Author's Note: Fair warning, there is a bit of torture in here. If you dislike that, you might want to skip Sam's sections of this chapter. Sorry for the long delay! Real life has been so busy. I'm really excited to be posting this chapter as I put a lot of hard work into it. Anyways, please enjoy!
When Sam came to, he was tied to a wooden chair and cursed with a pounding headache. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog out from his brain. He couldn't remember exactly what he was doing here or where he had been before. Panic coursed through his veins as his heart began to pound furiously. Biting his lower lip, the youngest Winchester tried to get a grip on himself.
Never panic, Sam, you hear me? It'll make you sloppy. It'll get you killed.
His father's strong voice filled his mind and brought a sense of calm. He could handle this. He had been taught how to deal with situations like these. He just had to focus. Immediately, he scanned the area. It was dimly lit but from the bits and pieces he could see, it appeared that he was in a warehouse of sorts. There was no external light so Sam assumed that it was still early morning, which meant he hadn't been gone too long. Racking his brain, he searched for the memory how he had ended up here, but nothing came to him.
"Well, look who's awake." A voice drawled and instantly it came back to him. Amber meeting him outside the motel room, convincing him to go with her, and then jabbing a needle in his neck.
"Amber." He hissed, summoning as much rage as he could in his tone. She stepped into the light, a smirk on her ruby red lips. Her blonde hair had been put up in a bun and she was wearing a white apron, which covered her t-shirt and blue jeans.
"Hi there, Sammy." She greeted.
"Don't call me that." He snapped and she chuckled.
"My, my, someone's fussy," She chuckled and then bent down to be at eye-level with him. "Sorry about that back at the motel. Ah just couldn't have you gettin' Dean." She brushed some of his hair aside and he turned his head instantly. Infuriated, she punched him hard. "Don't be rude, Sam. Ah'm doin' you a favor."
"Yeah?" He challenged, his lip split. "And what favor would that be?"
"Ah'm gonna kill you so your brother doesn't have to." Shock filled Sam's expression and Amber knew she had hit her mark. She pulled a knife out of the pocket of her apron and wistfully sighed as it reflected the light.
"Why?" Sam finally asked. She met his gaze, confident in what she was doing, knowing that this had to be done—that Sam Winchester had to die.
"Because you're not normal," She started and Sam's eyes fell to the floor. "Are you, Sam?" She twirled the knife in one hand as she circled around the chair. The youngest Winchester struggled with the ropes, to no avail. "Don't bother. Ah was taught by the best. You're not gettin' out unless ah untie you."
"Yeah?" He challenged and she smiled. It was such a shame that this man had to die. She had grown to like Sam Winchester's defiant spirit. It was a side of him that she had never seen before and she would be lying if she didn't admit that she was attracted to it. In another life, maybe they could've been together.
"Gordon told me all about you," At this revelation, Sam's eyes widened and the color drained from his face. "Good, you still remember him?"
"He's crazy." Sam retorted, a spark of his earlier defiance still evident in his eyes.
"Maybe," Amber conceded. "But he is a damn good hunter. He saved me, Sam. Ah owe him everything for that." She stopped her circling and stood before him. "Which is why ah'm gonna do this for him."
"You don't have to." Sam told her, voice pleading and she almost broke a little. He was still human on some level—that much Gordon had told her—but inside him was something evil. Maybe he wouldn't give into the dark force today, but someday he would and the world would pay the price for it. That's why she had to do this—to keep everyone safe, to repay her debt. She would be out after this. She could finally part ways from Gordon and go hunt on her own terms.
"You're evil, Sam," Amber spat, hardening her heart against him. "You have to die." She stepped closer, knife in hand. Then, softly, "Don't worry. Ah'll make sure your brother gets your body."
"Amber," There was something in his tone that stirred up something within her. She hesitated. Could Gordon be wrong? Could Sam Winchester be normal? "Don't do this."
Gordon's face filled her mind and instantly, she was decided. She couldn't afford to become the next person on his hit list. Besides, Sam wasn't normal and if he were, he wouldn't be for very long.
"Ah'm sorry, Sam," She said with a sigh. "It's out of my hands." She cut one of his wrists and he hissed in pain. "Ah'll try to make it quick." Crimson blood flowed out of the wound, staining the ropes holding him and the floor. Nodding to herself, Amber put her silver knife away. She still had a few more tests to do—Gordon would want to know all the details, just in case he came across another person like Sam—but soon it wouldn't matter.
Blood loss would kill Sam Winchester.
It was the noise of a truck speeding away that finally got Dean up and out of bed ten minutes after his brother said he needed some air. Cursing against the cold, Dean threw on his jacket and jeans and headed outside, ready to drag his little brother back to bed if he had to.
There was no one outside.
Frowning, Dean did a double take and surveyed the parking lot. Had Sam gone for a run? No, he would've said something and besides, it was freezing out there. So, that left one question—where the hell was his little brother?
"Sam?" Dean called. "Sammy?"
His only response was the wind.
"Yes, sir," A woman was shouting into a phone. "I saw her take that young man!" A pause and then exasperated, she threw her hands up. "Yes, I'll hold!" She was pacing the parking lot in a t-shirt and shorts, visibly shaking. Dread filled the pit of Dean's stomach. She couldn't have been talking about Sam, could she?
"Ma'am!" Dean exclaimed, crossing the gap to where she stood. "What did you see?"
"You're the other man in the room." She whispered.
"What did you see?" He asked again, panic and urgency in his voice.
"I saw your friend get taken by this woman."
"What woman?" Dean questioned, suppressing the fury that was boiling up in him, because dammit, Sam was supposed to be safe with him!
"I didn't get a good look," The woman shrugged apologetically. "I just saw her take your friend away. She got into a truck, but I couldn't make out the details." She grimaced. "I'm sorry for not being able to do more."
"No," Dean insisted. "You've helped a lot." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to process what he had just been told—how Sam had been kidnapped right outside their motel room.
"If the damn police would just listen—" She sighed. He didn't stay any longer, pulling out his own cellphone and instinctively dialing Bobby. The gruff hunter was probably asleep, but Dean didn't care. Sam had been taken from him and getting him back alive was all that mattered.
"Singer." Bobby mumbled tiredly.
"Bobby—!" Dean exclaimed, heading back to the room. If he was lucky, maybe he could trace the GPS in Sam's cellphone—
Which was on the counter in the room. So much for that idea.
"Dean? Do you have any idea what time it is, ya idjit?" Dean could hear a light switch being flicked on and a bit of relief swelled within him. He wasn't alone in this. He could do this—he could save Sam.
"Sam's been taken," He explained hurriedly. "I don't know who did, but Bobby—"
"Okay, calm down," Bobby soothed, ever the voice of reason. "We'll get him back. Now, where are you?" Distractedly, Dean told him while he pulled up Sam's laptop, wondering if there were any clues in there. "Dean? Were you listening?"
"What?"
"I'll be there in two hours," The older hunter repeated. "Just stay put and don't do anything stupid."
With that he hung up and Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. This was too close—too soon—to be unrelated to Gordon. Maybe his "roadhouse connections" had come after Sam for revenge? If that were the case, then he was up against another hunter.
A hunter that could kill Sam in an instant.
"Dammit, Sammy." Dean cursed, trying to suppress his panic and worry. He would get his brother back.
Sam was coming back home to him—alive—if it was the last thing Dean did.
Author's Note: Next chapter, more on Amber's association with Gordon, Bobby shows up, and Dean gets closer to finding out to who took Sam! Will he make it in time? If you have a second, please review! I'd love to hear what you thought!
