I'm so excited about all these reviews i decided to post ANOTHER chap for u all...this is the third one today! hope u enjoy
Nikki
Warning: Torture scene...not much...but it's still there.
I might as well add a disclaimer again, just in case.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dean and Sam, if I did they'd be locked in my basement.
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When Sam awoke, nothing but pain hit him. It hurt so badly! Sweat running down his face; he struggled into a sitting position, yelping in pain, as his right leg remained limp. Taking hard, fast breaths, he managed to pull off his blood soaked jeans, groaning at the sight of the bullet wound.
'Damn you Dean,' he cursed. He studied it intently. He could feel the bullet still lodged in his leg, he could see it, and he needed to get it out, right now. Taking deeper breaths to calm himself, he dug his fingers deep into the hole, screaming in agony, tears forming in his eyes. He drew his fingers out, his hand trembling, his leg hurting more than ever. He had been so close. He'd felt it move, but he still had to delve in to get it.
After the pain had subsided a bit, he took another deep breath, and using all his internal strength, stuck his fingers in a second time. The pain was just as agonizing, if not worse, but Sam drew his hand, triumphantly holding up the bullet. He began to rip the bed sheets, using a length of cloth to wrap the wound tightly, and to wipe his bloody hands on. Sighing with the small amount of relief he felt, he leaned back against the wall. God, Dean didn't even know his own brother. He had to prove it, somehow.
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Dean thrashed wildly around; his hands shackled high above his head, his feet shackled to the floor. The guilt of killing his brother had worn out, and he was slowly beginning to remember everything that had happened. Bits were missing, but it was all coming back.
'Let me go!' he yelled. 'Where's my brother! I didn't kill him! I can feel it!'
'Dean, you killed your brother, you blew him up,' Brooks said sternly. 'Repeat it back to me, say it, and mean it, and I can make all this go away.'
'No! He's not dead! You're bluffing!' Dean screamed. Brooks face melted into an ugly glare.
'Looks like you're in for a hard night,' she threatened. She strode up to him, staring him in the eye, before ripping his shirt completely off him. She stood back, mouth open, staring at the ripple of muscles, the tanned skin, the sweat slowly trickling down him.
Dean watched her closely.
'Well do you have to stare?' he snapped. 'I know it's hot but Shapeshifters shouldn't care.'
'Dean, I've told you, we're not normal Shapeshifters,' she said, taking her hair down. She bit her lip, her body tensing in anticipation.
'Man, I know you're a Shapeshifter, but that's just sexy,' Dean said, unable to help himself. 'If you were real I'd bang you in a second.'
'That shouldn't stop you,' she said seductively. She slowly walked over to him and ran her hand down his body. A shiver ran down her spine, as she slowly leant in to kiss him.
'Oh god, oh god,' Dean thought. 'I'm not going to kiss her, I won't kiss her…OH GOD!'
Dean tried to pull away, but being shackled he hardly moved. She kissed him, and Dean hardly realized, but he kissed back. Brooks pulled back with a start as she heard a door bang open behind her.
Roberts wandered in, unaware of what he had just interrupted.
'How's it going?' he asked, looking Dean up and down. 'I don't see him in pain.'
'Oh, um…I was just preparing him,' she said weakly. Her mind was racing. 'Why can I feel…this has never happened before. I shouldn't have feelings!'
'You ok?' Roberts asked, concerned.
'Oh, yeah, why wouldn't I be?' She replied. 'Well, I'm going to get to it.'
'Ok then,' Roberts replied. 'You know where to find me.' He turned to walk out of the room, pausing at the door. He faced her. 'You look different…I can't seem to pinpoint it.' He shrugged and left the room, Brooks rolling her eyes at him.
Dean had a smug look on his face. 'You ever felt like that before?' he asked, flashing his famous smile. 'I didn't realize you guys could feel. Must be coz your different.'
Brooks shut her eyes, not wanting to look at that smile again. It was so irresistible! She rubbed her head, trying not to let it get to her. Quickly putting her hair up again, she waltzed over to a table that was covered by a cloth. Gracefully whipping the cloth off, she revealed a mass of weapons. The grin faded from Dean's face as she chose a large knife from the array.
'I'd hate to ruin your body,' she sighed. 'But it's my job. And I could do anything, without feeling a thing.' She circled around to his back, his incredibly smooth back.
'We'll start with my trademark,' she said, gently putting the point of the knife onto the middle of Dean's shoulder blades. He flinched slightly as she put pressure on the knife, drawing blood, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out as she carved a symbol into his back. It wasn't small, either. When her work was completed, she grabbed a bottle of black ink, and spread it over the wound. The bleeding stopped instantly, and she pressed a towel against it, drying the ink.
'A nice, new tattoo,' she said. 'Just a reminder of your stay here.' She laughed loudly and moved around to face him. She held up the bloody knife, and with an evil smile slowly licked the blood off it. Dean gagged in disgust.
'Taste's good,' she murmured. She threw the knife on the floor. 'I learnt this new skill the other day,' she said. 'I think you'll really enjoy it…feel thing's you've never felt before.' She closed her eyes, her face pure concentration, her hand pressed against her forehead. When she opened her eyes, Dean saw the blackness that had engulfed them, and she reached out to him, as if in a trance. She made contact with his skin. He screamed in agony as he felt currants of electricity enter his body, and then a much more painful feeling rushed through him, leaving him winded. A new sensation entered him, and he gasped for breath, the pain unbearable, indescribable.
Sam, on the other side of the sewers, sat up in shock as he heard his brother's spine chilling screams echoing down the halls.