A/N: Again, you people are awesome. I cannot say it enough.
One comment I kept getting is about the short chapters. I apologize for these. I'm not a fan of packing stuff in. I mostly write for my own amusement and I'm kind of just too lazy to add in more detail. I'm sorry about that and I hope you don't hold it against me too much.
Another comment was about how confusing Dean is. I wanted to keep some slight guessing as to what's going on. After this chapter there will be no more guessing, though. Enjoy the story!
See first chapter for disclaimer.
Warnings: Violence and slight language, but nothing too bad.
My Brother's Keeper
Chapter 5: In Your Hands
Dean pulled his fist back and slammed it forward, intending to show his brother just how stupid he had been to call their father. He yelled out in pain when his fist hit the hard wall in front of him, where Sam's head had just been.
Sam's quick reflexes made him duck and he was now scrambling around his older brother, looking for an escape. His flight ended when Dean grabbed his arms from behind and threw him up against the wall. Sam moaned through gritted teeth as his ribs screamed at the abuse they were taking. He wasn't given too much time to wallow in the familiar pain.
Suddenly Dean grabbed Sam's right arm and again twisted it behind his back. This time he didn't let up until he heard a pop and Sam yell. From there he tossed the boy to the floor and watched as he curled in on himself.
Dean shook out his aching hand as he stated, "Stupid, little brother. Real stupid."
Sam stayed silent, focusing all of his attention on breathing through the pain and hoping that Dean would go easier on him if he didn't fight.
Fury started to work its way into the older hunter's voice as he started ranting, "What is wrong with you? Why do you have to keep pushing and pushing? You're never satisfied, no matter what dad and I do for you! Jesus, Sam! When I took you upstairs I told you to stay put and you can't even do that! Why can't you just listen and take a damn order for once?" Dean paused for a moment, waiting. When Sam still didn't talk Dean grabbed his good arm and pulled him up into a sitting position. He demanded angrily, "Answer me!"
"I don't know what you want!" Sam yelled. He was terrified. He couldn't wrap his head around the person, or thing, in front of him. Not knowing what to expect was what scared him the most.
"Tell me that you'll stop being such a selfish bastard and you'll start thinking about everyone else. You hate hunting, we got that! But we all have to do things we don't like. We suck it up and we deal with it. You need to grow up, Sam!"
"I do hunt! I do what you and dad want!"
Dean shook his head, shaking Sam in the process, "You hunt, but your head's not in it. It's never been in it."
"Why does that matter?"
"It matters because when you're not focused on hunting, people die. What happened back at that house will happen again. I could have died back there, Sam!"
"Don't you think I know that?"
"Well obviously you don't care!"
"I-"
"Shut up, Sam! Just shut up and listen, for once in your life! You are useless to us right now. You are going to get me and dad killed!" Dean stopped there, breathing hard. After a few minutes he started again, this time calmer, "Okay, how about this? What are you gonna do when we're not there to protect you?"
"What?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed. The intensity of the argument and the sudden change of topic had caught him off guard. He wasn't sure what to think and he was more than a little scared to talk, lest he attract Dean's anger again.
"You can't protect yourself! What are you going to do when somethin' in the dark has got you cornered and dad and I aren't there to save your ass?"
"I don't... I don't need you to protect me."
It took a moment for Dean to reply. He just starred at him and then he gave off a disgusted scoff, "You think you can survive with your life in your hands? Do ya?"
Sam swallowed thickly and slowly nodded.
"Okay." Dean nodded before pulling Sam to his feet and dragging him out of the room.
The younger boy didn't put up any fight, his remaining energy going to keeping himself on his feet. He let his brother take him into the kitchen where the older Winchester grabbed a coil of rope. When he saw this Sam started to struggle, albeit weakly.
Dean put a stop to the squirming by twisting Sam's right arm behind him. He ignored the pained sounds coming from his brother and brought the left arm back, tying the wrists together tightly.
"What are you doing?" Sam asked, fear tinting his voice.
"This is for your own good, Sammy. You need to learn this lesson the hard way and I'm the one that's got to teach you." Dean replied. He picked up the remaining rope and lead Sam back to the living room, one hand never leaving its grip on Sam's arm.
The house they were presently staying in gave off the impression of a large cabin, including wooden rafters running across the room. Most were helping to support the loft, but others served as decoration. It was to one of those that Dean went. He let go of Sam, but never let him out of his sight. The spare rope was thrown up over one of the rafters and tightly tied off.
Dean made a show of slowly tying the free end into a noose.
Sam gaped at the rope. He slowly shook his head. "No." came out in a whisper.
Dean quickly latched onto Sam's arm, sensing that the younger boy would not go easily. He was right.
Sam put all of his effort into keeping his distance from his brother's newest torture device. "No. Dean don't do this! Dean stop! Please!"
The older Winchester hooked his foot around the leg of a short table and pulled it over. He stepped onto it, pulling Sam up with him. It wasn't hard to overpower the injured teenager and he soon had the noose tightened around his neck.
Dean jumped down and readjusted the rope so Sam was standing on his toes, or else he was choking. He stood back and looked for a moment before saying, "Your life is in your hands now." With that said he walked to the door and left Sam in the house, alone.
Time seemed to crawl for Sam. He tried not to think about the coarse rope around his neck or how if he fell there would be no one there to help. He focused on keeping his balance on the shaky table and keeping his toes away from the edge. When this was all over he would have to remember to tighten the screws holding the table together. To hell with that. The thing was being tossed.
He growled at himself when his body shook and he had to take a small step closer to the edge to keep his balance. It was too close. There was no way he could stay up much longer. His body wanted sleep. His legs were burning and his right shoulder was slowly going numb. 'Not good.' he thought. He was starting to regret answering Dean's question.
The only good thing to come from it was his confirmation that it really wasn't Dean. He was sure now, and nothing could change his mind or make him doubt it. Dean would never risk his life like this.
Sam started to panic when his breath hitched. It made his chest ache and his whole body jerk, bringing him even closer to the edge. All of a sudden he couldn't breathe!
Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he barely noticed his toes slipping off of the side. His last thought before blacking out was that he was going to die, and hopefully, his father would help Dean.
TBC
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic, so please be gentle. Criticisms are welcome, but please no flames. Tell me what ya all think.
