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I was going to steal Sam and Dean, but my computer crashed, and all my plotting material was lost!!! Which is why I am late with this. THANKFULLY I had sent this to a friend, or I would have had to start over. Yup … way frustrated on this end of the fandom!!

I am astounded by all the reviews I am getting on this story. Thanks to all who took the time to review, it means much! A special thanks to all of you who have stuck with me from my last story to this one! It means the world!

Thanks again to my friend Charlene for all the encouragement! You all can hate her though, cause she gets a sneak peek!!!!

Rated T for foul language and torture. Of course, there is Hurt, Limp, and Abused!Sam, Over Protective (with a bit of hurt!) and Fired up Pissed!Dean, and lots of angst in this story.

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"SONOFABITCH!!!"

Still holding tightly to the phone, Dean turned to slam his other fist into the wall directly behind him. His pent up anger reaching the boiling point, Dean swung again, ignoring any pain that punch was inflicting on himself.

"You bastard, I swear I'm gonna kill you!!"

It was the second time that the sick bastard that had his brother had called him. The second time he'd gotten the upper hand. No, it was the third … the first had been in the capture of his brother in the first place.

But it was the first time that Dean had heard Sam's voice in three days.

At first it raised the eldest Winchester's ire beyond all sense of reason and control. His anger seethed from every pore. It boiled over to burst free in a rage that had Dean punching the wall, the door, throwing things in a tantrum that would have been dangerous if anyone else had been around.

But still, he held onto that phone as if it were a lifeline; as if it were the air he breathed and the blood that coursed through his veins.

Finally, after throwing so many fists his knuckles were leaving bloody smears, his adrenaline vacated for calmer waters, and Dean, with his face pressed against the wall, slid slowly to the floor, the phone cradled against his chest.

His shoulder's hitched, and what came out was a choked sob. The silence in the room was dissipated by the sounds coming from the eldest of the Winchester clan. The sounds of tears, however, soon changed to that of maniacal laughter. It echoed out even as he stilled there, pressed against the wall, his cell phone pressed tightly to his chest.

"Dean?"

He hadn't heard the door; not a good thing for a hunter. He was too wrapped up in his own emotional meltdown that he honestly didn't care if the yellow-eyed demon himself had slithered from the depths of hell to cross the barrier of their door and kill him with but a glance.

"Dean, what is it son?"

He looked to Joshua, his expression not changing. Even as tears slid down his cheeks, the sounds he emitted were very much comical.

"He … he called again!!!"

Joshua looked at John's son as if he'd lost his mind. Maybe this was too much for him. Maybe the thought of losing Sam had sent Dean over the edge he'd been precariously balancing on since John's demise.

"Dean, just sit there, I'll …."

"I heard him, Joshua. I heard Sam…"

"You … he … what'd he say?"

"He said he was sorry. Then he screamed."

Yes, Dean Winchester had definitely lost what little marbles he had left if he was laughing at his brother's torment.

"Hold on son, I'll get …"

"Don't you see Joshua? He's alive! If he can scream it means he's alive."

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Dr. Murdoch stood at the open door of the room that held Sam Winchester captive. Two guards flanked him, though they were a bit back from the doctor himself, who stood direct center of the entry way staring at a very unconscious Sam. Both guards, however, backed up a step when Allen approached. Dr. Murdoch might have been the boss, but Allen was definitely a man to be reckoned with.

"Doc…."

Allen came to stand beside the doctor, their shoulders nearly touching though Allen had a good six inches on the elder man. Nearly as tall as Sam Winchester himself, Allen made a formidable enemy to any that dared cross him. Though it wasn't just his size … it was his disposition. He held very little conscious. He did what it took to get a job done, no matter what it took. Dislocating their captive's shoulder while he spoke to his brother had been one of those tasks. He didn't care that it caused pain, in fact, he got off on it. Sam's screams had caused him to smile; something he didn't do very often these days.

"Look at him Allen…"

"You have him right where you want him, Sir."

Doctor Murdoch turned to look at the man who was almost like a son, and smiled.

"Yes, I do … and I must say I'm quite impressed."

A blonde brow arched on the Neanderthal that seemed to take pleasure in causing Sam's pain.

"Impressed?"

"Yes, Allen. He hasn't backed down, not once. And you have to admit, you've put quite a beating to him."

One side of his lip curled, giving his mouth a lopsided look. Yes, he had put quite the hurting on their captive. It made Allen feel powerful to know that he could make or break the man lying there with but mere blink … or so he thought.

"So when is your plan going to be fulfilled?"

"As soon as Dean gets here."

"And what if he doesn't come?"

"Oh he'll come. This one … this brother of his, he's important to him. Just as important as Clara was to me."

Allen glanced to the doctor, knowing the facts that instilled this whole operation. But the whys, to Allen, didn't matter. He just enjoyed the here and now … the times he got to show Sam Winchester just who his God was.

"When?"

"When I've decided he's been tormented enough and I lead him to me."

Allen nodded once then glanced back to Sam; who it appeared was beginning to stir. Clenching his fists, he tightened his jaw, making the doctor chuckle and pat his arm.

"Oh don't fret Allen; you'll get to kill him … eventually. But for now, we play by my rules. Now come on, let's have some fun."

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Sam could hear his brother as soon as he entered the school. Even from behind closed doors in the principal's office, he could hear Dean's voice rising out in a tone that made Sam look down to his lap.

At that moment he would have rather faced a thousand John Winchester's than one pissed off brother.

"What do you mean, he's been suspended?"

"We asked for his father to come down here, now where is …"

"Business, he's away on business. Now we can either quabble over why he isn't here, or skip the foreplay and get down to business."

Sam could all but hear the principal's eyes widening at the crassness that was his brother. Sinking down further in his seat, he silently prayed that a huge crater from space would land on him in that moment.

Never was that his luck, he was a Winchester, after all.

"Sir if you'll just…"

"Let me see my brother. I'm telling you, my geeky brother couldn't have…"

"Mister Winchester, he beat up three members of the football team, gave a concussion to one of the band members, and threatened to 'salt and burn' the Football coach. Now if that isn't cause for…"

Dean couldn't help it, he cracked a smile at the last one.

"Sammy really said that?"

"I seriously doubt this is a laughing matter! Now, if you'd like to see Samuel…"

"It's Sam, he hates being called Samuel…"

Sam, by that time, had sank so far down in his seat that it was a wonder he didn't just pool off the edge onto the floor. When the door opened, he dared to peek up at a very pissed off older brother.

"Uh … hi Dean."

"Hi Dean? You beat up half the school and it's hi Dean?"

"Well, sir, technically it wasn't half …"

"Shut up lady, I wasn't talking to you!"

Sam peeked up, eyeing the exasperated principal and his angry brother and sighed before slowly climbing to his feet and grabbing his backpack. The principal's voice telling Dean that Sam couldn't return to school for a week was barely heard as he shuffled out and plopped down into the Impala, waiting for his impending doom.

They were halfway home before Dean had simmered down enough to speak, his anger, however, still evident by the way his words came out slow and calculated.

"So … wanna tell me what that was all about, Sam?"

"Not really."

"Okay, fine, then you can explain it to dad right after he gets home."

Sam peeked up from his perusal of his book bag to eye Dean in a sideways glance.

"I um … beat up four guys and threatened a teacher."

"I kind of figured that part out, Sam!!"

"I just um … got mad?"

Dean gave Sam the look. The same one his father gave him on many occasions, but to sixteen year old Sam Winchester, that look held so much more weight coming from his heroic older brother.

"They were … picking on me."

"Oh like that hasn't happened before!"

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You're a geek Sam; of course they pick on you! Hell, I pick on you every chance I get. And they were what? The football team? Not as cool as your older brother mind you, but to the school…"

"They said dad was a drunk!! That mom didn't really die, that she left him. And that's why …"

He frowned and looked down to the hole in the knee of his jeans. It might have been fashionable, but it was highly unintentional. Sam's hole was caused by wear, nothing more.

"Why … what?"

………….

"Sam?"

"They said dad was drunk and crazy and so I … hit them. Then the teacher threatened to call dad, said something about like father like son, so I threatened to salt and burn his ass…"

Dean quirked a smile and reached over to ruffle his kid brother's hair.

"Damn Sammy that's …"

"That's what?"

"That's … pretty awesome…"

"Dean M'sorra….."

The words were slurred and barely above a whisper, but the reaction was instantaneous as the laughter it caused filled the small room. Sam Winchester gasped and bolted upright, only to groan and flop back to the blankets that were, for all intents and purposes, his bed.

"No, I'm afraid not, Sam. There's no Dean here."

Despite the pain that pounded in his head, that made his shoulder and thigh both scream in agony, Sam peeked his eyes open enough to shoot the doctor a glare.

"Not yet…"

"Not ever. Didn't I tell you? Dean decided you weren't worth finding and left … on a hunt."

Sam said nothing, just stared as if he was in a contest with this mad man, and the first one to look away lost the game. Only, it wasn't a game. It was a pissing contest for Sam's life, his sanity.

"See Allen, I told you he was defiant."

"I can break him of that."

"Oh really?"

Allen nodded. And while Sam couldn't see the action, he could very well guess it was there. He almost flinched at their discussion, but he refused to pull his venomous glare from the man with the glasses.

Doctor Murdoch met Sam's gaze unaffected, though he did look most amused. He liked the fight he saw in the youngest Winchester. So much so that he almost hated to lose it. Almost.

"Now that, Allen, I would enjoy seeing."

His gaze jerked away only as he felt the arm on his to pull roughly and cause a yell as his dislocated then relocated shoulder didn't like the strain of Allen's jerking hands.

"So, you want to play boy?"

Pain mixed in his eyes, making them appear brilliantly green … and defiant. His gaze had turned from the doctor to the goon, it unwavering despite the intense throb that bloomed through his injured shoulder.

"Oh, I see that you do."

And with a jerk of Allen's wrist, Sam stumbled, the two steps he managed to take ended in a deep cry as it felt like his thigh was on fire from the spot where the bullet had once imbedded in his flesh.

Stumbling, he caught his fall with his hands, managing to save his nose another blow by mere inches.

"Bastard…."

It was hissed between clenched teeth, even as sweat riddled his brow. Sam was a Winchester, and as such surrender was not an option.

"I do believe he likes it rough doc…"

Laughter. It echoed throughout the room he was growing to despise as a sharp explosion hit his back in way of Allen's boot as it crashed down between his shoulder blades, sending Sam to the floor.

"Remember, you asked for this…"

The putrid breath of his captor was drowned out as pain exploded in his wrist; Allen's other boot crashing down on his arm causing a snap that was definitely felt, though hardly heard. The sound was nothing compared to the scream that echoed from Sam Winchester.

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Thanks so much to Carikube for pointing me to H.T. Marie's profile on how to load my chapter!! And thanks to H.T. Marie for posting that!! Without you two I would still be sitting here … cursing … and muttering … and plotting to kidnap Sam and Dean!!! Well, okay, the last isn't so bad.

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