Oh where, Oh where has your big brother gone?
Disclaimer: as per chapter 1
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CHAPTER 9
Dean slumped against the bars of his cage breathing heavily, the cuts and bruises from his latest battle were not as bad as some of his previous ones, but this last creature whatever it was, was damned near impossible to kill.
Tentatively he felt his jaw, he could feel the swelling start already, and this was his third fight in the caged ring. The time between fights continually grew shorter; the medical help rudimentary at best was now almost non-existent as though they were tired of him and hoped that each fight would be his last.
'Winchester you have two hours rest.' The Master Decebal snarled as he hovered close to the cramped cage, 'I want a better show this time.'
'Then do it yourself.' Dean shot back, 'I am not your plaything.'
'Oh yes you are, once you get used to that the better off you will be.'
'I am going to get out of here and kill you.'
'Ah now that's the fighting spirit I have come to expect from you. You do realise don't you that if you hadn't upset me so much, you would not be fighting those ... things.'
'So what am I missing out on then?'
'You would have been my ... pleasure boy.' The Master laughed at the look on Dean's face, 'hmm come to think of it, win this next fight and then I might let you be cleaned up and prepared to serve me.'
'And if I lose?'
'Simple you rot in this cage until you die in the ring.'
'Gee what a choice.'
'Up to you Winchester but just remember one thing.'
'And what is that?'
'Your brother's life still hangs in the balance, tip the scales the wrong way and ... ' Decebal let his words hang in the air as he glided away towards his waiting guests his laughter hung in the air, almost making Dean choke.
'He had to think quickly, there was no way he was going to become a pleasure boy for anyone let alone that thing. He rested his head against his knees as he huddled into himself, think Dean, think. Dean's thoughts started to stray until he was focused on his brother's face. Torn and bleeding, his skin grey and eyes dull, and then he looked over at his father, the same as Sam, with grey skin and dull eyes, covered in bruises and cuts. 'You did this Dean ... you are so selfish.' His father accused him, the vision changed swirling mists covered Dean's family separating him from them. When they cleared he saw his father holding Sam's limp body in his arms, cradling his youngest son's head against his chest, fat tears ran down John's cheeks as he looked up and locked gazes with Dean, 'you did this Dean ... you are responsible for your brother's death.'
'Winchester up and at em' Max thumped the bars until Dean lifted his head and slowly pulled himself up.
'What do you want?'
'Time for your next fight, oh the Master wanted to make it more interesting.'
'Why don't you come back a little later, I don't have the energy right now.'
'Always the smart-mouth aren't ya.' Max leered as he unlocked the door and beckoned Dean to come out. 'Stand right there Winchester, move, and you will suffer.'
'Gee and I thought you didn't care.' Dean sighed roughly Max grabbed one of Dean's hands and started wrapping thick, greasy bandages around them, making a forced fist and then he did the other in the same way. Confused Dean watched what he was doing, the solution the bandages were soaked in made his skin sting. Holding Dean's arm tightly Max dragged him to two buckets sitting on a bench closest to the door leading into the arena.
'What the fuck are you doing?' Dean gasped trying to pull away from Max, but all his struggles did was to earn him a cuff across the back of his head. Then Max forced Dean's hand into one of the buckets, the melted glue still warm, burning the exposed skin with contact and then without hesitation he plunged Dean's hand into the next one pushing it into the shards of broken glass holding it until as much of the glass stuck to the glue. When he was finally satisfied, he dropped the hand and then repeated the process with Dean's other one.
Before Dean could react to the glassing of his fists Max dragged him into the arena, where he fastened a leather collar around his neck and clicked the end of a heavy chain to the collar effectively tethering Dean to the side of the caged fighting area. Swaying he tried to swallow the nausea and concentrated on his next opponent. Almost as tall as Dean this demon looked like a normal human, shocked Dean realised that the one he had to fight was a possessed human. Hurt or kill him and he would kill another man.
The demon-possessed man swayed uncertainly as they connected the chain to his collar, then his eyes darkened and he growled at Dean.
'Fuck it, I don't want to fight you dude.' Dean said in a low voice, 'do you hear me, I don't want to fight.'
'What are you a coward?' the possessed-fighter taunted Dean, 'fight me human.'
'No!' Dean yelled and turned his face up to where the spectators sat, 'you hear me I won't fight him, he's possessed he doesn't know what he's doing.'
'Remember what will happen to you if you don't fight Winchester.' The Master's voice came out of the blackness.
'Come and get me then coz I aint fighting him.'
A stunned silence hung over the area, no fighter had ever refused the Master, and then boos, and jeers slowly filled the silence. Rough hands grabbed Dean and forced him to his knees; a large knife pressed into neck, 'shall we kill him now Master?'
'No, no bring out the frame instead; our guests want to see blood and blood they shall see.'
Amidst calls of enjoyment and cheers the Master had Dean tortured for over an hour, spurred in by their obvious enjoyment he kept it going much longer than he originally anticipated but it was worth it.
Dean hung limply from the wooden frame, his left leg twisted awkwardly under him, his shoulders snapping under his weight. Long bloody welts covered his bare torso, both back and stomach, two long and ornately handled daggers protruded from his right shoulder and right thigh. Slowly he lifted his head and blinked up at his torturer, 'finish it ... finish it now.' He begged, his will finally broken. 'Kill me and get it done with.'
'Kill you? No my dear Dean I am not going to kill you, I am only just beginning to have fun with you.' Decebal appeared next to Dean, cooing he cupped Dean's chin in his hand and lifted it slightly so that he could see his victim's eyes, 'this is just the beginning Dean, never defy me again.'
'No Master.' Dean whispered his body shuddering with the effort of keeping his head up, pain assaulted every part of his body, he could smell his own blood that flowed down his body and pooled at his feet. His shattered ankle no longer able to bear weight looked grotesque, twisted, and inflamed already with infection. 'I will never defy you again.' His voice hollow and devoid of any emotion.
Decebal frowned, slightly taken aback with Dean's sudden acquiesce. 'How can I believe you?' He whispered, running a finger down Dean's face he took in the pain-filled look on his features, the dull blankness of his eyes and the damage inflicted upon the proud young man. For a moment, he felt a twinge of guilt, breaking such fiery defiance and self-worth should have brought more enjoyment than what it did.
'Cut him down.' He hissed as he dropped his hand away and turned to the guests, still waiting for the next fight to start. 'Honoured guests please enjoy a ten minute break while we prepare for our next bout, two demonic wild cats will be set upon each other, and I do believe we have a mountain lion and a panther facing off in ten minutes.' Decebal turned and stared the now unconscious Dean for a few seconds before he beckoned Max to him, 'take Dean upstairs, clean him up and tend his wounds, and then make him comfortable in the bedroom next to mine.'
'Master?' Max looked shocked at the Master's sudden softness for the Winchester brat.
'Don't question me remember what happens when I am defied.' Decebal nodded at Dean and then gave Max a threatening glare.
'At once Master.' Max snivelled as he backed away, not game to raise any more questions.
A hooded figure watched the exchange from the shadows, interested in what was said and where they carried the unconscious young man with the knives still protruding from his body.
Glancing around the shadowy figure moved stealthily through the growing crowds and followed Max and the others carrying Dean. Unnoticed by those he tailed he managed to slip past the guards taking on the persona of one of the guests was the easy part.
Once out of sight of the main guards and of Decebal, John Winchester slipped off the robe and discarded it as he followed the trail of blood, the blood from his son Dean.
Sheriff Jolley watched the torture of the young man with an unbridled lust, wanting to finish what the Master had started; instead, they cut the boy down and carried him away. Just when it was getting interesting; frowning he turned to leave, fighting animals even demonic ones didn't interest him.
'Sheriff where are you going?'
'Back to work can't be bothered with fighting cats; I saw what I wanted to see.'
'Oh you did hmmm? I have a job for you Sheriff. I want Samuel Winchester to be brought to me, I don't care how you do it, but I want him here within the hour.'
'We lost the bail hearing Master; he is free and staying with his lawyer at the moment.'
'At this moment Jolley and I know for a fact that he is alone and completely vulnerable to an attack. We no longer need to play around with court cases, as far as anyone is aware of he absconded whilst on bail, another indicator of his guilt. And oh by the way, Tom Granite was no lawyer; in fact his name is actually John Winchester the father.'
'So he impersonated a lawyer?'
'Get your mind on the job Jolley, I don't care about that anymore it's boring. All you have to do is to bring Samuel Winchester to me, alive that is it.'
'Yessir.'
'Oh and Sheriff, defy me or fail to bring me what I want and you will take the place of Dean on the rack.'
Dean gasped as Max pulled the last dagger out of his shoulder, delirious with pain and fever he took no notice of Max or what he was doing, moaning he reached out for an invisible hand. 'Sit still ya brat.' Max hissed slapping Dean's hands down, frustrated he stole a quick glance around and then he landed a punch squarely on the younger man's cheek, bruising and merciful as Dean lost consciousness, embracing the blissful darkness.
'Move and you're dead.'
'Okay, okay buddy just keep it calm.' Max lifted his hands and turned to face the intruder.
John paled even more when he saw his son's condition, 'step away from him.' John said as he placed himself between Dean and Max, 'no funny business or I will kill you.' John produced the handgun he had concealed in a pocket. With an air of practiced efficiency, he pulled out a tube of salt and made a circle around himself and Dean then he quickly sprinkled some holy water closer to Dean just in case. Finally, satisfied with his precautions John brought the butt of the gun down onto the side of Max's head knocking him out and then he was able to give his eldest son his full attention.
'Sweet mother ... ' John gasped, 'Dean, Dean come on son don't die on me now.'
TBC.
