Chapter Seven
"Eureka!"
Dean jumped up at the triumphant cry and ran to where Ash was sitting. Standing behind the MIT drop-out, Dean stared at the picture on the screen.
It was Sam. He was sure of it. It just had to be.
John had given Ash a photo of Sam to use as a reference while he searched and it appeared to have paid off.
"Dad! Come here! Dad!" Dean shouted in Ash's ear and John came running.
John let out a breath and peered at the photograph. He'd know his son anywhere. That was Sam.
Dean frowned; Sam looked a little pale and his green eyes glared hatred at whoever had snapped his picture but what disturbed Dean the most was the fact that someone had shaved his brother's head.
Dean stared at Sam's nearly bald scalp and felt tears well up in his eyes. Sam never let anyone touch his hair. Even when John had demanded Sam cut it short like Dean's, he'd refused as though it would mean the end of the world if he so much as had it trimmed.
Dean clenched his hands into fists. His eyes flicked to the writing that was beneath his brother's picture.
"What is that?" he asked Ash. He recognized his brother's height and weight, and had his approximate age. There was also something that looked like a serial number and Sam's blood type.
"Sam's specs," Ash explained, "Everything about him that would interest a buyer."
Dean gulped, "Buyer?"
Ash peered over his shoulder at Dean, "Yeah, okay, the way it works is like this: some rich guy is dying of lung cancer or something and so he finds this website- cleverly disguised as a vacuum sales ad- where he can look at all the kids he can choose from and get himself a brand new set of lungs."
Ash moved away from Sam's picture to land on a girl- her head was also shaved- with blue eyes.
"Wait, how many people do they have?" Dean asked, horrified.
"Well, you see this?" Ash pointed beneath the girl's specs to the word TERMINATED in red font.
"Uh huh," Dean said, not liking where this was going.
"This means that she's dead," Ash said solemnly.
"So what do they do? Pick out a kid and what, have their organs shipped by FedEx?" John asked.
"Nothing that shady," Ash responded, "No, apparently they can 'window shop' if they want. I'm pretty sure that means they can take a look at the kids personally."
"Oh my God," Dean muttered and put his fist against his mouth, bile rising in his throat.
"Well, do you know where it is?" John asked and Ash frowned.
"Uh, no," he admitted, "But I'm getting there."
John turned away and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.
Dean pushed Ash's fingers out of the way and returned to the picture of his brother.
"We're almost there, man," Ash told him, "We'll get him."
Dean nodded; the sight of Sam with his hair chopped off made his throat tighten. He turned away and went to John.
The older Winchester was breathing heavily and Dean knew he was trying to hold back his own tears.
"Dad? Dad! We're going to get Sammy," Dean said in the same authoritative voice John often used when he needed his sons to obey an order without question.
John nodded and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
"I, uh, I have to go call Deke," he muttered and left the main room.
Dean was left standing alone and hoping that he wouldn't be seeing TERMINATED below his brother's specs anytime soon.
W
Dean startled awake, a sorrowful cry on his lips dying as soon as he opened his eyes. It was dark and quiet in the motel room. The only sounds were Dean's own harsh breathing. The last vestiges of a nightmare drifted away from Dean like so much smoke and he was left with only an uneasy feeling in his stomach.
Sitting up, Dean wiped a hand over his sweaty face and squinted across the room to where John should be sleeping in his own bed.
"Dad?" Dean called quietly, needing some comfort from his father.
There was no reply from the older Winchester. Dean peered at the red numbers of the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand between the beds and saw it was only two-thirty in the morning.
Dean reached out behind himself and grabbed his brother's duffel.
"Don't worry, Sammy," he mumbled as he hugged the bag to his chest, "We're going to find you. Just hang in there a little longer."
Dean closed his eyes while his heart beat returned to its normal pace and then called to his father again.
"Dad?"
John didn't so much as grunt sleepily in annoyance.
"Dad? You there?" Dean asked and reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. Yellow light washed the two beds in a radiant pool but it was clear that the eldest Winchester was absent.
Dean looked over his shoulder towards the bathroom but the door stood ajar, the room dark.
"Dad!" Dean cried and stood up quickly, even though it obvious his father wasn't in the motel room.
The young man stumbled toward the front door but paused when he spotted a page from the motel's stationary sitting on the table, weighted down with a beer bottle.
Gone to see a friend. She'll be able to tell us about Sam. Don't try to follow me.
Dean grabbed the paper and crumbled it up, "Fuck!"
He went to the window and saw that the Impala was missing from its parking spot.
"FUCK!" Dean shouted and ran a hand through his hair.
Rifling through his own duffel bag, he grabbed his phone and hit John's number on speed-dial.
The eldest Winchester's phone rang and rang and rang. Dean hung up.
What are you doing, Dad? Dean thought angrily. You need to be here! Not going out on some social call! You need to be here for Sam!
With nothing to do this early in the morning, Dean went back to his bed and sat down. He pulled Sam's duffel onto his lap and stared at his father's empty bed until the sun began to rise in the east.
SPN
Two days before John Winchester took leave of his eldest son for the home of an unknown friend, Doctor Arthur Bates stood behind the one-way mirror with his most recent client. Mr. Pettigrew was in his seventies and in need of a kidney. He was far too impatient to wait for a proper donor because his advanced age made him less of a priority than other people with renal failure.
"They are all a match to you," Bates flourished a hand at the five young men and women beyond the mirror. The room was bare of furniture; its floors were white tiles, and its walls were a dusty grey.
Four of the young people were sitting, their eyes downcast and sad. The only one on his feet was M-BSPN666. He was staring daggers at the two hidden men and Bates had the odd feeling that the boy knew exactly what they were discussing.
"They are kind of sickly looking, Doctor," Pettigrew complained and Bates bristled.
"I assure you they are all in perfect health," he contested.
Pettigrew rubbed his chin, "I won't have any unpleasant surprises with them, will I?"
"Unlike my competitors I do not have prostitutes and junkies snatched off the streets," Bates said smugly, "That is why you came to me, is it not?"
Pettigrew nodded, "You did show the best product. I wouldn't trust a kidney from some wino."
"You see!" Bates spread his hands, smiling, "Now, which do you prefer?"
Pettigrew peered myopically through the glass. He saw the boy that had first caught his attention when he had been perusing the display on the Internet.
"I like him," the old man pointed at the boy with green eyes who had been taken from Kettering.
"That'll be twenty grand," Bates said calmly.
"Twenty thousand for one kidney!" Pettigrew exclaimed indignantly, "That's outrageous!"
Bates didn't even blink. He knew that the old coot had more than enough money.
"Mr. Pettigrew, in my line of work you quickly find out that if you buy cheap you get cheap."
"Besides," Bates continued, "He is a universal donor and as such, a rarity. I require compensation should something go wrong during the surgery."
Grumbling about the extreme prices, Pettigrew fished his checkbook out and scrawled one out to Bates.
The doctor smirked, "If I am too expensive for you, feel free to have your name added to a hospital wait-list."
Pettigrew glared at Bates but said nothing.
"When can I expect my kidney?" he demanded rudely.
"I can do the surgery in a matter of hours and the kidney should be in the hospital of your choice by tomorrow morning," Bates informed him.
That seemed to brighten Pettigrew up somewhat and he shook Bates' hand.
"Pleasure doing business with you," the doctor said and showed his client the way out. The only thing on Bates' mind that evening was the ten thousand dollar check tucked away in his pocket- a small percent of which would be destined for William Findlay but the rest was solely his- and the thought of just how much money M-BSPN666 could really get him.
SPN
Sam knew something was different the moment the orderlies dragged him into the operating room.
Instead of just one additional nurse there were four and Bates seemed even more excited than usual.
"What's going on? What are you going to do?" Sam asked, unable to hide the fear in his voice.
Bates smiled at him from beneath his paper mask. Sam balked and tried to pry himself free of the orderlies' hold.
He's going to kill me, Sam thought; this is it. He's going to put that mask over my face and I'll never wake up again.
"Get him on the table," Bates instructed the orderlies, "And make sure he is lying on his side."
Sam struggled as much as he could, kicking at the orderlies' shins and punching out with his fists.
"No! No! Don't do this! Leave me alone! Please don't kill me!" Sam begged and Bates paused, chuckling.
"Silly boy," he chastised, "I have no intentions of killing you. All that is going to happen is that you will wake up slightly lighter than before."
That did nothing to ease Sam's panic and he thrashed wildly. Tears streamed down his face as the orderlies heaved him up onto the table and rolled him onto his right side.
Once Sam was strapped securely to the table, Bates approached him, holding his glove-clad hands up high.
"Please," Sam begged, vision blurry with tears, "I don't want this. Please don't hurt me anymore."
Bates grabbed the gas mask and pushed it down over Sam's mouth and nose. Sam tried holding his breath, anything to stop from passing out but one of the nurses appeared with a needle. She put a restraining hand on Sam's arm- already pinned by the straps holding him down- and injected him with anesthetic.
Sam's vision grew bright and Doctor Bates appeared to have a corona of light around his head. Suddenly dark spots appeared in Sam's vision and grew larger and larger until they completely blinded him.
SPN
Dean trudged dejectedly up the porch steps and walked into the Roadhouse.
Ash was already sitting at a table, laptop in front of him and beer in hand.
"Want one?" the young man asked Dean and after consulting his watch- it wasn't even eight o'clock- he nodded.
"What the heck?" he shrugged and sat down as Ash got him a brew.
"Where's your Dad?" Ash asked as he handed Dean his beer.
The young hunter shrugged, "Who knows? He left a note this morning saying he was going to see some friend. Stole the car too. Had to take a cab here."
Ash frowned in sympathy, "That's a big bummer."
Dean smiled sadly, "You said it."
After taking a deep drink of beer, he asked if Ash had any luck in locating the organ harvesters.
The ex-MIT student shook his head, "Nothing so far. But I'm still looking. If other assholes can find this place, than I can too."
Dean hoped that Ash would be able to find where Sam was and they weren't just on some wild goose chase.
"Is he still-" Dean stopped and Ash looked up.
"Sam's still in the game," he answered quietly and turned his laptop around so that Dean could see the photograph of his brother, no TERMINATED sign beneath his specs.
Dean wasn't sure how long people like that kept their victims. Surely it wouldn't be indefinitely, he guessed until they found someone who needed a major organ. Dean hoped that no rich snob needed a heart or liver.
He stared at the scarred wooden tabletop, imagining what could be happening to his brother and not liking any of it.
The sound of Ash clearing his throat brought Dean back from his morbid thoughts.
The techie was holding his beer bottle up, "Here's to finding Sam."
Dean grimaced and clinked his bottle against Ash's. He didn't want to jinx it but he amended Ash's toast to the hope of finding Sam alive.
Author's Note:
1. Thanks to SPN Mum, mandancie, MysteryMadchen, cold kagome, Samstruck, L.A.H.H, Sparkiebunny, SamDeanLover28, SUPERNATANGEL67, reannablue, Jeanny, BranchSuper, judyann, and doyleshuny for reviewing.
2. Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed, and favourited this story.
3. Please take a moment to leave a review.