As promised here is another chapter. There is only two more left after this. Thank you to everyone that had taken the time to review the other chapter. After I finish this I can catch up on some serious reading. So, nope, I haven't forgotten about any of you, life has just been busy. Here we go! Love! Lo
Chapter Ten
"You haven't smoked in over an hour. I'm impressed," Dean said amusingly, as he drove through the snow littered highway.
"Warming up to me, Dean?" Katz replied with a smile.
"No, just keeping to that saying, you know the one that goes, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, so you can kill the son-of-a-bitch later," Dean said, never taking his eyes off of the road. He gripped the steering wheel forcefully. The snow had slowed down his driving speed, and it was frustrating him immensely. He wanted to get to Sammy fast, but the damn snow kept falling, adding onto the already three inches it had placed earlier.
Katz laughed, honestly amused by Dean's statement, and replied, "Didn't think it was appropriate to smoke in your car; that is all."
"Hey, there is a no smoking rule in my baby, but if it kills you faster, then go for it," Dean chuckled at the thought of the man dying a slow and painful death, but he was sure that cancer wouldn't be fates way of offing the man, no; he was reserving Katz's death for himself.
Sam woke up with a haze-glassed look. The fever that rampaged through his body was clouding his thoughts, like there were tiny tendrils interweaving through the coherent section of his brain, gripping them tightly, never releasing. His body shook with chills. Beads of sweat fell from his forehead, dangling in the air, suspended, and then splashing onto the altar, hitting the stone with such speed, that the noise blasted throughout Sam's eardrums. He tried to block out the constant dripping, but with no avail. The inside of his body was on fire, but his skin felt so cold. He could hear the blood pumping through his veins, trying to fight off the sickness that dwelled deep within.
Sam looked up at the ceiling. The music had stopped hours ago, now it was silent. No one was down here with him, he knew. They always left him alone. His muddled mind tried to relive the conversation he had with Katz hours before, but couldn't clearly pull the images into his mind. His mind was that far gone. He couldn't even think. He concentrated on the conversation, shifting thoughts around, trying to find the right one. He remembered the man talking, but what did he say? Then it hit him, as if the tendrils in his mind eased their grip, allowing his mind to access fragments of the discussion. Katz told him… "If you want Dean to live, you will do it." Sam remembered asking the man what, but he replied with an elusive statement. All he said was, you'll know.
Sam heard the door upstairs open and shut. Someone was approaching the basement door. The dark room that Sam was being held in flooded with a sudden stream of bright white light. He could hear footsteps, two sets of them, coming down the creaky wooden panels. His heart rate increased in the suspense of not knowing who was coming. Sam thought that it was the tight stringed coils still wrapped around his brain, but he could have sworn he heard Dean. He closed his eyes, trying to rid his thoughts of such madness. Dean wouldn't be here, he had no idea where he was, and there were two people coming down here.
Sam felt a hand on his chest, the hand embedding a cold chill into his fever-racked body when it pressed harder onto his skin. Then he heard it again, or; at least thought he heard it, Dean calling his name. Sam opened his eyes, but his vision was blurred. He blinked several times, trying to free his eyes of the white fog that was blocking his vision. A few more blinks later things were starting to focus for the young hunter. Sam nearly fainted when his vision captured the smiling face of his brother standing over him. Sam felt like he would never see him again, and now he was standing above him. Tears swelled up the corner of his eyes, each drop filled with the hope that he had been holding onto this whole time.
"God, Sammy, what did they do to you?" Dean said, as he examined his brother's cut ridden body.
Sam smiled, a lopsided goofy smile, and chuckled. Dean stared at his brother's smile. God, he had waited to see that smile for so long. No emotion could ever be defined for the one that rolled through Dean's body right now. No dictionary could ever publish a word for Dean's feeling right now. The wonderful feeling of relief fluttered through his body relentlessly. Dean just needed to figure a way to get Sam out of here.
Dean smiled back at Sam. "God, it is so good to see you smile, Sam." Dean lifted his hand up and moved it up towards his brother's sweat covered face. He brushed the bangs from Sam's eyes, heat radiating off Sam's forehead and stinging Dean's hands, as he moved the locks of hair. Dean worriedly stared at Sam. "You have a fever."
"Yeah," Sam weakly said. He hadn't had any water in over a day, and his fever-parched lips longed for the sweet drops of the substance. He turned away from Dean, not wanting to look at his brother's worried gaze any longer.
Dean leaned in closer towards Sam's face, his lips inches from his brother's ear. He paused. He could hear Sam struggling to intake each breath of air. Dean turned his head to the side, staring at the beads of perspiration dripping from the sides of Sam's face, locks of hair clinging to the side of his face; the glistening wet strands of hair a shade darker then his brother's natural hair color. Dean slid his hand across the coarse stone of the altar, and lightly brushed Sam's shackled hand. He pulled Sam's hand into his and tightly interwove their fingers together, squeezing firmly, trying to let Sam know he was here for him. Dean wanted to tell Sam how much he had missed him, how much he had worried, that he had never given up hope, but it was as if someone was closing his vocal cords shut, their grip around them never-ending. Each cord compressed to their limit that even if a word was uttered it would have been nonsense, incoherent drivel. He was never good at showing emotion, and now when his brother needed him, he was speechless.
What bothered Dean the most was Sam's vacant stare, like he was looking at something unseen by anyone else, only his hazel eyes could capture its invisible essence.
"Sam, man, I'm gonna get you out of here. I promise, just hang on for me, okay? Trust me," Dean whispered softly into Sam's ear, his lips warmed by a combination of his hot breaths bouncing off of Sam's neck, and the burning wave of heat emanating from his brother's skin. Dean honestly didn't know what to say. His joy was turning, evaporating quickly into rage the more he analyzed his brother's current condition. He had wanted more then anything to have seen Sammy, but now; now it was different. His brother wasn't fine. There was a large symbol carved into his abdomen, he had a fever, and he was staring at nothing, not even registering Dean's complete presence. His nostrils flared with fury, as he turned his attention back towards Katz. His green eyes sparked with a passion that could only be deciphered as hate. Katz had several occult members surrounding him. Dean had never noticed their quiet entrance. He kicked himself mentally for letting his hunter's sense slip for a moment. He had been too preoccupied with Sam that he wasn't listening to his surroundings.
"Let's begin, shall we?" Katz said, with an iniquitous sneer on his face.
Two of the men seized Dean, and roughly grabbed the back of his arms. Dean didn't fight them; he let them handcuff him willingly. Katz thought that was odd, Dean has so much spunk, and fight, he wouldn't accept capture willingly. Katz's lips curled into a thin smile, the realization of why Dean wasn't resisting him becoming clear. He walked over slowly towards the now handcuffed Dean, and reached behind the hunters back, pulling a gun out of Dean's waistband.
He waved the gun in front of Dean mockingly. "Think I would forget this? Nope. You sly devil you, Dean." Katz handed the gun to another member of the cult, and watched as the other two men forced Dean over to the side of the altar, in perfect view of Sam. Katz wanted Dean to watch this. He wanted to watch as his brother summoned forth their master. It will be a beautiful site.
Dean struggled with the men. Sam was just lying there, looking worse with every moment that passed. Dean watched as Katz pulled the amulet out of the box, and approached Sam. He dangled the amulet in front of Sam's face, letting the silver metal swing back and forth a few times before stopping it. He leaned down and placed the chain around Sam's neck, and then moved the amulet towards the center of Sam's chest.
Katz walked over to one of the members that were holding a black cloth in their outstretched hands. Katz lifted the cloth up, revealing a small dagger. He grabbed the dagger and headed back over towards Sam. Fear rushed through Dean, as the knife wielding maniac approached his baby brother.
"If you hurt my brother anymore then you have, I can guarantee I will not only kill you, but revive you and kill you again," Dean warned, but Katz ignored him and continued to walk towards Sam.
He hovered over the young hunter, and stared at the fevered face of the boy. His mind was weak from fever; maybe they wouldn't need Dean to complete the ritual. Katz turned and looked at the older hunter with a grin. No, they would keep him in just in case. Leverage is a sweet advantage to have. Katz grabbed Sam's right hand and opened it up. Katz dragged the dagger slowly over Sam's palm. Then he looked over his shoulder at one of his men, and nodded. The man opened up a small back book that he was holding, and started to recite something in Latin.
Katz looked at Sam's face one more time before he pierced his skin. Sam let out a strangled cry as the blade cut across the tender flesh of the palm. Dean stood there and was forced to watch as the man continued to cut his baby brother. His heart pounded madly as he watched Sam squirm, trying to move his hand away from the bastard.
"Stop it!" Dean yelled. He bit his bottom lip in frustration and tried to get away from the two lackeys that were holding him. Dean stopped struggling when he remembered something. God, he mentally cursed himself. How could he have forgotten? Dean kicked the side of one of the man's legs, causing him to fall slightly. Dean took that opportunity to reach into his back pocket and pull out a small black box. The man regained his composure and took hold of Dean's arm again; never taking notice to the small box Dean was holding in his hand. Dean turned his attention back on his brother. Sam looked worse then he had seconds ago. Dean could tell he was suffering. Sam's breathing was labored, it wasn't controlled at all, and it was worsening the longer his brother had to endure the torture. The poor kid looked like he would hyperventilate at any moment.
Katz finished carving the symbols on both of Sam's hands, and then walked over towards the middle of the altar. He placed the bloody dagger on top of one of Sam's blood caked gashes. Then he moved the dagger and rested the tip of the blade in the center of the scored symbol that he had engraved onto Sam's stomach yesterday. Katz looked over and motioned for another member of the cult to come over. The man walked over and handed Katz a small brown pouch.
"This part might sting a little, Sam," Katz mockingly warned, as he opened the pouch up, and dumped the contents onto Sam's stomach, around the tip of the blade.
Sam's heart started beating vigorously, each thud painfully pounding in his skull, as it echoed throughout his sore body. He lifted up his head weakly, trying to see what the man was doing to him. Katz rubbed the red liquid that he had poured onto Sam's abdomen, in a circle like motion. Without warning he thrust the blade in half way, ensuring he wouldn't hit any vital organs, but deep enough to inflict pain. Sam gritted his teeth together, and a muffled scream sounded through the air when the knife was embedded into his abdomen.
Dean watched in terror. "God, stop it, you crazy son-of-a-bitch!"
Again, Katz ignored him, and continued with the task at hand – the ritual. He twirled the knife around creating a hole in the center of Sam's abdomen. Sam bit his bottom lip, grunting at the fiery pain that was exploding in the center of his body. Something foreign was entering his body. Whatever liquid that Katz had poured onto his body was now flowing inside of him.
Through his ragged breaths, Sam spoke, "What... is... that?"
"Blood," Katz replied curtly. "Our masters."
Sam was disgusted; he had some kind demon blood inside of him. Sam forced the contents of his stomach back down his throat. The warm sensation of the demon's blood coursed through his body, attacking every organ unmercifully. Sam could feel it, moving; the liquid stirring around on the inside of his body. Then he felt it pause, the warm liquid wrapping around his veins, covering the string like organs completely. As if the liquid had sharp teeth they bit into his veins, piercing the tender blood filled tubes, and making their way into his bloodstream. Sam was panting heavily, as the warm sensation never let up, relentlessly attacking cruelly. The pain was starting to wear down the young hunter, and the fever that was still plaguing his senses taxed the last reserves of his strength.
Dean tried to block out his brother's cries, and small whimpers of pain. He had to concentrate if this was going to work. Sammy would thank him when it was all over. Dean continued to move his hands around busily behind his back, the two goons not suspecting his motives at all.
"The first part is done. Now, onto the part we talked about Sammy," Katz said, purposely using Sam's nickname to aggravate Dean. It was working, because Dean hadn't said anything, he just glared at him.
"I don't know what you want me to do," Sam whispered, the pain was making it so hard to do anything more than breathe right now.
"I am going to recite the incantation, but the small catch is you have to be the one that releases him. It is your body, your soul, your energy that is bringing him forth. You must say the final word," Katz said, as he inched closer towards Dean.
Sam saw the man moving towards his brother, knowing that they were going to most likely use Dean to try to persuade his decision. That is why Dean was still alive. Why they hadn't killed him, they needed him. Sam screamed internally. Could this get any worse?
Katz gave the dagger to another member of the cult, as the man handed him a new one, one that wasn't covered in his brother's blood. Katz threateningly put the dagger up against Dean's throat, the cold metal tip nicking his skin lightly. He averted his attention back towards Sam. Dean frantically continued to work behind his back; he just needed a bit longer. One thing that Katz had forgotten was the lock pick Dean had placed in his back pocket. He was so close to getting the box open. Dean felt the small box click and he hurriedly closed his hands, making sure that the silver pick didn't fall out of the box. He slid the small silver pick into his fingers. Now he just needed them to make some kind of noise so he could drop the box and get to work.
Katz studied Sam, as he pulled out his box of cigarettes, lighting one as he started to speak. "All you need to say, Sam," Katz paused and inhaled the nicotine stick and then blew out a puff of smoke before continuing, "is the Latin word for release. You know what that is right?"
Katz removed the blade from Dean's throat and walked back over to Sam. "You do know what it is right?"
Sam nodded, and glared at the man in anger. He hated when someone used Dean against him. The choice was always obvious; he would die for his brother. "Yes, exi—"
Katz placed his hand over Sam's mouth. "No, no, not yet. Don't say it, yet. But that is correct."
Katz returned his attention towards Dean. "Maybe this is your lucky day. I think your brother is going to say it willingly after all." Katz patted Dean's cheek in a sarcastic manner, and smiled.
Dean swallowed hard, and looked up at Sam. "Sammy," Dean yelled. "Don't do it, man. I'll figure a way out of here, just bare with me. Okay, Sammy?"
Sam listened to his brother's words attentively. Something wasn't right. Sure Dean called him Sammy a lot, but not like that. Sam looked up and locked eyes with his brother's confident ones. Sam let his head rest back against the cold stone, and laughed a crazed laugh. Dean had a way out of here. He would just have to wait for big bro to come to the rescue.
"I hear you, Dean. If that is what you want, then it is your funeral," Sam said, still smiling as he spoke. Dean would know what Sam meant. Dean would know that Sam knew what he was trying to hint to him.
"This is an interesting twist," Katz said, still puffing on the cigarette. He cocked his head to the side, and looked at Dean bewilderedly. "Okay, if pain is what you want."
Katz lifted up the dagger and plunged it into Dean's stomach lightly, only the tip of the blade disappearing into his skin. Dean let out a painful grunt as he tightened his stomach muscles. God, he had to hurry. He was almost done. He could feel the layers of metal the lock pick was going through; just a bit more and he would be free.
"You hear that, Sam," Katz yelled at the hunter lying on the table.
Katz turned his head back towards Dean, and glared at him. "I am going to make you suffer, and your brother will say what I want him to."
Dean grinned, as he tried to mask the pain that coursed through his body. He said, in a rasped voice, "Bite me."
Katz shook his head in anger and pushed the knife in further. Dean let out a stifled groan. Katz stopped and turned his head back over towards Sam. "See this, your brother will die and it will be your fault. Say it! Take the easy way out, save your brother!" Katz screamed. He then looked at Dean and smiled vindictively, as he started reciting something in Latin.
Katz pushed the knife into Dean's stomach, with every Latin word that escaped through his lips, the blade advanced through the hunter's abdomen excruciatingly. Dean closed his eyes, the pain was becoming unbearable. He really needed to hurry. His sweaty hands fiddled with the lock pick, trying frantically to find the center of the lock and snap it open.
Katz stopped reciting the incantation and looked back at Sam. "If you say it I will end his pain."
Dean knew that his struggled noises of pain were most likely wearing on his brother's mind. He needed Sammy to hold on for just another moment. "Don't listen to him, Sam."
"Listen to me, Sam. Say it!" Katz bellowed, and then continued in Latin. Katz leaned in and whispered gently into Dean's ear, "You know, no matter what, he will die. Even if he says it, his soul belongs to our master."
Dean's eyes widened in fear; the urgency to shred the metal bindings his wrist becoming an even more pressing task. Dean felt the pick connect with the part that was latched down. His heart was beating nervously, the thought of his brother dying weighing heavily on his already flustered mind. He just needed one more minute and he would be free. Katz pushed the knife in a little bit further, and Dean tried to pull away from the pain. God, it hurt so bad, he could barely concentrate. He could feel the blood sliding down his stomach now. He really needed to hurry if they both were going to make it out of here alive.
Sam didn't know what to do. His fevered mind was so foggy that he was starting to doubt his initial thoughts. What if Dean didn't have a way out and he was just saying that so Sam didn't do it? What if Dean was trying to protect him? Sam let out a frustrated cry, as the room started to swiftly spin around. He didn't know what to do.
Katz finished the incantation. Now, all that was left was getting Sam to say the final word. His eyes now focused solely on the young hunter. He continued with his verbal onslaught. "Say it!"
"Don't say it, Sam!" Dean yelled back, knowing that if Sam gave in it would cost him his life.
"Do it!" Katz lamented again.
"Sam, don't," Dean shouted, trying to focus his mind on two tasks, getting the lock off, and saving Sam.
"Do it now or he dies!"
"Please, Sammy, just a bit longer," Dean pleaded.
"Stop it!" Sam yelled back, his breathing even more strained then it was minutes ago. "I can't think!"
"Then do it, Sam. End Dean's pain, and yours," Katz pressed further. He knew he was close. Sam was breaking.
"Sammy, c'mon, man. Hang on!" Dean tried to reason with his brother.
Sam's thoughts rushed in and out of his brain so fast. He could hear Dean yelling at him, pain filled in his brother's every word. Then it dawned on him, as if he had forgotten it just moments ago, and then suddenly remembered. Dean was in pain! Dean needed him. But Dean said to wait. Katz said to say it. Sam cried out, he didn't know what to do. It all was coming at him so fast, and his mind couldn't take it anymore.
Katz continued on with his attack. "Sam! Say it!"
Dean felt the lock twisting inside of the cuffs. He looked up at Sam. His brother looked worse. Sweat was no longer falling in beads, but streams down his fevered-flush face. Dean could see the struggle in Sam's eyes. If Dean didn't hurry his brother was going to snap. Sammy just had to wait a few more seconds. "Sam, don't!"
"Do it!"
"Don't!"
"Do it!"
"Don't, Sammy!"
"Do it!" Katz screamed loudly, and he pressed the blade into Dean's stomach harder then he had before. Dean let out a wail of pain as the knife sliced through his skin.
Sam heard his brother scream. Dean was in pain that was the only thought running through his mind now. Dean needed him. Dean… Dean would die. Sam's frantic mind tried to piece together what was right. Sam heard Dean cry out again.
Dean hissed as Katz twirled the knife, once again yelling at Sam, "Do it or my next push will be fatal!"
Dean rejoiced as the cuffs clicked and then fell off of his wrists. He did it!
"Do it, Sam! Save your brother!" Katz screamed, oblivious to Dean's newfound freedom.
Sam started breathing rapidly, each breath a short rasp, he was near hyperventilation.
Dean moved backwards, growling at the sudden shock of pain that rushed over his body when he slid the knife out of his stomach.
Sam heard his brother scream again. The short gasps of air worsening every time he heard Dean cry out in pain.
Katz noticed that Dean was free. He had to act now. "Dean is dying, Sam! Do it!"
Sam couldn't think, all he could hear was Dean and dying. Dying? Dean was dying. Sam gasped for air, and the labored breathing continued, his heart beating faster and faster, not stopping, everything moving so fast.
Sam could barely breathe; when he screamed out loudly, "Eximo!"