Desperately Seeking Sam
Warning: Language as always and there's minor descriptive scenes but nothing too serious.
Chapter Five
"Wanna bet, bitch?"
The sudden gruff voice that spoke from the rear of the room took both Amelia Richardson and her new sadist friend off guard since neither expected anyone to come in the basement room's only door.
"Who?" whirling from where she sat still straddling Sam's hips, her wide with lust brown eyes went larger with shock then hate. "Get out!" she screamed, not putting two and two together as her hand went flat on Sam's heaving chest. "Bruce!"
The big red head had been taken off guard by Dean's appearance but he wasn't about to let anybody sneak in and swipe what he planned to have before too much longer. "Should've minded your own business, asshole," he sneered, lunging toward Dean as it in a tackle when he didn't bother to take notice of the .45 that was already moving.
"He is my business," Dean returned tightly, firing once and not bothering to see where the round hit the bastard that had been in one hurting his brother as his attention was instantly back on the naked and shaking woman that still hadn't moved. "Get the hell off of him."
The rage and fury that Dean had been feeling since he first realized what had happened was fighting to explode and only the fact that the psycho bitch had a knife in her hand kept him from moving faster toward the massive bed.
"He's mine," she smiled, a little too brightly for the sane while running a finger down Sam's chest and missing the way the muscle in Dean's cheek twitched when Sam trembled. "I'm not sharing him with anyone but Bruce now. You need to leave so I can have my Sammy all to my…" those possessive words cut off with a shrill scream as the .45 fired to leave her falling off of Sam to clutch her now bleeding shoulder.
"He's not your anything, bitch," Dean snarled that, keeping his eyes and his weapon locked on the bleeding woman who didn't seem to care that she was naked as she kept screaming not to go near the bed and for her ally to get up. "I think this asshole's a bit too busy right now to care."
A look had told Dean that his first bullet had hit the redheaded brawler in a very sensitive spot, which Dean wasn't sure he could do again if he'd been aiming. "Sammy?" he called quietly as the sound of running footsteps reminded him that he hadn't come in here alone. "You still suck at being backup, Cabot."
"It's Markus now and if you'd wait for me rather than running off on your own then maybe I could back you…oh shit," Federal Agent Bryan Markus had stepped into the room with his 9mm pulled and already debating on who to aim it at when he caught sight of the naked man restrained on the bed and blew out a breath. "Dean…"
"Watch them!" Dean snapped, shoving the .45 away as he took a final look around to make sure those two were the only ones left before making it to the bed in two steps. "Sam? Sammy?" he called, fighting to keep his voice level as he heard the Fed using the normal routine about rights but kept focused on his brother and not sure where the hell to even start. "Kill them both."
A single look at Sam's chained, bloody, bruised body made that suggestion very plausible in his mind as he used one of his other sets of cuffs to handcuff the bleeding man who was shouting. "Damn, you shot this guy in his balls, Winchester," he couldn't quite keep the marvel out of his tone after punching the sadist in the face to at least shut him up.
"Imagine where I could've shot him if I'd been aiming," Dean returned, ignoring the obscenities being screamed his way from Amelia as he reached for his knife while trying to ignore the many wounds he could see on his little brother and thinking of the ones he couldn't while laying a hand on the side of Sam's face after give the strap over his throat a vicious pull to at least get rid of that one. "Sammy? C'mon, baby brother…open your eyes."
"No! Don't you touch him!" Amelia screamed, ignoring her bleeding shoulder to try to lunge at the hunter only to have her path blocked by the very sturdy and tall frame of a pissed off Federal agent. "He's mine! Sam belongs to me and my Dad'll make you pay!" she sneered, gasping as a robe was thrown at her. "He's calling his friends in from the…"
"I'm from the government, lady and I wouldn't be looking for any help from that direction since it's really doubtful if you'll make it out of this room alive and your Dad will probably be lucky to walk away with a prison sentence if I push what I know into a court," Markus snapped, seeing the way Dean's hands shook as they cut the heavy ropes and leather straps on Sam's wrists and hearing the soft groan from the younger man.
Amelia looked up at the Fed, the hate in her eyes still burning as she kept glancing at the bed and shifting as if she was going to jump at Dean, not caring about the gun aimed at her. "My Dad called you. You're supposed to protect me. I won't let anyone take Sam away from me again. I have special plans for him so let us go and kill his bastard brother and you can have a turn…agh!"
He'd faced down plenty of disgusting people in his life but this woman made his skin crawl. Using the butt of his Beretta to slash it down, he hit the woman on the side of the face with it before dragging her across the room so he could hook her hands to a bar made into the wall.
"Shut up," he warned tightly, wanting away from her and this place as soon as possible but a single look told him that wasn't going to be too easy to accomplish. "Dean?"
Sam's eyes had clamped shut and refused to open. The drugs were burning through his body and making it hard to focus again but he also figured they were making him hallucinate now.
He'd heard a voice that he hadn't allowed himself to believe he'd ever hear again then two gunshots that would've made him jump if he could've moved but Sam still refused to open his eyes.
Gasping as he tried to control his heaving chest and rapidly beating heart, Sam could still hear Amelia's voice screaming at someone but she seemed farther away and slowly he became aware of another body next to him on the bed and he began straining again.
"No…no!" fighting the drugs that wanted to choke his words off, Sam jerked his head once he realized it was free to try to bury it in his shoulder when he felt the first strap on his right wrist loosen. "Please…stop…let me…" the words were mumbled through a hoarse voice when a familiar touch cupped the side of his face.
"Sammy."
She'd been calling him that and he hated it. He'd always hated that nickname except and had only begun to let his brother use it. Hearing it from Amelia or the people she'd let use him made Sam sick but this time as the name was spoke next to him something began to click deep inside him.
"Sammy, open your eyes. You're safe," Dean was starting to get more panicked the longer Sam didn't open his eyes but guessed after all his brother had been through it was going to take him a while to convince him that this wasn't another sick game. "Hang on while I cut you loose though."
Having gotten one wrist free, he carefully lowered it since he figured his brother's joints were hyper extended or worse if he went by the various bruises on Sam's arms and legs from straps or ropes and bit his tongue to keep from snarling.
Wanting to allow Dean to be the one to free his brother, Markus prowled the room to look for clothes or something to cover the younger Winchester up with once he was freed when he jerked open a drawer and felt his stomach flip.
An array of bloody sex toys filled a drawer with some vivid photos of various people, including Amelia and the man, playing their sick games with Sam but it was when his fingers touched an open pouch for something that he couldn't find that Markus felt his breath catch and shot a look toward the bed.
"It's okay, Sammy. I've got'cha now and I'm getting you outta here before I kill this bitch regardless of what the Super Fed thinks," Dean knew he was rambling but it was either that or break down and sob as he got the other arm free and hissed when his brother made no move to fight back against the hands on him. "Sammy?"
"Dean, he's been drugged so…he might not be able to move or talk that much yet," Markus reminded the hunter grimly, glaring at the now sullen woman. "How much of this crap did you shoot him up with?"
"Bite me," she replied bitterly, sliding her eyes to the bed where Dean was pressing a hand to a cut on Sam's thigh. "He's gone. Your little brother? He's not here anymore. He's just good for what I want from him or maybe…that's good enough for you?"
The Fed groaned and tried to get between them only to find himself knocked out of the way when that comment finally ignited the full wrath of fury in the hunter and he was across the room with his knife ready to cut. "Dean!"
"You freakin' crazy bitch!" Dean grabbed a handful of hair like he'd walked in to her doing to his brother while ignoring the scream from her since he figured there was no way he could ever cause her enough pain to come close to what his brother had suffered. "You're one breath away from dying as it is so don't piss me off more," he warned, voice dropping to the lethal one very few people heard and lived to tell about it as he glared into her eyes wide with madness.
"Sam's not a toy. He's not one of your sick games. He's my little brother and you played with fire by even thinking I wouldn't look for him or that I wouldn't care enough to find him," he gritted, realizing how easy it would be to use the knife and ignoring the hand that was trying to urge restraint. "She raped him!" he snapped, fury plain. "She let people hurt him all so she could…Damn it!"
Bryan Markus managed to grab the wrist with the knife and deflect it into the wall before it plunged into Amelia's heart, feeling the cords in Dean's arm straining against his hold. "Dean! I know what she did. Even though I haven't seen everything you have it doesn't take Einstein to see what's happened here but think for once. She's not a…okay, can't go that way since she fits in the monster level but…"
He wasn't sure what to say to talk Dean out of murder since he wasn't certain the woman deserved to be spared that fate since he had a hunch that Sam had suffered much more than either of them were aware of just yet. "I know she's not the first human you've killed to protect him but on this one, there is a better punishment."
"Hell isn't good enough for this bitch so I doubt if you can convince me that there's something better than death for her or both of them," Dean shot back, knuckles white on the hilt of the knife when suddenly something else drew his attention and he forgot all the black emotions building as he turned as a single word.
"…De…"
Shooting the other man a dark look, Dean returned his full attention to his brother whose glassy hazel eyes were trying to open but appeared to be sticky with some substance that the hunter didn't want to focus on right then. "Shhh, I'm right here, baby brother," he seen the movement and swallowed hard as he sat back down to reach for the weakly grasping hand. "Hang on a second."
Reaching for the wet cloth that was held at, Dean grunted an acknowledgment before carefully wiping it across Sam's bruised face but gentled his touch as he wiped it over his still closed eyes until he figured he'd gotten most of the crap off.
"Sammy, can you look at me?" he asked quietly, using his other hand to gently card fingers he forced to be steady back through Sam's hair and pushed the burst of nausea that came as he felt how grimy and filthy it felt. "She can't hurt you anymore. I'm here and…ignore the pain in the ass Fed I picked up along the way to find you."
Feeling the strength of the hand gripping his, Sam knew that hand as well as the one touching his face. Despite the confusion, pain and fear he still felt, he tried to open his eyes and prayed his mind wasn't playing tricks on him or that Amelia hadn't found a way to make him hear… "De…?" his tongue felt so dry and swollen that only the nickname for his brother would come out and even that was a struggle right then.
Whimpering at the touch of the cool cloth over his bruised face and eyes, Sam felt that same touch stay on the side of his neck with a light squeeze that wasn't meant to hurt as all the other hands had. He was nearly ready to attempt to open his eyes when suddenly his whole body was seized with an electric jolt that had him screaming in pain while trying to jerk to his side or anyway to stop the pain coming from his ass that seemed to go all the way through to him.
"AARGH!"
"Sammy?! What the hell?" Dean hadn't been expecting his brother to scream as if he were in pure agony and had to move quick to avoid a fist to the head while trying to hold Sam down, afraid that if he jerked too hard until he was fully free that he'd hurt himself worse. "Sam! Damn it, tell me what's wrong!"
As Dean tried to help this writhing brother, Bryan Markus's steel blue eyes had shot across the room and with three running steps he was across it and slamming a hard boot into the already bleeding crotch of the man with the remote to the vibrator clutched in his hand. "Where is it?" he demanded hotly, hearing Sam scream raggedly and read it all in the sick smirk before stomping the remote under his heel and firing a single 9mm round into the man's face.
"Sam, calm down," Dean was trying to keep Sam still when he jumped at the sudden shot just as his brother seemed to go limp with only little shivers going through his bleeding and filthy body. "Damn it, Bryan! You said I couldn't gank the bitch so what the hell was that?"
"I didn't say that bastard was living," the Fed returned, kicking the remains of the shattered remote with his foot. "Dean…you aren't going to like this but…you've gotta get it out of him," he didn't miss the brief look of confusion that flashed on his friend's face or the equally fast look of sick rage as it hit him.
"Sonuvabitch," he hissed, keeping his hand on Sam's shoulder while nodding to Markus to finish cutting the ropes holding Sam's ankles to the damn bed that he seriously wanted to burn before he left. "Sammy, listen to me."
Body trembling as shock set in more than it already was, Sam's eyes had snapped open to lock onto his brother's and tried to twist his hips away from the mattress once he felt one leg free. "…Out…" he gasped, straining to move his stiff limbs in order to reach back but could only whimper as his abused body wanted to give out. "De…get…it out…please," he knew he was begging but just wanted the pain to stop.
"Sammy…" Dean hated this. He hated to see his brother in pain to the point he was in tears but the very thought of dislodging that damn plug made him sick. "Hold on," he whispered, going to move Sam to his stomach when the younger man let out a muffled scream and the hunter cursed himself.
He'd seen a little of what his brother had gone through and figured Sam had suffered more since then and a look at the cuts, burns and bruises on his entire front told Dean that the kid would never be able to let on his stomach, especially when a quick look on the bed showed the damn cockring that the now cackling bitch had kept on him for who knew how long.
"Get him on his side," Markus remarked, having found a blanket and a shirt for later but guessed what was happening here. "If you trust me and you can hold him then I'll get it out."
Flinching at the sudden new voice, Sam tried to jerk as if to get away. "Who…no…no more…De'n!" he tried to find his brother as he was rolled gently onto his left side as a pillow was slipping between his knees to keep the red raw patches on his thighs from touching together and to also keep his still swollen looking shaft from touching anything when a blanket was laid over him to allow only his bare back side to remain uncovered. "Who…?"
"It's okay, Sam," Dean assured him, sitting next to Sam on the bed. Keeping one hand on Sam's shoulder, he used the other to lift his brother's pale and fevered face up a little so he could look into eyes so heavily blown in shock and drugs that only a little ring of hazel showed right then.
"Sammy, listen to me. You can see me and feel me. I want you to squeeze me hand in a second so you'll know you're not alone because Bryan…you remember Bryan Cabot? Well, he turned Fed on us and knocked your big brother's head in," he kept his eyes locked on the glassy tear filled eyes of his little brother while maintaining a steady dialogue which he prayed would distract Sam from what was about to happen.
"Anyway, Bry's behind you and…Sammy try to relax now," Dean thought that sounded stupid even to him but knew he needed Sam relaxed or this would hurt him more. "He's going to get that damn plug out of your ass and then I'm getting you out of here because this nightmare is so over. Okay? Can you hold onto me?"
Sam wanted to do just that in the worst way but felt too weak to make his limbs move more than just to try to curl up tighter to where Dean was sitting beside him and grip his hand weakly when he shook suddenly until something fell into his line of sight and tired eyes locked onto what was swinging from his brother's neck.
More interested in trying to reach for the swinging gold amulet than Dean's hand anymore, Sam made a frustrated sound that reminded Dean of when his brother was small and wanting something he couldn't quite reach and seen where his eyes had gone.
"You want this?" he'd slipped the amulet back on in the Impala earlier and now slipped it back off to place it into Sam's trembling hand before closing his fingers around it and keeping his hand over it while easing Sam over more toward him to both allow a better hold and to give Markus a better chance at doing this. "When you're awake more, we are so gonna talk about you having this all this time, baby brother."
Dean squeezed the shoulder he was holding before looking up to meet the eyes of his friend and recognizing the look of sorrow for the pain Sam was about to be put through but both knew this needed down before they could move him. "Do it," he whispered then went back to talking to Sam while trying not to move his eyes to see what he could well imagine was happening. "I'm right here with you, Sammy."
Markus had sat on the bed as close as he felt he could get to the younger man without making Sam panic. He knew panic would come as soon as he touched him and felt bile rise in his throat as he looked at the mass of welts, cuts, hand shaped bruises that covered Sam's back, legs but it was the dried blood he saw on the younger man's rear end that forced him to step back in his own head.
Sam Winchester had been thirteen the last time Bryan had seen him in person. He'd been a soft spoken, almost shy boy who had a passion for books and learning, a typical teenage attitude to disagree with nearly everything his Dad said and a true case of hero worship for the arrogant son of a bitch that happened to be his older brother.
Like most annoying little brothers, he'd tried to follow Dean and his friends around no matter what else he was told. He could be annoying and prone to finding trouble easier than Caleb was and despite his bitching, Bryan had adored the kid.
Sixteen years later and he found himself watching Sam try to cling to his brother's waist as his body trembled from shock, injuries and too many drugs in his blood.
It was clear to him that only keeping his focus trained on Sam and trying to remain strong kept Dean from losing what self-control he still had but the way his hand shook as it smoothed over Sam's shoulder told how hard it was getting.
"On three," he murmured, pitching his voice low so Sam wouldn't hear it and be afraid but felt the way the boy tensed the second his hand touched the small of his back before trying to get a good hold of the plug that was covered in dried blood and other fluids that he so did not want to think about right then.
Dean could already tell by the dark look in the former hunter's eyes that he would not like the wounds Sam had back there but right then forced himself to concentrate on the shaking form next to him, tightening his grip on his brother's bare shoulder just enough to keep him still when he moved and if Dean knew anything it was that Sam would move.
He'd been dealing with Sam and injuries of one type or another for nearly all their lives. But while gunshots, knife wounds, burns, broken bones and the like never phased him the other type of injuries that he'd been forced to cope with, to help his brother over, at least three times that he knew of were the ones he hated.
"De'n…what?" Sam felt the warmth of a hand that wasn't his brother's on him and his whole body went rigid until Dean's grip on his shoulder loosened to begin lightly rubbing at a livid purplish mark on it. "Make it stop?"
"It's going to stop soon, Sam," Dean promised, shifting closer and felt Sam try to hold on to him tighter as the pain he was in must have begun to dull the drugs and some memories were beginning to come back. "On three, baby brother. Close your eyes, hang on to me and on three it'll be out," he lifted his head up to mouth two silent words over Sam's tense, trembling body before going back to soothing the younger man and ignoring the scowl he was sent.
Bryan Markus took a deep breath and tried to will his hand to be steady for this. He'd worked sex crimes for the first three years in the Bureau and had handled some shattered victims and some sick freaks but this was a boy he'd known and it broke his heart to see Sam like this, knowing how much worse it would get once he began to come off the drugs.
"I'm sorry, kid," he muttered, hearing Dean whispering in a voice softer than he ever thought the older Winchester was capable of using when Sam whimpered at the touch.
Taking a shaky breath, he nodded before beginning to count in his head as Dean counted out loud but when he reach two and like both men had counted on Sam's body relaxed slightly before tensing for the third, Markus gritted his teeth and gave the damn plug a solid yank on the two count.
"Arrrgh!" Sam's cry was muffled as he buried his face against Dean leg, his body jackknifed against the burning pain as the plug, that had been shoved in dry but was now covered in blood and fluid, came free with a sickening sound and a vicious oath from the man behind him. "…God, oh…De'n…"
As soon Sam began to move, Dean was moving. Wrapping the blanket fully around his brother to prevent further shock from setting in, he knew that Sam would be trying to escape the bed, to get away from what had been done to him on it and while he couldn't blame the kid he also knew that the second his brother tried that he'd be flat on his face.
Sam did move more, pain still preventing him from doing more than trying to at least sit up only to bit down hard on his lip when even the slightly touch to his ass jolted him with searing agony and he suddenly just wanted to curl up and fall back into his mind where it was safe and he could pretend this had all been one huge nightmare.
The feel of the amulet in his palm gave him some comfort as he forced his eyes to open and immediately locked on the worried green ones that were watching him and stopped moving to stare at his brother.
A large piece of Sam could still hear Amelia's bragging that Dean was gone for good, that he'd never look for him, that he would hate him for…a brief burst of clarity and Sam's breath began coming in ragged gasps again as it slowly sank in that Dean was here.
His brother had found him which was a huge relief until Sam's mind flashed on the firmest image that his drugged thoughts could lock on and he realized he was naked under the blanket.
The memory that Dean had come in while Amelia still raping him caused a brutal rush of shame to fill him because while facing this was one thing for him, he didn't want to bring this back to his brother.
Facing the shame and horror of the last few days would be hard enough without knowing Dean was aware of way too much this time.
Sam had tried to cover or downplay the incident with the Benders or the worst time when he was a teenager but he'd known that his big brother had only been too aware of what had happened to him but this time…he'd walked into it and Sam was sick of seeing the shame that Dean would feel because Sam was a hunter, he'd been taught to protect himself and…
"Sammy, don't," Dean had been watching his brother's face as it went through an array of emotions before his eyes had started to fill and he tried to ease away from him and knew what was going through Sam's head right then. "C'mere."
Sam looked at the outstretched hand warily, not fully trusting this yet despite his more basic urge to give in and just let Dean take care of him like he had so many times before. He wanted to grab onto that lifeline and cling but still the thought of someone else touching him made his empty stomach flip.
"He doesn't want you, you know," Amelia spoke from where she was cuffed, shooting daggers of hate toward Dean then slid a look at Sam whose head had spun at her voice. "Sam only wants me to touch him. He liked what we did, didn't you?" she lowered her voice as she stared into his widening eyes. "You begged me so sweetly when I made love to you all these times and…
While she was far enough away so that she couldn't hurt Sam physically, mentally and emotionally she was still a huge threat to his still drugged, in shock and emotionally damaged little brother and Dean was at the end of his patience.
At the first sound of a muted sob, the rope of that patience literally broke. "Shut her up or shut her down, Bry!" he snapped, not giving another thought to anything but Sam as he reached over to pull his brother against him in a firm hug that he'd been wanting to do from the first second he'd seen the kid.
"C'mere, Sammy," Dean felt Sam go rigid in his arms as soon as his arms closed around him but didn't let go because he'd made that mistake once years earlier and it had taken him over a week to just get Sam to speak again much less allow contact. He wasn't doing that again.
The perverted litany of words cut off as Bryan Markus used one of her own gags to shut the woman up even as Sam struggled to free himself from the embrace but seemed unaware of when his arms slowly reached around to hold on lightly as if afraid to really let himself return his brother's hug.
"…Hurts," he whispered, still hearing Amelia and her friends taunting him in his mind until slowly another voice began filtering in again.
A deeper voice, husky and gruff with emotions that he normally wouldn't allow to even brush the surface much less come out in his voice, and as Dean spoke Sam slowly settled down enough that he could feel the grip of strong fingers on the back of his neck in a way that only his brother used.
"She can't do this anymore, Sammy. You're safe with me and I would never stop looking for you," Dean assured him, keeping his tone steady despite the rage and fear still bubbling deep inside for what his brother had been forced to endure.
Dean had heard the hitch in Sam's breathing before he felt his weak arms trying to hold onto him tighter as it gradually became clear that he was free and safe from further abuse.
That was when a large crack appeared in the dam that Sam always built around his emotions after suffering a serious injury and slowly Dean shifted to allow his brother the room to do what instinct should have him do next. "I've got you, baby boy and it's over," he whispered, feeling the jerk as Sam finally let out a sob that was part relief and part pain then turned to bury his face against his brother's neck like he would as a kid and began to let the burning tears out.
As he soothed his brother, Dean knew this was just the tip of the emotional landslide for them because Sam was still in shock and numb from the drugs so he probably only remembered a little of what had happened. It would be once he'd gotten him fully away from the bitch and checked out, since not even Dean could deny that his brother needed a hospital this time, which would be when he'd have to get Sam to fully accept things.
It was those times that Dean truly hated because Sam tended to close down, a habit he picked up from Dean, when facing crap like this and the last time it had taken a fifth of Jack and a fight to break down those walls after the damn Benders had hurt his brother.
Fighting this time was not an option and it would need to be handled with tact and gentleness, two things that Dean wasn't sure if he could still pull off after the last few years but as Sam's body suddenly seemed to be wracked with sobs and his arms went fully tight as if afraid to let go, the hunter figured he needed to or lose his brother for good.
Agent Markus had stayed back in order to give the brothers some privacy but a look at his watch reminded him that they weren't running on limited time, especially when he noticed all the blood on and around the bed. "He needs an ambulance," he finally spoke, not surprised by the hot look that suggestion brought. "You can't treat him yourself this time, Dean."
"I know that," Dean gritted, letting his chin rest on the top of Sam's head as his brother seemed to be slipping into an exhausted coma now that most of the physical danger was over with. "He doesn't do well with ambulances so I'll take him myself but…Bry, behind you!"
He'd heard the footsteps from the floor above already and was already turning to aim the Beretta at the door to this basement horror chamber when a shadow came only a second before the new arrival busted into the room with a gun drawn.
"Drop it or I put a bullet in you now!" the Fed snapped after grabbing the wrist of whoever was stupid enough to show up to the party late, twisting it hard and using his full body weight to slam the man into the wall next to the door. "Not in a good mood to deal with anymore perverts today, jackass!"
"Huh? What? No, wait! I'm not a…damn it, Dean!" a muffled voice tried to yell despite having his face pressed into the wall.
Dean groaned as the voice reached him and he figured this night couldn't get much worse. "Didn't I leave you with obsessed Super Fan, Garth?" he asked, feeling more tired than he had a right to and just wanting to get his brother out of this room. "Though I still think we might have to downgrade her status to creepy Super Fan after this one."
"You did but I figured you might need backup so I left her and drove straight here…after getting yelled at by that lady Sheriff you know," Garth explained, wincing as his arm was still twisted in a painful position. "Um, you happen to know the guy breaking my arm?"
"Garth, Special Agent Bryan Markus," Dean waved a hand as he shot out the introductions when Sam moaned and he felt the warmth of blood from the cut in Sam's side as it began to bleed again. "Bryan, meet Garth. He's a hunter…and I'm not sure how else to explain him so don't kill him."
Markus and Garth exchanged wary looks before both decided the other wasn't a threat to the Winchesters. "Holy Mary," the hunter breathed after taking a look around and deciding he was never telling Becky about this. "Is he…"
"He needs an ER," Dean muttered, shifting a little and frowning when Sam only groaned but strained to keep his grip on his brother even in his sleep.
"He needs an ambulance!" Markus shot back, seriously not understanding how Dean had lived so long considering how stubborn he was. "How can you drive and keep him calm? He'll be in agony in the Impala cause he can't sit or lay on his stomach so…"
Nodding toward Garth who was rapidly figuring out that he'd stepped into one bad nightmare, Dean refused the ambulance idea unless it was for the Fed if he kept getting in his face. "Garth can drive and I'll handle Sam but…" his gaze moved to where Amelia had begun to struggle in the cuffs as it became clear they were taking Sam.
Flashes of what he'd seen on the computer, to the photos, to what he'd walked in on to just the marks he'd seen on his brother brought back the simmering rage Dean had felt since figuring out that his brother hadn't just chosen to walk away.
He'd allowed himself dark fantasies of making the woman pay in very vivid detail for touching his brother. For bringing back crap that he'd never wanted Sam to ever deal with again.
He'd tortured souls in Hell and despite not liking to think on those days Dean knew he could bring back that part of himself without too much issue since it had been on the surface ever since his return from Purgatory.
Every time Sam whimpered in the restless sleep he'd fallen into since even the touch of the blanket against his raw and abused body must be like agony and it reminded Dean of how much he seriously wanted the bitch to bleed.
In the drive to Beaumont he'd allowed himself to think of chaining her like she'd chained Sam down, of using some of her own sick little toys against her and of hearing her scream as he cut pieces of her away like she'd ripped pieces of Sam away; pieces of his brother that nothing Dean did could get back.
"Uh-oh," Garth breathed, seeing the way Dean's jaw was clenching but it was the way those green eyes had gone to slits as they glared toward the woman that warned the hunter this was bad. "He's going to that place that Bobby always said it'd be bad if he did."
Turning from Garth to look, Markus blew out a vicious curse before stepping between Dean and his potential target then had to push back a brief burst of worry as those hot eyes went to him.
Even though he'd been away from hunting for years, he'd kept his ear out and had heard various rumors about the Winchesters. Some he dismissed as plain nonsense while other things he filed away under the possibility of being the truth.
He'd heard that Dean had changed dramatically over the years but hadn't bought into that too much until the moment his friend's green eyes pinned him and the pure hate and desire to do Amelia the worst kinds of harm could be seen clearly.
"Sam's bleeding, Dean. He's got infected wounds all over and who knows if he's bleeding internally. He needs that damn ER and he needs it as of yesterday," he quickly dismissed using logic here because right then all Dean was seeing was the woman who'd tortured and assaulted his brother. "She's not a hunter and while I won't argue that she's as sick as some of the things we hunted and that yeah, she deserves all the pain in the world for what she's done to him…you can't do it."
The smile wasn't amusement but one of pure lethal hate as Dean moved his gaze up to meet the steel blue ones of his friend then moved his hand lightly over Sam's neck where a deep bruise still showed where someone had choked him.
"You and Caleb were there the night I killed that son of a bitch who tried to grab him. You saw what I did to that asshole. Caleb was there when I went after Dad's so-called buddy for hurting Sam. So you know what I can do for him…now it's just a bit more advanced because after spending forty years in Hell, ten of which I ripped souls apart like nothing, taking that bitch down won't be anything to me after seeing what she's done to him," Dean replied, tone muted in a way that had Garth worrying.
The hunter had seen Dean in full bury over Becky but this tone, this almost emotionless tone that he was hearing now, was scaring the shit out of him. He was also aware that Dean could probably go through the Federal man without much more effort.
"Yeah, Cal and I helped you track that sick perverted pedophile down and we stood by while you made damn certain he could never hurt another kid," Markus had always wondered if anyone else had ever learned of that private hunt but right now made himself keep his gaze locked on the hunter's.
"Cal also told me about John's friend and I know about those Rednecks eight years ago because I make it my business to keep tabs on you two and only because I was stuck on another case did you get Henrickson on your ass instead of me," he went on, stepping closer to the bed but made certain not to touch Sam.
"Dean, I don't know everything. I don't know what's happened to you or Sam and I know you want to hurt her for hurting him but can you live with yourself for killing a human, even if she is a perverted form of one?" he asked, letting his hand rest just slightly on Sam's shoulder and actually hearing the sound of teeth gritting. "He's hurt, he's scared and he'll go through hell before this is over but do you think Sam would want you to do something that will eventually hurt you?"
Wanting to snarl back that he could handle it, Dean looked down at Sam and knew that while the guilt could be buried under the justification of protecting Sam the elder Winchester also knew deep down that killing the woman in self-defense or to stop an attack was different than killing her now.
He wanted to. He wanted to take his knife or his .45 to her smug face just like he wished he'd been able to hurt the Benders more once he learned the truth but again…demons he got while people were just plain crazy.
"You think a jail will hold her?" he sneered, not stupid enough to think that Amelia or her old man wouldn't find some loophole. "Nothing's been able to so far."
"Because her Dad always called in favors but those are done," Markus assured him, firm on this because he'd see to that himself. "Dean, think about it. Lock her up in a padded room somewhere, no contact with anyone and sure as hell no way to get her fix…she won't last long. Isn't that more fitting a punishment than a quick death?"
Hating that it did make more sense, Dean still didn't trust the people in charge to make it happen. "You swear to me that she won't see the light of day again, that she'll never be able to hurt anyone else like she has him and that she will never be able to get close to Sammy again and…we'll try it your way," he finally stated firmly while moving the hand the man had placed on Sam with a warning glare.
"Her Dad isn't the only one with friends in high places," Markus replied seriously, wondering how many gutters and windows he'd have to clean to get his Mom and Step-father to pull this favor off. "Mom'll make it happen especially if I mention Sam. She always was fond of him and you, though she thought you were a bad influence on me."
"Caleb was a bad influence, dude," Dean snorted, not fully liking this plan but when Sam shifted and his face scrunched in pain he gave a final dark look toward the woman. "Fine, but if she ever comes near him again I gank her ass and no one finds the damn body," he warned, voice back to the more usual 'touch my brother and I will rip your lungs out' tone which while scary was actually a relief to the agent.
"Deal," he agreed, gazing at Sam with concern. "Still say an ambulance…fine, how you planning on getting him up those steps and into the Impala since we're about three miles away from where you parked her?"
Managing to get his keys without disturbing Sam, Dean held them out before tossing them to a startled Garth. "One scratch and I won't be killing you over being BFF with Becky," he advised, smirking as the gulp before the hunter ran to get the Impala. "What about the rest?"
"Before I came down here I sent a text to my partner. Rory'll bring in some Federal marshals to handle the actual arrest but I'll make sure it gets handled right," Markus didn't bother to tell Dean that his partner was actually already back at the main house and would actually be taking care of Amelia and her father personally until he had a chance to make some calls home.
"Stay by him," Dean suddenly moved, being careful as he let Sam ease down onto a pillow, while reaching for the knife he'd dropped by bed.
Blinking, Markus groaned. "Damn it, I thought we agreed not to kill her," he complained, debating on getting between them again when weak fingers grasped his as if Sam had felt the change even in his sleep. "Dean…"
"I'm not killing the psycho bitch, Bryan," the hunter reassured him as he stepped to the side of the woman who'd put his brother through living hell for close to four days to avoid any kicks. "I'm just leaving her with a warning," he added with a swift punch to the face that would have spit at him if not for the gag in her mouth before grabbing a handful of hair while holding up the knife.
"Not so much fun when you're on the other end of the abuse, huh?" though Dean wasn't sure she wasn't enjoying the pain which made him even sicker but did want to get his point across. "You are still breathing because even if I could ditch the Fed I wouldn't have time to do to you what you deserve so understand this, bitch," he placed the tip of the blade right at the hollow of her throat after he'd pulled her head back. "If you so much as try to get close to Sam again or if you manage to have any of your sick pals try to come close to him again, a locked ward of cops or Feds won't stop me from killing you."
Fighting not to shudder at the thought of her touching Sam, he clenched his teeth as she screamed through the gag at him and even without words it was clear to him what was being said and he gave another yank to jerk her head back while getting directly into her face. "No, but I'll tell you who he does belong to and why it's not a good idea to ever touch my baby brother," his fist landed again and had to force himself to step back or go too far.
"That kid's been mine since the night I carried him out of our house and while I've allowed a lot of crap to get between us…there is no way in hell I'd ever let him be hurt by someone like you. You managed to keep him from looking for me and I didn't see the signs soon enough that everything was not right with that but I have him now and you, you're going to rot someplace dark where I can only hope you suffer in some way like you've made Sam and all those people before Sammy suffer."
No longer caring if she screamed or ranted or even bled out from the shoulder shot, Dean turned to walk away back to the bed to try to get Sam up enough so he could figure out how to move him. "You screw this up and she walks…I will end you right before I do her," he promised, seeing the nod and knowing he and Markus were on the same page. "Hey, Sammy? Think you can walk a little for me?"
Sam's eyes flickered under his lashes but stayed closed, offering only a little sound of pain as he tried to curl up more into himself rather than wake up to face what he would soon. "…No…" he mumbled, dry lips cracking as she tried to reach blindly for his brother and only relaxing when he felt familiar fingers grip his. "…Home?"
"Yeah, we're going home soon, kiddo," Dean blatantly ignored the raised eyebrows of the other man since he was still refusing to call for an ambulance because he didn't want more hands than necessary touching Sam right then. "Though this might hurt so just bear with me a little."
Leaning down to ease one arm around his neck, Dean winced at the cry of pain that came from Sam as he attempted to get him standing but wasn't expecting his brother to double up and nearly went back down with him.
"Easy," Markus had caught Sam's other arm to try to take some of the weight off of Dean while being very careful when he moved an arm around the young man's waist, feeling Sam tense but a buried nibble of concern began to snake its head up that Sam's pain and his inability to straighten up may not be all from being afraid of the hands on him but something more serious. "Dean?"
"Yeah, I saw it," the elder Winchester had felt Sam's side earlier and didn't like how rigid it was but as blown wide hazel eyes finally opened enough to look at him he buried that to offer a calm smile. "Sammy, try to pay attention. Bryan's going to help me get you up these steps and into the Impala, okay? Just try to stay with us because hauling your ass outta here will be a lot harder if you faint on me."
Blinking a few times as if to try to clear his watery vision, Sam hissed when his whole body burned with pain, but his head seemed clear enough to know he still wasn't dressed. "Clothes…?" he began coughing and felt pain explode in his side.
"That shirt is way too small for you and…" Dean paused to push the anger back again. "You're too hurt to even attempt jeans right now, Sam. Don't worry about that. Bryan saw you at thirteen when I tricked you into going skinny dipping in Pastor Jim's lake," he hoped he sounded more confident than he was feeling since it seemed to take them forever to just get Sam to the bottom of the steps.
"You didn't trick him. He went swimming and you stole his clothes," the Fed corrected, grinning at the memory of Jim Murphy scalding them both with a three hour lecture. "One step at a time, Sam. Just lean on Dean," he urged the younger man, not liking how hard Sam was breathing or the way his legs were shaking.
Sam tensed at the other voice but didn't fight it since he seemed to recall it but it was on Dean that he made himself focus.
Even with his eyes closed again to try to block out the pain and the vision of this place, he could still almost see what his brother was doing just by the way Dean was speaking to him or the other man. "…De?" he gasped out when the men paused on a landing halfway to the top, letting his head fall to rest on Dean's shoulder. "…Sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry over, kiddo," Dean tried not to sound out of breath but there was no denying that Sam was four inches taller and several pounds heavier so it wasn't as easy to move him like it had been when he'd been a teenager. "This wasn't your fault. I'm just sorry I didn't get back in time to stop it or find you sooner."
A faint memory of Amelia threatening his brother caused Sam to tighten up only to feel a hand touch his face and tried to relax, he wanted to walk on his own since being naked under a blanket was one humiliation but having to nearly be carried out was almost worse. "I…try…to…walk…" he blankly thought it sounded good even before he swore he heard two nearly identical snorts and negative replies. "…Can so."
"Huh, and here I always wondered if he got any of the infamous Winchester stubbornness," Markus commented dryly, silently reminding himself to ask Dean what in the hell he'd fed this kid growing up.
"Oh, hell yes he did," Dean heard the Impala finally pulling up and vowing to kill Garth if he scratched his car since it shouldn't have taken that long to get it back here. "Hang around long enough and you will see him give me the bitchface to the Nth degree," though he doubted if he'd be seeing that any time soon. "Hey, you'd get lost?"
Garth paused in the door to shake his head, gasping. "Uh, no. Had a small Fed issue," he admitted, eyeing Markus cautiously. "Your partner is swearing at you in Latin, dude."
"Crap," Markus knew if Rory was lapsing into languages that something was wrong and he'd never hear the end of this one. "What? All he had to do was take one guy into custody and keep an eye on the psycho's husband until I decide what his part in all this was. What's he bitching about?"
"Your partner speaks enough Latin to cuss you out in it?" Dean, who barely knew enough Latin to speak an exorcism, found that a little strange.
Garth's eyes were wide as he swore Sam looked worse now than he had a little bit ago but he remembered what he was saying while holding the basement door open as wide as possible so they didn't jar Sam into it. "Umm, about that," he coughed, looking back as a tall black haired man in jeans and a T-shirt appeared in the main door. "I think he better tell you."
"Come to Texas. I need help arresting some people. It's a simple job. No stress or problems. Was that theory before or after the old guy back there got his son-in-law's gun and blew his head all over the damn porch?" he demanded in an accent that was pure Louisiana basin.
Latching onto Sam who nearly went down in his attempt to pull back at the sound of the louder, Cajun accented voice and only Dean and Markus's grips on him kept them all from falling.
"Easy, little brother, easy," Dean soothed, tightening his grip enough to let Sam know he was safe while motioning to Garth to open the back doors up. "I think this guy's with Bry…though you might want to breathe a little, pal."
"Thompson did what?" not expecting the older man to be that desperate to either escape judgment or face losing his daughter, this development shocked him while not upsetting him too much. "Where's Richardson?"
Flicking dark eyes from his friend and the men he seemed to be helping, Rory Devane suddenly had a hunch why his partner had taken this job on solo and a look at the sagging young man in the middle also told him what they'd been dealing with.
"Oh, he's just sitting on the porch steps. He said he didn't want to go anywhere until he found out how…Sam was," tilting his head just a little to indicate Sam, Rory lifted a questioning eyebrow to his friend. "This him and do I need just cuffs or a body bag this trip?"
"Shut up and go cuff the guy until I see what he really wants out of all this," Markus shot back, ignoring the look Dean was giving him. "Ignore the Cajun moron I work with. He has fewer brains than you do normally."
"Uh-huh. Use a lot of body bags, Agent?" Dean asked, feeling Sam's leg buckle as they got him off the porch and finally reached the Impala.
Deciding it would be a bad idea to allow Dean and Rory to spend more than five minutes together, Markus just shot a glare while maintain his grip on Sam to allow Dean to get in the back seat before slowly lowering the younger man in to his brother.
"Where…?" Sam gasped in pain again, managing to bite his lip to keep the full cry in until he was eased to his side as much as possible in the cramped back seat but something about the feel of the leather under his hand brought a sense of home…of comfort to him. "De…you…?"
"I'm right here, Sammy," Dean promised, using his balled up denim jacket as a pillow when he tried to get Sam to lay his head down on it, while pulling the blankets up tighter but not missing the shallow way his brother was breathing or the feel of blood soaking through the blanket. "Just rest now, little brother. We'll have you taken care of and on the good stuff soon."
As Garth got back behind the wheel, Bryan Markus knelt in the open back door to meet the grim eyes of his friend. "Does he have any FBI ID in the car you can use?" he asked, knowing that Dean wouldn't be able to handle too many questions at the hospital and going the Fed route would at least ensure them some privacy.
"Always," Dean replied shortly, feeling Sam grab his hand again as if needing some type of contact to ground himself and he looked down to offer a smile when all the calm he'd been trying to show went away at the first sight of blood coming from Sam's mouth. "Sammy? Hey, look up at me now."
Sam could hear his brother but only dimly and thought it weird that he suddenly felt so cold, not feeling the warmth of the amulet or Dean's hand as much anymore either. "… … D…" gasping as his side and lower back blossomed in agony, he jerked hard against his brother and only heard a sharp and vicious oath before things went black for him.
"Shit!" Dean snarled at the first jerk of Sam's body and then all hell broke loose in the backseat because it was hard enough to hold Sam still when the violent convulsions began and the young hunter began choking on blood. "Sammy? What the hell?"
"He must be bleeding internally," Markus swore under his breath, motioning Garth over to the passenger side while jumping behind the wheel. "Rory! Call the local ER, tell them I'm bringing in a critically hurt man. He's bleeding internally and has multiple wounds so have them waiting for us!"
Not bothering to wait for a reply and more than accustomed to the Impala, he tossed Garth his phone to pull up the closest Hospital on his GPS then met Dean's wide eyes in the mirror. "Hang onto him and just talk to him, like you've been doing," he urged, fighting panic himself but needing to keep Dean from losing it because if he did then they were all in deep shit.
"C'mon, Sammy. Hang on. Don't let that bitch win like this," he pressed his hand tighter around the hand that Sam still held the amulet in, ignoring the tears he felt on his own face while easing Sam up more so he could lean him back against his chest in hopes to keep him from choking on his own blood.
"Hey, did I tell you that I've decided to downgrade your number one super fan from obsessed to just crazy? Yeah, there's someone more twisted than Becky and…you can yell at Garth for being buddies with her on that Facebook thing and…" Dean ran shaking fingers back through Sam's grimy filthy hair while letting his brother's face rest against his neck.
Trying to focus too many ways nearly caused Dean to miss the most important thing of all. He was about to tell Garth to dig in the glovebox for a couple IDs when a sudden chill went through him. "Sammy?" he glanced down to see the amulet laying in Sam's open hand and it was then that he suddenly noticed that he couldn't feel his brother's breath on his neck anymore. "Sam!"
"Dean, what?" Garth turned to lean over the seat to help as Dean shifted Sam so he was sitting up in the seat and he shined his little flashlight in to allow some light and gasped. "Shit! His lips are blue!"
"How far to the ER?" Dean demanded, pushing back the panic that was building faster than he could block it as he felt for a pulse along Sam's neck. "Bryan! How long?"
A glance at the GPS on his phone had his gut sinking hard but he pressed his foot harder on the gas. "Twenty minutes if I push her. How is he?" he let his eyes leave the road long enough to meet the terror filled green ones in the mirror and recognized tears along with guilt and building grief.
"He's not breathing."
TBC
A/N: I know. I'm evil. One more chapter and remember, I don't write death fics so trust me. I will wrap this up nice and tidy.
