The Institute

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone from Supernatural nor do I profit in any way. I just write for the love of writing about the boys and hurting them on the odd occasion.

Warnings:

Rated for language, violence and torture.

NO Wincest or Slash involved in this or any of my stories.

Author's Note: This is not a supernatural story as such, though the demon may make an appearance later on.

Just one little other thing no agencies or agents were brainwashed, manipulated or tortured in anyway. :0)

CHAPTER 4 - What Are You Called?

Startled Tobias watched as the smaller objects flew across the room, but then the brace holding Sam's head fell apart, the cuffs shattered and Sam stood in the centre of the maelstrom of flying objects, paper, books, small pieces of machinery. His eyes shone with a dark light as he stared at the doctor. As quickly as the created storm started it stopped and Sam slumped lifelessly to the floor his body shaking with unshed tears. Dean's dead and there's nothing more he could do except offer himself to the darkness and wish that Grace can't bring him back. 'I'm coming big brother,' the whisper passed his lips as his eyes fluttered shut.

Tobias shook himself out of his stupor and stared around the room in shock, everything including the furniture was scattered like pieces of litter on the wind. All of the glass screens of the monitors were shattered as well as the windows.

Guards stood inside the now open door staring in disbelief at the carnage, 'are you alright Doctor Schlatter?'

'Yes, yes more than alright do see you what it did with just its mind?'

'Subject twenty-two?'

'Yes!' Tobias yelped excitedly as he crouched down in front of Sam and checked his vital signs. 'Take it back to its cell, when subject twenty-one is completely rested place them together so it can be healed.'

'Then what doctor?'

'I have found the trigger to controlling subject twenty-two, when it is fully assimilated and trained it will be a leading force for the new wave. It is to be given full rations this evening and allow it to have a new top.'

'Yes Doctor.'

'Oh and Summers.'

Yes doctor?' the burly guard looked up at the doctor from his crouch next to Sam.

'I do not want subject twenty-two hurt in anyway now unless I expressly order it or it is required for it's tests and examinations. I am making it your responsibility from now on, something happens to subject twenty-two then the same will happen to you.'

'I understand completely Doctor,' Summers said slipping his arms under Sam's bony form, 'come on kid ... subject twenty-two.' Summers carried Sam out of the room without looking back, still in awe of the power of this kid's mind. The others all had strong powers but none of them had done anything to match that carnage. Even those more experienced with the telekinesis.

Sam moaned and shifted slightly as Summers tugged a shirt over his head and then again, when the guard lowered him onto the hard bunk. 'No ... more.'

'Don't worry kid, you're not gonna get hurt again for now.' Summers said as he stared down at Sam's pale features. The was the first contact he had had with the boy since they brought him in. Normally Summers worked with the assimilated psychics but after the rough treatment dealt out by the other guards assigned to the new arrivals Summers found himself here.

Not much older than his own younger brother, Summers felt a twinge of guilt at the way the boy had been used so violently up until now.

'Well at least while I'm around no one else is gonna hurt you kid.'

'S-Sam, name's Sam.' Sam croaked out trying to focus on the man's face.

'Sam listen to me carefully, you have to learn to curb your stubbornness, don't say your name to anyone else. To them you're subject twenty-two and that's it. For me though I can call you Sam when we're alone okay?'

Sam nodded his head confused at the sudden niceness offered, 'why?'

'Coz I got a kid brother your age and well let's just say that I don't agree with the way they force you psychics to do whatever you do.'

'Cold,' Sam whispered as he started to shiver, Summers cursed under his breath and hurried out to find a better blanket than the thin and holey one provided.

'Sam?' Grace's voice came from deep within her cell, she sounded tired but pain-free.

'Grace ... you okay?'

'Why did you stop the healing today?'

'Killing ... you.' Sam pushed out through his chattering teeth, 'ah my head.' Sam winced and pinched the bridge of his nose.

'Sam?' Grace called again her voice filled with panic.

'Ah my head ... it hurts ... ahhh.' Sam toppled off the bench as a new vision assaulted his senses.

Flashes of bright light blinded him, faceless bodies circled him, and laughter filled the air. As the flashes cleared, he watched as they kept beating Dean, Sam screamed and ran for his brother an invisible chain around his throat prevented him from reaching Dean. He caught Dean's eyes as smoke filled the room, the glowing embers of a fire circled Dean. The flames licked the walls creeping upwards like a vine towards the ceiling. 'Dean.' Sam screamed again as the faceless bodies started to catch fire, the stench of burning flesh nauseating Sam. The chain gave finally and Sam ran to his brother, reaching out their fingertips meeting before unseen forces pulled them apart.

Sam opened his eyes and winced at the brightness in the room, he stared at the worried face of his guard, 'Dean, I have to find Dean.' Sam said urgently, struggling to stand.

'Whoa you're not going anywhere Sam.' Summers placed his hands on Sam's shoulders and pushed him onto the bunk.

'I have to find Dean now.' Sam insisted pushing against the stronger man.

'Listen to me, did you have a vision?' Summers asked glancing around to see if anyone was lurking behind them.

'Yeah, I – I ... saw Dean. My brother.' Sam wept brokenly, curling in on himself; he pulled his knees to his chest and sobbed. 'They killed him.'

Dean sat back and finished his last beer, grudgingly he had to admit that the picnic was really good and he did feel a lot better having a full stomach of seemingly healthy food he watched Sandy through slitted eyes as she cleared away the last of the food. She had been chatty enough, chatting about everything and anything as long as it didn't have Sam or the institute in it.

Sighing deeply he drained the bottle and stood up offering to help with the dishes, 'oh no Dean please you just relax I'll get rid of these and make a pot of coffee,' Sandy smiled brightly disappearing into the kitchen.

Dean glanced down at his watch, this was the longest lunch break in history for a diner waitress, suspicious of her already his internal alarm started to sound, he looked at his watch again, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. They had been picnicking for the last nine hours. He remembered starting the picnic with her, they chatted, he remembered eating something nice and then some desert. And then sitting back finishing his beer.

Taking a step towards the kitchen Dean felt himself listing to his right side, holding onto the back of the sofa he tried again but his lower body just didn't want to respond. While he stood, still he felt alright but as soon as he tried to walk, he found his knees like jelly and falling to his right side again.

'How do you like your coffee?' Sandy asked breezing through the door again ignoring Dean's obvious distress.

'What did you do to me Sandy?' Dean snapped holding onto the couch as another urge to topple hit him, his balance all over the place frustrating him to the point of letting his anger at the woman loose. 'What happened this afternoon, I'm missing like five hours, what the freaking hell is going on?'

'Dean please let me help you sit down first,' Sandy replied calmly, she placed the tray holding the coffee pot, mugs on the table, and went back to Dean's side. Looping her arm around his waist, she guided him to one of the overstuffed chairs.

'Tell the what the hell is going on Sandy now.'

'Or what Dean?' She smiled prettily, 'coffee?'

'Talk to me damn it, what did you do drug the food?'

'Oh nothing as crass as that,' Sandy said handing him a steaming hot mug of black coffee, 'drink it, it will help with the side effects.'

'What side effects?' Dean demanded, 'quit with the Carol Brady routine and start explaining yourself.'

'Oh very well, if you insist. You looked exhausted and I know you're not sleeping, I hear you pacing your room at night, so I thought that I'd slip you a couple of sleeping tablets in your beer.'

'Sleeping pills?'

'Yep, you just looked so tired and I thought that it would be the best way for you to get some decent rest.' Sandy explained calmly sipping her coffee she crossed her legs and regarded Dean with a level stare. 'You do look a lot better.'

'How long was I out?'

'Umm let's see oh all up about five hours I guess, long enough for me to get back to work and finish my shift.'

Dean growled and ran his hand over his face wiping away invisible webs that only he could feel. 'Do you realise that Sam could be dead? They could have killed him in those five hours and I had no way of saving him.'

'I don't think they will kill him Dean.'

'Why would you say that Sandy?'

'They are a research institution, I have been a paid volunteer there myself. A way to earn some quick cash and they pay well too.'

'Volunteer for what?'

'Usually a drug therapy that is ready for human trials, sometimes it is to try a test out before they use it on their main subjects.'

'When was the last time you were there Sandy?'

'Umm about a week before you came to town.' Sandy cocked her head to one side and regarded Dean with a thoughtful look, 'you don't think that I had anything to do with Sam's disappearance do you Dean?'

'No, no it's just ... you took me by surprise that's all.' Dean mumbled blushing slightly.

'I am sorry Dean but I thought I was helping,' Sandy said hurt showing in her eyes.

'Hey, hey it's okay I'm sorry I shouldn't be yelling at you, just that I don't do ...this... that well.'

'Do what?'

'Recover from sleeping pills I don't remember taking.' Dean grinned and picked up his coffee again. 'This really is good coffee Sandy, thanks.'

'My pleasure,' Sandy beamed her smile at him, her eyes lighting up, 'I can cook dinner for you too.'

'No ... no thanks Sandy I don't think I could eat anything else today and I do have to get going, I've got a couple of leads.'

'Sure no problem, I'm ah going to be home for the rest of the evening anyway.'

Dean finished his coffee, grabbed his leather jacket and car keys, and still on shaky legs made it outside to the impala. Sliding in behind the steering wheel, he sat watching the house for a moment. Sandy passed the window talking animatedly on her mobile.

Driving into town Dean ran the conversation he had with Sandy through his thoughts again, all of his instincts told him not to trust her but there was something. Something about her that begged trust.

He pulled in front of the town's only shopping centre and went to buy himself some new clothes if he was going to pull his plan off he had to look the part.

The next morning Dean stood staring at himself in the mirror, he fidgeted once again with the collar and tie hating suits with a passion, 'suck it up Dean it's for Sam.' he growled to himself.

Picking up the folder with his newly constructed resume, new identification and a new past created on the laptop he was almost ready to go. Heading out to the kitchen he found Sandy getting ready for work.

'Wow you look great Dean,'she said her eyes wide with appreciation,' what's with the suit, and the new look?'

'Following a strong lead and have to look the part.' Dean gave her a flash of his infamous grin, 'running late I'll see you later Sandy.' He said over his shoulder as he hurried out the door.

Sandy stood watching him drive away a frown creasing her pretty face, picking up her mobile phone she hit a speed dial number and waited impatiently for someone to answer.

Dean pulled up at the gates of the institute and waited for the guard to appear, within two minutes a uniformed strongly built man appeared at the driver's side window.

'Can I help you?'

'Yeah ah hi there,' Dean smiled up at the man, 'the name is Dylan Hunt I have an appointment with a Mister Sloane at nine-thirty.'

'Alright, go through the gates keep driving until you come to a fork in the road follow the left one to the visitor's car park.' The guard slapped a temporary visitor's pass on Dean's windscreen and then handed him a smaller version to clip onto his jacket. 'No computers, mobiles or other recordable devices allowed, if you have any of these items I strongly suggest that you lock them in your trunk.'

'Thanks ah Dave,' Dean answered taking the pass and clipping it onto the jacket's lapel. 'Wish me luck I got myself a job interview.'

'Yeah whatever,' Dave the guard hit a button on his belt and the heavy gates started to slide open. 'Make sure you adhere to what I said, visitor's car park to the left and no recordable devices.'

'Got it thanks again Dave.' Dean waved and started to drive down the winding driveway. He watched his rear vision mirror as Dave the guard stood watching him and writing down the car registration. As he drove slowly along the roadway he noticed the security cameras lining the sides, one every few meters as he neared the fork in the road he slowed down a little more and checked the right hand turn first. A solid gate barred any entry into the area and a card machine made it clear that you needed to swipe a card of some sort to gain access.

Finding a parking space was easy considering that the impala was the only car in the visitor's parking area. Placing the laptop, his mobile in his boot Dean made out as though he was complying with all requests while he hid two knives and a small handgun under his clothes. Straightening up he slid the glasses on, picked up his knapsack, and used the sling strap freeing his hands.

Two guard stations later and an escorted walk through the compound gardens towards the main building Dean finally gained entry into the institute. 'Wow some set up here,' he grinned to his guide.

'Yes it is, some very sensitive research goes on here, and there are a lot of people who want to get their hands on it.' The guide explained holding a door open, 'please go through to the next door Mister Hunt.'

'Thanks,' Dean stepped into the building and immediately felt the change in temperature; he waited for his eyes to adjust to the duller lighting and then took in the foyer. A large receptionists desk stood directly in front of the doors, three sets of doors behind it, all closed and none signed. Just numbered one, two, and, three.

An aquarium, the size of the wall dominated the area, filled with large tropical fish it made it both soothing and unsettling at the sametime.

To the right rows of comfortable chairs and couches scattered around signified the waiting area, a coffee table laden with books and magazines stood in the middle and a door marked for unisex toilets in the far wall was the only signed door.

'Okay this is where I leave you Mister Hunt, good luck,' the guide said depositing Dean at the receptionists.

'Thanks for all your help, hopefully we'll see each other around.' Dean grinned before turning his attention to the beautiful young woman dressed all in white sitting behind the desk. Her black hair, cut in a stylish shoulder length bob glistened in the soft overhead lighting and her blue eyes that dark they appeared black.

'Hello Mister Hunt, I'm Trudy please take a seat and I will let Mister Sloane's assistant know that you have arrived.'

'Thanks Trudy.' Dean winked at her and sat down, sinking into the plush cushions comfortably.

A few minutes later a mature woman came striding out of one of the doors behind Trudy and headed towards Dean. Very officious looking, she wore a white business suit, practical shoes and had her hair pulled back into a bun, showing the first signs of grey around her temples and fringe. 'Mister Hunt I am Delia Stone, Mister Sloane's personal assistant would you care to come with me please.'

'Nice to meet you ... Delia.' Dean said immediately slipping into the role of a nervous job applicant. 'I have to admit that ... I'm kinda nervous about meeting Mister Sloane, you know the big guy has a huge reputation.'

'Really?' Delia replied dryly pretending to be interested in Dean's inane babbling.

'I – I just hope that I will live up to his expectations.'

'Yes well ... please have a seat and I will go and let Mister Sloane know that you are here.'

Instead of sitting though Dean prowled the office of Sloane's PA, he took mental note of the books stacked neatly on the shelves, seemingly untouched. The lush green plants scattered around the room and the white roses sitting on Delia's desk.

'Please come in Mister Hunt.' Delia said breaking into Dean's reverie.

Dean stared around at the ornate and rich looking furniture and fixtures in the office of Julian Sloane, President of the Institute. Wiping his hands on his thighs he took a deep breath and went over to the silver haired man sitting behind the desk.

'Nice to meet you Mister Sloane,' Dean enthused, but deep down wishing it was Sam doing the geek thing not Dean.

'Ah yes young Mister Hunt, I received your application this morning, excellent references and experience. Tell me why do you want to work at Cold Haven?'

'Research is my life Mister Sloane, throughout college I followed the work of your institute and the amazing breakthroughs you have had here. After graduation I wanted to get an internship here, I even turned another one down in the hope that I could get this one.'

'You are very eager aren't you, I like that, a passion for research is a wonderful gift Mister Hunt.'

'Thank you Sir,' Dean blushed appropriately.

'Very good, now we do extremely sensitive and at times controversial work here but we get results. If awarded the internship you will be required to sign a confidentiality agreement, you are not to speak to anyone about the institute outside of here. What we do here stays here is that understood?'

'Yes Sir.'

'Excellent, Mister Hunt tell me what do you think of the paranormal? Psychic phenomena? Metaphysics anything like that?'

'Personally Sir, I find those subjects more than just interesting, it does disturb me a little that there are people out there with these supposed abilities and have no training, or guidance in using them. It can be a frightening prospect but the research aspect is so enticing, finding out how it happens and why, and how to harness it for the greater good that is a personal goal of mine.'

'Have you had personal experience with any of these 'gifted' people?'

'Once Sir, and it was not a good experience,' Dean sighed and shook his head lowering his gaze to stare at the carpet, 'my, my sister went to one of those so-called psychics ... I'm sorry Sir it is too painful.'

'Yes I am sorry Mister Hunt, just for clarification though hypothetically speaking if you were employed as an intern and part of your duties was to study a psychic using any means necessary to find out how, what and why ... what would you do?'

'Do my job Sir.' Dean replied without flinching he looked up and met the older man's direct stare, 'if they are here to be studied then that is what is to be done, sometimes the lines blur when it is for the greater good.'

'Well spoken Mister Hunt, now if you will like to come with me I will give you a short tour of our facility.'

'Certainly Sir.'

Dean followed the man through a panelled door and down a narrow corridor to another building, 'this is where we do most of our human studies,' Sloane explained waving a hand dismissively at the doors leading to the more public areas. Although you will be expected to work in each area, you will be based in the more private studies down this way.' Sloane led Dean to another building across the courtyard, the one he saw Sam coming from with the guards when they beat him, glancing down he caught a glimpse of dried blood on the footpath and his stomach lurched uncontrollably.

They entered the smaller building and immediately Dean noticed the sterility of it all, everything in it was white, from the floor to the ceilings to carpeting to the furnishings; everything was cold, white and sterile.

Swallowing hard Dean focused on the older man, trying to ignore the feeling of dread shrouding him.

'If you would sign this book please Mister Hunt, I require a record of everyone who uses this facility. For security reasons of course.'

Certainly Sir,' Dean acquiesced glancing up at the security camera directly above the book.

'This is where we do most of our groundbreaking research on psychic phenomena here ... for the protection of all the participants they are known only as subject and then their number, this way they remain completely anonymous to those working here and other inmates.'

'I was told that you also take paid volunteers here?'

'Yes, yes we do however, they do not participate in these tests unless they exhibit true ability. Currently we have twenty-two participants on record although tragically we lost three of them, two in a horrific accident and the other natural causes.'

'That is a shame Sir.'

'Yes we do get attached to some of them,' Sloane shook his head and led Dean down towards the cells. 'This is where we house them throughout their stay here, we have found it easier to keep them separate as some can use their abilities to exert power over others, so for their own safety we created these cells.'

'How many do you have stay here at any one time?'

'Depending on what testing is being done we can have anywhere from two through to ten, no more than that though.'

'And the others where are they kept while they are not required?'

'We house them in a communal house with all single cells of course.'

'Of course, you have a very impressive set up here Mister Sloane.' Dean gushed looking around wide eyed. 'Who is this?'

'Ah yes subject twenty-one she is one of our favourites, twenty-one is a touch healer and she comes in quite ... handy at times.'

'I bet,' Dean grinned, 'oh I see that you have another one in this cell.'

'Yes one of our newest arrivals, subject twenty-two ... he is still adjusting to his life here but he improves with each day. He is a very strong psychic with precognition and telekinesis.'

Dean forced himself to keep a neutral look on his face when he stared down at his caged baby brother. Sam lay sleeping on the hard bench bed. His lanky frame too long for it and his feet dangled over the edge. His face bore faint bruises and Dean could make out the dark bags and rings under Sam's eyes, the pallor of his skin and the shallow breathing. 'Is he alright he looks fevered.'

'Yes, yes apparently he has been a little ill and the doctors have given him a sedative to help him sleep and relax. They often have adverse reactions to the first round of tests, but they soon become used to their regime.'

'Ah okay, this is state of the art stuff isn't it?'

'Yes it is, you have a good eye Mister Hunt.'

At the mention of hunt, Sam stirred and slitted his eyes open, pain-filled and dull they focused on Dean's face, shock, and then recognition crossed his face. Frantic that Sam would give him away Dean deliberately turned his back on his baby brother and followed Sloane towards the next section without looking back. His heavy heart thudded painfully against his chest. The look on Sam's face said it all. The fire in Sam's belly, the fire to ignite his desire to live and to fight had gone out.

TBC