Chapter 8

Dean nearly drove off the road when his cell chimed and he saw the name on the caller ID, Bates, Stephen MD. The guy had some nerve. Guiding the big car to the side of the road and answering at the same time Dean let loose all his pent up rage.

"You goddamn, sick freak. What the hell did you do to my brother? I'm going to feed you your own—"

"Dean." A soft voice with a short chuckle added.

"Sam?" He cut the engine. One hand gripped the steering wheel, the other the phone. "Are you all right? What happened? Sam talk to me!"

Another soft chuckle, Sam was definitely still under the affects of the Valium. "Dude, you won't give me the chance. I stole the doctor's phone, Patrick doesn't know."

"Good boy, that's my boy. Sam, I heard most…are you okay, Sammy?"

"Yes. No." Sam whimpered. "I miss you, Dean, I hate this and I want to come home." Soft whimpers turned to hysterical giggles. Then the awful words, "It hurt," were sobbed out.

Swearing softly under his breath, Dean knew his brother was swinging too wildly between moods and needed Dean's reassurance. "Sam. Sammy listen to me, take a deep breath and then another and listen to me."

A sniff then Dean could hear Sam shuffling around, probably nodding.

"Okay, kiddo, I'm here, I'm right here and I'm going to take care of you, but I need you to relax for me. Two more really deep breaths, Sammy." Dean's own shoulders relaxed when he heard Sam's deep inhales followed by exhales. "Just imagine me right there with you. You can put your head on my chest, just how you always liked to."

"Can hear your heartbeat." Another, more relaxed soft chuckle. "And you always like to rub my hair. You say it makes you feel calm."

"Yep. Now I'm going to ask the questions, and you're going to tell me what happened. Okay."

Sam's words came through the phone in a jumbled rush, "It hurt. I couldn't move and I didn't want—"

"Sam!" Dean barked into the phone. He hated doing that, but he had to calm the kid down. "I heard about the milker. What happened after that, Sammy did that man…did he—?"

"Patrick stopped him." Sam's voice changed again, back to shallow sobs and choked out words. "I don't want to be here. I miss you."

"Sshhh." Dean let out a breath. He'd been terrified that idiot witch had let his kid brother be raped. "I'm going to get you away from him, I promise, Sammy. You belong to me."

"More than a week, closer to two." Sam hiccupped and snuffled. "Dean, don't be angry."

"I'm not angry, Sam. You need to get some sleep."

"I tried. Kept dreaming about him, that doctor and what he put inside me. He put that thing in me. It was too much. Then I was still strapped down and too hard. Patrick t-t-touched…I didn't want him to…I tried to get away…the straps were too tight and he…"

Biting down on his lip to keep from swearing into the phone Dean hit the steering wheel with his free hand. This was how Patrick thought he'd win over Sam? "Sam, listen to me. The next time Patrick lets you call, I'm going to have to ask you to do some things, I know you won't care for them much and I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. But he's got to learn who you answer to."

"I'm so tired."

"I know. You go to sleep, okay? You'll feel better when you wake up."

"Can't sleep. Nightmares."

"I'm going to stay right here with you. You go to sleep, you won't have anymore nightmares. I'm here."

"You'll stay?"

The odd, desperate tone of Sam's voice cracked Dean's heart in two. What had become of them that Sam thought Dean would abandon him? "I'll stay as long as you want. Just keep the phone by your ear. I've got you."

"Don't want to be here." Sam's words were starting to slur, he was mumbling more and that was a sure sign sleep was closing in.

Dean relaxed back farther against the seat. For now at least Sam was all right. "Just a few more days, Sammy. Can you hang on for a few more days for me?"

"Mmmhmmm…you say so…I'll do it…"

Dean couldn't help barking a short laugh, those were words he almost never heard from his brother. "I say so, Sammy."

A minute later he could tell by the sounds of Sam's soft breathing through the phone that his boy was finally asleep. Starting the car, Dean eased it back onto the road. He clicked on the speaker phone and set his cell on the seat beside him. The kid was six and a half feet tall, solid muscle and twenty-six and Dean still used a baby monitor. If the situation hadn't been so serious it'd be laughable. Dean stored that piece of information away for later use.

Pulling off at the first truck stop he came to, Dean kept his cell phone on and headed to the row of pay phones just outside the diner. A gruff voice answered the phone on the second ring, no matter how much Bobby grumbled, Dean knew he hadn't been asleep. "Hey, Bobby, I have a confirmation on the name. Can you get me an address on a Stephen Bates, MD? Thanks. No, my cell is fine, low battery. I'll talk to you in the morning."

After collecting some take out and coffee Dean was back on the road. He knew the city and in a short while he'd have an address.

-0-

Sam cracked one eye open and stretched, immediately wishing he hadn't. He winced and yawned, barely turning his head when his bedroom door opened.

"Time to get up, Sam." Patrick marched through the room. "We're leaving."

Moving stiffly, trying to clear the cobwebs from his head and get his elbow under him to push forward and sit up, Sam blinked and glanced down at his hand when his fingers curled around something hard.

Crap.

"What the hell?" Patrick grabbed the cell phone from Sam's hand before Sam could react. He glared at it then turned and shot putted the thing across the room. It shattered against the wall. "Where'd this come from? Who were you talking to?"

Finally Sam got his stiff, sore body to move and he sat up, making sure the sheets stayed across his hips. "I stole it from the doctor last night. Who do you think I was talking to? I called Dean."

"You called—" Patrick started to pace. "I did not give you permission."

"What did you expect?" Sam shot back. He kept his eyes focused on the sheets, picking at the edge. "You barely let me talk to him. I miss him. You pumped me full of drugs last night and let that man…I was tied down and scared and I wanted to hear my brother's voice. I wanted him to know I was okay."

"I am the one who takes care of you now."

"I miss my brother. He takes care of me. He cares for me."

"Get dressed." Patrick snapped and left the room.

Sam didn't waste time dressing. He didn't want to anger Patrick any further, the man was simply too touchy when it came to his emotions. That was odd, considering his age, Sam would have expected the opposite. Shrugging the thoughts off he dressed in fresh jeans and shirts. Grabbing the ones he'd worn yesterday he walked quietly into the main room and stood, head bowed down, in front of Patrick.

The witch barely glanced up from the newspaper he was reading.

Swallowing the heavy sigh and restraining the obnoxious eye roll, Sam reminded himself this was for Dean. It wasn't forever and in less than two weeks he'd be back with his brother. "I'm sorry about the call, sir. Me and drugs don't mix too well. I never think straight." Without looking up he held out the clothing. "I can't wear these again." For effect he managed a small sniff and brushed his free hand over his face.

Patrick leaned back in the chair, flung his arm over the back and looked Sam up and down. "Your brother hasn't protected you very well of late, Sam, or cared for you."

Instead of shouting at Patrick that Dean did those things just fine, and was being forcibly kept apart from Sam right now so he couldn't, Sam simply nodded. "Thank you for looking after me." Never mind the entire thing last night was a set up and your fault.

Taking the clothes from Sam, Patrick laid them to the side. "I'll dispose of these. You'll have to be punished of course, I can't have you disobeying me."

Sam nodded.

"Go to your room. You'll stay there until I call you for your meals. We'll be leaving today, however there will be no more calls to Dean for a few days."

"Yes, sir." Sam's heart sank, but it wasn't totally unexpected. Patrick didn't seem the type to do anything physical which would be done and over quickly. He was definitely the type to want to draw things out. When Patrick waved one hand in the air, Sam turned and walked back into his room.

A few hours later he was summoned to the main room. Lunch was there, which made Sam happy since he'd had no breakfast and he was hungry. Patrick nodded to a chair at the table and Sam obediently sat, waiting quietly while Patrick finished the call he was on.

"I accept your apology, doctor, and your generous referral." Patrick clicked the phone off and shut it, stuffing it into his pocket. "I didn't tell Dr. Bates you stole from him. He's apologized and offered me a rather lucrative referral, which I will accept. You will do exactly as I say on this, it'll be more money than we've made for the past three deals. There will also be a game involved. I know I promised never to whore you out, however I believe since you came so close to breaking our deal, you need to learn your place and I may allow it this once."

"I also said I'd do whatever I could to keep Dean off our trail. Letting him know I wasn't hurt was doing exactly that." Sam figured it was worth a shot.

Patrick's hand hit the table making Sam jump. "I did not give you permission to speak. Eat your lunch and return to your room and unpack. We'll be here a few more days after all. You may read or watch the television."

Sam wasn't hungry anymore, in fact the idea of food churned his stomach into knots, but he forced it down anyway. The way Patrick was acting, Sam wasn't sure when the next meal might be. He silently returned to his room when he was finished, relieved to be away from the witch and alone. He much preferred punishment of other sorts, being teased and denied or a good spanking. Those cleared the air, this shit simply fueled resentment. Patrick was new to this that was for sure. He didn't even come close to the skills Dean possessed when it came to being a Dom, more importantly Sam's Dom.

-0-

Dean stopped at the reception desk, smiled and winked at the pretty thing sitting there. She opened her mouth, but Dean beat her to it, flashing a fake badge. "In about twenty minutes this entire place is going to be swarming with Feds armed with paper shredders and superiority complexes. I suggest you very quietly collect your personal things and leave, since it's obvious you're in no way connected with what's been going on here."

Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth again. Again Dean cut her off, leaning over the desk. "Nineteen minutes."

Two minutes later she'd grabbed a few belongings and scurried out of the office. Dean locked the outer door then headed down the hall to the private office. Rapping his knuckles on the door he called, "Dr. Bates?"

"See my receptionist,." came the reply muffled by the door.

Dean smirked, backed up a few steps and slammed his foot into the door. The doctor was up and moving, but he was no match for Dean. Crossing the room in a few long strides, Dean had the man by the shirt collar and slammed down into his chair. When he tried to protest, Dean hauled him to his feet and slammed him down again. "Shut it!"

He pulled his handgun out and pressed it to the doctor's throat. "You put a kid on a table last night and used him. Where are the fluids you took from him?"

The man simply babbled what Dean thought sounded like pleas for his life.

"Look, asshole, I can blow your brains out and search this place and find it myself."

Whimpering some noise the man pointed to a door.

Yanking him to his feet, Dean shoved the man ahead of him. "Quit your sniveling, it's embarrassing." Dean followed Bates out the door and down a short hall to an exam room. His eyes landed immediately on the table.

Bates sniffled and mumbled, "In there." He pointed to a refrigerator.

Dean shoved Bates onto the table. "Move and die." He went to the refrigerator and found a few vials of white fluid. Taking them, Dean moved to the bathroom off the exam room and flushed the contents. Returning to the exam room he stood in front of Bates who was on the table quivering. "That boy shake like you are now?" Dean flipped one of the straps into the air. "You tied him down with these? Got off on it, didn't you?" Dean loomed over Bates.

"H-he's so young, fine build…" Bates stammered out the words.

"He's my little brother you sick freak! He's mine!" Dean pulled the man to his feet again and started to the door. "C'mon."

When they were back in the doctor's office, Dean grabbed the phone, turned it and slammed it back down. "Call Patrick. Do whatever you have to do to convince him you want to make up for what you did to Sam last night. Then you tell him you have a friend who is willing to pay ten times what you did for a game, some blood and some semen. He'll also want some…private time with that fine young body." Dean shoved his handgun against the man's jaw and jabbed a few times.

With shaking fingers Bates dialed. Dean had to give the man credit, even with a gun against his face he managed to do a good job of convincing Patrick he had a friend willing to pay and pay well for Sam. It turned Dean's stomach, how he could picture Patrick nearly drooling into the phone over the offer of so much money.

When Bates ended the call, he cringed away from Dean, hands over his head. "Please…leave…"

Dean kicked the man in the balls, stepping away when Bates lurched forward, screaming, landing on his knees on the floor. "You ever speak a word of this."

"N-n-no, I wouldn't…not ever…"

"And you ever do to anyone else what you did to my brother last night, I'll be back."

Turning away, Dean headed for the door. He stopped with one hand on the door knob. "You know, I did this once before, left someone I shouldn't have and it came back and seriously bit me in the ass." Dean raised his gun. "Live and learn."

He fired.

Walking out the door, Dean closed it behind him before the thud of Bates hitting the floor reverberated through the hall.

Dean went back to his motel and began putting together his plan. First on his list was getting someone to be the 'buyer'. Patrick would recognize his or Bobby's voice on the phone, so that left Dean with one alternative. He closed his phone, took a sip of his beer and turned around. "What took you so long?"

"I came as soon as you called." Castiel held his phone out, still turned on. Dean sighed, took the phone, shut it off and handed it back.

"Thanks. I need to ask you a favor."

Cas took a slow look around the room, gaze landing on the lone king-sized bed. "Did you and Sam have a spat and split up again, or have you simply decided two beds was too much trouble?"

Dean gagged on his beer, spitting more out than he swallowed, sputtering, "What?"

Shrugging, Cas drew in a calm breath. "You do know I know all about you and your brother coveting each other, right?"

"And you're not offended?"

Cas tilted his head to one side. "Why should I be? I don't covet either one of you."

"Oh…uh…good. So, that favor is sort of for Sam too."

"Where is Sam?"

"Well, that's part of the problem. Remember that witch, Patrick? The one who was playing poker games for lives?"

Nodding solemnly, Castiel held up a finger. "Now, he offends me. Taking advantage of people in such a manner is against the laws of God."

Dean snorted and finished his beer. He didn't bother to add that screwing his brother's brains out for a good part of their adult lives and thinking about it for a lot longer than that probably was too. Pulling out a note pad, he handed it to Cas. "He, Patrick, he took Sam, said something about his blood being valuable for spells or something. He blackmailed Sam, forced him to go with him for a month and sell his blood, help him run his cons."

"Why would Sam do such a thing?" Cas's eyebrows raised and he let out a low, soft ooohhh. "This Patrick threatened you, didn't he? This is grave. Sam was very lost without you. That man knew what he was doing and how to get to your brother. He's a smart boy, but very impressionable without you. I've seen it."

That caught Dean by surprise. He had to turn away and take a few deep breaths to get himself under control. Twice now Sam had been abandoned and on his own and twice now Dean was finding out what a disaster Sam became. Never again. Wiping one hand across his eyes and over his face, Dean nodded and turned back to face Cas. "Things have changed in the last few days."

"He has hurt Sam."

"Patrick let it happen, yes. It took me all this time to track them down, it's been weeks. The kid is there, alone with that whack job, up to now he was scared, but dealing, not harmed. Patrick has let him call me every few days."

"Sam shouldn't be harmed. Selling his blood is wrong and could be dangerous."

"It's not just his blood anymore."

Cas opened his mouth, realization dawned in his eyes and spread over his face. "How can I help?"

"I need to set up a meet with Patrick, he'll bring Sam, think I'm an interested buyer. But he knows my voice on the phone, Bobby's too, or I'd ask him. I have no one else to ask." Dean pointed to the note pad. "I wrote down what I need you to say and where to meet them."

Cas dipped his chin in once and opened his phone, dialing. Dean had to admit, he was impressed with Cas's ability to set up the meeting with Patrick. He played the part perfectly, despite stabbing a finger at a few of the details, like how this client would want more than a few drops of blood and expected Sam's attention as well. When he hung up Cas pocketed his phone and asked, "Was that all right?"

Dean smiled. "Yes, it was. Perfect." He laid one hand on Cas's shoulder, "Um…Cas…about that coveting thing…"

"You love your brother."

There was no question implied, but Dean nodded anyway.

"Your brother loves you."

Again no question, but Dean stood there dumbly nodding.

Cas lifted one shoulder and let it drop. "Then I don't understand the problem."

"Just…uh…Sam would be a bit mortified to know…"

"I understand. And I hope Sam is unharmed. You will call if you need assistance?"

"I will, but this one I have to go alone on. Thanks." A second later Dean was by himself in his room again. He had some supplies to purchase and a swanky club to stake out and plot some escape routes if necessary. In another two days he'd be with Sam, have his brother back. Dean was so close he could taste it.

TBC

A/N: More in a week or so. Thanks for reading and especially to those who took time to review or comment! :)