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 five

Truth about Fight Club

The dreams didn't make any sense anymore. Dean curled in on himself hugging his knees to his chest. He'd been left in complete darkness for…he didn't know how long. It was worse this way, not only did Dean dislike the dark…his brain wouldn't shut down…so he wasn't sleeping. And with nothing to divert his attention, the images of Sam kept playing in his head. He'd never been in complete silence before…and contrary to popular belief there really was nothing like it. In the absence of sound he could literally hear the blood rushing through his head. His mind wandered again…and he let it.

Dean wondered if his father was back in town yet? It occurred to him that he didn't even know if he was still in the same town or had they moved him? His father had to have figured out that his sons were missing by now. John Winchester was a lot of things but an uncaring father wasn't one of them. Almost the complete opposite. John cared to the point of fanaticism where his boys were concerned and while Sam wasn't as aware of it as Dean…it didn't mean it wasn't true. He swallowed and reached out blindly for the bottle of water. His fingers brushed the cool plastic and he wrapped his fingers around it, scrunching just to hear some noise. It actually startled him when it cracked in the silence. "I swear I'm gonna start talking to myself." He muttered into the silence.

His throat was as dry as Death Valley in September. He took a few swallows in an effort to lubricate it and then leaned back against the bars again. He hadn't even gotten the lid back on when the area flared to life as light flooded the room and Dean threw his hands up in front his face to protect his vulnerable eyes. It was kinda like getting stabbed in the head with thousands of tiny needles. He cringed at the thought of needles and his fingers absently lifted to his elbow in an unconscious motion. There was a tangible bump where he'd been stabbed and it was warm to the touch. That's probably not good.

His eyes adjusted after a moment and he lowered his hand, waiting for his pupils to dilate enough that he could see clearly. Once again a hazy gas wafted from the vent above him and Dean threw his arm over his mouth and nose trying to avoid breathing it in…it didn't work. His vision blurred and he toppled forward. He was getting really tired of being knocked out like this. At this point he might just walk to the ring if they'd just ask him…and not knock him out.

Next thing Dean knew he was climbing back toward awareness. He groaned as he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. It was sticky and he was grossly reminded that he hadn't showered since he'd been taken here and it wasn't like they had a bathroom for him to avail himself of. "Would you just stop this, already." He groused. His head was pounding and he was nauseous from the gas.

The door on the other side of the ring popped open and a large black guy was shoved through. "Hey!" Dean shouted in indignation. "Why didn't he get knocked out?" The guy stared at him for a fraction of a second before he lunged. His fingers curled into claws and a crazed look in his brown eyes. "Jesus!" Dean cried as he rolled out of the way. The guy was fighting like a bull in a china shop…powerful, but not very fast or original.

Something glinted in the light and Dean groaned when he saw the blade. This dude had been given a weapon too? Not fair! He ignored the pain in his legs and scrambled to another position in the cage. The guy roared at him and charged again.

"We don't have to do this." Dean said as he easily avoided the charge. He slipped to the side and used the guy's momentum against him, tripping him and sending the man's head into the thick bars. The scabs on Dean's wrists tore open and he winced as the blood trickled down his hands onto the floor.

The man was back up in a moment and he looked seriously deranged. His eyes flashing back and forth between Dean and something only he could see. Dean chanced a look over his shoulder and there was nothing there. "Sasha…" The guy mumbled and then lashed out again. This time Dean was able to slip around behind him locking him into a rear-naked-choke. He sank deeper into the hold and felt the moment when the fight went out of the man, he sank to his knees at the same time and waited for the guy's body to relax…which it did. As soon as he fell forward, Dean let go. He didn't want to kill the guy…just keep the crazy man from spilling Dean's guts all over the floor.

Applause resounded through the chamber and Dean slowly turned to see the teacher watching. The light was dim where he was standing and Dean squinted when he thought he saw a flash of black. What the hell? He wondered. "Nicely done…although the point is to kill your opponent not disable him."

"I'm not a killer." Dean said simply as he looked over at the still form of the other man. It was true. He wasn't a killer…of humans.

The teacher tilted his head to the side and 'tsk'd' at Dean. "I think we both know that's not exactly true."

That caught Dean off guard and he gulped when the guy moved closer to the cage. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The man raised an eyebrow and smiled. There was something cold and sinister about it. "I told you, a fighter."

"Then why drug us? What the hell does that do?" His adrenaline was wearing off and Dean could feel his injuries as he moved away from the edges of the cage. "And what about all this training you kept spouting off about?"

Brown eyes lifted to meet green and the guy gestured at the floor where the man that Dean had choked out was laying. But as Dean looked down he didn't see anything. He was alone in the cage. There was no one in there with him. "What the…" Dean spun around a few times and then blinked when his stomach complained. "Where'd he go?"

"He was never in there with you, Dean. That fight was all in your head." He watched as Dean's forehead furrowed in confusion. "Why do you think you were chosen? Certainly not for your brains. If I'd wanted smart…I would have taken your little brother." That comment had Dean surging against the bars, a feral snarl erupting from somewhere deep inside him. "There it is…that's it…that's why I chose you." A gleeful grin spread across his face and his eyes shifted from brown to black.

"Ah shit…" Dean breathed when he saw the transformation. "What are you?"

"Oh thank god…it certainly took you long enough…you haven't met something like me." The thing popped a shoulder in and out of place and the sick wet sound had Dean gulping in distaste. "I thought you hunters were supposed to be smart…but I guess Sammy got all the brains." The eyes switched back to brown and the smile died. "Oh well…I suppose if you don't work out…there's always him."

That woke Dean up. He slammed into the bars and wrapped his fingers around them as he snarled at the thing. "Don't even think about it."

"Don't make me think about it." It shot back at him.

"What do I have to do?" It was the last thing that Dean wanted…to give in to this sadistic bastard. But he would do anything to protect Sam and if that meant killing…or dying? Then he would gladly do that. His hands loosened and slid down the bars as he waited for an answer.

"The clientele I work with have…particular tastes. For instance they like to see hunters go up against other hunters…but that's not as much fun when you guys can think clearly…you work together to spoil the fun. So I devised a little cocktail that allows some of my more select clients to observe what's happening in your heads…and they feed off fear." He laughed. "I suppose it's like the video games the kids are raving about…except that the fighters we control are real."

Dean stared like an idiot at the guy. All this was for some show? The image of Sam burning flitted through his head and he clenched his eyes shut and shook his head to clear the visual. "Why?"

"Why?" A laugh bubbled up and the man nearly double over as he thought about Dean's question. The kid really didn't have any clue what he was…too bad that father of theirs hadn't taught his sons everything. "Because it's fun." And with that the room blacked out. Dean sank to the floor of the ring, his back against the bars and dropped his head against his knees. He knew nothing about what he was up against and that was rule number one of his father's list. Always know what you're going up against.

He'd really thought that he was fighting that guy. What the hell was happening to him? And where would it stop? Dean knew that he was losing his grip on reality, he wasn't sure what was real anymore.

XXXX

John filled Bobby in on what they'd learned and the older hunter was spitting mad. He shook his head and glared at the guy, Danny that had brought them the information. The guy was next to useless in Bobby's opinion. He knew about what was happening to Dean, he couldn't help them locate the kid before it went too far and they lost him. His old blue eyes swiped over to Sam and he frowned. The kid was huddled on the bed, his knees pulled up beneath his chin and his arms folded around his shins. He was staring at some infomercial on television, but Bobby could tell the kid wasn't really watching it.

Bobby bit at his lower lip as something occurred to him. An angle that they hadn't looked at yet. "Are we sure it's a human that took Dean?"

Sam's head shot up and he stared wide-eyed at the two older hunters. John's gaze flashed to his son and then back to his friend. He hadn't considered that this might be retribution for something. Damn-it! I'm sloppy where the boys are concerned! He condemned himself for his lack of thought. "No…we're not."

TBC…

Author's Note: New chapter coming tomorrow, sorry this one is late. Spent the day traveling for the holidays. But here's what I have for chapter five. Shorter than the others, I know, but I wanted to get this out for you guys…don't worry there's so much more coming.

Thank you to everyone that read and gave me reviews for the last chapter, please keep it up. To those who reviewed: OneInsomniaticHoosier, superchiwo, beautifulliar326, TiTivillus, dandy44, Dean's Worshiper, Nina Ferraro, reannablue, South of Eden, mb64, Beakers47, general yumi, babyreaper, ajaali, Lamarquise, and sylvie-winchester. Thanks for taking the time, much appreciated!

PLEASE REVIEW: Let me know if you're enjoying this little work of fiction, please.