Oh where, Oh where has your big brother gone?

Disclaimer: as per the first chapter, nothing changes much anyway!

CHAPTER 30

Sam limped out of the opticians wearing his new glasses; a deep frown creased his forehead as he adjusted to the new lenses. The doctor said he wouldn't have to wear them for ever just until his eyes healed completely.

Sam gave him an eloquent look of disbelief as he said that, and now having them on in public just added to his new-found pessimism.

He saw his father leaning against the truck waiting for him, heaving a sigh he rubbed his hands down his jeans and headed towards the older man. Tired already from the exertion of the morning, all Sam could think of was a nice hot cup of real coffee and a nap. Although he was tired of being tired all of the time, there wasn't much he could do except rest and follow the doctor's advice. After all, it was only yesterday when they released Sam from hospital after assuring the doctors and everyone else that he would behave and look after himself.

'Hey Dad.' He said ducking his head to hide the new glasses.

'They look fine Sam.' John said hiding his grin he turned and unlocked the truck, 'but you look exhausted.'

'Yeah guess I'm tired.'

'They are alright Sam and as the doctor said you don't have to wear them forever.'

Sam gave his father a withering look before turning his head to watch out the side window, preferring to sulk in silence.

'Sammy, I ah got a call about a hunt, not far from here.' John said as they neared their new temporary home. 'I don't have to...'

'Take it Dad, I'll be okay.' Sam mumbled.

'I can stay and look after you.'

'Dad! I said that I will be fine.' Sam snapped angrily, 'it's not as if I'm a kid anymore who needs to be constantly watched.'

'You just got out of hospital son, you need...'

'Yeah I know what I need according to everyone else ... but all I need is for Dean ... to be well enough to go and find Dean.'

'Sam I want you to promise me something.' John said his voice low and stead, with no hint of humour, 'I want you to promise me Samuel, that you will not go hunting Decebal on your own, we'll find Dean but we will do it when you are strong enough and together.'

'What if Decebal decides to kill him before then?' Sam asked using the same tone as his father.

'The world is full of what ifs Sammy, but I do know this – that you are far from well enough or strong enough to go and find your brother on your own and to fight the demon. Wait for me to get back please, I should only be gone a day, two at the most.'

'What about Gloria?' Sam demanded turning a baleful stare to his father, 'what are you going to tell her?'

'Sam! First you can quit that tone with me and second I'll deal with her.'

'You dating or what?'

'We're friends Sam, that's all.'

'Yeah right, so when are you gonna leave for the hunt?'

'Sam please can't we talk about this like two adults?'

'I'm tired Dad, I just want to go home and go to bed.' Sam turned away again and stared ahead, 'do what you want – you will anyway.'

John went to argue with him but stopped himself and concentrated on driving as they turned into their street. Pulling up in front of the apartment block, Sam got out and strode up to the security door, letting himself in he didn't wait to see if his father followed him.

Sighing heavily John pulled the grocery bags out of the truck and slowly made his way up to their small apartment.

Small, but clean and neat, it suited their needs; Sam needing somewhere quiet to rest and recuperate, John wanting something better than a motel room for the long haul rented it while Sam was still in hospital.

Coming fully furnished helped greatly in his decision, Gloria helped him stock up with food and medical supplies for when his youngest came home. She stayed with him there until he brought Sam home. When John explained that things were tenuous at the best of times between his youngest son and him, Gloria understood and went back to her own home - to sleep anyway.

By the time, John managed to drop the grocery bags on the kitchen's breakfast bar Sam had gone to his room and was laying down on the narrow single bed. The room contained twin single beds and a chest of drawers between them, a built-in wardrobe behind the door and a dresser squeezed in under the high window finished the furnishings. The room small but comfortable, John wanted Sam to take the Master bedroom, with the bigger queen sized bed and ensuite but Sam steadfastly refused. When Dean came home, they could share and Sam wanted that. He needed that.

'Son, I don't have to leave for this hunt I can pass it on to Caleb or someone else.' John said standing in the doorway and staring down at the youngest of his children. The youngest and the most stubborn and argumentative one; but the one most like their mother, sensitive, gifted, intelligent and good looking.

'Go Dad, you need to do it, I'll be fine honestly, and I promise I won't go looking for Decebal while you're gone.' Sam mumbled making John nod satisfied; it was as close to a lopsided apology as he was going to get from his son.

'Sammy, as soon as you're strong enough we will hunt the bastard down and get your brother back, I just can't lose you too – not now.' John said with his own version of a lopsided apology. 'Get some sleep while I fix dinner.'

'Thanks Dad.' Sam rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes he listened to his father shut the door and walk down the creaking hall to the kitchen. Finally, he had alone time to think. At least now, they longer prodded and poked and stuck him with sharp points, he could actually get a little sleep. 'Just wish I didn't dream.' he mumbled, 'no more dreams.'

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Dean sat curled tightly into a ball, shivering uncontrollably in his new 'prison cell'. As far as he could tell, they had him trapped in the so-called play room for three days. Though it felt more like three years, when they left him alone, it was always dark, no windows, and no lights - nothing,

Shirtless, he wrapped his arms around his chest in an effort to keep warm, since Decebal had taken him so long ago, Dean has lost so much weight even his ribs protruded from the tight covering of transparent skin, his eyes appeared sunken and surrounded by murky black pools, his lips cracked and split so many times that the ridges now were permanently crusted with dried blood. His usually short, neatly cut spiked hair had grown out, matted with dirt, and dried blood now; it looked almost as long as Sam's.

His body ached inside and out from the constant abuse and neglect but it was his feet that hurt the most. During one of his more imaginative games, Decebal decided to have Dean strung up on a frame suspended from the ceiling his ankles tied to the sides making it impossible for him to move, and then chose one of the reptilian guards to use his claws and puncture the soles of Dean's feet. Effectively crippling him, that was the last time Dean had seen Decebal. As far as he could guess, no one had been near him in two days.

Dejected, and his spirit all but gone Dean was ready to give up, he no longer ate and drank very little, he wanted to die, to be released from the hell he lived in.

Bright light burnt his sensitive eyes, gasping in shock Dean tried to cover his face with his hands and pushed himself back further against the wall, curling tighter in on himself. Decebal stared silently at the pitiful creature that was once the proud hunter, his need for dealing out punishment and to play such intimate games was fast dissipating into the ether. He no longer hungered for it.

Moments later, he materialised back in Dean's original bedroom, the young man lay on his bed, mercifully unconscious as Decebal had his own physician tend to the worst of the wounds and infections.

'How can I play with such a pathetic excuse for a man?' The demon complained, 'I need him at least half-alive doctor.'

'You shouldn't have pushed this far Decebal; I may not be able to bring him back next time.'

'Do it now.' The doctor's Master growled, 'or you will replace him in the play room.'

The doctor swallowed with a large gulp and glanced down at his patient, with fever-ridden eyes Dean stared up silently at the physician. He had gained consciousness a few minutes after Decebal brought him back here. He listened in silence as the demon commanded and ordered, with no compunction at all.

'How are you feeling young man?' The doctor asked his voice shaking with pent-up fear.

'Thirsty.' Dean croaked whimpering when the water made contact with his damaged lips. 'Thanks.' He managed to get out after a few sips.

Dean suffered in silence as the medic tended the worst of his wounds with an air of competency and faith in his ability to heal.

A pain-ridden scream echoed through the building when the doctor probed at the puncture marks on his feet.

Crusted with puss and weeping yellow fluid the holes still looked fresh and nasty. 'My God what has he done to you?' The doctor gasped, startling himself with his own voice.

'What he wanted.' Dean answered, 'and then some more.'

'I am so sorry son.'

'Not your fault Doc.' Dean said nearly jumping from the bed with the touch of a wet cloth on his feet.

'I have to clean them Dean, the puncture wounds are already infected, what did he use to do this?'

'The lizard guy and his claws.'

'Oh my God no!'

'Why Doc what's wrong?' Dean asked, 'you're freaking me out here.'

'Those, those creatures are filthy they burrow into the ground until Decebal wants them and they never ever bathe.'

'Fuck.' Dean dropped his head back onto the pillow and covered his eyes with his forearm. 'Do what you have to do Doc.'

'What if it comes to the point that we may have to amputate one or both of your feet?'

'We're gonna make sure that doesn't happen, aren't we doc.' Dean growled reaching up he grabbed hold of the white coat and pulled the doctor down closer to him. 'No one is take one foot let alone both of them.'

'Relax Dean; I will do the best I can.'

'And then some Doc, I don't want to lose any body parts none at all - got that!.'

TBC