Legalities: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this. I am simply playing in the amazing sandbox that is the Supernatural Universe.

Warnings: This is my take on what would have been bad enough to send Sam into a confessional as a child. Taken from a comment made by Sam in the season 8 finale "Sacrifice".

It's unabashed hurt Winchester. Dean suffers because of a choice that Sam makes in a moment of selfish anger. Will he get the chance to make things right before Dean is destroyed forever? Can their father put aside his own obsessive anger and his need to hunt long enough to track down both Sam and Dean? Or will his obsession destroy his sons.

If you do not like the violence, then DO NOT read this story. It revolves around the brothers and their relationship and this idea wouldn't leave me alone. So here is my take on the one and only time Sam confessed his greatest sins.

Rating: T with possible upgrade to MA at a later point if it takes a really dark turn.

NO SLASH/ BROTHERLY LOVE AND FAMILY ANGST ONLY

Please Review if you want to see this one continue.

Chapter Three

The Search

The sun was just starting to clear the canopy of trees near the parking lot at the high school when John and Sam pulled into the lot. Sam's heart sank when he saw the Impala sitting alone in the lot. He saw his father's knuckles go white when he gripped the steering wheel harder…he wasn't happy to see the car either.

"Stay here, Sam." He said before he piled out of the truck and walked toward the black vehicle. The cool air rippled through the truck and Sam shivered, but it wasn't from the cold.

Sam stared at his brother's prized possession where it was parked near the edge of the parking lot and his stomach clenched in real fear. Dean would never just leave that car parked and take off. Which meant that something had happened to his brother, while he'd been looking for Sam. And that was the moment that the guilt started. He'd done this. Somehow something had happened to Dean and it was entirely his fault. He leaned back against the seat of his father's truck and swallowed his fear when he saw their father stalking back toward him…and he didn't look happy.

Sam took a deep breath and started picking at his fingernails…a nervous habit that he developed years ago. Dean was always getting on him about it. For as much of a slob as his older brother could be, he was fastidiously clean.

He jumped when the driver's side door was wrenched open and John crawled in behind the wheel. Sam wanted ask what he'd found, but he was afraid. Afraid of what his father had found…or even worse, what he hadn't found. John scrubbed his hand down his face and turned to look at Sam. His tired eyes narrowed in frustration.

"It's empty." He stated flatly.

It had been what Sam was expecting, but it made his chest contract painfully despite that. His eyes shifted to the car as the light from the rising sun glinted off the shiny obsidian paint and he swallowed hard. "There's no clues?" He managed after a moment.

John pulled in a deep breath and shook his head. He grabbed his phone and dialed Bobby's number. "Yeah, hey Bobby…no, there's no sign of him…but the Impala's here…think you can come by and help me pick it up later?" There was a pause as John listened to the older hunter and then nodded at something Bobby had said. "Yeah, yeah…okay, we'll meet you back at the motel and come up with a game plan." He hung up and if Sam could have crawled under the front seat…he would have.

He felt horrible and the worried look on his father's face wasn't making him feel any better. The stress was evident in John's voice when he finally spoke up. "Bobby's gonna come back with me later and we'll take the car back to the motel." Sam simply nodded. "And then I think you better get ready for school."

Sam's eyes blew wide at that. He can't be serious. Sam thought. How the hell was he gonna concentrate in school with Dean MIA? "Seriously?" He managed after a moment of silence.

John's eyes shifted to Sam and he raised an eyebrow in question. "Am I serious about you going to school today?" There was another pause and Sam knew he was going to school, no matter what he wanted to do. "Yes. Can't have you missing class after going to such lengths to make sure we stayed long enough for that competition."

It was a low blow and Sam's eyebrows cut down in shame. "Yes sir." He muttered and slumped in the seat like the teenager he was. How could he argue with that? He'd gotten what he wanted, hadn't he? They were staying and he would be able to compete in the science competition at the end of the week…the truck engine rumbled as his father put it in drive and they pulled out of the parking lot. Sam's eyes landing on the Impala one last time before they turned onto the street and he lost sight of the car.

Sam sat silently in the seat as they drove back to the motel. He didn't know what to say to his father…he just knew that he was to blame for all of this and he hated the feeling. Part of him wanted to ask what their father had left unsolved when he'd rushed back to Butte to find his boys…and another part of him, the rational part, knew that he shouldn't ask that. His father was upset and that would just make it worse.

They pulled into the lot and parked in front of the motel room door. John cut the engine and sighed before climbing out of the truck. Bobby's old rust rod was parked in front of the other room's door and Sam bit at his lower lip in agitation. It was bad enough that his father was keenly aware of his colossal screw up…but now so was Bobby. And if there was anyone besides Dean that Sam wanted respect from…it was the old hunter.

He slowly pulled on the handle of the door and crawled out of the truck and into the blinding bright sunlight. It was going to be a beautiful day…and it was a direct mockery of his internal state at the moment. Sam trudged inside the open door and glanced up for a second at Bobby before dropping his gaze back to the floor.

XXXX

Dean groaned in pain when he returned to consciousness in a rush. His stomach ached in new and interesting ways when he shifted a tiny bit. His hands found their way down and he felt the hole in his shirt and then shook his head. It wasn't like he had so many clothes that he could afford to lose any like this. He blinked several times and tilted his head so he could see. The room was lit up like a Christmas tree and squinted against the bright lights when they invaded his pupils.

"Geeze…" He complained and forced himself to sit up. After taking a deep breath Dean glanced down and then wished he hadn't. His stomach was covered in blisters where the electricity had coursed through him. And the skin had blackened at the two entry points. If it looked terrible, it felt even worse. Every muscle in his body was sore, like he'd been on a training run with his father.

Movement off to his right had him glancing in that direction. A huge guy locked in a cage like his was staring at him. The man looked to be about thirty and at least two hundred fifty pounds of pure muscle. Dean was pretty sure that the guy's neck was about the size of his thigh. But it wasn't the size that made Dean swallow hard; it was the lack of sanity in the man's grey eyes. He was staring like a maniac, but there didn't seem to be anything behind those creepy eyes.

"Uh…hey buddy. You got any clue where we are?" Dean shifted and grabbed the half full bottle of water and took a drink. The man never shifted a muscle; he just continued to stare at Dean like he was the most entertaining thing in the area.

"He won't talk to you." Another voice said.

Dean found himself staring into a darkened corner; another cage was hanging from the ceiling with a smaller boy inside. He looked to be around Sam's age. Dean closed his eyes against the pain thinking about Sam caused. If he went down that rabbit hole, he might not make it back out of the black hole of guilt the spiral would cause. The kid had blonde hair and he was skinny and lanky…just like Sam. Stop. He commanded himself.

"Why not?" Dean asked.

The kid shrugged. "He's been here a long time. They like to torture us when we aren't fighting."

Okay, that made sense based on what he'd learned from the teacher so far. "You have any clue where we are?" He scanned the area for anyone else, but Dean couldn't make out any other cages at the moment…but off in the distance he could clearly see the ring and his gut told him that was a very bad thing.

"No. None of us know where we are. We don't leave this area…unless we die." The kid pointed at a wall and Dean's gaze followed. On the wall were chains and what looked like shackles attached to the wall. A table stood next to the chains a dark red leather cloth covering it. But Dean could see that there were tools or something underneath the cloth.

"So this is like Fight Club?" The kid's head tilted to the side and he stayed silent. Dean made a face. "First rule of fight club is, no one talks about fight club?" When he still remained silent Dean gave up on the movie references. "Never mind…what's your name?"

"Joey." The boy looked away and picked at his ragged clothing.

Dean reached down toward the sandwich sitting on a plate in front of him. Apparently their zookeepers had come and cleaned up his half-eaten sandwich from before.

"Don't eat that!" Joey cried suddenly. His bony fingers grabbed the bars of his cage and he leaned against it in emphasis.

Dean dropped the food out of habit and stared at the boy like he'd grown a second head. "Why the hell not?"

The kid sank away from the bars and settled back on his butt, still watching Dean carefully. "They drug the food."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course they do." He muttered and then glanced at the water…food he go without for a while, but not water. That was one of the lessons their father had drilled into his boys. The body can survive without food for about three weeks, but it could only go a couple days without water. "What about the water?"

Joey shook his head. "No, they leave that alone."

"Why drug us at all?" Dean queried as he took several long swallows of water hoping that it would fill the gaping hole in his stomach.

"Keep us weak. So we can't escape when they come in to torture us."

A shiver ran down Dean's spine as he thought of the cattle prod. If that was where it started, then he definitely didn't want to know where it ended. "Why? What are they getting out of this?"

Joey snorted. "Money. It's all about the fights."

Dean's mouth dropped open and the huffed. "Like cock fights." He said without any humor at the terminology. This wasn't at all funny on any level. He'd seen the animals after those cock fights or even the dog fights and after being 'trained' the animals were more feral than anything else. And he wondered if that could happen to humans? His green eyes slid over to the hulking man still staring at him from the other cage. And he knew that he had his answer. Torture a person enough and it was possible to scrub out their humanity. Which meant that they were probably not dealing with the supernatural but normal 'crazy' humans.

"Sorta." Joey said simply.

A noise had the boy turning away from Dean and sinking into the bottom of his cage. It looked like the kid was trying to make himself smaller.

"I see you're awake…good. Time to train." A man that Dean had never seen appeared from the shadows and stepped toward Dean's cage. Before he could do anything more than blink the guy lifted a gun and shot at him. A dart embedded itself in Dean's chest and he pulled it out immediately, but it wasn't fast enough. He felt warmth spread through his body like an internal sunburn.

"Can't you guys just ask nicely?" Dean groaned as everything below the injection site went completely numb. His body slumped bonelessly to the floor and all he could do is glare at the man. The dark haired guy hit a switch on the wall and the cage Dean was in sank into the floor and he was left lying on open floor. Which explained why he couldn't find a way out of the damn thing.

Another man came out of nowhere and reached down on Dean's other side as the first guy helped haul him to his feet. Not that Dean could get his legs under him in this state. He was hauled into the ring and tossed into the center. Dean's arms and legs pinwheeled in several circles as he landed in a heap on the cold stone floor and his head slammed into the stone base when his body rolled to a stop. Before the gate he was tossed through closed the hulking mass of the guy in the other cage stepped into the ring.

Something inside of Dean clicked into place and he realized why this all seemed vaguely familiar. He'd been studying the Romans in his history class this semester and this was almost textbook gladiator stuff. Grab people from 'anywhere' and throw them into a ring, make them fight to the death. "Ah shit." He groaned as the feeling started coming back. How the hell does this keep happening? He wondered silently. It would figure that he'd managed to get involved with something that the regular public didn't even know existed. It was bad enough when he thought it was a monster…but the knowledge that it appeared to be normal people? That sent his self-loathing up to whole new level.

There was a slow burn along his extremities as the feeling started to return. He pulled his arms up underneath his chest and shifted his weight until he was sitting upright. "There're easier ways to kill me." He groaned out.

"Don't worry Dean. We don't want him to kill you…not yet…still gotta make some money off you." This is just a training session so we can gauge where you're at." The men stepped back and folded their arms across their chests and leaned against the walls as they watched.

The big guy inside the ring with Dean looked over his shoulder at the two men for confirmation or some sort of approval. When they nodded briefly he lunged forward at Dean. He fell on the middle Winchester with a fury that made no sense. It was like the guy had lost his freaking mind. A meaty fist caught Dean in the shoulder as he rolled out of the way. His movements were still sluggish and barely managed to avoid the punch.

Dean rolled up onto his knees and forced his sluggish body up to unsteady feet. The man growled and slammed his fist into the floor in blind rage as he surged up and spun back on the unsteady smaller body of Dean.

"I'd fight back if I were you, it'll be worse if you don't." Sometime during the opening festivities of this fight, the teacher had stepped up ringside. He folded his arms over his massive chest and tilted his head to the side.

Green eyes shifted from the teacher to the hulking mass that was covering the ground between them in giant strides. Dean swallowed and ducked a flurry of wild jabs that would have laid him out for sure. His body protested the movements and he found that he wasn't as fast as he should be. Drugged food. He remembered when he stumbled and banged his knees into the concrete floor. Within seconds the other guy had landed on his back and pinned him to the floor. His fingers inched around Dean's neck and he started to squeeze until the air was completely cut off and Dean wheezed.

His hands grasped uselessly at the sausage-sized fingers of the other guy. A cough from outside the ring had the other guy glancing up and then Dean felt the pressure relaxed and he sucked in oxygen. His chest heaved and the guy crawled off him, reaching for something off to the side that Dean couldn't see. The black spots in front of Dean's eyes ran into each other like ants when someone steps on their pile and scatters it. The sudden blinding pain in his lower back caused his entire spine to arch like a banana bent in the wrong direction. His jaw clenched without conscious thought and the muscles in his face jumped as pain coursed through his entire body.

The burning sensation increased and he wanted to scream, but his words were constricted in his throat. It felt like his spine was being pulled out through his lower back…Dean had never felt pain like that in his life. His fingers curled into claws and his nails bit into his palms leaving small, but bloody crescent shapes.

"That's enough Martin." The teachers voice said evenly…and suddenly his body sagged as whatever had been used was removed.

Dean twitched in pain and curled in on himself, his eyes clenched shut as he waited for his muscles to release. But even after a few moments the pain in his back was still there.

"You refuse to fight again…and it'll be worse next time." The man said and nodded at Martin.

Dean's eyes focused just in time to see a large foot descending on his head and then, thank god, the darkness claimed him again.

TBC…

Author's Note: Next chapter: "John saw the man following them before Sam. He spun around pulling his pistol from where it was hidden beneath his jacket in a fluid motion. The small guy held his hands up in the air in a plaintive gesture as his wild eyes jumped back and forth between John and Sam.

"Who the hell are you and why're you following us?" John growled out. His blue eyes as steady as the silver weapon aimed at the man's head.

"I know where he is." The guy's voice shook with fear and his mousey brown hair fell into his eyes, obscuring them from view.

Sam lunged forward and grabbed the guy. He was about the same size as the guy. The man's eyes blew wide as Sam slammed him up against the wall. "Where the fuck is my brother?" He growled.

Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed the last chapter, especially: South of Eden, janiekm, guests (Several!), Laurs's-eyes, Beakers47, Bball25, babyreaper, becca65d, myscout14, Sylvie-winchester, dandy44, ajaali, mb64, Dean's Worshiper, and Nina Ferraro. Thank you so much guys!

PLEASE REVIEW: Please, please, please continue letting me know what you think.