Dungeons and Chains

Warnings: Language, of course but I'll also toss in one for descriptive descriptions. Nothing too major but there are a couple. Also, Amelia fans…yeah, you won't like this one so maybe avoid.

Chapter Two

Stealth, creeping around dark places without being seen or caught and knowing the right weapon to kill whatever creepy thing that popped up that week were things that Dean Winchester had known all about since he was first old enough to hold a weapon and kill something on a hunt.

His childhood had ended at four years old on the night his mother died on the ceiling of his brother's nursery. Though in Dean's opinion his life as a hunter began at ten years old when he killed his first monster while protecting his baby brother.

Protecting Sammy, looking after Sammy, dying for Sammy had been Dean's mantra pretty much all his thirty four years.

He'd heard all the jabs and snotty comments about co-dependent crap but all he knew was that regardless of the fact that Sam was four inches taller than he was or how many issues had come up between them, Sam was still his little brother and he'd always protect him.

The few times he'd failed to protect meant Dean had to fall back on his other belief that anyone who hurt his little brother needed to have something vital ripped out of the bodies.

That was what kept swirling in his head now as he finished looking around the carnage in the old warehouse in a nearly abandoned shipping factory area.

Protecting Sam and making certain whoever had hurt his brother wouldn't be around to do it to anyone else had been huge in his life for as long as he could recall. This time it was a bit more personal as he wiped his bloody knife off on the jacket of a body on the floor.

Both males had been shot, one outright and the other in the kneecap and both before the hunter had even stepped foot in this sadists dream of an adult entertainment playland.

The decorations and 'furniture' had turned his stomach from the second he'd view it through the starlight scope of the high powered sniping rifle he very rarely used but as either a hunter or a big brother, no one would say Dean Winchester was a fool.

He'd known his target wouldn't come here alone even though she expected Sammy to be strung out on whatever the hell she'd done to his head during those long eleven months she'd had him with her in Texas.

Seeing the two guys built like linebackers hadn't surprised him but it was what he learned later on that had and it was that knowledge that now brought him to this moment.

Dean had another side to him, one that he'd kept carefully hidden behind a wall of cocky arrogance and swagger. A side that very few people had seen and one he'd made damn certain to never allow his brother to see surface.

Even when he and Sam had been younger, Dean had a temper that could go dark and lethal when he let go of too much control or Sam was hurt.

His time in Hell, his time with Alastair had only deepened that temper as well as honing it to a razor sharp edge. He'd learned, seen and done things in Hell that he still wouldn't reveal to Sam and he'd buried those urges after getting out.

Only once had he fallen back on those skills and that hadn't been on his own doing. This time however after taking all he could, after hearing what he had, Dean had let those walls drop and had embraced that dark temper for the first time in close to four years.

The man who'd taken such pleasure in bragging and posturing in order to distract the hunter had ended his bragging on a gurgle of blood after seeing why it wasn't such a good idea to bring Sam's name up while Dean was already pissed off.

Lifting his eyes from the blade in his hand to across the room to a wall that had been littered with various styles of chains and restraints he slowly met the widening brown eyes of who had hurt Sam in a way that Dean wasn't even certain he could help him heal from.

Standing to step over the body of the man he'd killed with such cold detachment that a piece of Dean wondered if he shouldn't be worried, he held the knife steady but made certain Amelia Richardson could see the edge on it.

"Your turn, bitch."

Twenty-Four Hours Earlier:

"Um…okay. Did you guys develop some kinks or something from the last time I was here or this is whole chaining your half naked brother to a wall thing new?"

"No…no, and actually Sam mostly chained himself up before I got to him," Dean admitted, not missing the small blush on the girl's face as she looked between him and Sam. "Charlie, don't make me regret calling you."

Charlie Bradbury was still at a loss as to why Dean Winchester had called her in the first place. "Dude, I'm not a hunter…even if I can shoot almost as good as you and what is up with the whole dungeon theme anyway?" she wanted to know, standing outside the door to try to take in as much as she could without actually going in. "I can think up some really cool scenarios but…"

"Get it out of the gutter," Dean still squirmed a little at the wicked little smile on the petite redhead's face but then decided to suck it up since that was one of the reasons he'd wanted her to be with his brother.

Sam would be uneasy and more than a little scared right then considering he had a head full of memories about a time filled with nothing but shame and pain and his body was trying to fight him to follow through with the hidden orders a damn trigger word was causing.

He was only alright if Dean was with him but for the elder Winchester to do what needed to be done to help his brother this time it required leaving and there was no way that Dean planned to leave his sick, shaking, barely with it sibling chained in their dungeon alone.

That's what brought Charlie back to the base because if Dean was going to leave Sam alone with anyone right then it would be her because out of all the people in their lives, the ones still living that is, the petite little firecracker of a girl would be the only one he'd trust with Sam and that he figured Sam would feel safe with.

Especially since Charlie was the only female they knew that didn't look at either of them in any way other than friendship and it was safe for Dean to say that he and Sam had sort of accepted her into their little dysfunctional family as the closest thing to a sister they were going to have.

"If we get out of these trials and I get Sam's head back on straight from this I'll let you house sit one hunt and you can play in the dungeon," Dean decided he didn't need those images since he still had the ones from walking in on her making out with another chick in his head. "Now, can we focus?"

Blinking bright eyes up at him, the smile turned serious as a sound from Sam reminded her that she was here on business. "So…care to tell me what's happening and what I'm supposed to do?"

"In a nutshell, while I was MIA in Hell's backyard it seems like some nutcase vet with a kink for chains, drugs, and BDSM got her hands on Sam and did a number on him," Dean moved into the dungeon with a bottle of Gatorade and a rag.

"She must've gotten bored with her husband cause last night she called Sam's phone and left a few…interesting messages. One of 'em included a trigger word that she must have gotten into his head and he had enough strength left to fight it while locking himself down in here," the hunter didn't like how warm Sam seemed now as he knelt down to place the cold cloth on the back of his brother's neck and frowned at the moan.

Catching the phone tossed to her, Charlie read through the messages with her eyes going wider with each one before narrowing. "Bitch," she muttered with a huff, watching as Dean tried to get his brother to sip but Sam seemed to either be unconscious or ignoring Dean. "Hypnotism or something else?"

"I'd say the first one if she hadn't branded him but it's not making sense how a vet would know how to do anything major," Dean was trying to split his attention as he heard Charlie whip out that tablet thing she carried with her…the one he knew Sam was trying to justify the expense to get himself one and his limp, fevered brother who hadn't been even semi-lucid in hours.

"Her Dad spent some time in Haiti so she might've picked up some stuff down there or knows someone who did," Charlie wished this room had a more light but coped as best she could since this is where she was planning to stay for the foreseeable future. "Also, is it just a weird fluke that she shows up to get Sam back just a week after her husband shoots himself?"

Glad he'd cleaned the floor up as Dean fell in his haste to whirl back to the girl. "Come again. What're you talking about and how the hell would you even…God, I hate that thing," he mumbled, looking at the screen as Charlie came closer and he read the announcement of Don Richardson shooting himself after suffering from severe PTSD.

Seeing the frown forming, Charlie sat down with her legs crossed while tapping to bring up something else. "Now, that's the 'official' word but unofficially the local cops suspect that the guy didn't off himself because the scene was too clean, the note too perfect. They want to talk to his wife but…it seems she's dropped off radar," she looked up. "Guess we know why."

"We seriously need to find you another hobby," Dean couldn't find fault in her logic but then dropped his gaze when he felt Sam move a little. "Hey, you waking up a second?" he asked, making certain to keep his tone level despite how badly it wanted to shake at how glassy and lost Sam's half opened eyes appeared.

It took Sam a couple minutes before he seemed to know who was with him and his tense body relaxed again but he still refused the liquid. "…Hurts…to bad," he whispered, jerking as Dean touched the chain. "No! Don't let…"

"I'm not letting it go, Sam," Dean assured him even though every part of him was shouting to do just that because chaining his brother up like this went against his inner big brother side. "I just want to make sure you can move a little while I'm gone."

"Gone?" Sam looked lost as that sank in until it must have hit him why his brother was leaving and the panic set in. "No, De! Don' go there. She'll…hurt you and then you won' come…back and…"

Catching Sam's face to keep him from jerking it back and forth and possibly hitting his head, Dean held it still until he could hear Sam's breathing slowing down. "The only way to help you is for me to deal with her, Sammy and hey, the day your awesome big brother can't deal with some vet is the day we talk about retiring," he replied, keeping the cockiness in his voice. "I said I'd make this right and I will but you have to trust me."

Blinking cloudy eyes through a haze of pain and memories, Sam nodded a little before letting his head rest back against the wall. "I…trust you," he murmured, no doubts about that since his brother was the only person he ever would fully trust.

"You sure I can't just hack into one of those satellites upstairs and maybe drop a laser beam on her ass?" Charlie had been struggling to hold back tears as she watched the Winchesters and it tore at her to think of some kinky bitch hurting Sam like this. "Or maybe just drop an actual satellite on her so she'd go poof? Not as painful but equally…what? I'm a gamer so I have…an imagination."

Dean wasn't quite sure if the girl was kidding or serious because Charlie was a lot like Sam in that way and he hated it. "Alright, if you can't play nice I'm taking that thing off of you," he warned, deciding just by the look in her eyes that perhaps she wasn't quite joking and considering some of the things he'd seen her do on a computer that worried him.

"I don't need the damn FBI on my ass again so no hacking into government computers while I'm gone," he ordered firmly, squeezing Sam's arm to get his dim attention once again. "Charlie's gonna stay with you while I'm gone, Sammy so anything you need or want just tell her."

For a moment with the way Sam tensed it looked like he might argue but slowly as he kept his eyes locked on Dean's as if seeing in that gaze what his brother wasn't saying out loud before letting his gaze shift just enough that he could see Charlie.

Since meeting the Winchesters, Charlie had seen some weird stuff and nearly been lunch for some weirder stuff but it was seeing how pale and almost fragile Sam looked chained against a wall in a dungeon in only some boxers that began making some things she'd learned about them make more sense.

She liked to think her boys were the super strong heroes that despite the danger, despite the injuries nothing got them down. She'd seen how bad Sam was looking the last time she'd been with them but now, as she crouched down to be more at eye level with him she couldn't believe how much worse he seemed.

"Hey, Sam," she murmured quietly then silently chided herself for feeling so awkward when she wasn't the one chained to a wall in boxers with some nut job trying to play at mind control. "You look like shit."

Dean ran his tongue over his teeth to try to hide the grin then held his breath as his brother shifted more until he was sitting up fully to force his eyes to look at her.

"…Too late…for Garth?" Sam asked him softly but despite how he must be feeling and how hard it was for him to focus a small half smile came. "Hi, Charlie.

"Garth hugs too much and hugging is so not what will help you right now," Dean tried to make it sound light but there was no disguising the deep concern he felt when he caught the way Sam's body tried to curl up when it seemed Charlie got too close. "Sammy, this ain't Becky. You know that Charlie won't hurt you," he murmured, letting his fingers card back through Sam's hair a few times until he felt him relax again. "She's probably the only female on the planet that's I'd trust you with like this."

"Hey, watch it!" shooting Dean a glare, Charlie smirked. She understood why he wanted her to be with Sam and that was fine with her. "You know I've read some of the stuff that so-called super fan writes and I can safely say I would be the envy of most of her readers for being in the same room with a dopey and chained Sam Winchester. You're lucky Becky's more type."

It never failed to amuse her when she could get a reaction out of the normally stoic Dean. She especially adored when he blushed…not that she'd ever risk telling him that. Of course she also couldn't resist asking something else while he was keeping his focus on Sam before leaving.

"Dean? Can I ask you…something?" she asked, all sweet and innocently and knew that Dean was distracted when he merely let out a grunt.

Sam, on the other hand, seemed to have heard something in that tone because one eye lifted then he began watching his brother and friend.

"You know I read all those books about you guys…especially the one with the monster truck and the whole full…" Charlie was quick to hide her grin as a pair of green eyes shot up to shut her up with a glare. "Just kinda curious how much Carver Edlund…exaggerated in…areas, y'know?"

As Dean vowed to once again burn those damn books and find Chuck long enough to kill him even if it meant resurrecting him, he heard a muffled giggle and a snort, fighting not to snarl. "Shut up, Sam," he warned, tone dropping dangerously low but his brother's fever and current issues had put Sam back into a slightly loopy state of mind.

It was the state of mind that Dean hated because he never knew what would come out of his little brother's mouth next and he sure as hell didn't need Sam giving Charlie more ammo.

"At least…she didn't ask…if you and Caleb had done it," Sam snickered, too tired and hazy to catch the way Charlie's mouth dropped or how his brother seemed to be counting to a thousand when his brain changed course again to zero in on the girl. "Charlie…Becky's bad news so you don' wanna…"

"Okay, so he's off again," Dean sighed, giving Sam's shoulder a gentle squeeze instead of what he felt like doing as he got to his feet while jerking his head toward the door. "As you can see, he's basically harmless like this and he can't get out of those cuffs."

She guessed she should've been a little worried about being alone with Sam when he was barely with it and towered over her normally but as she glanced back to see that he'd let his head drop so this chin was resting on his chest again, all Charlie could feel was a huge surge to protect.

"What do I do?" she asked, noticing that Dean had been watching her in silence as if waiting for her to say that she couldn't do this. "Hey, I fought a Djinn who tried to make me its lunch or something, Leviathans and some screwy nut, so you better not smirk, buster."

Getting a sharp finger poked in his chest could have made the hunter laugh but the fierceness in the little redhead's eyes made him relax a little. "You know where most everything is, including the kitchen. You can set up a little table outside the door if you want to play on Sam's laptop or that thing of yours…no hacking missile sites, so you don't have to be in the room if it freaks you out," he wasn't certain what would freak Charlie out these days but didn't want to take the chance. "He should be okay so long as he knows he's not alone totally and once I leave he might not talk at all so just occasionally try to get him to drink something and let him know you're here."

Mentally writing down those orders and the half a dozen other ones she knew Dean would never say aloud, Charlie chewed her lip at a sudden thought. "What if he…you know…has to…"

"I'll worry about that when I get back and clean him up cause he probably will throw up again since he's sick and if he dreams too much, thoughts of her come back and he pukes so that's my deal once I handle this," Dean hoped it would be that simple.

A large part of Dean wanted to forget this and stay with his brother but the other part realized the only way to help Sam was to deal with his past and that meant going to have a little face to face chat with the bitch that had hurt his brother and had nearly come between them more than even Ruby had.

"Sammy, be good for Charlie and maybe I'll buy you one of those tablet things she has," he waited to see if there was any response but only heard a slight whimper as the damn memories were coming back to Sam. "Call me if he gets worse and…I'll call you when it's over."

Dean reached for his jacket when he looked down at the light touch to his arm to see Charlie watching him. "He'll be alright, kiddo."

"Make it hurt?" she asked, clearly not caring what Dean planned so long as the people responsible for hurting Sam bled.

"That's my plan," he promised, giving in to her hug while letting his hand rest on her hair briefly before stepping back. "Oh and if anyone named Garth calls…don't tell him where I went."

Nodding, Charlie started to turn when she whirled. "Wait! I don't know where you're…damn it," she looked between the hall and dungeon proper before sighing and going in to sit on the floor a little bit away from Sam. "So, I'll tell you my life story and you can tell me all about yours and Dean's."

She knew Sam wasn't coherent right then but had already decided that she wasn't going to sit in some comfy chair in the hall while he was stuck chained to some cold wall and just hoped Dean could handle this without losing his temper.

Twelve Hours Later, deserted factory area, Kansas:

Dean wasn't as good on the computer as his brother but he knew how to get out of one what he needed when he had to.

Using his GPS to figure out what kind of area Sam was supposed to be meeting Amelia in, he took the time to actually look into the area and what surrounded it.

He'd figured it was a safe bet that it would be in an isolated place with little to no people around it because something in his gut just told Dean this chick was the kind who liked a lot of noise with her sex games so it was a shock that the factory was set literally in the middle of nowhere.

Parking the Impala two miles away to avoid anyone hearing him, Dean took what he thought he'd need with him and had to hide the smile when he caught sight of the old water tower across from the building.

Spotting the large van along with a smaller car, he wasn't aware of the frown that had formed because it shouldn't have been a surprise that the woman was alone either. He needed to push down the sour taste building as he wondered just what game she had in store for his brother.

Letting his hand curl into a fist the hunter had to also fight against his basic instinct to charge into the building to put an end to Sam's suffering. The more he thought at Sam the more intense that urge became until he stepped back a little to allow the hunter to take over.

Dean had been taught by an ex-Marine and one of his Dad's first lessons had been to never let your emotions rule you during a hunt.

To hunt you needed to be calm, to stay focused and not let your emotions get the better of you because those were ways good hunters got to be dead hunters and Dean had too much to do yet to become one of those.

So with a lot more focus that he thought possible right then, he easily scaled the ladder to the water tower to set up the gear he'd brought that he and Sam hardly ever used.

The long range microphone hadn't been used since…well he tried not to think of that because that brought back memories of Bobby and he had enough dark feelings swirling right then to need more, but it would give him a better idea of who was in the building, how many and where they were so his other item would be of use.

John Winchester had trained both of his sons to use any number of weapons they either had or came across but it had also quickly become clear to the former Marine that each of his boys had his own strengths.

While Sam, even with his reluctance to hunt, seemed to excel with knives it had been guns that Dean had taken to. Give Dean a gun and he could master it.

Sniper rifles didn't often get used in hunting but Dean still kept on in the trunk of the Impala just for that off chance of needing one.

He didn't need the tripod but he used it this time because he wanted any shot he made to be steady and depending on what he heard he couldn't promise that his hands would stay steady enough to hold the rifle.

Especially when the earpiece in his ear began to buzz and voices filtered in as he used the scope to look in the high windows which were placed so that he could still see a little if the person walked in the center of the room.

"You sure he'll come?"

"Of course he will, Dale. My Sammy's been so well trained that he can't not come to me…well, not once I used the trigger word I implanted in his subconscious after finally breaking him and before binding him to me."

Dean's lips pulled back in a snarl as he heard the woman's voice when it hit him what she'd said and wanted to groan.

Hypnosis he could've handled. Hell, even a minor little voodoo spell he probably could've broken without too big an issue but blood bindings were a pain in the ass.

Not to mention he had very little experience with trigger words except to know they were bad news but he knew how susceptible his little brother could be to things because he'd had Sam clucking like a chicken for a week every time someone said egg.

It had been a harmless prank he'd played on his twelve year old brother while bored at Bobby's one day but it hadn't been fun when Sam cried after figuring it out and then Dean was forced to admit to the prank to their Dad after not being able to undo it.

Dean had willingly taken that punishment if only to help Sammy and he'd handle this now to do the same though it would be someone else being punished for screwing with his brother.

"You boys just remember that you're to help me contain him in the either the chain or the cage until I start reminding him just who he belongs to," Amelia was speaking again, the tone much too prim and proper as the sound of chains rattling grated over already tense nerves. "I'll drug him as I go but I want him in pain to start with because he was very bad by running away."

"You got enough toys in this place?" this voice was also male but deeper seemed amused. "Thought you liked using your hands on your boy?"

Amelia's laugh was like broken glass as the scope of the rifle finally brought her into view. "Oh, I do, Jerry," she sounded far too amused for Dean's liking. "You remember what he was like back in Kermit. How he fought, tried to make it seem like he wasn't already mine and even when the drugs finally kicked in the way he fought me."

"Sugar, you had a studded glove on and you fisted that boy. He could've been in a coma and I reckon he'd have fought you that time," the deeper voice chuckled. "Course now I losing work coming to help you so are you gonna share him this time or not?"

"I let you have some basic fun with him, Jerry and I might after he's broke and begging again but for now all I need you boys with is to help me get him to that point," she chuckled. "He should be here soon since by this time his whole body is probably on fire because once I activate the trigger it's only so long before his body goes back into that full hard on stage I always kept him."

Blood running like ice now, Dean's temper was spiking as he listened to what was being said and how calmly the woman was discussing how it was when she'd drugged, tortured, raped and hurt his brother.

It was when the other man talked about what he'd do to Sam if he got the chance that it was enough. The moment the man's too bald head came into the scope, the faintest brush of Dean's finger caused the rifle to fire and he didn't wait to make sure the shot was good before adjusting his aim a bit more for the next one and shot again.

Knowing the confusion that the two rapid shots would cause inside would also give him the time to get to the ground, pull his handgun and get inside, Dean was moving quickly even as he heard a faint scream which also gave him a clue as to how soundproof this place was.

Dropping both the rifle and microphone where he could grab them on the way out, Dean's mind wasn't even fully aware of how dark his thoughts were going as he jerked open the only door in the building and going in low to fire at the first movement he sensed.

It was that move that saved his life because he'd actually expected the two shots to have startled the woman. So he wasn't expecting the spiked bat to swing at his head.

"Sonuvabitch!" he hissed, feeling it whistle over his head while coming up to grab a thin looking wrist and twisting it hard to hear a scream before shoving hard. "You're a dead bitch as it is so don't give me another reason to make it quicker than I planned."

Dean's Colt 1911 was steady as it aimed at the shocked, in pain face of Amelia Richardson and for the first time he got to see the woman up close and frankly wasn't impressed.

As someone who has been enjoying women since probably long before he should've been, Dean liked to think he was a good judge and easily pinned this one down with a quick look.

She was probably around the 5'7" range which meant his brother would've towered over her if not drugged or confused most of the time and she probably did top out at above a hundred ten pounds so that would explain why she'd need help.

Her long curly black hair was currently in her face but Dean had glimpsed enraged brown eyes right before she'd tried to take his head off and he supposed she was pretty in a way, especially for his brother who hadn't really been with a steady girl in far too long or…one at all in a while since Dean refused to think on his time without a soul.

"Who are you?" she screamed, clutching her wrist as the bat was kicked away and the .45 didn't waver as it aimed at her heart. "You're making a mistake! You're…"

"No, actually I made the mistake when I didn't gank your damn ass the first night I learned he spent a year with you and I bought the excuses," Dean remarked quietly, green eyes glittering as he shifted to look around him.

The bald man was dead on the floor with the shot through the front of his head while the deeper voice son of a bitch was laying a few feet away clutching his knee and yelling from the pain.

Silently pleased that both shots had hit, Dean was almost going to just shoot the woman when the main room itself caught his eye and he went cold, hot then ice cold again as he raked his now narrowed eyes around the full area.

He was totally unaware of the snarl that was coming from his chest or how numb he was becoming; if he'd been aware of either then Dean would've known his carefully controlled temper was starting to fray.

While the old factory shell still looked like what it once had been, a good part of the interior had been changed to resemble something out of a deranged sex club in some bad porn film.

Actually, as Dean slowly let himself look he decided that this passed up the bad porn in a huge way and was closer to reminding him of Hell in too many ways.

Two walls were covered in chains of varying length, weight and design. Some were only hooked to the wall for hands but others, most of the others, had corresponding floor chains but he also saw a few that had extra hooks or restraints and he knew from hard experience that those were for total restraint.

Jerking his eyes away from the chains, he continued to look toward another space and this time heard the growl rumble as he took in the cages but he had to get away from them when something drew his attention.

The collar on the floor must have been what Amelia was holding when he shot her one buddy. "You are one sick piece of work," he mused, stilling keeping his .45 trained on her while leaning over to pick it up when one look at the attached name tag had his entire system going into overdrive and rage.

"Don't touch that, bastard!" Amelia shouted, eyes furious as she looked toward the bleeding Jerry for help but he seemed too busy moaning in pain. "That belongs to my…"

Not even aware that he'd moved until he was yanking the woman from the floor with his gun in her face while shoving her back against the closest wall, his handsome face now a mask of fury. "He's not your anything," he snarled, green eyes flashing as he wanted to wrap that collar around her throat like it was plain she'd planned to do to his brother.

The dog collar that was still clenched in one hand was made of heavy wide leather and had obviously seen use by the way it felt worn under his fingertips but it had been the attached name tag that had finally pushed the hunter over the edge.

'Sammy' had been engraved in it and her name on the back listed as the owner pushed his last nerve as he grabbed a wrist restraint with a cool look. "You liked to use this crap on my brother. Let's see how you like it, bitch."

Still stunned at this intrusion of her perfectly laid out scheme, Amelia gasped as this stranger quickly had her chained up against the wall in little time and with little effort. "You're…where's my Sammy?" she demanded, letting out a small cry when a strong hand gripped her face in a hold that was sure to bruise.

"Don't. Call. Him. That." Dean gritted, hating that this woman would spoil even that because while normally Sam hated that nickname it had gotten so that he'd only allow his brother to call him that and now he wasn't so sure about that. "You don't even say his name and Sam is far from here. He's far away from you and that's how it's going to stay."

"He belongs to me now. We're bound to one another and you can't stop that," she sneered, her pretty face now taking on a look of pure hate. "Give him to me or I'll kill you and take him anyway. I own him! I…"

Reaching for the first thing he could grab, Dean shoved a hard ball gag into her mouth just to shut her up before he lost full control and stepped back to turn with the .45 point down. "Uh-huh."

Jerry has managed to tie off his bleeding knee and decided to try to get behind this asshole who was ruining the plan when he froze as those hate filled green eyes pinned him. "You…you don't…wanna do this, boy," he began tightly, his leg in agony. "You let us go and…huh. She said the boy's brother was dead."

"Sam didn't know what I was and was looking for me when this bitch decided to go Fatal Attraction on him," Dean's attention was now on the man since he knew Amelia wasn't going anywhere for the moment and wanted to see just what this asshole's role was. "Were you there?" he demanded, wondering just what the hell else had happened in those eleven months. "I heard you say that she…"

Laying back on the floor to gaze up at this tall rugged young man, Jerry let his eyes roam. This one wasn't as tall or as muscular as the boy had been but he had the lean hungry look in him. "Yeah, I was around some of the time," he admitted, smirking. "Especially at the beginning when she was just breaking him in. He was a big one and even chained up or drugged she needed a little muscle at times to control him…like the night she stuffed her fist up that tight ass and…ugh!"

Dean's knee went down hard on the guy's chest as his fist flew three times in rapid succession to strike his jaw but pulled back before actually breaking it. "You don't want to piss me off more, asshole," he warned tightly, ignoring the sounds of chains rattling and the muffled enraged scream behind him. "Getting a bullet in the knee and probably the head is the least I can do to you so don't push this."

Jerry was a big man. He knew he was about as tall as this punk but he had him outweighed by a good seventy pounds but scowled as he was quickly restrained in a pair of handcuffs that he knew had come from Amelia's cart of toys.

He's seen the way this guy's temper shot to the surface at any mention of his brother's treatment at Amelia's hands and guessed he could still get the upper hand if he pissed him off enough to lose his cool and focus because one he unarmed this dick then he'd give him a taste of just what he did to that boy.

"You really wanna know what we did to that boy of yours?" he asked, hearing the click of the .45 but ignoring it. "You want me to tell you how he screamed for the first month or so whenever he wasn't jacked on drugs? Or how he begged for you or for her to let him go? Maybe you'd rather hear about that it took two of us to hold him down the first time little Amelia rode him or how she jacked him off with that vibrator shoved up his ass?"

Jerry could hear the ragged breathing coming now and knew the punk was close to losing his temper. "After she branded him and did whatever the hell it was she did, he still fought us cause she wanted him broke without having to use the drugs all the time. Y'see, Amelia has a kink for owning and she owned that boy in all ways.

"I loved to sit back and watch the things she made him do to himself all because she ordered him to. Oh, it was plain that he was fighting in his head but that hot body, all hard muscle, moved when she said to," he chuckled, licking his lips while keeping his hooded eyes on the young man now shaking as he knelt on his chest to pin him.

"She made him open himself up dry more than once. My favorite was when she chained him up while he was crouching with a spreader between his thighs, one of those huge vibrating plugs in that tight ass, a cock cage to keep him hard, some nipple clamps and she wore one of those nifty double dildos and fucked his mouth."

Jerry heard the sound of teeth clenching and knew it was only a matter of time before the grip on his cuffed wrists loosened enough so that he could overpower the guy and had the perfect last jab. "He had this ratty picture of the two of you in his wallet, y'know. After she was done with him, she made him suck off us off while she held that picture up so he could look at it while all four of us took turns with that mouth," he ran his tongue over his lips again. "Tell me, did you ever have a taste of that fine…agh!"

So busy with his lewd and obscene descriptions the man missed the subtle change that came over Dean as he fought to ignore the words, the images they made him see in his mind but it was the last question that finally did it and succeeded in pushing him over a very tight edge.

However it wasn't the result that either Jerry or even Dean expected because instead of the white hot fury that had been clouding his vision and should've ended up in him losing control of both his emotions and his ability to think straight the results of all the goading and bragging brought a cold, calm feeling.

Feeling his fingers close over the man's throat in a tight grip, Dean slowly recognized this eerie calmness that had slipped over the burning rage. He'd felt it the last time on the night the Angels had forced him to torture Alastair and he'd felt it for his last ten years (one month human time) in Hell.

"Mistake," he whispered, pressing down harder on the man's chest as he shoved his .45 into his belt to pull out his hunting knife. "That was a huge mistake."

Watching the sudden change come over the boy suddenly shook Jerry's confidence because he'd been expecting rage and pain to lash out but now all he saw were glittering rage in bright green eyes but the mask that had come over his face was one of perfect calm.

The only real sign of Dean's fury was the slight twitch of a muscle in his jaw but his hand that held the knife was perfectly steady as he cocked his head a little.

"You like to brag what you did to my baby brother? You enjoy the pain and the fear you freaks caused in him? You get off on his pain?" he dragged the tip of the knife down the man's cheek to press it into the hollow of his throat. "You thought by telling me all of that crap, pissing me off that I'd slip up and you'd get loose? No way in hell, asshole."

Dean knew his temper was past the point of no return and he was aware of what piece of him was in control now but as he debated locking it down again he thought of Sam, his little brother that he'd been protecting all of his life and the images flooded back along with every other time Sam had been hurt by some loose cannon and let the cold rage carry over.

"You and your buddies, the sick bitch over there, get your kicks like that? Kidnapping some poor guy, drugging him and torturing him until he breaks? You thought Sammy would be just like that because he was alone? Grieving and confused?" another hard crack with his fist had a satisfying sound of something break along with a scream as the point of the blade pierced his shoulder. "You have no idea what he is or what he's been through."

Not paying attention to the clumsy attempts to push him off or the shouts of pain, Dean's mind was back on Sam. What he'd seen, what he'd heard and finally what he could imagine and Dean's got a great imagination so it doesn't take much to figure out what else had happened to his brother while he was in Purgatory.

The remains of those feelings of betrayal left him as a bigger sense of guilt slid into him because Dean knew he should've seen the signs of abuse, the signs that Sam almost always had after being hurting too badly and in certain ways but he'd been top ragged, too on edge and too angry to let himself see that.

He'd let Sam think that he wasn't a good enough brother for him, that he'd let him down and the whole time the kid had been living in a nightmare.

"…Let…go…" Jerry gasped, jaw a mess that he could barely talk but it didn't stop the scream as the razor sharp blade sliced down his chest with just enough pressure to draw blood. "What…you…doing?"

What was Dean doing? He wasn't certain since he knew what he could do. Hell, he knew he could peel this asshole's skin off and leave him alive while doing it. He knew he could remove the eyes that had leered at his brother as he was being abused with just a useful flick of the knife blade.

Dean knew he could do any number of the tricks he'd been taught in Hell and God knew he accepted this asshole deserved it but it wasn't the man who'd first drugged Sammy. No, he knew who deserved that treatment and so with a snarl and a well-practiced twist of his wrist the knife flashed against the man's throat and he stepped back to eye Amelia.

"Your turn, bitch."

Chained to the wall, none of her rage had subsided even as she watched her toy's brother calmly and almost professionally kill Jerry before turning those glittering eyes her way.

A piece of Amelia chilled at the look but her anger at not having Sam back made her too stupid to know not to open her mouth when the gag was removed even through the edge of the bloody knife touched her throat.

"Tell me how to break the binding," Dean ordered, voice deeper than normal and harsh, unlike his own even when pushed past furious. "Tell me what you did to him and how."

Wetting her lips, she considered making a lewd comment about exactly what was done to his brother but the dark look glowering at her and the fact that all of Jerry's bragging hadn't caused him to snap gave Amelia a little warning that Sam's brother wasn't in a playing mood.

"You can't break it," she replied, voice low and almost breathless as she moved in the restraints holding her. "Dropping the trigger word was easy once he'd started to break. He was drugged senseless one night and I implanted it so that every time he heard that word he'd get hard and know it was time to serve his purpose. The binding though…that was more…fun."

Amelia tried to bow her body out from the wall to touch her twisting legs against Dean's hip, laughing as he stepped back with a look of pure disgust. "I branded him then cut him and drank his blood while giving him some of mine," she appeared quite pleased with that memory. "He'll never be free of me and no matter how hard you try to protect him I will have him again because eventually not obeying the orders will kill him which is fine since if I can't have him…no one else."

In all his years of hunting, of hustling, and of dealing with the weird and crazy this had to be the first true time that Dean could admit that he was feeling filthy just being in the same room with this wild eyed woman.

Amelia had been the one who in her depraved obsession with his brother had drugged and hurt him in ways that Dean wasn't certain if he knew how to help Sam heal from and he knew she deserved a slow, agonizing death for the pain and trauma she put his brother through.

Dean knew that and he wanted that. He wanted to hear her beg and scream as he was certain she'd made his little brother beg and scream. It wouldn't have been the first time that he'd used those damn dark skills on a woman since when in Hell you torture whoever gets put in front of you, another thing he'd kept back from Sam.

He'd done it before and the fury in his blood was pounding that he do it again, to use the knife in his hand to slice that pale skin off while using some of her own toys on her but a sick piece of Dean had a hunch that the woman wouldn't care.

Learning to read people was a must in his life and Dean could read this one like a used book. No matter the pain he caused her, no matter what he might do to her she wouldn't care.

She was the type who got off on the pain and the toys. No, he'd have to find a way to hurt her that would count, a way to really get to her while he tried to find a way to cut whatever link she had to Sam.

"I want to kill you so bad right now. I want to do to you what you did to my brother but I'm not that depraved or sick in the head," Dean remarked, feeling the edge of his adrenaline wearing off even as his head was telling him the only way to break a blood binding.

"You held my brother against his will no matter what you made him believe and God knows how many other guys you've done this to plus there's the matter of some cops in Texas wanting to talk to you about your husband's 'suicide'," he smirked while staying out of kicking range. "I'm going to wipe this place down and before I leave give the locals a call. I'm pretty sure the cops will have a field day with you and locking you in a nice quiet cell will keep you from ever bothering Sam again."

"No!" her scream echoed in the building, jerking her hands. "You can't keep him from me! He wants to be with me! He's so desperate for attention that he'll do anything for anyone…though maybe that's why you want him all to yourself!"

Dean stopped, making himself slip the knife away to pull his .45 back out just to have it in his hand. "Sammy's my baby brother and I love that kid more than I do my own life but it's only sick little freaks like you who'd take Sam's pain and use it against him," he aimed the Colt one final time. "I will say this once, come near Sam again, call him…if you get out of jail in the next fifty years, or bother him and I will kill you."

The promise was plain and her death is still want Dean wanted but no matter how much he felt like letting that side of him loose to do what he'd been taught in Hell to do, the woman was human…a sick one, but a human and he'd only killed a couple of those in his life.

"Bastard!" Amelia refused to lose what she felt was rightly hers.

She'd spent eleven months training Sam, punishing him, making him respond to her every demand with only a few tears or refusals and she'd be damned if his arrogant stuck up brother would take that away from her.

Dean was wondering if any of this could be traced back to him or Sam when the sounds of chains rattling, a muffled scream then something clattering to the ground had him turning. "Sonuvabitch!"

The shock of seeing that the woman had actually managed to twist her hands enough that she was able to pull them free from the cuffs, losing several layers of skin in the process, was one thing but the razor sharp stiletto blade she'd pulled from the cart of equipment changed the game completely.

"Sam's mine and I'll have him!" she rushed toward the man she saw as a threat to her happiness, intending to shove the knife into his heart. "You will never keep him from me! I'll kill you and take…"

The threat of danger, the threat to Sam kicked in even as Dean's arm was bringing the .45 up, cocking it and the shot that fired seemed to go all through the old factory even as it went through the woman's chest.

Her own forward movement kept Amelia's body moving before it gave out and she fell to the ground, landing on her own knife when it shifted in the shock of being shot.

Wide eyed and with blood trailing from her mouth, she looked back up once. "…Forever…"

"No. Sam's free," Dean whispered, letting his arm drop while still staring at the now still body of the woman who had hurt his brother and still would have if she had lived.

Killing a non-supernatural thing always left Dean with a different feeling. It wasn't that he hadn't killed before because he had, usually to protect his family but this time…this one didn't leave him with that feeling and he thought he knew why.

Amelia wouldn't have stopped. She was so twisted in the head that no matter what happened, unless she'd been locked up for good, she always would've been a threat to Sam and that was something that Dean wouldn't have allowed.

Plus, her death would also serve to sever the blood link or at least Dean silently hoped it had as his first instinct was to get the hell out and back to his brother in case the severing of the link hurt him but again that damn hunter side stepped in.

He had a building with three dead bodies and that would make the news for sure and also bring in the Feds and on top of closing Hell and handling whatever else came that was not something Dean needed or wanted so he pulled his phone out with a sigh and dialed a rarely used number these days.

Waiting to hear the gruff but wary voice answer, he sighed. "Jeff…it's Dean. I…I need help."

TBC

A/N: I know, I know. It was supposed to just have two chapters but…I think it deserves a third one. Thanks to everyone who had read this and look for CH 3 soon.