A/N: Man you guys are seriously making it worth posting this story. I was really close to not posting this at all, as in the whole story, but now I'm so glad I have :) You can thank Kate Cyrus for that. I wouldn't have had the nerve to post without her help. Again, THANK YOU so much! I love and welcome all feedback with open arms. So in return I'm posting this one now instead of later tonight when I had originally planed to put it up.

A/N2: This will be the last chapter containing torture so YaY! Sunshine, lollie pops and candy cains will insue! Ha! As if! I'm to sick and twisted to let that happen. But as for the torture, yes this will be the last chapter. Except for maybe flashbacks.

WARINGS: Torture, not really as bad as the others.

Chapter Five

Five hours later and Dean was still in his catatonic state. Even though their captor had been bragging about being able to break Dean he didn't seem all that pleased when the hunter wouldn't scream for him anymore or take any notice of the pain that he was inflicting on him.

Nail gun in hand the man loomed ominously over Sam and glared at Dean, having propped the older brother so he was sitting against the wall and was looking straight at his bother, "Come on Deannie. I know that you don't want me to take this here nail gun and hurt your brother with it do you?" he asked. When Dean didn't react, only kept staring with his blank eyes and taking his still short quick gasping breaths, their captor screamed out in frustration and shot three nails into Sam's left thigh.

Sam winced but didn't cry out. 'I'll make you proud Dean.' Somehow he had convince himself that if he kept quiet through the torture that was now being inflicted on him to get a reaction out of Dean, then he would make his brother proud and then wake up. And at the very least he could try and repay his brother and keep that freak away from him.

"Oh what you wanna play too Sammy?" his captor shrieked, clearly furious at the lack of response he was getting from his favourite captive, "Fine we'll play!" he raised his hand and slapped Sam across the face so hard Sam swore felt one of his teeth come loose.

Sam felt his heart sink. Not from the hit but from the fact that Dean didn't even bat an eye at it. The Dean Winchester he knew would have been across that room so fast if you hurt his little brother it would have made your head spin. But this Dean, this Dean seemed empty and nonexistent. Almost like he was a shell.

Rising up the man had a look of resolve and happiness on his face as if he had just struck oil,
"Deannie." He said drawing the word out in a sing song voice, "Deannie, how about we have more fun. Ju-"

"No! Don't you fucking touch him!" Sam screamed cutting off his captor and earning another hit across the face that had him seeing stars.

"Just you and me Deannie." He said walking over to Dean and crouching in front of him. Dean just stared back, his eyes as blank as ever. Their captor raised his hand to backhand Dean across the face when the only door in the room was kicked open sending shards of glass everywhere and pausing the man in his attack.

In through the ruble created by the door and broken mirror walked John Winchester, guns raised and looking absolutely furious, "Get. The. Hell. Away. From. My. Boys." He spat shooting daggers with his eyes at his boy's captor.

Sam could have died from relief right then and there had it not been that he thought he had finally lost it. Dehydration probably setting in he figured. But when he saw his captor freeze and look so scared that he looked as if he was going to shit himself he knew that his father was there. Someone must have been listening to his prayers.

The man froze. How the hell had this guy found him? Maybe he had picked the wrong tourists to play his 'games' with. Looking into the eyes of his captive's father he knew he was going to die. He wouldn't be getting any older than today and in that knowledge came to him the thought that if he was going down he was going to take at least one of these boys with him. Grabbing one of his many knifes from his bag he made to slash the older boy's throat.

The youngest Winchester tried to scream a warning out to his father of his captor's knife but before the word could even leave his mouth and before their captor had even raised the knife, the man had a bullet right between the eyes.

The room was deadly quiet for a few seconds and Sam's only thoughts were 'It's over. Thank god it's over!' Before John broke the silence saying a quick, "Boys!" and rushing to Sam's side to pick the locks that had kept him chained to the wall for the last however many days.

Dean seemed to know his Dad was there and that he was safe because as soon as the older hunter's voice was heard his eyes slipped closed and he slumped to his side and onto the ground.

"Sammy what the hell? Are you okay?" John asked picking the second last lock and then turned around at Sam's desperate cry of 'Dean!' to see his oldest son now on his side.

"Dad get Dean, he's hurt worse." Sam said his tone desperate. He didn't think he could see the rise and fall of Dean's chest anymore and that thought alone made his heart skip a beat.

John nodded handing Sam the lock pick to finish his last two remaining shackles as he rushed to Dean's side. Seeing how beaten Dean was made John wish he hadn't shot that bastard in the head so he could have inflicted some real pain to that monster. A bullet between the eyes was too good for him. Checking Dean's vitals John's heart jumped into his throat. Dean was in shock and he had to get him to a hospital now or he was going to die, "Sam hurry up with that we have to get him out of here. He needs a hospital." He growled at his youngest who was working on his last shackle. John took off his jacket and covered as much of his naked son as he could with it.

Hearing the underlying worry in his father's voice made Sam work even faster on the lock. Dean had to be really bad for his Dad to sound that worried and say he needed a hospital. John normally did everything he could to keep the hell away from hospitals. The lock clicked open in record time and Sam jumped up onto his feet only to be hit with a wave of vertigo, and his legs buckling at the knees.

On his hands and knees Sam realized he was probably weak from starvation among other things but knowing he needed to get up and help his father with Dean, so he pushed himself up. Sam took one last hate filled look at his now dead captor and hoped the bastard burned in hell.

"Sorry son this is going to hurt." John whispered in Dean's ear as he put his arms under his son and lifted him into the bridal carry, knowing that it would be the less damaging for Dean. Nodding at Sam, John made his way out of the destroyed door and into the main room of the suburban house that his son's had been kept in, "Sam keys are in my pocket." John said turning to his right so Sam could extract the keys to his truck.

Sam quickly took the keys and opened the front door to the house only to be blinded by the bright sunlight of the outside world. Throwing his hand up to shield his eyes from the aggressive light the young hunter stumbled outside ignoring the pain of his body, running on pure adrenaline and spotted his father's truck half parked on the front lawn of the house. He quickly ran to the black pickup and unlocked the door opening it up wide and hopping into the middle seat so he could help his father hoist Dean into front seat. He didn't even care if anyone saw them. And what a sight that would have made.

When they were all in the truck, John tore out of the street and down the road while Sam kept his arm around his brother holding him upright and steady, hoping that he wasn't hurting the unconscious hunter. Breaking all possible speed limits John raced towards the hospital.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked Sam, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the road.

"I'm not sure. Since last night I think. I woke up and," Sam paused to take in a shuddering breath and try to recompose himself, "Oh god Dad. H-he raped Dean. I couldn't stop it." Sam choked out, tears filling his eyes.

John Winchester actually saw red. He gripped his steering wheel tightly in his hand and clenched his jaw so tight that it hurt. 'Hospital John. Get them to the hospital. Your boys need you. Hospital.' John thought to himself like a mantra to stop himself from turning the truck around going back to the house and beating that bastard to a pulp.

His mantra was suddenly interrupted by his son's broken yell of, "Fuck! Dad he's not breathing."

MWHAHAHAHAHA!! A cliffy there for you::grins evilly:: The more reviews I get the sooner I'll post again ;) Thanks for reading.

Mishka xXx