Hey everyone, here is the next chapter . I hope everyone ishe still interested. Sam and Dean just can't seem to get a break, now can they. I'll post the next chapter

when I can. Please review and let me know what you think.

Chapter 5

Groggily, Dean got up, grabbed his head and looked around. The new room he was in was smaller that the others, and there were bars on the door. It looked like some kind of cell. Dean went over and turned the knob. Locked. Shit. He hit the door because it was there and continued his surveillance when his eyes fell on Sam lying on a bed. "Sam,' he yelled and ran over to his side. No answer. Dean pushed the hair out of his eyes, hoping that would stir him awake. Still nothing. He grabbed Sam's shoulders and shook him hard. "SAM," he cried and Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean. Relief flooded through him. "Hey, how are you doing?"

"I've been better" said Sam, blinking himself to awareness.

"Can you move yet?"

"No," answered Sam, "but my arms and legs feel like they got a million needles sticking in them."

Dean nodded at that comment. "That's a good sign." said Dean. "You want to try to sit up?"

"Yeah." Dean pulled Sam up to a sitting position. The color was starting to come back to his face and Sam was sounding stronger. He began to move his fingers a little and he got some movement in his neck. He looked at Dean and raised his eyebrows.

"What?' asked Dean, wondering what the expression was for.

Sam's features were returning and he stifled a giggle. "What are you wearing dude," he said causing Dean to look down at the robe.

He pulled it closer to him, feeling a tad embarrassed. "Long story. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Ok, whatever" said Sam knowing there were more important things at hand. "So, what's the plan?"

"I'm working on it" said Dean giving his brother a once over. There was a definite improvement and he was beginning to look like himself again. Then, he caught something in Sam's eyes. "We're going to get out of here Sammy."

Sam raised his head a bit and spoke, clearly trying to send a message to his brother, "Dean, I need you to leave me. I want you to get out of here."

Dean, taken aback by the force from his brother, answered confidently. "I told you I'm not leaving you, so just forget it." He got up and started looking around the room again, feeling a bit desperate at Sam's comment.
"Dean, they're going to kill you!" said Sam, feeling a little more in his fingers and toes.

"They're going to kill both of us Sam! They said I was the first sacrifice. Who the hell do you think is second? What makes you think if I escaped that they would let you live," he addressed his brother, probably a little louder than he meant to. "You don't give up this easy Sam. What's going on in that freaky head of yours?"

"Nothing" said Sam clamming up. His brother could be the most stubborn man on the face of the planet.

"That's not true Sam. What is it?" Dean went over and sat down by Sam. "What's wrong Sammy?"

Sam was obviously struggling with his next words, wishing them to not be true. He finally met eyes with Dean. "I think that Papa Theodore can still control me, and I don't want you to die."

"What are you talking about," asked Dean incredulously. "A couple of days ago you would have killed Papa Theodore if I had not pulled you off of him. That's not someone that's being controlled."

"I know," began Sam, "but this morning when I was waiting at the motel room for them to contact me about you, all Papa Theodore had to do was speak to me in that voice." He stopped himself remember the feeling of helplessness that overcame him that morning. "I don't want them to use me to try to kill you again. I can't take it Dean. You've got to leave me here."

Dean jumped up from the bed. "Forget it Sam! I'm not leaving you! I'm getting you out of here," Dean cried, but in the back of his mind, he was worried. What if it happens again? "You're my brother Sam. If you don't leave, I don't leave."

Sam realized that Dean would never leave him, no matter how much he begged him to. There was only one thing to do. Get the hell out! He started to get up on his feet.

"What are you doing," Dean asked as he ran to Sam's aid.

"I think I can stand up now. If we're going to get out of here, I don't want you to have to carry me." They heard someone coming and Dean ran over to the door. He shot Sam a look wondering if he could help.

Sam shook his head. "I can't fight Dean, not yet. I'm too weak."

Dean looked his brother up and down. "I know. We're gonna play possum."

"Good Idea," he said as he lay back down on the bed. Dean went over to him, pretending to be caring for his brother. He heard the key in the lock and looked toward the door. Frank and one of his goons entered and looked over at Dean.
"How are you Dean," said Frank, taunting Dean. He knew how to get his goat.

Dean just glared at him. Finally he said, "Why are you doing this? You called us here to help you. You set us up! I actually felt sorry for you?"

"Oh that's nice" said Frank sarcastically, brushing Dean's anger toward him away. "How's our boy?"

Dean's muscles tightened as Frank's gaze landed on Sam. "What did you do to him?"

"I just gave him a little something so he wouldn't try to escape. He's ok." Frank made his way over to Sam. "It's not his time yet. We're just taking precautions so he stays put."

"It's not just keeping him from leaving, it's making him sick," shouted Dean, getting ready to pounce. "If you keep giving it to him, you're going to kill him."

Frank couldn't help himself from laughing at the irony. "Oh, well, he's going to die anyway," said Frank as he pulled the syringe from his pocket and leaned in toward Sam. "It's time for another dose."

"You're not giving him anymore of that," screamed Dean and rushed Frank, grabbing his arm. The goon reacted quickly and grabbed Dean, pulling him off Frank. He put his arm around Dean's neck so he couldn't move. Frank looked down at Sam.

"Hello, Sam how are you feeling?" said Frank in a soothing voice. Sam didn't say anything. "Not talking? I can hardly believe that. This morning you had all kinds of things to say. "

"Leave him alone," struggled Dean.

He knew the jig was up. Sam opened his eyes and looked at Frank. "Please! No more!" Dean's heart was breaking and he tried to break free from the man's grip. Frank was already pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. He was about to stick in the syringe when Sam unexpectedly grabbed his arm.

"NO!" shouted Frank. Dean hit the guy that was holding him, in the side with his elbow. Then hit him in the face knocking him out. He ran over to Sam who was still struggling to hold off Frank. The needle was making its way closer to Sam. Dean with a force of adrenaline grabbed Frank by the collar and hit him hard in the face, knocking him down.

He ran to Sam's side, helping him up. "Come on, let's both get out of here!" Sam nodded and got up. Dean was on his way to the door. Sam made it a few steps but fell. Dean heard the thud. "Sam!" He ran back to his brother, trying to get him back up.

Sam's face was wet and he looked exhausted. "I'm weak," he managed.

"Yeah, I know" said Dean, taking a moment to brush the hair out of his eyes. "Come on" and helped Sam to his feet again. He put Sam's arm around his neck and grabbed him around his waist. "We got to go, now." They started toward the door and out of the cell. They were just making strides when they turned the corner and ran straight in to Papa Theodore.