So, new chappy... finally rescuing poor Sammy!! woohoo!! let me know what you think as reviews are like gold to me... thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews!! bambers;)
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was nearing dark when Dawn drove up to the compound, and she was thankful for the absence of light. After several very long moments, in which she held her breath the entire time, one of her brothers waved her through the entrance. In her review mirror, she watched the man close the gate behind her as a shiver of fear worked its way down her spine.
Dawn had listened to everything John had said about rescuing Dean first and whereas she knew in her heart he was doing what he thought was best for both brothers, Dawn just wasn't willing to risk Sam's life on the hope that John could get to him in time. And after her conversation with the Father earlier in the day, she was even more certain that she needed to do something on her own to save Sam.
Maybe the Father didn't know about John or the rescue plans, but Dawn was positive the cult leader knew of her feelings toward Sam. And if he did know, Dawn needed to make sure Sam was no where around if the Father came back to the compound. With that thought in mind, Dawn parked her vehicle and headed inside the smallest of the outbuildings. She glanced around the sparsely furnished eating area, made sure no one was around and then rushed over to the coffee maker sitting on the counter.
With one last look over her shoulder to make sure no one was coming into the room, she withdrew three vials from her pocket and dumped the contents of both into the steaming liquid. Dawn knew she couldn't risk bringing the tainted coffee to her brothers, but also knew that while on duty they often took shifts coming inside to take a break. It was a calculated risk, and she would have to wait, but hopefully they would all eventually be out cold, and she could take Sam from his prison.
Taking a deep calming breath, Dawn returned the vials to her pocket, and with shaky fingers she took out two syringes and filled them. While she could wait for the outer guard to succumb to the effects of the sedative, she needed to make sure the two men standing guard just inside the prison were out cold while she prepared Sam to leave. With one more deep breath, she smoothed her hair, plastered a fake smile to her face, and headed outside. It took every ounce of sheer willpower she possessed, but Dawn kept to a slow leisurely pace as not to arouse suspicion. If she appeared too eager to get to Sam, her brothers would suspect, and that was something she could not afford to happen.
"Dawn," came a voice from directly behind her, and Dawn froze in her spot, a wave of terror sweeping through her as Markus grabbed hold of her arm. "What are you doing here?" he asked, and quirked a brow as she turned to face him. "Father told me this morning that you were no longer allowed to see the prisoner."
Dawn's smile faltered for the briefest of moments as she tried to think of a logical reason why the Father would change his mind. In truth, she hadn't known that the Father had now forbidden her from seeing Sam, and as such struggled to find a plausible explaination for being there now. "I think you misunderstood him, Markus. Why would I be here if he hadn't sent me?"
"No, I don't think I misunderstood anything." His grip tightened around her arm as he forcefully dragged her back to the building she'd just come from. "See, he used the words betrayal and traitor, an' I'm pretty damn sure I understand what they mean."
At the word traitor, and seeing the hard cold glint in the older man's eyes, Dawn's knees buckled. She'd witnessed firsthand what the Father did to someone he deemed a traitor, and it made what the madman had done to Sam seem like child's play.
"Not a traitor," Dawn denied as she tried desperately to jerk free of Markus' grasp on her arm, to no avail. "You have to believe me, Markus." Tears brimmed in her eyes as she pleaded with him, but Markus didn't even seem to notice.
"Are you calling the Father a liar?" Markus' tone turned deadly as he roughly pushed Dawn inside the building.
Raising a hand, he backhanded her across the face. The force of the blow sent Dawn careening backward to land sprawled out on the floor. The syringes she'd kept hidden until now flew from her hand and rolled across the floor. Markus snatched them up before she had a chance to grab for them. He glanced at them briefly, rolling them through his fingers before he turned his deadly gaze on Dawn. Horrified, Dawn's eyes widened as she stared at the syringes, her only hope of saving Sam, now held firmly in Markus' hand.
"Not a traitor, huh?" He smirked. "Seems as if I understood Father perfectly, doesn't it?"
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"Bobby, don't want you to argue with me about this," John ordered as he dropped Dean down on the seat of his friend's truck. "Take him back to the motel, an' whatever you do, don't untie him yet."
"What about Sam?" Bobby argued, "you need all the help ya can get to get him outta there. Dean can help."
"Not thinkin' Dean will be in too much of a helping mood at the moment," John hissed in anger, remembering how cold his son had been toward him, and how even the mention of Sam made Dean even more furious. "That sonuvabitch turned him against us. An' I'm just not willing to risk everything on the chance that seeing Sam will trigger something inside Dean. You didn't see him, Bobby, he's just too far gone at the moment."
Bobby made as if to argue the point, but after a slight hesitation, he snapped his mouth shut and gave a curt nod. "Alright, I'll take him back to the motel, make sure he can't escape, then come back to join you."
"No," John said with a shake of his head, "you stay with Dean. Already lost him once, not about to leave him unprotected now that I have him back."
"But — "
"Just do like he says," Deacon cut in on the conversation, "we got this covered."
"How have ya got this covered?" Bobby groused as he gestured around at all the other hunters, who were at the moment nursing their various injuries, then returned his attention to John and Deacon. "Pretty much everyone here is hurt in one form or another, an' you're goin' up against trained men who are in a helluva lot better shape than any of you at the moment. You need all the help you can get. Especially if Dominic is there."
"Not gonna be a problem," John stoically assured as he glanced at his truck, "I have a plan." Without giving Bobby anymore chance to argue, John motioned for everyone to get into their vehicles. "Deacon, you come with me," he ordered as he climbed into his vehicle. Shutting the door behind him, he opened the window and called out to Bobby, "Make sure you keep an eye on Dean, an' remember what I said, don't release him until I get back."
Once Deacon was seated beside Ash in the cab of the truck, John hit the gas pedal and peeled out onto the road. Dust kicked up behind them as he hastily picked up speed. From his review mirror, John saw several cars following close behind, and grabbing his walkie-talkie, he jabbed the button. "Ellen, you there?"
After a few moments of static, Ellen's voice came back over the walkie-talkie. "Yeah, John."
"Not gonna bother trying to climb the wall in back, that'll jus' take way too much time."
"So what's you're plan then?" she finally asked after a long pause.
"Let's just say, all hell's about to break loose. I'm done fucking around with these bastards." John threw down his walkie-talkie and gripped a firmer hold on the steering wheel. Pressing down hard on the accelerator, the truck quickly ate up the miles between the two compounds. "Ash, cut the power," John commanded, without taking his sights off the road ahead.
"Gotcha, John," Ash said with a nod, and within a few keystrokes, the light coming from up ahead went out. "Power's cut."
As John pressed harder on the gas pedal, gunning the engine, Deacon gripped hold of the door handle. Up ahead, the front gate of the compound came into view, but instead of slowing down, John pushed the pedal all the way to the floor.
"What the hell are you planning, John?"
"Crashin' the gate," John cast a brief sideways glance in Deacons' direction before retraining his sights on the entrance. "If Dominic already got there, they already know we're comin', so no sense in trying to sneak in."
"Hope to hell you know what you're doing," Deacon grumbled as he loaded his gun then braced himself for the impact.
Stretching out and arm, Deacon held it firmly in front of Ash as they crashed headlong into the gate. Splintered pieces of wood flew threw the air, crashing down on the roof of the truck and tumbling off to the ground around them. The truck skidded sideways in the dirt as John slammed on the brakes, and veering to the right the vehicle rammed into the front of one of the buildings.
Within a heartbeat, John was out of his vehicle, and firing his weapon at the men rushing toward him. His door jammed, Deacon hastily climbed over Ash, and leapt out of the vehicle to follow John.
"Deacon," John shouted above the sounds of gunfire, "weapon's shed." With a quick nod of understanding, Deacon rushed toward the building containing all the cult's weapons.
John didn't have a chance to see if Deacon had made it to the shed as a bullet whizzed by his ear, drawing his attention to three men coming directly toward him. Dropping to the ground, he just barely missed getting struck by another bullet. Another shot had him rolling to the side, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the rest of the hunters rushing forward to join in the fight.
An explosion rocked the earth as the weapon's shed went up in flames. Fire lit up the sky as several smaller explosions followed. Smoke rolled thick and black from the blaze as heated bullets fired from inside the remains of the building. Momentarily distracted by the commotion, John's attackers stopped firing for to stare at the burning inferno. John leapt to his feet, aimed his gun and fired at the man standing closest to him. The gun the man held in his hand, flew from his grip as he clutched a hold of his upper shoulder, blood oozing from beneath his fingertips. With two more bullets spent from John's clip, the other two men fell to their knees.
In the midst of the chaos, John swung just in time to see the Impala heading straight toward him with Dominic behind the wheel. Taking quick aim, he fired, the bullet shattering the front window. Dominic swerved, and just barely missed hitting into John as he dodged out of the way. The cult leader slammed on the brakes, and threw the car in reverse, flooring the engine as he once again tried to run John down. John hastily fired his weapon again, the back window shattering.
John had scarcely managed to sidestep the car when he noticed two more men coming toward him with guns drawn and aimed at his heart. Two simultaneous shots fired and echoed through the night and the men crumpled to the ground, Gordon standing behind them with a satisfied grin on his face. John gave a quick nod of thanks before returning his attention to Dominic.
Once again the Impala was barreling down on him, the madman behind the wheel determined to kill John with his own son's car. With one more shot fired, John ducked inside the nearest building, knowing that Dominic would have to follow on foot if he wanted to finish what he'd started.
"Drop your weapon now," ordered a voice from behind him, and John swung to find a man aiming a gun directly at his chest. From the light of several lit candles, John saw the man was using Billy as a shield. "Drop it now unless you want me to kill you where you stand," he hissed through clenched teeth.
John eyed Billy for a moment, and silently cursed under his breath when he noticed blood dripping from a jagged cut on her cheek and from her lower lip. "Let her go," he said as he trained his gun on the younger man, "she's done nothing to you. Just let her go."
The man's arm around Billy's neck tightened as he pulled her backward, closer to him. "Really? Cause from the way I see things, she's the reason you're here." He brushed his face up against hers, and murmured in her ear, "Isn't that right, Dawn? Told them all about the family so you could save that sonuvabitch?"
"Markus, please," Dawn begged, trembling uncontrollably as tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Course she probably forgot to mention that she's the one who lured him here in the first place." Markus eyed John for a moment and realizing by the expression that briefly flitted across John's face that he hadn't known that, the younger man started to laugh. "Probably also didn't tell you that she's the one who got him hooked on drugs."
Dawn squirmed, trying to break Markus' grip on her, eyes pleading with John to understand that she'd been forced to harm Sam. "Please, you have to understand, I never wanted to hurt Sam," she uttered between sobs, "they made me do it . . . tr-tried to protect him."
From what John had witnessed with Dean, he had no doubt that Billy was telling the truth. She may have very well lured Sam here, and had drugged him, but he couldn't believe in his heart that she'd ever intended to hurt his son. She'd risked everything to find John, even if it meant putting her own life in danger, and he trusted that she truly loved his youngest son.
Out of the corner of his eye, John noticed Deacon slip soundlessly through the back entrance. Slowly, as not to make a sound, he crept closer to Markus, his gun pointed directly at the younger man's back. John seriously doubted his long time friend would actually shoot Markus in the back, but also knew if it meant saving an innocent girl's life, Deacon wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.
"If that's the truth, then what makes you think I won't shoot her to get to you?" John asked, needing to keep Markus' attention diverted from Deacon. His finger tensed on the trigger, brows drawing together as a smirk played across his features. "The way I figure it, you all deserve to die. Every damn one of you."
The cocky smile on Markus' face faltered then disappeared, a worried frown replacing it. Still holding tightly to Dawn, he took several backward steps, bringing him that much closer to where Deacon was. "You wouldn't kill her . . . she doesn't even have a weapon."
"Wanna bet?" John took a deliberate step forward, squeezed the trigger, moving his hand slightly before the bullet left the chamber. As the bullet grazed Markus' arm then ricocheted off the wall, Dawn drew forward, raised her arm and elbowed Markus in the gut.
Not allowing Markus a chance to retaliate, Deacon rushed forward and tackled him to the ground, slamming his fists into the younger man's face as Markus' gun slid across the floor. Markus bucked wildly, dislodging Deacon, and quickly scrambled to his feet, and Deacon followed. Back on their feet, both men circled, vying for an opening shot. Markus swung first, catching Deacon in the lower jaw. Staggering backward briefly, Deacon regained his footing, and rounded on Markus, smashing his fist into the man's stomach. With an expelled rush of breath, Markus flew backward into a table, sending it careening to the ground with a loud clattered.
Before Markus had a chance to regain his footing, John and Deacon both rushed him, Deacon gripping hold of his arms as John cuffed his wrists in a pair of zip-cuffs. Dawn dropped down beside Markus, reached into his pocket and yanked out the syringes he taken from her.
"It's a sedative," she quickly assured as she injected it into the vein in Markus's arm. "Meant to use it on Sam's guards . . . wasn't sure you were gonna make it here, an' I just thought . . . well, I was gonna . . . ." her voice trailed as she looked at John, and he smiled realizing she had planned on taking matters into her own hands to rescue his son.
"Let's get Sam an' get the hell out of here," John said as he helped Dawn to her feet. He turned to look at Deacon, and noticed for the first time that his friend's arm was bleeding and there was a jagged piece of wood protruding out from it. "You okay?"
"Yeah, damn piece of wood caught me in the arm from the blast, probably'll need some stitches, but I'm good."
Without another word, they all headed for the door, and out across the courtyard, watchful for anymore of Dominic's men. Dawn led the way to where Sam was being kept prisoner with John and Deacon close behind her. Amidst the fading sounds of gunfire, they entered the underground bunker. Luckily whoever had been guarding Sam must have left when all the lights had went out and hadn't returned. Once inside, John took the lead down the narrow staircase, wanting to get to Sam first. At the bottom of the darkened stairwell, John and Deacon yanked their flashlights out of their pockets and flipped them on.
"He's in the last cell on the right," Dawn uttered, seeming to realize what John was going to ask even before the words formed on his lips. She grabbed hold of John's arm as he started toward the cell. "Just want you to understand he's in real bad shape . . . I mean, you should be prepared." A single tear slipped down her cheek and she hastily brushed it aside. "Did the best I could, but . . . ."
"Seen him in rough shape before." John tried to force a note of confidence into his voice, but couldn't quite manage it. "He'll be okay, just got to get him out of here."
"Maybe I should go first, John," Deacon offered, a clear note of sadness in his tone,"I mean, well, he's your son an' if he's — "
"No, he's my son," John growled cutting Deacon off. His stomach began to churn violently at the foul smelling stench assailing his senses, and cursed under his breath as he thought of his youngest son being forced to stay in the dark, dank cellar. "He's gonna be fine," he reiterated, although for all his words of reassurance, John couldn't seem to move from his spot. His legs felt like rubber and at the same time felt thick and useless, and vaguely he recalled the last time they had felt like that he'd seen the love of his life pinned to the ceiling burning alive.
With every ounce of sheer strength and willpower he possessed, he pushed himself forward, deeper into the room. As they slowly drew nearer to Sam's prison, John could hear the muffled sounds of his son, and knew Sam was speaking but couldn't make out the words in his ramblings. At the soft scuffling of their shoes against the cold cement floor outside Sam's cell, the youngest Winchester weakly pushed himself backward, butting up against the back of the cage. A cry of pain burst from his cracked and bruised lips as his back made contact with the iron bars, and he squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as another soft cry escaped him.
"Sam . . . Sammy . . . ." John's voice trailed off as took in how badly battered his son was, his fists clenching tightly as he thought of Dominic hurting his child, and vowed to do far worse to the cult leader when he got a hold of him.
Sam quickly buried his head beneath his bare arms, battered and bloodied fingers working their way through his matted hair. "E-evil . . . e-evil," he rasped as he desperately tried to hide himself from John's view. "I-I'm e-evil. D-deserve t-to die."
John's heart caught in his throat, and he was forced to look away for a moment to regain his composure. He swallowed hard several times, feeling the bile rise up from his stomach. Taking a few slow deep breaths, John was finally able to retrain his sights on Sam. "Deacon, go an' find a blanket or somethin' to put around him," he managed to utter, his own voice sounding strained and clipped to his ears.
With a quick nod, Deacon rushed off to find what John asked for, which John was thankful for because at the moment he was having a hell of a time keeping his emotions in check. When Dawn had said Sam was in really bad shape, John had imagined many things, but nothing came even remotely close to what he was seeing now. "Open the damn door so I can get him outta there," he hissed through clenched teeth.
Dawn pulled the key to the cell out of her pocket and hastily opened the door, rushed inside and dropped down beside Sam. After a moment of hesitation, John followed and crouched beside her. Very slowly John reached out to touch his son on the arm, but drew back at the last minute, afraid that he might hurt him even more.
"God, Sam, what the hell did they do to you?" John said in a breathless whisper, tears gathering in his eyes.
"Pl-please . . . jus' . . . jus' leave me alone," Sam glanced at him, eyes pleading with John not to hurt him anymore, and John's heart shattered knowing how completely they had broken his youngest son. "Can't t-take anymore," Sam's voice hitched in his throat as he turned his head slightly to look at Dawn. "Jus' let me d-die, Dawn . . . th-they aren't comin' for me. Da — " he drew in a staggering breath, and grimaced, closing his eyes tightly as he began to shake uncontrollably. "Told ya . . . m-my Dad w-wouldn't c-come for me. N-never c-cared . . . ."
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