Oh where, Oh where has your big brother gone?

Disclaimer: as per the first chapter.

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CHAPTER 14

John and Dean watched the screen in horrified silence, they watched as Sam and Decebal argued, then the demon suddenly started to molest Sam making both of their stomachs roil in revulsion.

'Dean ... Sammy's eyes, the look.' John tried to get the words out over the rising bile in his throat. 'He's breaking Sam before...'

'Before Sam even steps a foot into the fucking game.' Dean spat out angry with himself for being unable to turn away from the screen. But the look in Sam's eyes kept him watching. The haunted look of a prey trapped and ready to die. 'We have to get out of here Dad; we have to find Sam before the bastard...' Dean let his voice trail off as he started working on his restraint once again.

'That look, Dean.' John's voice broke as he kept staring at the now blank screen, 'that look in his eyes Dean, the only other time I saw Sam look even remotely like that...'

'Dad.' Dean cut in, the tone of his voice making John turn his head to stare at Dean, 'Dad we have to get out of here.' Dean spoke slowly emphasising each word, 'we have to get out and save Sammy.'

'What if it's too late Dean? Sam's already lost.'

'Don't you ever even think that Dad, don't you give up on Sam, give up on us.'

'Dean I...' John stopped when he saw that look of sheer determination in his eldest son's face, 'you look so much like your mother.'

'Thanks for the compliment, now concentrate Dad we have to get out of here and find Sam.'

The door swung open just then, two of Decebal's blank-eyed guards stepped into the room moving to stand at the end of the room standing in between the two mattresses, and then following them was another two guards carrying a large chair that they placed in the centre of the room before leaving. Finally, Decebal swept into the room with a wide smile to his captives, 'John, Dean I thought that it might be fun to watch the show together, perhaps some bonding time.'

'You that worried that we might escape or that Sammy will find a way here and you'll have to let us go?' Dean snapped at his captor but it only earned him a cuff over his head by one of the guards.

'Tsk, tsk Dean you should really learn to respect your betters.' Decebal sighed without looking at Dean he lifted his hand and twisted his fingers as though he had a grip on Dean's collar and then dragged his hand close.

Dean gasped in shock as he found himself unable to move voluntarily and then unable to fight back while dragged towards the side of Decebal's chair. Decebal dug his taloned fingernails into Dean's shoulder easily piercing the skin. Dean screamed and writhed with the pain but was unable to escape from the demon's grip.

'There, there my pet.' Decebal crooned as he pulled his claws out of Dean's shoulder and patted him on the head like one would a pet dog, drops of his own blood ran down Dean's face and matted in his hair. 'Now pay attention I do believe that the show is about to start.'

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Sam swayed dizzily as the floor seemed to move under him, dipping up and down as he moved into the maze Decebal had created out of nowhere. It seemed as though the maze was actually creating itself as Sam moved through it.

As he rounded the first bend Sam came to a stop the path forked in front of him, both looking identical, the first phase I guess, he thought as he carefully regarded each way. The left, the left hand is always the hand of evil, the right hand is the hand of reason, and of good ... So Sam took a deep ragged breath and stepped onto the left path.

The right one collapsed onto itself immediately after Sam started on the left side. 'Well so much for backtracking.' Sam muttered and started to move quickly down his chosen path.

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'Ah your son is very astute John.' Decebal said his voice devoid of any emotion, 'it barely took him anytime to work that one out.'

'He is more intelligent than you can ever hope to be.' Dean spat out as he tried to dodge the ever-present hand of the demon.

'You do have the spiteful tongue don't you Dean.' Decebal gripped Dean's hair and cruelly pulled his head back as far as possible exposing his throat but also effectively cutting off any retorts.

'Gag him.' The Master Demon ordered immediately one of the guards appeared in front of Dean and within a few seconds had gagged Dean with a leather ball and strap contraption. The hard ball, forced into Dean's mouth and the leather straps tied at the back of his head, effectively silencing him. Shooting Decebal a look of pure loathing Dean struggled even harder as the guard then without warning, grabbed Dean's wrists and forced his arms behind him; cruelly twisting the already tight muscles and tendons as he cuffed both wrists behind the hapless prisoner.

'Please pay attention Dean, I don't wish to punish you any further ... well just yet anyway.' Decebal kept stroking Dean's hair as he settled back down to watch Sam's journey through the maze.

Dean screamed silently in frustration as he tried to push the gag out of his mouth, leaning forward he caught a glimpse of his father staring blankly at the screen; John had no awareness of what had just happened between Dean and Decebal.

Great, just great dad zones out and I'm trussed up like a turkey. The thought ran through Dean's mind, making his temper even worse. Frustrated he pushed against the gag ball and started to choke on his own saliva.

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Sam followed the path for what seemed to be hours, but he was sure that it was only a matter of minutes since choosing the left fork. The light progressively grew darker making his going slower and harder to maintain his sense of direction as the path started to become very winding ending in a seemingly dead-end. Sam turned back but the path he had followed was no gone, the only way he can go was straight ahead.

'Sam, Sam please help me.' Jess' voice swirled around him, almost caressing him.

'Jess?' Sam called out his voice hoarse with pent up emotions.

'Sam please help me it hurts so much.'

'No, no this isn't happening,' Sam kept shaking his head and put his hands over ears to block out her begging. Stumbling he tried to keep moving when invisible hands grabbed his arms and stopped him. 'Sam please make love to me.'

'You're dead, you're not real.' Sam cried as he pushed past the unseen obstacle and tried to keep moving forward.

'No, no Sam not that way ... please Sam come back to me it hurts - it hurts so much.'

'You're not real!' Sam whimpered clamping his hands harder against his ears, 'you're dead, it's just a trick!'

'No, Sam please help me I'm trapped and the fire's coming.' Jess screamed her voice filled with urgency.

'I can't help you ... I can't do this.' Sam sobbed and faltered dropping to his knees; fat tears fell down his cheeks after breaking through his tightly squeezed closed eyes. 'I can't do this.'

'Sammy please help me.' Jess' voice caressed his face and he finally opened his eyes and stared upward, horrified he saw Jess on the ceiling, blood pouring from the long cut across her stomach, flames surrounding her.

'No!' He screamed, it was happening all over again, 'No Jess!'

'Sam you left me to die, it's all your fault!' Jess screamed her face contorting into an unrecognisable mask of evil.

'No, no this is not real.' Sam kept repeating it like a mantra as he pulled himself up and stumbled blindly ahead.

'Sam ... Sam where are you?'

'Mum?'

'Sam please you have to find me, he has me trapped here.'

'No ... no you're dead Mum, you died when I was a baby this is not real, it is not real.'

'No? But I am Sammy boy.' John stood in front of Sam baring his way, anger emanating from him.

'Dad? No, no this is just another trick.'

'Trick am I? Come on cry-baby take me on and see how much of a trick I am.' John taunted him, but Sam said nothing instead he tried to push his way past, only to find himself flying backwards against the wall.

'What Sam? No comeback? No sarcasm no threats to run away again?' John towered over him, 'come on Sammy boy where's the fighting spirit. Oh that's right your brother Dean is the one who fights you just sook and wimp out.' John kicked Sam hard in the side forcing him to tumble even harder against the wall, 'you should have died when your mother did, then it would have been a mercy killing.' He snarled kicking Sam again this time connecting with his son's jaw, splitting his lip. Scrambling away Sam curled up into a ball to try and protect his face and head, 'this is not real,' he kept repeating in a low voice as the blows and kicks rained down on him. His body betraying his crumbling resolve jerked and flinched with each connection of fist and foot.

'What no fight boy? Where's the sassy brat who fought me and then ran away like a girl.'

'You're not real.' Sam roared pushing himself up off the floor he spat out blood and slowly rose to his full height towering over the creature pretending to be his father. Lashing out he struck the demon's jaw and then followed through with a sweeping leg kick taking out the legs and making it tumble to the floor. John's face started to break down flashing between that and the face of a demon. 'You are not my father.' Sam broke down as he dealt just as many kicks and punches to the demon as he received.

Breathing heavily Sam lurched forward leaving the demon lying lifelessly on the floor behind him. Wiping the blood away from his mouth he put a bloodied handprint on the wall as he steadied himself and started to move down the path once more, the dead-end disappearing in front of him.

His broken and bruised body protested internally with each tortured step but Sam kept going, not wanting to let his real father and brother down. Ahead of him a table appeared, laden down with food and drink. His throat parched and stomach empty and sore Sam made it to the table sinking down on the soft chair near it.

On the table, three jugs and three plates covered with silver domes sat. In front of each one a white card.

The first one read, Sweet and sour, pure or foul can you trust it? The second in front of the covered platter had a similar riddle. Slowly he read each one, another test. One each of the jugs and platters poisoned, one deliberately fouled and the last ones suitable for him to drink and eat.

TBC