Powerless

Summary: Fights and lies have driven a wedge between the Winchesters so when Sam wakes up to find himself confronted by one of his worst fears he must choose if the changes Hell made to his brother have finally crossed a line or if the sudden violence he's powerless to prevent is something more. Secrets both Sam and Dean are forced to face will also decide their fate and future.

Warnings: Graphic violence, non-con/rape both on scene and implied as well as non-con drugging of character so trigger warnings will apply for the first two chapters, especially chapter two. Graphic language is also used.

Yes, there will be healing and a happy ever after (this is one of my stories afterall but there is dark stuff before that. This piece is set in Season Four and after events from 4x14 thru 4x17 so in case you haven't caught up to those episodes yet there might be slight spoilers in some cases.

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Beta'd By: Lotrspnfangirl

Author Note: This is my 2020 submission over on LiveJournal for the SPN Reverse Bang. There is art for it that you can see Here by deeranger. This is the first story I've written in over two years it seems so hopefully this will jump start the muse.

Chapter One

Pain. It was the sharp, stabbing sensation shooting up from the base of his spine into the back of his head that brought a groggy, confused Sam Winchester closer to the edge of consciousness. He couldn't push back into awareness completely, something keeping his mind and body from fully connecting.

Groaning, he tried to reach back to touch the base of his skull where the worst of the pain was coming from. It only took a few seconds for the hunter to realize his hands had been tied behind his back. The next thing he realized was not only were his ankles tied, but they'd been pulled up and connected with the rope binding his wrists, effectively hog-tying him.

Fighting the brief surge of panic Sam could feel rising in his chest, he forced himself to ignore the pain and attempted to shift his body, moving his head so he could at least see where he was. If he was lucky, he might even get an idea of what the hell was happening. As his shoulder slid against the ground, it suddenly hit him that not only had he also been gagged and blinded, some type of thick cloth over his head, but that he was also naked.

The last realization nearly overrode Sam's best attempts to not panic; while waking up tied and gagged were things to be concerned over, doing their fair share to hit a few of his larger panic buttons, the fact that he was alsonaked told the confused hunter that whatever the hell was happening was worse than anything he could think of.

As the fog in his brain began to clear, the hunter forced himself to stay still and take a slow, deep breath through his nose. It proved to be a bad move, causing him to nearly gag at the foul smell that flooded his senses. He couldn't pinpoint if it was coming from the hood itself or wherever he was, and that was another thing - he was definitely not still at the motel that he and Dean had - Dean.

A flash of memory hit the hunter as he struggled to put the pieces of scattered, painful thoughts together of how the hell he'd ended up in this position. As he tried to compose his memory, a bigger concern began to nibble at the back of his mind, succeeding in overriding his original sense of panic with terror anew.

He forced himself to inhale the foul smelling air in an attempt to clear his foggy mind. Sam had to close his eyes to try and stop the little white dots that had begun to swirl and cloud his vision. He knew passing out, as well as throwing up while gagged, was not an option at the moment.

While trying to listen for any type of noise that might clue him in to where he'd been taken, the younger Winchester struggled to bring back his last, fleeting memories.

The hunter recalled the run down motel they'd chosen to stop at in some small town in Louisiana. The case he'd picked up appeared to be a simple vengeful spirit, a simple salt and burn was something both Winchesters decided would be good for them. Given their most recent cases, and after recent crap that continued to rain down on them, the tension between them only seemed to increase and put Dean more on edge.

Sam had known the moment his older brother had returned from four months, or really forty years, trapped and tortured in Hell after selling his soul to protect Sam, to learn of things Sam had done in that time, wouldn't go well.

The fights between them were bad and Sam knew both of them had said and done things to hurt the other recently. It came to a head, however, during that mess with the goddamn Siren. The creature had managed to screw with both of their heads and nearly got them both killed. If Bobby hadn't gotten to them in time...

Of course, it wasn't only the words said between them that Sam knew had caused things to be tense and awkward between them, but between the mess with the reapers and Pamela's death, the crap stunts by Zachariah and the other angels forcing Dean to confront a multitude of darkness, past and present, and Dean learning what Sam had done to Alastair... it didn't seem like they'd ever have time to talk about the issues that were once again threatening to tear them apart. Sam almost laughed at the idea. It didn't look like Dean was even interested in talking to him. Not going by the way he dropped Sam off at the motel with a muttered excuse to go grab food and find a bar.

A brief whisper of a cold breeze graced Sam's back, making him shiver and try to twist away. He didn't budge, however, and he became aware of just how heavy his body was. He tried to breathe through the next wave of panic threatening to overwhelm him as the memory of a needle piercing his neck entered his mind. A second memory flooded over the first, and Sam briefly recalled the too hot, too steamy hotel room, with it's useless shower, and too many thoughts of Dean in a way that he was struggling to avoid. The motel phone had rang and saved him from that particular sin, and it was after that that Sam's memories became more spotty.

He'd hastily thrown on a towel, running out of the bathroom to answer the phone. The hotel manager informed him his brother had locked himself out of their room and was requesting for Sam to open the door 'before their damn food got cold'. Sam did, or at least… he thinks he did. He at the very least unlocked the door so Dean could come in. Then there was pain, sharp and sudden. Sam remembered the solid, metal door opening and shutting with a bang, though the order of those might have been reversed…

The sound of slamming door vibrated through his very bones, shaking Sam to the core, but everything was drowned out by the heavy steps approaching him. Sam struggled in his binds as he remembered the sound, the boots so much like Dean's but they weren't, they couldn't have been. He tried not to hyperventilate as the memory took over, pulling him down into panic. The last thing he could remember of the hotel room was the pain in the center of his chest and vibrant green eyes he knew so well.

Sam was just vaguely aware of his entire body taught, the rope biting into his flesh. His fingers and toes were nearly numb, and a sob fell from his mouth from under the gag. But he could still hear those footsteps, real as the cold air on his skin. He suddenly jerked as calloused fingertips ran down his arm. For the first time since waking up, the hunter was glad for both the gag and hood, the situation was even worse than he'd feared. The voice that spoke both chilled him and terrified.

"Hey, little brother. Guess it's time we had some fun."

TBC