Coercion

Coffeemaniac

Rated T for violence, language and suggestive situations. Possible trigger warning but probably nothing to worry about. No slash.

Reviews are welcome. Feed the writer.

Season 3: Dean is scheduled for hell. Sam's powers haven't developed.

Setting: Ranch Head, Wyoming (near the center of the Devil's Gate built by Samuel Colt)

Part 3

Sam strode around Ava, careful to keep his distance and glad to be outside. He pushed through the screen door, down the two steps and out into the yard. He inhaled the pine scent of the giant trees surrounding the small house, taking long breaths to clear his head. Beneath a shorn tree lay a pile of branches and near that, a stump and a narrow axe.

Eddie pointed towards the project.

"We need that broken up for the fireplace and the wood stove."

"How much?" Sam said. He chopped wood once when he was a teenager in Seattle and Bobby had assigned him the chore of chopping wood a few times over the years, and he enjoyed the rhythm of it.

"We don't need heat on the main floor," Eddie said. "It's all hooked up through the utilities. But, that little girl in the cellar does. Temps are dropping pretty fast around here. The wood stove down there could make a big difference to her."

"Okay," Sam said.

"Come here," Eddie said.

Sam drew closer and Ava crouched in front of him. She snapped a manacle around his ankle. Sam winced. The metal rubbed against his raw skin. Visually, he followed the chain to where it was secured around a post in the ground. Like a leash, for a dog, he thought.

"I know you want to kill us with that axe, don't you? But, you're not even going to try." Ava said.

"Hey," Eddie said to Ava. "Knock it off."

Sam wondered at Eddie's order. It wasn't like him to chastise her.

Ava pouted as she slid into a lawn chair. She slowly crossed her long legs then pushed brown hair off her shoulders. Eddie plunked down next to her. Neither of them held weapons and Sam was sure he could take their heads if they were sitting a few feet closer. He measured the distance in his head and guessed he could throw the axe and take one of them but he wouldn't get them both, and then he wouldn't have an axe to break the chain off his leg.

He picked up a thick chunk of wood and set it on the stump. He drew back and slammed the axe down chopping it in half. He knocked one half off and set the other in place. He swung again, splitting it. He tossed the two pieces. He spent a long time repeating those same actions. His back ached, his arms and legs shook with fatigue. The lack of food and water combined with the chopping made him weak and unsteady. A part of his brain ordered him to stop but another part refused. If he didn't complete the task they wouldn't warm Kristen's cage. He coaxed more effort out of his weakening body.

The sun grew brighter and sweat poured off of him despite the chill in the air. He glanced at the stack of timber still waiting to be split. Another hour and he'd have it done. Taking deep breaths he tried to gain control, thought he managed it until his legs collapsed. He grunted in surprise as he dropped to his knees, the axe slipped from his fingers and clunked on the ground.

Leaning back, he turned his face towards the sky but his eyes were closed.

He hissed, jerking forward when Eddie kicked him in the side.

"Who told you to stop?" Eddie said.

Sam barely heard him through the ringing in his ears.

"Give him water. Thirty minutes rest." Sam turned towards the direction of Duke's voice.

He stayed on the ground, still kneeling, his arm wrapped around his throbbing side

"He can do better. He's lazy," Eddie said.

"He has limits, Eddie," Duke said. "Even I can see he's dehydrated. Did you feed him this morning?"

Eddie shrugged.

"We're not supposed to be killing him," Duke said. "I picked up some supplies on my way over so grab him a sandwich and some water."

"He's living off me. He can get his own stuff," Eddie said.

"Don't be an ass. You're getting paid."

Sam looked up at Duke who was looking down on him with disgust. Duke had made it clear that Sam was about as significant as larvae in his world.

Duke grabbed Sam by the back of his navy t-shirt. The v neck kept him from being strangled as the sheriff dragged him to the bottom of the tree and deposited him at the base beside the chain that held him there. Sam landed hard. Anger pushed against the pain and he lunged upward but Duke easily shoved him back down.

"I thought you were tough," Duke said. "At least I know I picked the right brother."

"You can't keep us here forever," Sam said, frustration biting outward. "Me, Dean, that poor girl in the basement, you can't keep us forever."

But, he wondered. Maybe they could keep him. With no hope of escape, maybe they could hold him. Eventually, Dean would grow tired of being blackmailed and would leave without him.

Sam heard the screen door slam then Eddie dropped two bottles of water on the ground in front of him. A paper plate with a sandwich fell beside it.

"Half an hour. A real lunch break," Duke said.

"Then finish chopping," Eddie said. "When you're done out here the front porch trim needs repainting."

Duke turned away from Sam to address Ava.

"Give him another sandwich later. Keep him hydrated. I'm bringing Dean here tomorrow and I don't want him looking like he's near death."

"Where are you going?" Ava said.

Sam listened to their conversation with intent. Excitement built inside him at the news that he would see Dean. He needed to tell him about Kristen, and he really wanted to see his brother.

"We got a black dog problem. They're some kind of invisible monster. Dean thinks he knows where they nest." Duke said.

"Can't you stay with Eddie and babysit for a while?" Ava said. "I want to go into town. See people. Maybe do some shopping."

"Not today. I need you to stay here. Besides it's dangerous right now. Just be careful until we get this new problem settled."

"I'm bored." Ava complained.

"Dean is working on a protection spell. Once he's done with that, it'll dispel any monsters that are here and keep new ones from coming."

Sam doubted that. They might be able to use wards or a spell to return Ranch Head to normal. But, that would still leave them as susceptible as anyplace else to supernatural threats. If a spell existed to ward against everything, he and Dean would be out of a job.

Sam opened one of the waters, determined not to draw attention to himself. He needed the fluid but he didn't want to get caught up in their internal issues.

"I'm not asking for a weekend. Just a few hours," Ava said.

Duke glared at her then stalked towards the house without speaking. Eddie followed him.

When the kitchen door clattered shut, Ava pushed off the lawn chair. She sauntered over to Sam then sank easily on to the ground in front of him. She pushed her hair away from her face and cocked her head.

"Duke can be a jerk," she said.

Sam stayed quiet.

"You're no fun," she said. "But, your lips on that bottle are giving me ideas."

Sam drained the water. He picked up the sandwich, his stomach growling and his mouth salivating. It was the first food he'd had, other than corn flakes, in too long. Ava's presence made the turkey and cheese taste wrong but he didn't stop eating.

Ava scooted closer to him. She put her hands on his knees, grinning when he jerked away from her. She lifted the chain near where the manacle closed around his ankle. She gave a short yank that crashed into his bruised, scraped skin. Sam grunted softly.

She jerked on the chain again and the pain hit him sharp and fast. Sam drew back, cupping his hand and shoving it into the side of her face. He had been careful not to hit her full strength. He could easily have crushed her cheek bone or broken her nose if he wanted to. She tipped over, with a shocked gasp. He stood up, surprised he had hit her.

Trembling with adrenaline, he watched her drag herself to her feet with her hand covering her reddened skin. Pained tears shimmered in her eyes.

Duke loomed up behind Ava, the menace of him swept through the air. He grabbed her shoulders in his two great hands and moved her to the side.

Duke grabbed Sam next. Sam seized his shirt in both hands but the Sheriff possessed all the momentum. He slammed Sam into the tree and shock reverberated through his body sending a black mist across his vision. Duke dropped him and Sam grunted as he worked to keep standing.

"You bastard," Ava said from over Duke's shoulder.

Duke whirled on her. "I told you to let him eat. I told you to leave him alone."

"I was just talking to him. And he hit me."

"Just keep her away from me," Sam said.

"You don't make demands, Sam," Duke said. "You try anything like that again and the next time we go after a monster, maybe Dean won't have back up. Maybe he'll get caught in the crossfire. Do you understand me?"

Sam held his breath, pushing back the retort clawing up his throat. He nodded.

Eddie stomped across the yard, pushing in from behind Duke. His eyes were narrowed, with a glare split across his lips.

"I'm going to kill you," he shouted at Sam.

Duke pushed him back.

"No, you're not," he said. "You're going to leave him alone. He'll finish the wood and he'll clean up the trim on the porch and you will not lay one hand on him. Do you understand me?"

"He hit my wife."

"And after Dean leaves tomorrow, you can get even. But, not before. Understand?"

Eddie's eyes glinted at the sheriff's words. A thin smile spread across his face. Eddie lurched at him again but Duke pushed him back.

"Do what you want but not until after Dean gets his visit. I'll be back tomorrow," Duke said.

Sam exhaled softly. Dread clawed at him as he slowly walked over to the rogue water bottle. Carefully moving around the chain on his leg, he picked up the bottle and drained it, the liquid cool against his dry throat.

By late afternoon, Sam stood on a short ladder. His body ached. He barely remembered a time when he wasn't beaten or bruised so he had learned to deal with pain, had learned to compartmentalize it in order to keep functioning.

But, that didn't make it pleasant.

Eddie walked across the creaky porch. He stopped next to the ladder and looked up with his hands on his hips. Sam looked down at him wondering if he could take Eddie's head off with the paint scraper.

"Get down. You're done for the day."

Sam stepped down carefully. As his feet landed, he amused himself with the knowledge that he was still looking down at Eddie.

"Get in there. Take a shower," Eddie said. "Duke wants you cleaned up for tomorrow."

Eddie nodded towards the front door.

Sam pointed at the chain on his ankle. He was still attached to the porch railing. Eddie smirked but he released him then shoved him roughly towards the door. Sam stumbled but he regained his footing as he passed over the threshold.

Eddie followed him down the hall to the bathroom.

"Here's the deal," Eddie said. "You shower, change your clothes and come back out here without any trouble. You get all excited and try anything, it won't end well, understand?"

"Okay," Sam said. He was tired; of being threatened, of being used, of being abused.

Eddie chuckled. "Still think you're tough, huh? Hurry up."

Standing straighter, he stalked into the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, Sam leaned against it, giving himself a moment. Dizziness flooded his brain and he squeezed his fists, trying to push it away. When the moment passed, he opened his eyes and noticed a stack of clothes on the sink. Slowly walking across the tiled floor, he stopped and shuffled through them finding light, cotton bottoms and a t-shirt.

"Pajamas," he said.

After a week in the same clothes, he felt a touch of gratitude start to invade. Anger followed instantly knowing he owed them nothing. Providing relief after letting him stew in his own filth didn't earn his captors anything.

He looked in the mirror. A pale, bruised face looked back. Dark circles cut deep beneath his eyes. He sighed, touching the puffy skin. He winced, turning his head back and forth to examine the rest of the damage. He assured himself that it was nothing that wouldn't heal.

On the counter opposite from the clothing, he found bandages, gauze, antibiotic cream and a bottle of prescription penicillin. He didn't relish the idea of kneeling or bending to treat his abraded ankles but he supposed it was better than getting an infection. The night before he'd noticed some swelling under the skin and knew something bad was building there, so cleaning and covering the wounds needed to happen.

Steadying himself, he carefully peeled off the beaten t-shirt then moved over to the shower and turned it on. A spark started inside him at the sound and the warmth. Sprinkles of goosebumps covered his skin. He carefully settled on to the closed toilet seat then pulled of his boots. He moved slowly at first but the pain grew with each movement so he hurried the process, preferring to get it over with.

Getting out of his jeans was easier. Sam had lost enough weight to let them slide off his hips then he followed that up with his black briefs.

Standing up, he stepped into the hot water. The spray pummeled his skin at first but within moments, he sighed, relief washing over him. He needed this, needed the heat and the quiet and feel of it. A bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo sat on a small shelf. He started with his hair. The aroma of citrus and spice filled his senses and he took his time, feeling like he needed to scrub deep to get rid of the oil and dirt that he'd been living with. Next he used the soap to clean the rest of his body, going slow and being thorough. With zero idea of when he might get to wash again, he decided to savor the time.

Sam grimaced at the sting as water and soap streamed over his ankles. His chafed and grated skin prickled under the onslaught but he forced himself to stay still. He gathered his courage first then lathered up his hands and set one foot on the edge of the tub. He scrubbed the open wound, holding his breath against the pain. Wanting to ignore the other leg, he knew he couldn't, so he attacked that one next. It wasn't as bad as the first one but he was glad when it was over.

Standing back up, Sam leaned against the wall of the shower and let the water wash over him. He remained that way until the heat started to cool and knew it was time to get out. Eddie had remained quiet, not rushing him and Sam appreciated it.

As he caught himself feeling gratitude again, he cursed.

"Stockholm Syndrome, my ass," he said. "I'm killing everybody before this is over."

Sam dried off, dressed his wounds and put on the new clothes. The soft cotton felt good against his skin but having bare feet made him uncomfortable. Looking towards the floor, he knew he needed to do something with his old things but seeing them puddled there, dirty, smelly and battered, he didn't know what that should be.

Sudden pounding on the bathroom door startled him.

"What," he barked.

"Hurry up in there," Eddie said.

Sam hated the idea of opening the door. He didn't want to face Eddie or the kitchen floor or the unending threat of harm to him or Kristen. The bathroom was warm and comfortable and he wanted to stay there.

Eddie pounded again.

"Okay, okay," Sam said.

Forcing himself to move, he pulled the door open.

"Look at you, all fresh and pretty. Come on, there's food."

Sam glanced down at himself. He was wearing the new pajamas. His hair was wet hair and his feet were bare. A shiver of discomfort trembled through him.

Feeling useless, frozen by the potential risk, he followed Eddie into the kitchen. Ava was sitting at the dining room table.

"Sit down," she said.

"What is this?" Sam said as pulled a chair out. The aroma of fried hamburgers filled the kitchen. A green salad sat in a clear bowl. He could see red tomatoes and cucumbers mixed in. His stomach rumbled with hunger. The sandwich from the afternoon had barely touched the hunger he'd been living with.

"Normal meal," Ava said. "You sit at the table, eat meat and veggies. I cooked."

"Bring Kristen up here. Give her the meal," Sam said.

"Well, I'd do that for you, Sam, but I think it would make you do something stupid," Eddie said. "Right now, you can't get her out and you know what'll happen when you try and fail. But, if she was sitting here, you'd think you could do it and then we'd have to swat you down."

"You seem to think we're not taking care of that girl," Ava said. "We've been feeding her, three good meals every day. We gave her a cot, gave her a tablet with a bunch of movies downloaded. I delivered twenty or so books to her from my own bookshelf. She's getting better than you, Sam. The only time she suffers is when you disobey. And when this is all over, when your brother figures out how to block this town from monsters, well, then Kristen will go home to her family."

"She's a prisoner. She's stuck in a cage so don't try to make it sound like Club Med," Sam said. He waved his arm around the kitchen. "What's the point of all this?"

"Relax," Ava said.

She stood up and sauntered over to the stove. She scooped hamburgers dripping with melted cheese out of the pan and set them on a plate. Carrying them plus the bowl of salad, she set the items down on the table. Eddie delivered a plate with lettuce leaves and tomato as well as a bag of hamburger buns. He settled into the chair beside his wife.

"Your brother loves cheeseburgers," Ava said. "Duke eats with him almost every night."

Sam hated her words, hated the idea that Dean would socialize with their captors. He didn't believe it, except part of him did, and he hated that too.

"Dean is comfortable working for us," she said. "But, he still needs to see a healthy little brother tomorrow."

The aroma of the food overpowered Sam's retort. He thought about attacking Eddie first then taking Ava down. Even weakened, he might be able to do it. After they were dead, he could head down to the cellar, find a blowtorch or a hacksaw and get Kristen out of the cage. If it all worked out and he managed to do it fast enough, they could be on the main road and hitching towards town. But, a call to Davis might get missed. Or something might go wrong and slow Sam down. If he failed to get to Kristen, what would happen to her? What would happen to Dean?