel bad for freaking out. Just the possibility is damn straight scary. And your overthinking nerd brain tends to skip to worst case serious, I guess."

Dean gave him a reassuring smile and after a moment Sam returned it. After a few more minutes of silence in which Sam processed everything, Dean grinned. "So, what do you say we teach Becky-Bitch a lesson and solve the case while we're at it?" This time the grin Sam returned was almost himself again.

After the demon was dead, the divorce was filed and they had left Becky and the whole fiasco behind, they're back on the road. Sam was tired enough to fall asleep in the seat next to Dean, but everything that had happened wouldn't leave him in peace and he was restless. After they had crossed state borders Dean spoke up, "I talked to Becky about the bed thing, by the way. Freaked her out quite a bit when I asked, think she was scared for her life." A dark, satisfied grin crossed his face. "But she has sworn that the worst she did was look. She didn't touch you."

A weight fell off of Sam at the reassurance and relief crashed over him like a wave. He threw a quick glace a his brother, but Deans was staring straight at the road, his brows slightly furrowed. A small smile crossed Sam's face. "I don't think she would have liked what'd have happened if she had."

Dean's expression didn't change as he said seriously, "I would have killed her." And Sam had no doubt that he'd have.


Bonus: Dean's confrontation with Becky

After Sam had left to turn in the divorce papers, Dean held Becky back. She turned towards him with an unsure expression that quickly turned into unease upon the dark look on his face. "You and me," Dean gestured between them and let the words hang in the air for a moment, "need to have a little talk."

Becky swallowed nervously. "Hey, look, I said I'm sorry. I was just so lonely and I really hoped-"

"Save it." Dean snarled. "Unlike my too-kind-for-his-own-good brother I don't care about your little sob story. I wanna know what you did to him."

"I didn't do anything. Well, except for the drugging, and the hit over the head. ...And the tying up. That part probably also wasn't cool. But I didn't actually hurt him, I swear." While she was talking, she'd started to back away from him when Dean's expression became increasingly stormy.

He stepped forward threateningly and loomed over her with his fists clenched as he growled, "Oh, yeah? Then why were his pants missing. What did you do to him?! I swear, if you touched him..."

But Becky was frantically shaking her head. Actually her whole body was shaking in fear by now. "I didn't! I didn't do anything. Well, maybe I was staring at him a little, but I promise I didn't do that. Please."

All Dean could hear was 'staring at him'. Before he knew what he was doing, his fist connected with her cheek. Becky let out a pained little cry. For good measure, Dean delivered two more blows.

"Never get near my brother again," he huffed, while she was pressing herself against the wall, arms raised to protect her face. "For your good, I hope that we'll never meet again."

And with that he spun around and left her standing there before he did something he'd regret.