Chapter 24 - A Sick Thought
The pain still coursed slightly through Dean's body as an after effect of that damn drug they had given him. He had lay still on the bed for hours, and finally managed to doze off as the pain went away. It was in this position that Anthony found him, and he casually withdrew his gun and fired a shot into the wall beside Dean's head. Dean shot awake instantly, his hands automatically covering his face in protection.
'Oh I'm sorry,' said Anthony sarcastically. 'Did I wake you?'
After releasing the shackle that held Dean to the bed, he roughly pulled him to his feet, ensuring that every bone in Dean's body was jolted harshly. Dean didn't even wince as the grogginess from his sleep was swept away, and his body felt strong again. He eyed Anthony thoroughly, taking in that Anthony had a gun on his hip; probably one on his ankle, and his pocket had a knife. They were making sure there were no screw-ups, and Dean knew they wouldn't hesitate to kill him. Or Sam.
But that didn't dampen his spirit.
'Where are you taking me,' Dean demanded, planting his feet firmly on the ground as Anthony attempted to pull him from the room. 'Tell me!'
'Don't make me shoot you,' threatened Anthony. 'JOEL!'
Joel immediately entered the room, gripping Dean's other arm, and together they dragged him towards the door, each step a battle against a fighting Dean. Dean struggled furiously the entire trip down the hall, digging his heels into the ground and basically making life difficult for Joel and Anthony.
They dragged him up the stairs, holding on with a deathly grip as Joel kicked the door open to the room that Dean had been in before that had the one-way window. Using the last of their strength they flung Dean in and onto the floor, Anthony entering the room with him as Joel shut and locked the door.
There was a chair in the corner, and Anthony plonked himself tiredly into it, his gun sitting on his lap threateningly. Dean scrambled to his feet and dusted himself off, glancing warily at Anthony, before averting his gaze to the next room. He had a feeling of what was coming, and as the door opened, he saw that he was right.
Sam looked lifeless as he was dragged in, his eyes open and dead, his body language limp and surrendering. Joel dumped him unceremoniously onto the floor and left immediately.
'What did you do to my brother?' Dean asked, anger streaked harshly across his face. Anthony just grinned.
'You don't wanna know,' he said lightly, polishing the muzzle of his gun.
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Sam felt dead. He didn't want to move, he didn't want to speak. All he wanted was his mum, his dad, his girlfriend…his brother. He had no purpose of living anymore. He had lost everything…and it was his entire fault. Something caught his eye, and he slowly turned his head, his eye's settling on the small piece of metal.
It was a blade of some sort, not too big, but very, very sharp. This was his one chance to get out of this mess. Sam dragged his non-responsive body across the room, and his hand shivering in anticipation of what he was about to do, he picked up the metal and slumped back against the wall.
He held it up in front of his face, as if to see it more clearly, then ran it along his finger, and saw crimson blood immediately bubbling to the surface. He watched, almost in awe as blood ran down his finger and dripped onto his lap.
He gulped slightly, and as he poised the blade above his wrist, ready for attack, his empty eyes looked up at the mirror that taunted him with his broken image, encouraging for him to do it. With venom he dropped his hand towards his outstretched wrist.
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Dean saw it before Sam did. The glint of metal, sitting metres away from his grief-stricken brother was making him feel sick. Dean knew that Sam wasn't coping…he knew that Sam thought he had lost everything. If only he would realise that Dean was still alive…still with him. His stomach lurched as Sam turned his head, his eyes settling on the metal.
'No,' said Dean. 'Sammy…Sam. No. Don't even think about it.'
He whirled to face Anthony, his face obviously panicked.
'Get in there and get that metal out of there!' ordered Dean. 'Get it out now! He'll kill himself!'
'That's the point,' drawled Anthony lazily. He slowly stood up. 'I gotta watch this.'
Dean looked at him horrified before turning back to Sam, who had just picked up the sharp metal. Dean inhaled quickly as Sam cut his finger, the blood that ran down his brother's finger making the bile rise in the back of his throat.
'GET IT OUT NOW!' screamed Dean. Sam's hand was raised, his wrist outstretched, and his eyes looked up emptily, and looked Dean square in the eye.
Dean couldn't take it any longer, and he lunged at Anthony, taking the man by surprise. In his fury, the single punch that flew at Anthony's head knocked him unconscious. Dean desperately grabbed the gun, and fired off 6 shots at the glass, shattering it into millions of tiny pieces. Sam's raised hand had begun its descent, but as the glass shattered, it paused midway, still hovering threateningly.
'SAM!' screamed Dean.
Using the gun he knocked out some of the remaining glass, and clambered through the window, small cuts appearing over his body as the glass cut into him. He discarded the gun immediately and rushed towards his brother.
'Sam! Sam, it's ok…I'm alive. They didn't kill me! Drop the blade…please Sam.'
'Go away!' yelled Sam, tears brimming onto the edge of his eyes. He scrambled to his feet, and backed into the corner, the blade still held above his wrist.
'Sam…' Dean said, taking a step towards his brother.
'Stay back!'
'Sam…I know this is hard…please, drop the blade,' pleaded Dean. 'They did this to you on purpose. They're trying to make you crazy.'
Sam looked unsure momentarily, but it went back to mad.
'No! They killed you…and you came back and told me it was my fault! You and dad both told me that because of me mum, Jess and your deaths were my fault! You told me once it wasn't my fault…you lied to me! Stop haunting me…just go away!'
'Sam I never lied to you!' Dean said back, louder than he anticipated. 'It wasn't you're fault…you know that! And I promise I am not a ghost. I'm not haunting you Sam…you're haunting yourself. Please…drop the blade.'
'I don't believe you!'
Dean was heartbroken. He didn't know what to do…he had never seen Sam like this.
'Sam…I did everything for you,' said Dean, his voice flowing with pain. 'Don't you remember when we were kids…Dad was out on a hunt. You were 6, and you were so scared that there was a monster in your closet that was going to hurt you as you slept. I sat by your bed the whole night, and kept you safe.
And then I did it again the next night…and the next, until Dad got home. I told you then, and I'll tell you now, that I would always be there for you, and that you should never be afraid when I'm around. Coz nothing bad will ever happen to you as long as I'm breathing. Please Sam…put the blade down…you're breaking my heart.'
Sam's lower lip trembled as the memory came flooding back. He could still see the motel room, the closet…and his brother by his side as he drifted off to sleep. He could still hear the words echoing through his brain...
But still, the blade hung above his wrist, his hand still determined to go through with it.
'I don't believe you…' he said softly, and in a swift motion, pressed the blade to his wrist.
'SAM!' cried out Dean. 'NO!'
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sorry for the delay...really, i am. i hope this is ok.
please review! it encourages me to write and then i update quicker.
Thanks to my beta Steff
Nikki