Stubborn Survival: Gleason's Revenge

By: Coffeemaniac

Set between 2006-2007. John Winchester has been dead a few months. It's been eight weeks since Sam was kidnapped by Mark Foster and Richard Gleason

Rated M for violence, torture, mentions of child abuse, and mentions of child sexual abuse. The violence and torture are fairly graphic, the other things are not.

Reviews are welcome and encouraged.

Part 10

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Breaching the Gleason compound had been surprisingly easy. The security cameras showed clear signs of being torn out. The entrance, previously gated and manned, was open. A few guards walked the property but there weren't enough of them to keep the whole place locked down and secure.

The three men had waited for one of the guards to wander by the entrance gate. Bobby called out to him, claiming a need for jumper cables. The guard had given him a surly answer just before Dean nabbed him and dragged him to the street.

Irv had threatened to start chopping off fingers before the middle-aged rent-a-cop told them that Sam was on the second floor of the main house.

Dean knocked him out with a hard punch that probably dislocated his jaw then they dumped him into the trunk of Irv's old Dodge.

They had spent the next hour crossing the compound and breaking into the kitchen entrance where Bobby choked out the cook and Dean walloped a guard. They locked both of them in a food pantry.

They had taken a back stairway from the kitchen to the second floor where Sam tumbled into view at the far end of the hall. Sam had yelled out when he hit the ground and then George Bentley looked up at Dean with deliberate malice, grabbed Sam by the head and slammed it hard into the floor. Sam had made a small, oomph noise before three shots rang out.

Dean had jumped to one side, startled by the sound. Then he saw Irv walking forward, gun out and eyes locked on Bentley.

The next several minutes had been some of the most frightening in Dean's life. First, making sure Sam was alive then having to talk his brother into being brave. Sam had always been the cautious brother but he was also the more headstrong. He generally followed Dean's orders, but, when it came to a battle, Sam never hesitated, never backed down, and never stopped pushing until something made him stop. Seeing him curled up on the floor, eyes wide with terror, his body shaking like a scared puppy had made Dean go cold inside.

Once he managed to convince Sam to leave the room, Dean kept one hand on his brother's back, gently propelling him forward. He didn't want Sam to panic and go back. He could feel him trembling, could hear his rapid breathing. But, he kept moving.

When they reached the "T" in the hall, Bobby suggested they split up.

"You take Sam and go out the kitchen, the way we came. That's the safest way. Irv and me will go down the main staircase and head for the exit. We can clear a path to the car."

"Bobby, we should stay together," Dean said.

"No, he's right," Irv said. "Sam needs a doctor. Can't risk him getting caught again."

"Then you two take him," Dean said. "I'll get AJ and her bunch to follow me."

"There's no use arguing, boy," Bobby said. "Sam ain't going with anyone but you. So, take him and go. We'll come back your way as soon as we get rid of anyone moving around outside."

"I left Sam behind the last time I was here, I'm not doing that to you."

"Don't be an idgit. Get going. Before it's not an option."

"Bobby," Dean said.

"Go. We'll be all right."

Irv gave a two fingered salute off his forehead before he and Bobby started down the right hall. Dean patted Sam on the back giving him a nudge before they started back towards the kitchen. Sam turned wide eyes back at him. Combined with his pasty complexion, he looked like a sick five year old.

They made it to the edge of the stairwell leading into the kitchen before Sam stopped like a donkey facing a cliff.

"We can't go down there," Sam said.

"Why not?"

"They're all waiting. Dean, they'll really hurt me this time."

"I'm right here. No one is going to hurt you."

"You can't stop her. She's more powerful than anything we've seen."

"She's a witch," Dean said. "A human who can do spells."

"No."

"Yes. We're going. Stay close to me and don't talk. We're going to be quiet and we're going to get out of here."

"You sound like Dad."

"Good. Now, stay close."

Sam took the staying close part seriously. Dean felt like his brother was practically in his pocket. The two of them crept cautiously down the stairs. Dean listened for anything that might indicate trouble from the kitchen area. Hearing was difficult because Sam was breathing so loudly but Dean did his best to focus around that.

He hadn't heard any commotion coming from Bobby and Irv's direction. No sounds of fighting or gunshots. If the older hunters had been discovered, it had happened quietly.

Just as they reached the bottom, Sam recoiled back a step and gasped.

Dean looked around but couldn't see anything that explained his reaction.

"What is it?"

"I can't go down there," Sam said, his voice a whisper.

"Why?" Dean stepped on to the floor and searched the area. He couldn't feel any cold spots or electricity in the air.

"No one's here," Dean said. "Come on so we can get out of here."

"She knows… all of her family's secrets. She doesn't think they did anything wrong."

"Brainwashed. Like that little Bender girl."

Sam shook his head. "No. I think she's just one of them."

Sam stalled in the stairwell. He stood leaning towards the wall, cradling his arm. His eyes darted back and forth through the kitchen.

Dean rolled his eyes. He started back to pull Sam along with him when the outside door crashed open. Sam crouched down, covering his head with one hand while Dean rushed at the man standing in the threshold.

Mark Foster fired off a shot before Dean tackled him, taking both of them out the door and rolling off the porch. Dean threw several hard punches into the bald man's face, satisfaction filling him when he felt the break of a cheekbone. Mark screamed and shoved wildly trying to dislodge his attacker but Dean was relentless. He pounded on the other man, targeting his face repeatedly. He knocked Mark out but didn't stop until finally reason caught up with him. Panting with adrenaline and spent energy, Dean pushed himself off Foster.

As the world came back into focus after the frenzied violence, he looked for Sam. Guessing that his brother was still on the stairs, Dean mounted the porch and went through the door. Sam was sitting on one step, rocking.

Dean used his jeans to wipe Foster's blood off his hands before crouching down.

"It's all right," he said.

"Is he dead? She won't like it if he is."

Dean scowled. "He's not dead. But, they know we're here. We have to get ready for more."

Sam shook his head. "She won't let us go."

"Just stay here."

Dean closed the kitchen door and moved the dining table in front of it. On the opposite side of the kitchen a door leading to the rest of the house stood. Heavy wood on a swinging hinge, it looked like their best chance for escape.

"Come on, Sammy, it's time to go."

A heavy bang sounded from the outside door. The kitchen table flew inward, skidding against the floor with a whine then landing on its side. A knife and vegetables flew across the kitchen as Dean darted to one side to avoid getting hit by anything. He turned to see a woman with long, brown hair and wearing a shapeless eyelet dress standing in the doorway. She lifted her hand towards Sam and Sam grunted, grabbing his middle and rolling on to his side. Dean fired his gun at her. Her other hand flew up and the bullet stopped in mid-air. It spun menacingly for a moment before it clattered harmlessly to the floor.

She looked back at Sam who was still rolling around the floor, making strangled moans. She jerked her hand and he screamed pulling himself up even smaller.

"Stop," Dean said, fighting the urge to charge at her. He stayed still, sorting through his need to help Sam and figuring out how to stop her.

She brought her hand down and Sam rolled over, panting.

"Who broke my spell?" AJ said.

"Tooth fairy," Dean said.

AJ pointed at Sam who lurched up in pain again. He started trying to get back up the stairs, crawling to escape her.

Dean fired again. This time he kept shooting until he emptied the clip. AJ glared at him as bullets clattered to the floor. She cocked her head, lifted her head and pointed towards Dean. He smiled and pointed at her.

"Got something on your dress," he said.

Confusion crossed her face as she looked down to see blood blossoming over the fabric. She looked back at Dean then at Sam who was breathing hard, but lying still and clutching his broken arm.

AJ collapsed to her knees. She let out a long, soft wail as she fell over. Dean could see the death in her but he couldn't bring himself to care. She may have been technically human but she chose to be a witch and she chose to be evil.

Dean knelt to check AJ's pulse when he heard a scrape on the floor. Just as he twisted, gun out, to see what it was, Mark Foster screamed and stopped only a foot from where Dean huddled. Dean didn't watch the bald man collapse. He watched Sam yank the kitchen knife out of Foster's body then look at it in surprise.

Sam slipped to his knees, the knife clutched in his good hand, while he awkwardly held his broken limb.

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Bobby walked into the kitchen from the interior entrance. With the upturned table blocking the door, he had to push to get it open enough to slide in. A bruise colored one side of his face and dried blood clung to his fingers. Irv followed behind him looking dirty but Dean didn't see any injuries.

"You two all right?" Dean said, nodding towards Bobby's hand.

"Yep. Couple employees of the year wanted to stop us but we locked them in the cellar round the other side of the house," Bobby said.

"We're secure," Irv said. "I think the last of the trouble is laying around in here. How's Sam doing?"

"He'll be all right," Dean said.

"It's safe through the main house. Cars aren't far. Can he walk?" Bobby said.

Dean glanced back at Sam. He was still kneeling but he'd started to rock a little. Dean looked at Bobby feeling helpless.

"Let's get Sam to a hospital," Bobby said. "Need to get that arm set."

"Probably should take a look at your hand too," Irv said.

"Hand's fine," Bobby said. "A little disinfect, a couple stitches. Can do it myself."

"I'm thinking the hex bags upstairs need to get burned," Dean said. "I don't know what kind of juice she has being dead but I don't want to leave them."

"Probably right about that," Bobby said. He took a container out of his pocket and tossed Dean a can of lighter fluid.

Dean caught it easily then nodded towards Sam and said to Bobby, "Keep an eye on him."

As he ran up the steps he heard Sam start to say something but his voice trailed off. Dean guessed he was going to warn him about the monster which just reinforced Dean's urgency to get the hex bags burned and get Sam someplace safe.

He jogged down the hall and went into the room where Bobby had found AJ's spell work. He counted six different bags set out on a wooden table. He didn't stop to look inside them. He stacked them into a pile, doused them with lighter fluid and set them on fire. They flamed up with a roar before disintegrating into nothing. He also found a couple cups with a few ounces of blood in each one. Using a white cloth that someone had left behind, he sopped up the liquid then set that on fire too. Finally, he gathered up some fingernails that were human and some tiny bones that probably weren't. He added the photos of Sheriff Carlisle and burned those too.

Satisfied with cleaning out that room, he moved to the cell where they'd held Sam. He checked around quickly but thoroughly. The room was empty other than the bed so it was easy to search.

He pushed the door to look behind it and a flutter caught his eye. He looked up to see several photos taped to the door. Dean's mouth dried up and his throat filled as he made sense of the images. He stopped moving. He stared at them, seeing his young brother being abused, taking in the fear and pain on his teenage face. Dean hadn't known. He had asked and been told the worst didn't happen. But, it wasn't true. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the tickle of hot, angry tears. Dean felt the wall at his back and realized it was holding him up.

Fury burst through him like a dam breaking. He ripped the photos off the door, dropping them as if he was touching something vile. He saturated them in lighter fluid then flipped a match on to them. The fire whooshed back with a wave of heat that made him step away.

"Damn it," he murmured as he forced himself to regain control.

All his emotions, whatever they were going to morph into had to wait. He needed to get Sam out of the house and off the property.

Dean ran back down the hall and down the steps. He found Irv still waiting by the door while Bobby and Sam stood to one side. Sam swayed just enough for Dean to notice.

"You all right, boy?" Bobby said to Dean.

Dean nodded, knowing it was a lie.

He joined Irv and the two of them lifted the kitchen table upright. Irv pushed open the kitchen door.

Bobby stood away while Dean moved to Sam's side to guide him out. Sam leaned towards him, not on him, just near him like he was looking for shelter. Dean stayed close, talking as they walked through the house, hoping to keep Sam's attention away from Mark Foster and AJ Gleason.

The chilly evening brushed over them until they reached Dean's "baby" and Irv's Dodge. Dean opened the passenger side door of the Impala and helped Sam ease inside. Sam hadn't spoken in a long time. Dean could feel him trembling as he slid into his usual seat. Once he was settled, Dean closed the car door.

He found Irv behind his Dodge scowling.

"What?" Dean said.

"The gate guard is in my trunk. Forgot all about him."

"Is he making any noise?" Dean said.

"Yep. Kicking and carrying on."

"Let him out. Tell him his boss is in the kitchen. What's he going to do now? Call the cops?"

"Good enough," Bobby said, agreeing with Dean's idea.

"Okay," Irv said. He looked at Bobby. "You ready?"

"Let him out," Bobby said.

Both Dean and Bobby lifted their guns to cover the trunk. When Irv opened it, the gate guard popped up like a Jack in the Box. When the guard saw the weapons pointed at him, he held one hand out while the other held his jaw.

He didn't look much older than Sam and his voice trembled as he mumbled, "You don't have to kill me."

"If you climb out of there and head back into the property, you get to live," Irv said.

The guard nodded.

"Don't look back," Irv said.

The guard kept one hand up as he walked through the gate and away from them. Once he left their sight, Dean climbed into the Impala. Bobby joined Irv in his car.