Story: What if Mary hadn't been able to get into the house to try and rescue her boys? How far was Toni Bevel willing to go to break Sam? And now that she has Dean too, how far can she go before it's too far.

Rating: Story is rated a Strong T for violence.

Note: If you've seen those two episodes in Season 12, then you know that it could have gone very badly for the Winchesters.

Chapter 1: The Basement

Sam Winchester felt himself returning to consciousness. He hated to be knocked out cold. Although this time it had been due to anesthesia instead of a blow to the head. Things were still hazy as he tried to place where he was and how he'd gotten there. The sudden jolt of electricity coursing through his abdomen jarred him into full awareness.

He couldn't stop the sharp grunt of shock and pain as he pulled against his restraints. Breathing heavily, he looked through the fringe of hair in front of his eyes and saw a woman holding a cattle prod. She wore all black with her red hair pulled back into a crisp bun; not a hair out of place.

"Be a good boy." She directed softly. Her voice was a stark contrast to the pain she'd just inflicted.

He allowed his body to sink further into the hard-wooden chair. The dank smell of the old basement sent his stomach rolling. The constant ache in his left leg reminded him that that bitch had shot him. He'd thought that dealing with Dean's death would be bad enough but tack onto that the fact that he was now a prisoner and he had no idea where Castiel was; it just sucked. His shoulders ached from the forced position of his hands behind his back, the cold steel of the handcuffs a sharp reminded of his precarious situation.

Intense irritation boiled underneath all of the emotional drama, he couldn't believe that he was in this position, again. He'd been captured and now he was going to be what? Tortured? It wasn't that he didn't know what that meant, the opposite in fact was true. With the sole exception of his brother, Sam understood torture on a level that no person should. The thought of Dean sent waves of emptiness and loss slipping along his very soul. His brother had saved the whole world by giving up his life in order to take out the darkness and save the sun.

Why is it always on us to save the damn world…he considered the options and realized that they simply didn't trust anyone else to do it. Most people couldn't comprehend the sacrifice that would be needed, so it always seemed to fall on the Winchesters.

Sam had no idea what any of that stuff actually meant other than he had lost the only person that had ever been solely in his corner. Dean had been the one stable constant in his life. Tears burned along the back side of his eyes and he could feel the start of a headache. Boards squeaked overhead as the British woman that had shot him walked around. Years of training kicked in and he immediately recognized that there were two sets of feet moving around.

Great, so you're not alone. Grinding his teeth together, he shifted uncomfortably. The moisture on the floor was seeping into his bare feet. He had no idea why they'd removed his shoes and he was pretty sure it wasn't going to be pleasant. His eyes pulled downward, and he sighed when he saw an old rusted drain between his feet. Swallowing the sudden dryness in his throat he pulled at his bound hands. No dice, whoever had tied him up had known how to do it.

The door at the top of the old stairs squeaked as it opened. The woman from the bunker slowly descended the stairs. She looked like some ivy league prima donna, all kakis and blazer jackets. Stepping up behind her was the red head that gave off the same vibe that Dean did; this woman was a killer. But the one that had blasted Cas away, she was more like Sam. Smart, educated and willing to cross the line when she had to. This wasn't a great combination of people to be holding him.

"You." Struggling against the handcuffs, he managed to shift his chair a bit.

She shook her head, a disappointed smile on her face as she moved to sit in the chair directly across from him. "Now, Sam let's begin." She picked up a notebook and uncapped a pen. Like this was going to be some sort of personal interview and he was not chained to a chair with a bullet hole in his leg and a whole lot of questions.

"Toni Bevel, London Chapter House." Sam said calmly.

She continued to write, without looking up, "That's right."

Sam struggled to put together what he knew. "So you're English men of letters—"

"British." She corrected.

He really wanted to ask her if that really mattered. Apparently, the distinction mattered to her. Sam rolled his head up and exhaled in irritation. His eyes shifted around the basement. "Where are we?"

Toni glanced at her compatriot. "Does it matter?"

Yeah, for him it mattered. "Just wondering how far I'm going to have to walk back to town once I kill you." His eyes slid sideways. "And her." He redirected his attention back to Toni. "But you first."

"Yes, well before you murder us all. We do have a few questions."

He wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that. So, he kept it simple. "About what?"

"About you. About your brother and how you saved the sun."

Sam wanted to laugh, but nothing about his situation was funny. He had no intention of answering this woman's questions. "You shot me. Kidnap me. Yeah, happy to help." He responded. The sarcasm was nearly dripping off his words.

She stared at him for a moment. "I didn't want to hurt you Sam, you gave me no choice."

He scoffed and she continued.

"While I could say it was never supposed to go this way, but you're…you. It was always going to be this way." It was so matter of fact. Like he was some animal that couldn't be reasoned with. That unfair assessment just increased his irritation factor.

Shaking his head, "And you know me?"

"We do. We've been watching you and your brother for years. Ever since you almost ended the world the first time. We know all about Lucifer. Angels falling—"

"Then where were you?" Sam interrupted sharply.

She smiled. "Fair question. See, some us wanted to get involved, but the old men wouldn't allow it. Thought we were overstepping our bounds. After all this business with the darkness, even they have to agree, things need to change." She leaned forward in her chair, "And while you may not believe this Sam. We're here to help."

He made noise deep in his throat of disbelief. He sure as hell did not believe they were here to help. The fact that he was trussed up like a turkey was evidence enough that they weren't here to help him. A tiny part of him rose up and reminded him that there was no one coming to rescue him. His brother was dead. Cas was gone. And he was totally alone. For the briefest moment he wondered if fighting this was even worth it?

But years of fighting wasn't something that he could just turn off. "Yeah, no I can tell." He quipped with a light smile.

"I apologize for locking you up. You're dangerous."

He struggled against the iron shackles around his ankles as she spoke.

She continued. "To others and yourself. But if you answer my questions, you'll walk right out that door. I promise"

Sam considered her offer for about half a second. His eyes shifting to the silent woman looming above him and the one seated across from him. He didn't believe a single word she'd just said. "Pass." He said softly.

"Sam—" Toni started to ask him to reconsider, but he kept going.

"You can ask me any kind of question you want. But the answer is going to be the exact same." His anger settled into place and drew upon it as he said. "Screw you."

Her frustration at his answer was clearly evident as she lifted her head and nodded once. There was a look of supreme irritation on her perfect face.

"You wanna get mad? You wanna get to me? I've been tortured by the devil himself. So, you? You're just an accent in a pant suit. What can you do to me?" He allowed a self-assured smile to sit on his lips as he watched her recap her pen and close her notebook.

She didn't say anything. Toni looked over at her enforcer and nodded once.

Sam looked over at the other woman. She reached into the dirty wash tub and turned on the water. His eyes followed the green garden hose that run up the wall and along the old conduit above his head. Inside of the old housing of a light was a sprinkler. Round, like the ones people buy to water their lawn and it was tied directly above his head.

The first drops of cold water rained down over him and he couldn't stop the nervous laugh. "A cold shower? That's your play?" He shook his hair out of his eyes and spit water out as he was slowly soaked. It didn't take very long before he was shivering and supremely irritated with his situation. The water was icy, and it penetrated everything he had on within moments. Rivulets were running down his face, dripping off his chin onto his chest. But what was really pissing him off was that these two bitches were standing there watching him with knowing looks on their faces.

His breathing increased as the anger rose up. Sam shook his head again, forcing his hair out of his eyes. "Screw you." He bit out.

They watched for a few more moments before turning toward the stairs and leaving him alone under the spray of frigid water. He had no idea how long he sat there. He couldn't feel his feet anymore and his shoulders were starting to tingle. The bandage around his thigh was sopping wet and his wound pulsed painfully. He found he was uncomfortable enough that he couldn't focus on anything but his misery.

Sometime later…

The water slowed to a trickle and then stopped altogether. Sam bit his teeth together to keep them from chattering. He felt like a drowned cat. Toni had come back some time ago. She had retaken her seat across from him and watched his suffering with a blank expression. He couldn't stop the panting breaths as he struggled to breathe through the contractions of his muscles. Sam was lean most of the time, but the last year had been hard on him and he had lost weight in the past few weeks. His jeans and cotton t-shirt ensured that he couldn't find any bit of warmth.

Toni stood up, "Help me understand."

He couldn't have given her what she wanted at that point. He was far too angry and the stubborn streak that he'd once accused their father of having was ingrained too deeply. "Screw you." He muttered through chattering teeth.

"What you imagine is happening here?" She paused. "Do you think you're being brave? That you're the hero of this story? Wow, you're no hero, Sam. You're just bad at your job."

"Yeah, and you're better?" he accused.

She looked offended. "So much better."

She kept talking and he tuned out most of what she was saying. Something about hunters driving backroads and killing monsters after they've already killed someone. She rambled on about how the British hadn't had a monster-related death since the 1960's.

Must be nice. He thought blandly. She wanted the names of the other hunters that he knew. Why? So, she could snatch them up and torture them too? No way in hell. Eventually she got the end of her monolog and stared at him expectantly.

"…Maybe you tie them to a chair? Maybe you do worse. So, maybe…you can go to hell."

He was pretty proud of himself as he sat there staring at the irritation on her face.

But she didn't take the bait. Instead she backed away and turned toward the redhead. "Have it your way." Another nod, and then she started toward the stairs.

The redhead picked up a blowtorch, lighting it without so much as a word. Somewhere in the back of Sam's head he could almost hear Dean screaming. Give them what they want Sammy! Stay alive, and whole. Get the hell outta there and then track them down and make them pay.

His heart clenched because he knew it wasn't Dean. Dean was dead. He didn't really care what happened to him now. His brother was gone, and life just wasn't worth living. He supposed if he had to endure some pain before they killed him, so be it.

She walked toward him. "Are you really going to make me do this?" Her voice wasn't as posh as her bosses. She was obviously from a lower class of society than Toni was. But that made her so much more dangerous.

Sam knew it was going to be bad. He'd been burned alive before and he knew the pain of what was coming, but he couldn't say no. "Screw you." He swallowed the fear writhing inside him like a snake and waited.

Shifted to his right side she knelt down and lowered the torch. He could feel the intense heat almost immediately. He tried to curl his foot away from the blue flame, but there was nowhere for him to go. The iron cuff kept him firmly in place. Slowly she lowered the torch toward the bone of his ankle and applied flame to skin.

The sizzling of his own flesh sent waves of nausea through Sam as she moved the flame toward the small toe. He tried not to scream, swore he wouldn't, but when that bitch laid into his flesh, Sam couldn't stop the bellow of agony that roared through him. White hot fire raced along his nerves and reminded him what it was to be tortured.

When she started a second line of burned flesh Sam's body finally gave out and he dropped into blissful unconsciousness.

XXXX

The moment Dean Winchester had realized that his brother wasn't in the bunker, a bolt of fear went rocketing through him. He'd been so excited to introduce their mother to the man her youngest son had become. But those pools of blood and the sigil on the wall had doused him with reality. Something had happened to Sammy. And by the looks of it, Cas too. Now he was sitting in the Impala driving toward some ranch house in the middle of nowhere.

Castiel had found that much out, but he couldn't determine anything further. Guilt poured through him as he drove. Dean had been having a sentimental moment with their mother while something bad had been happening to Sam. The countryside blazed past in a blur of green and brown. Mary was sitting in the passenger seat staring out the other window. She was quiet and Dean didn't what to make of that.

Being reunited with the mother he'd lost thirty-three years ago hadn't been anything like what he'd thought it would be. Mary wasn't the person he remembered from his childhood. This Mary was every bit the killer he was. She didn't make casseroles or pie. But she could pull apart a pistol in less than twenty seconds and she knew everything about monsters and demons.

The angel sat silently in the backseat. Dean couldn't ignore the fact that none of them knew what to say each other. His green eyes slipped sideways for a moment before he pulled them back to the road.

"I'm fine Dean."

He didn't believe it any more than she did. But he chose not to call her on it. They could figure all of this out later, right now they had to find Sam.

XXXX

Sam awoke to find his wounds treated and free from that damn chair. He reached down and pressed hands against the stark white bandage on his right foot. At least he might avoid dying of an infection. Sitting up he looked around and realized that he was alone. Slowly he climbed to his feet. Ignoring the pain in both his leg and his foot and he limped toward the cellar door. Grabbing it he rattled it and groaned when it proved to chained from the outside. He assumed that it would be, but he'd hoped that maybe he'd caught a break.

Smoke seamed to coalesce directly in front of him. Sam's heart stopped when he saw a scene from seven years ago. Stull Cemetery, Dean beaten to a bloody, disfigured pulp leaning against the Impala. His expression one of devastation as he tried, unsuccessfully, to protect himself from the unyielding blows of his brother. Sam felt him fists slam into Dean as he begged Sam to stop, to fight for control.

Stumbling backwards, he grasped at his head as pain spiked through it. His mind hadn't been his own often enough that Sam knew that he was being manipulated by something supernatural in nature. But that wasn't enough to stop his mind from dredging up his worst mistakes. He jerked to a halt when the scene from Indiana clarified before him. He watched as the Hell Hounds tore into Dean's flesh. The screams of pain from his brother had haunted his dreams for ten years pounded into him and he was helpless against them.

It shifted again and Sam was forced to witness his brother's death at the hands of Metatron and then Jessica burning on the ceiling of their apartment in Palo Alto. He staggered against the sink before slamming his knuckles into the mirror. The glass shattered and he plucked out a piece. Swallowing, he positioned himself in a way the ensured the camera on the wall only had a partial view of what he was about to do. Shoving down the pain of what was happening in front of his eyes, he dragged the edge of the glass over his palm and spun before dropping to the concrete.

He didn't have to lay there for long before he heard the door open and the slow descent of shoes on the stairs; waiting for a few more moments before he twisted and grabbed the cattle prod. He surged to his feet and wrapped his long fingers around her throat, shoving her backward until she was up against the wall.

"Maybe you're not as good as you think you are." He said angrily.

She choked and spluttered before lashing out and slamming her knee into the bullet wound in his thigh. Sam grunted with the intensity of the pain, losing his grip on her, Toni spun out of his grip and rushed toward the stairs. She was just starting up them when he grabbed her leg and pulled her to her knees. Flipping over, she kicked out and caught him in the face. Spots blinked in front of his eyes for a second. Unfortunately, it turned out to be the critical second that she needed to scramble up the stairs ahead of him.

He was moving just as he heard the door slam shut and deadbolts slide home. "NO!" he screamed out as he collapsed on the stairs.

Sam had been so close. He felt his failure all the way to his bones. Slowly he repositioned himself and settled against the railing. He hurt everywhere. He'd had his mind messed with and his body burned and dragged through hell. Torture he could handle, but having his head screwed with wasn't something that he could easily bounce back from. He'd had Lucifer in there. That damn angel. Hallucinations brought on by his time in the cage…and the list went on and on.

He couldn't help reflecting on what he'd lost. Dean had been there for him every day of his life and now, he wasn't. The only exceptions were when one of them was dead, missing their soul or marked by something outside of their control. As much as he wanted to sleep, he couldn't relax enough to allow that. So he leaned against the wood rail and tried to ignore the tragedy that was his life.

XXXX

"I shouldn't be talking to you." Sam realized as he broke the spell Toni had cast on him. He could still feel her skin against his. The soft satin of her hair brushing over his naked chest. And everything else about her. He'd never been forced into doing something that he didn't want to, when it came to women and sex. But this was different. She'd fully invaded his mind and that had allowed her to use his body to control him. He wanted to vomit. He hadn't been in control and this wasn't that far off of rape. It had felt so real, too real.

Lifting his heavy head, he forced himself to look at her. "Was it good for you?" she asked with a knowing smile.

He couldn't even come up with a response. Sam had never been promiscuous. Dean hadn't minded spending his nights with random women, at least when he'd been younger, but Sam had never been like that. He'd only ever had one or two single encounters that had ended with one night together. The other women in his life had been because he was interested in something more long term. But Toni Bevel had forced him to give up something of himself that he kept for special moments. He felt dirty, unclean, and angry about.

She started in with the torture and he couldn't do more than just take it. At least this was something he was familiar with. He lost track of time as she pulled and sliced into him. It wasn't until she opened the door and pulled someone in beside her that he started paying attention again. "Screw you." He ground past clenched teeth.

And then she shoved someone in front of her.

Dean. He was handcuffed and stumbling somewhat as he moved just ahead of her. "You may be able to withstand me pulling you apart piece by piece, but can you watch me do it to Dean?"

Sam inhaled as he stared into the green eyes of his brother.

Reviews: If you have a moment, reviews are always nice.

Author's Note: What if Mary and Castiel hadn't gotten into the basement as quickly as they had? What would Toni have done to the brothers in order to try and break them? That thought occurred to me as I was re-watching season 12.