Salvation By Ebunni Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter 21

So reviews will make me pump these chapters out quicker.

It had been well over an hour now that was as long as Sam was willing to give Dean. Usually after that time frame his older brother would contact him or come back home, or to whatever motel they were staying in at the time. Sam understood he needed time to cool his head, but now that time had been and gone, and was pushing on two hours. Panic had abated and been replaced with anger only for that to melt in to concern.

'He still hasn't come back yet? Or called you?' Bobby was standing in the doorframe, leaning against it with a solemn look on his face, the two had had it out with each other within the tense hour, yelled it through and set things straight. Bobby had promised to never bring up the likes of his suggestion ever again; Sam had made damn sure of that.

'No, I don't think he could call me even if he wanted to. Can't see the numbers and I haven't had the chance to help him work the audio or voice activation on his new phone yet. Jesus Bobby, who knows whose car that, was!' Sam had been beating himself up for letting Dean go, and now it was coming back to kick him in the teeth.

A vibrating broke through his senses though and he reached in to his pocket and pulled out his phone, seeing a number he didn't recognise he was a little reluctant to answer but did held it to his ear nonetheless. 'Hello?'

'Sam?' He stood straight immediately. That voice was familiar; he just needed to put a name to it. 'It's Sarah; I am one your brother's rehabilitation doctors.'

'Oh yeah Sarah hi, sorry my brother said you gave him permission to leave early. Is everything okay?' Sam's brow wrinkled in confusion, wherever Sarah was it was busy and loud. A lot of voices and sounds were beeping in the background, making it hard for him to focus on what she was saying.

'No, I mean yeah he was allowed to leave early. But that's not why I am calling –.' Sam picked up on the hesitation immediately and began to pace back and forth on the front patio, ignoring the silent pleas for information coming from Bobby.

'Sarah?' The background noise was becoming a large distraction as he awaited the reply from Dean's doctor.

'Ah yeah sorry I'm here. Is there any chance you could come back to the hospital, I need to speak with you in person. Please?'

'Yeah sure I will be there as soon as I can; look does this have anything to do with my brother? Is he okay?' Sam hoped to get something more out of the phone call but Sarah simply told him to come as soon as possible and hung up, leaving him edgy and nervous. This couldn't be a good thing.

Pushing past Bobby he grabbed the Impala's keys and felt a little better when he sunk in to the driver's seat and let the rumble of the engine work a little of her magic on him. God would Dean have a field day if he knew about this… Putting her in reverse he pulled out down the drive and sped towards the hospital.

Sarah was sitting up with the support of three pillows, wishing the emergency room lights weren't so goddamn bright, the throbbing behind her eyes had been building gradually since she had first woken up; at least the room had decided to stop spinning for her though. The doctor had been in five minutes ago and told her about the concussion, the swelling in her brain and that they would be admitting her for overnight observation. In other words she was facing a sleepless and painful night.

Swelling had already set in along her jaw, and the skin felt tight and pulled on the stitches in her hairline, making her wince whenever she spoke or opened her mouth too wide. The phone call to Sam had been a trial and error sort of thing; she tested her limits and speech ability. Needless to say, she hadn't lasted too long.

'Betty!' Sarah called out, grimacing a little but managing to catch the young nurse's attention. 'I am expecting a Sam Singer to come in and see me, it's urgent so when he arrives could you please bring him straight through?' Betty nodded and turned to go, but Sarah called her back. 'Did Gary say anything about pain medication by any chance?'

'Sarah you should know better than to mix certain pain medication with a concussion. We can't let you get too sleepy, sorry Sarah.' The young nurse walked away with a sad smile after patting her on the leg.

There wasn't a long wait before Sam's hulking frame was making its way towards her bed; Betty was practically drooling on him as she directed the attractive young man to her cubicle. Imagine if she saw Dean… Sarah smirked, that man sure had a way on women. It must run in the family she thought, imagining what their parents looked like. They must have been a handsome couple to create such beautiful offspring.

'Sam hi, thanks so much for coming so quickly!' She exclaimed, smiling a little too widely and groaning in pain. Whoever hit her on the head sure deserved what he had coming when the police tracked him down. She would make sure he suffered herself if need be. Reaching for the ice pack recently disposed of on the bedside counter she pressed it against her swollen jaw and sighed.

Sam was standing beside the bed looking like a lost puppy, mouth in a thin line of worry as his eyes cast over her head and stitches, took in the swelling and all the monitors in the room. There was definitely something not right about these brothers, with their eyes like hawks.

'Do you know where my brother is?' Sarah hadn't expected those to be his first words, but wasn't all together surprised at the same time.

'I did, but now I really don't know.' Sarah felt tears well up in her eyes; she didn't know why she was so upset. Probably because she felt like it was her fault Dean had gone missing on her watch. She should never have taken him away from safety. Whatever that may be classed as.

'What happened? Start at the beginning, the little things could be the most important.' Sam sank in the guest chair, pulling a notepad and chewed ballpoint pen from the inside pocket of his jacket. Have they been through something like this before? Baffled, Sarah sat there mutely for a minute, struggling to find words in all this mess. Her head was aching, making it hard to focus.

'I found Dean a little away from what I assume was your house, and he looked like a mess so I picked him up, he practically begged me too. He tried to talk me in to taking him to a motel and leaving him there, but I refused so he settled for a drink and some lunch.' Sarah took a deep breath, Sam's stare was piercing, but she hadn't missed the flicker of hurt that made them wince a little when she mentioned the hotel. 'Everything seemed fine, apart from this man but I don't know….' She drifted off, pressing the icepack against her stitches.

'What did he look like?' Sam asked, clearly interested.

'Uh, tall and really severe looking you know? Some people just have that mean look about them, and he was uh, this sounds so racist, but he was black, which I think made him look all the more menacing then he already did. He barely took his eyes off Dean the whole time we were there.' Sarah took in a deep shaky breath, Sam looked stricken and panicked at her admission but he hadn't said anything so she went on. 'Dean wanted to leave suddenly, realising he should stop you from worrying, so we stood to leave and I helped him outside, and then the man called out his name but used a different last name; Winchester? Does that make any sense to you?'

'No that uh, makes no sense at all. How strange, but I think I know the man you are talking about.' Sam's mind was ticking over; he needed to work out a way to word this without arising any sort of suspicion from Sarah, not that she wouldn't already be, what with being there when Dean had been taken. Gordon Walker was as shady as they came. He had also become their number one enemy.

'Is Dean in danger?' Sarah asked quietly from the bed, her face crestfallen.

'Yeah I think so…' Sam didn't see the point in hiding the truth; Sarah was already too involved in this.

'I am so sorry, this is my entire fault; if I had just driven Dean home… None of this would have happened.' Sam felt a little uncomfortable as Sarah began to cry, he watched as tears slid down her cheeks. Shifting in his seat, he coughed and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving it a pat.

'It's okay, I am sure this would have happened no matter what. If anything I should be apologising to you for getting stuck in the middle of all this.' Sam didn't exactly mean those words, but if it stopped the woman from crying then he was willing to throw anything out there. 'Uh I am really sorry Sarah, but I need to get out there and look for my brother, this man is big trouble. Thank you for taking the time to take care of my brother after our fight.' Sam stood up and gave Sarah another non-committal pat before leaving quickly, finding comfort and solace again from the Impala.

Cold shakes brought Dean back to consciousness, his head ached and his skin was coated with goose-bumps, the only warmth he had to rely on right now was the sticky blood that was oozing down his cheek from the hairline laceration. Trying to stop his teeth from chattering loudly, Dean struggled to draw in deep, even breaths. He imagined if he could see, then his breath would be coming out in small puffs of condensation.

Focusing his hearing, Dean tried in vain to make out any noise he might recognise, that would help him make sense of what was happening around him, where he was. But the only sound was his breathing and chattering teeth.

'Dean Winchester, the man who left me tied to a chair for three days.' Gordon Walker's voice rang out through the room, it had a small echo in the background, alerting Dean to the fact that he must be in a large room, a warehouse maybe. 'Huh, you can't even look at me can you?' He snorted derisively, 'maybe the guilt?'

'Funny pun there- asshole!' Dean spat snidely, turning his head wildly in hope he was somehow looking at Gordon. A sharp slap made his body shrink back, his shackled hands pulled taut against the chains, feet scuffing across the ground. He felt his blind eyes dart around in vain.

Another slap struck him again; he was over not seeing the hits coming. He had no time to roll with them, tense his body in response to the violent actions. Gordon kept sending them coming until finally his fingers wrapped tightly around his jaw, crushing his cheekbones with his vice like grip. Dean tried not to look around too much, or show how nervous he felt. The only noise in the room was his hitched breathing and Gordon's sneering breaths, hot on his face.

'Why aren't you looking at me?' Gordon waved a hand in front of Dean's face, drew it back and moved to strike the boy but there was no reaction. He smirked, and studied his face more intently. There were scars around his eyes, and for the first time he realised how blank and pale the infamous green orbs had become.

'This is just gold, how could I not know this?' Gordon's lips curled in to a smile. This could be so much fun. Walking away, he turned back around and glanced at Dean who was looking around wildly, his smile just widened, meeting his eyes with glee. Focusing his full attention back at the table he was now standing in front of, Gordon picked up a serrated knife.

For a minute Gordon just stood there, fingering the knife silently as he contemplated his next move. The whole idea of taking Dean was to seek vengeance on the man for leaving him tied to a chair for three days straight, letting the vampires escape and mocking him over it. He had planned on indulging himself in torturing the hunter, making him suffer the same pain and injury he had gone through in those three horrible days. He had been left pray to whatever came across him in the small house in the middle of nowhere.

Between rope burns, cramps and defecation, Gordon planned on inducing as much agony on the kid as he could. But now, things were changing and cogs were turning in his brain. Without his sight, the older Winchester would be helpless against anything Gordon had to throw at him. And that was the most tantalising thing of it all, the shock and surprise of pain.

'Oh Dean, you messed with the wrong person. This is going to be so much fun.' Gordon turned and faced the disabled hunter, using his own stealth skills to be as silent as he could. He raised the knife and stopped just short of Dean, hand widths away from his face; so close he could smell the coppery tang of blood as it leaked from his hairline. Holding his breath he raised the knife for the first entrance of the blade, and pressed it suddenly and violently in to the soft skin of the hunters exposed clavicle.

Dean's scream was music to Gordon's ears; he smiled as he twisted the knife inside the tattered flesh, rotating the serrated knife constantly as he slowly withdrew it from the wound. Slowly opening his eyes, savouring the sweet sound of the knife suctioning against the pull of skin, he grinned wider at the look on Dean's face. The look of complete lack of control as sweat ran down his face, blind eyes darting around wildly and his lips pressed in to a thin line to contain any more threats of a scream.

Blood was running thickly down Dean's chest, drenching the thin material around his naval. Gordon had been standing there for five minutes just watching, waiting. Finally the moment arrived when Dean visibly deflated where he hung, letting all the tension leave his body. Smirking, Gordon shook his head and wiped the knife across his sleeve. Holding his breath, he made sure Dean wasn't aware of his continued presence and slammed the knife in to the opposite clavicle. The knife tilted as it cracked against the bone, drawing out a long groan of pain from its victim. But still no desired scream, making Gordon force the knife deeper as he listened to the sharpened steel grind against bone. Dean simply groaned in pain.

The joy was wearing off quickly. Pulling the knife out with a grunt Gordon punched Dean in the stomach several fast times winding his victim. He would need something new now that the thrill of unexpected attacks had worn off; he had been hoping they would last longer. But the one time would have to do, that scream was enough to make him want more.

Panting heavily through the pain, Dean struggled to keep a hat on the pain and make sure he didn't give Gordon the satisfaction. The first scream had escaped unbidden but had helped him all the same, with that he had been able to muster the energy not to scream. Where is Sammy?

As much as Dean didn't want Sammy anywhere near this maniac who had used his little brother as a real life diagram on Vampiric instincts, which had led them to this situation in the first place; Dean had enough common sense to know he wasn't getting out of here without any help. Plus his mind kept going back to Sarah, seeing her hit the ground with blood running down her face quickly before his own lights clocked out for the day.

Shifting his weight on the chains, he quickly regretted the move as pain shot through his collarbones, especially the one that had the knife mark engraved deep in the bone. Dean cursed Gordon inwardly over that, he had almost lost the plot completely then and screamed every obscenity under the blue moon at him.

He had no idea what Gordon was planning now; the suspension was driving him insane. If the mad man wanted him dead then he should just get it over with. Dean never understood the moment of prolonging ones death. It was a useless and sadistic, most of the ghost they put down was men who had killed like that and held on to life by some sick thread after their death.

'If you're going to kill me can you just get it over and done with already?' Dean ground out, trying in vain to show some sign of bravado, but his voice betrayed him instead coming out weak and shaky from pain and blood loss.

'That's what I thought on the third day, when I watched the sky turn to dusk from my seat by the window, by that time I was so weak from hunger and dehydration I could barely lift my head from exhaustion, and the blood loss…' Gordon drifted off and looked down at the rope burn scars on his wrists; they had bled slowly for the three days he had struggled against them.

'I plan on making sure you suffer just as much as I did for those three days.' His fist struck Dean in the cheek, and he felt the pleasure of the bone cracking beneath his weight. Not a full break, but it was enough to make the blind eyes water.

'Dude I tied you to a chair, I could have left you there but I didn't. Some of us don't stoop so low in life.' Dean spat, wincing at the pain in his cheek. Gordon reached out and pressed his thumb against the bone and pressed down until Dean was grinding his teeth against the pain.

'Some people don't take too kindly to being tied to a chair in the middle of fucking nowhere for three days before someone has to come and rescue them.' Gordon growled back, hitting him again.

'How's your brother by the way? Maybe when I am done here I will pay him a little visit. Did he stick with you after you lost your sight, or did he abandon you just like your daddy did?' He taunted Dean, hoping to get a rise but the skilled young hunter kept his mouth shut tightly, teeth still slightly ground together from rage and pain. Even from where he stood, a few feet away now back by his weapons; Gordon could see the sweat running down Dean's face.

'You touch him and I will find a way to come back from the grave and haunt your ass until you die painfully!' Dean growled, thrashing against the chains again, he didn't care about the pain. Whenever someone taunted him over his brother he lost all control. It was a weakness, he knew, but that didn't stop him from reacting to it every time Sammy was used against him.

'Bit of a tender spot there huh, boy left you again did he?' Gordon walked back over with a new knife now; he drew it across the fractured cheek bone and smiled as a thin line of blood was left in the tip of the blades wake. Dean tensed up as the knife moved across his neck and rested atop the fabric of his undershirt. Already soaked through with the blood from the wounds in his collarbones, it clung to his clammy skin. Gordon made quick work of the shirt, cutting it down the middle so it hung from Dean's shoulders.

'Worked out how much of a dead weight you are, how much trouble comes with being around you.' Gordon pulled the shirt completely back and pressed the knife between the two lower ribs, just underneath the lung. 'Isn't that what happened Dean? Why else would you be alone with some woman in a bar at this time of the day, drowning away those lonely sorrows?' Before he could get a response, he plunged the knife in, giving it a final twist before pulling it out.

Standing back and studying his handy work, Gordon nodded appreciatively. This would be enough, tears were running down Dean's cheeks now and his skin was so pale from blood loss that there were freckles standing out on his cheeks. He wasn't even sure if he was conscious or not. He didn't care either way. Packing up his knives and other equipment he stuffed them inside his duffel. Moving over to the opposite wall of the warehouse he dragged across a heavy hose and turned it on full force, directing it at Dean's body.

Startling awake at the merciless hands of the cold high pressured water, Dean sputtered and gasped his way back to reality. His muscles cramped up immediately from the shock, causing him more pain. 'Hope you don't rot too quickly Winchester.'

I do so love leaving you all with a cliff hanger. Please review!

Chapter 21

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