Disclaimer: This is as much mine as my computer is stable...

A/N: Ha!! Told ya! I told you all! It's like Old Faithful, except slightly less predictable. My oh so lovely computer crashed. Zap! Everything gone. Thankfully it was a relatively slow crash, so I was able to save some, but not nearly everything. Which sucks. I've got my computer back online, and, so you all don't go too long without a one shot, I've stolen a one shot that I wrote for a different site, and am posting it here for you all to enjoy. It's very limp!Sam, so fans of that may like it. Anyways, this poor writer is going to continue trying to salvage what's left of my computer. Enjoy!
(another note... this story takes place during season 2, though I stupidly have our boys with the colt and apparently an extra bullet. Haha... just ignore that little oopsie)

Title: Bloody Hell
Genre: Suspense, and a lot of fricken angst.
Summary: Sam is taken by a vampire and wakes up by himself in an old, abandoned house. After Dean comes to the hunter's rescue, it's a frantic race to figure out where the missing vampire is, and if he changed Sam into one of them...

Bloody Hell

"It's like Murphy's Law," Dean mussed as he hugged the wall of the back alley they were in, "We never saw one of these damn things until Dad mentions them."

"Well he thought vampires were extinct too," Sam rationalized, mirroring his brother's position, "I guess they just all decided to come out once they realized that Yellow Eyes started up the game again."

"A game?" Dean turned harshly to Sam, "This isn't a game dude, we're hunting--"

"Cool it Dean," Sam interrupted, "We don't have time to get into an argument right now."

Dean bit back a retort and continued his way down the alley with a machete in hand. It was nearly two in the morning, and the two had followed a vampire named Sebastian for nearly six hours. Finally they'd tracked him down to their current location, and knowing that the alley lead to a dead end, a fight was seemingly inevitable. Silence washed around the brother's as they went completely stealth and crept deeper into the alley.

Something seemed to move in the shadows to their right, and Sam gently placed a hand on Dean's shoulder to get his attention. Startled, Dean swung around, his eyes wide momentarily until he registered that it had just been Sam, and consequently shot a look at him that spelt ultimate doom later. A small smile snuck onto the younger brother's face at this before he got serious again and pointed towards where he saw something move.

Dean nodded, and held out his machete more. The alley was dark, and though both Winchester hunter's had the ability to move gracefully and soundlessly, a clumsy moment was bound to always happen at the worst possible time. It happened loudly this time as Dean bumped into a garbage can sending a loud chain reaction clatter of noise to erupt the silent air.

"Dean!" Sam cried out in shock.

"Sammy, move it!" Dean shouted out as another bang came from something moving quickly towards them.

Sam didn't have time to respond or even look for the vampire as his consciousness ended abruptly with a solid crack to his head from behind.

-§-

Coming to a conscious state was one of the most difficult things that Sam had done in a long time, and almost immediately he regretted it. A pounding beat vibrated through his head in time with his heartbeat that caused the hunter to lean forward and get sick on the floor beside him. It was at this movement that Sam realized he was tied to a chair, and was unable to move anything but his head.

"Oh God…" Sam whispered, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain as he leaned his head down against his chest.

A small trickle of blood rolled down from Sam's forehead and made it's way down his face. Unwilling to endure the pain of moving his head again, Sam simply opened his eyes and watched as the droplets of blood fell heavily onto his lap. A small, fleeting feeling of panic swept through Sam at the sight of older blood stained on not only his pants, but his shirt as well, but quickly he decided he didn't care. The pain quickly took hold of Sam once again as he fell into a world of black.

The next time Sam awoke, a strong sun beam shone in from a broken window behind him. He seemed to not have been moved at all as Sam could feel the dried blood mixed with fresh still working its way down his face. The pain still pulsated through Sam's head and the rest of his body, though it wasn't nearly as bad as earlier, Sam realized, as he attempted to look around.

"Dean…" Sam's throat felt raw and painful as his hazed eyes stared around, "Dean!"

The energy of yelling his brother's name drained Sam as he struggled to see the entire room. The broken window behind him served as a helper as the light bounced off the walls. The chair he was tied in was against the longer side of the rectangle room that was no more than fifteen feet long, and six or seven feet across. Everything was made of rotting wood that looked like a good wind would blow down, and dust layered the small table that sat in one corner as well as the wooden floor. An obviously broken light hung halfway down the ceiling, and his neck and head screaming out in pain, Sam managed to turn his head around to see two windows covering the wall he was seated against. A door sat on the far right wall, and Sam watched it a moment, expecting someone to come in.

"Sebastian left me," Sam grunted as he squeezed his eyes shut in the pain of moving his body, "…why would he leave me…"

Slowly Sam's heartbeat quickened, bringing with it a deeper pounding in his head and the feeling that he was once again going to be sick. The wonder and worry of what had happened to him was nothing, at that point, compared to the immense, sickening panic of where Dean was and if he was ok. The more Sam thought about this, the more his body hurt, and soon, once again, the Winchester was unconscious. The pattern continued on for the rest of the day. Sometimes Sam would manage to stay awake for over an hour, and other times only long enough to give him a brief glimpse of his prison.

Soon it came to the point when Sam opened his eyes, and there was no longer a beam of light shinning through. Darkness had once again stolen Sam's world, and his body began to feel other pains than the ones he'd started with. Jabbing cramps shot through his legs and arms as a result of their being held in the same position for so long, and thirst was beginning to become a problem as the taste of blood in Sam's mouth was beginning to cause his stomach to dry heave. Refusing to roll back into unconsciousness though, Sam forced himself to stay awake. He'd tried feebly to get out of the ropes before, and didn't particularly want to try anymore as the pain of moving any limb caused his head to spin violently. Instead Sam opted for watching the light fade more and more until just a dim haze crept into the room. Sam's most keen sense, his hearing, kicked in as his sight was limited to a mere foot in front of him, and it had only been a half hour of listening before he heard something.

"He's back," Sam whispered, his first instinct being that Sebastian had returned.

The noise was getting closer, and Sam could hear the person opening and closing doors off in the distance.

"…Sam!…"

Sam's heart leapt into his throat at the shout of his name. The voice was one he knew he'd recognize until the day he died as being Dean's. Struggling to swallow the dry taste in his mouth and to get enough air in his lungs, Sam stared towards where the door was and yelled.

"Dean! Dean!"

Quick movement was followed by a loud slam of the door being opened. A beam of light from a flashlight was shinned directly in Sam's face and he was forced to close his eyes and turn his head away.

"Oh God, Sammy," Dean gasped, making it to Sam in one large lunge.

Sam smiled weakly as he stared at Dean a moment. Dean on the other had looked more terrified than Sam had ever seen him, and fumbled quickly to stick his flashlight into his mouth and reach into his pocket for a knife. Working frantically, Dean cut loose Sam's arms, to which the younger brother let out a cry of pain at the movement. Silent tears fell down Dean's face as he moved to Sam's legs and did the same thing which resulted in a similar whimper of pain. The rope which was wrapped tightly around Sam's chest and torso was easily taken off now, and thankfully didn't seem to cause too much pain to Sam.

"Ok, ok…" Dean gasped lightly as he placed a supporting hand behind Sam's head, "It's going to be ok Sammy. I'm going to help you up now, and we're going to go to the hospital."

"No," Sam slowly shook his head.

"Yes," Dean spoke sternly, "Sam you're… I can fix all of this."

A thought that had been pulsing through Sam's brain now came out in words, "No Dean… he left me."

"So?" Dean was bent down now, trying to get a better look at where the blood was coming from.

Sam's voice shook, "…I think… maybe…"

A horrified expression emerged through Dean's features as he stared into Sam's eyes, and spoke at nearly a whisper, "Sam did he change you?"

Sam remained silent.

"Sam!"

"I don't know," Sam's dry mouth was making each word harder and harder to get out, "…I don't know Dean."

"Come on," Dean's urgency was back in full force now, "We have to go. I'll take you back to the hotel, and if it looks really bad, you are going to a hospital."

Sam wordlessly agreed and prepared himself for the searing pain that would happen when he was forced to his feet. He wasn't disappointed as when Dean grabbed under his arms and pulled him up, Sam nearly collapsed straight down to the ground.

"Damn it Sam," Dean cried out, "Maybe I should call--"

"No," Sam interrupted as he used Dean's body to pull himself fully up.

"You're a stubborn bastard," Dean accused, anger laced in his voice as he took a small step with Sam clutched in his arms.

Sam forced a smile onto his face as they moved carefully and slowly across the room. By the time they got outside and to the Impala, Sam felt as if he was going to be sick again, and wanted to smack Dean up side the head for his constant brooding. It had taken a fair amount of time to get to the vehicle, and by now the sun had completely set, and the inky sky was splashed with stars.

"Do you want me to grab a blanket or something?" Dean questioned as he opened up the passenger door for Sam.

"No," Sam shook his head, willing his stomach not to dry heave all over the interior of the car.

Not that Dean was too worried about his upholstery, Sam realized, as the moment Sam sat down in the seat with a groan of pain, he was sure that blood was staining his precious Impala. Sam could almost visually see the conflict happening in Dean as they made their way back to the hotel. On one hand the older brother wanted to drive as fast as he could to get there quickly, and yet he didn't want to drive too quickly in fear of jostling Sam around painfully.

"You good?" Dean questioned five minutes into the trip.

"Uh huh."

The lack of a proper response caused Dean to press down even harder on the accelerator, and less than five minutes later, he'd pulled to a stop outside a shanty motel. Quickly Dean opened the door and rounded to the passenger side. Opening it up, Dean carefully took hold of Sam and helped him into a standing position.

"You ok?" Dean asked softly.

"Never better," Sam groaned, surprised by the fact that his stomach wasn't rolling anymore, though his head continued to thump in beat with his heart.

Crossing the ten feet to the door they were parked in front of, Dean pulled out the key, went inside and turned on the main overhead light. Carefully he helped Sam into a sitting position on the nearest bed and swallowed hard at the state he appeared in the light.

"Alright," Dean swallowed the lump of fear in his throat, "I'm going to take the car and run down to the drug store to grab some things. I want you to try and take off as much clothing as possible so that I can tell what's wrong when I get back. I'll have my cell on me."

"I think I can manage," Sam spoke dryly at Dean's fussing.

Dean gave one last sparing look towards Sam before leaving and locking the door behind him. Sam knew that they had been short on medical supplies, and figured he must look pretty bad if it warranted Dean leaving him behind to get some more things. Taking a few moments to simply relax, Sam then decided to start on the task of taking off his stained clothing.

It wasn't a simple nor easy request, as much of Sam's clothing was soaked in blood, and stuck painfully to open wounds on his body. It took nearly five minutes just to remove the two shirts that Sam had on, and by the time he finished this, his breath was coming in sharp gasps. Not wanting to pass out again or get sick, Sam moved in quick motion to take off his shoes, socks and jeans so that finally he was sitting on the bed in nothing but his boxers; a pile of bloodied clothes sitting on the floor. It was at this point that he heard a bang outside of the window.

"Dean?" Sam spoke quietly to himself as he stood up on wobbly legs.

Another bang was heard, this time followed by someone trying to open the locked door. Immediately Sam knew that this wasn't Dean, and his eyes scanned around for some sort of weapon. Using the bed to support himself, Sam made his way to the pillow and lifted it up. A small smile touched his lips at the knife sitting securely underneath. Picking up the weapon, Sam turned back to the door just in time to hear a loud bang of something smashing against it.

"Didn't exactly think this plan through, did you Dean?" Sam breathed, keeping his eyes trained at the door.

It was at that moment that Sam realized how worried and upset Dean must have been. A clear headed Dean wouldn't have left Sam alone, nor would he have not have made sure that Sam had a weapon or some sort of protection against the vampire that had caused all the problems. Thinking back on his own worry towards Dean's state, Sam could only imagine what the last twenty-four hours had done to his brother.

"Knock, knock!" a sudden voice boomed from outside the door seconds before it smashed in.

Sam stared wide eyed as a grinning Sebastian walked through the door. Neither brother had gotten too good of a look at the vampire before as they'd been tracking him in the dark, but now in the light Sam could easily see that when he was human, he would have been the type of guy all the girls wanted. His hair was medium length, shaggy and a dirty blond color with a pair of unneeded sunglasses propped on top. He wore an unbuttoned dark burgundy shirt, revealing his well built torso. To finish off his looks was a pair of blue jeans and black shoes that looked as if they'd seen better days.

"What do you want?" Sam questioned, dizziness washing through his body at the sudden surge of adrenaline.

"You, Sammy-Boy," Sebastian laughed, "You're like meals on wheels."

"You left me," Sam had one questioned he wanted answered, "Did you…"

"Change you?" Sebastian looked bored at this question, "Every time I catch a hunter like you they always ask me this question, like we change people all the time. Do you know how much time and effort goes into changing a person?"

"That didn't answer my question," Sam remained in his position with the knife in hand.

"No, you were sort of in storage until I was ready to finish you." Sebastian sighed, "But I can change you if you want. I mean… you definitely have the stuff for being evil."

"You son of a bitch," Sam fought through any physical pain and took a threatening step towards the vampire who still stood just barely in the doorway.

"What's wrong Sammy?" Sebastian pulled out a gun from the back rim of his jeans, "Don't you ever kill someone just for the rush of it all?"

A small smile came to Sam's face at the sight of something coming up behind Sebastian, "No, I don't like to…"

A sudden shot of a gun echoed in the small room followed by a crackle of electricity. The vampire stood stock still, his eyes wide as a bullet from the infamous colt shot it's power through his body.

"…my brother on the other hand seems to enjoy it," Sam smirked.

Quickly Dean moved into the room and shut the door, his eyes wide as he stared at Sam who promptly sat down on the nearest bed.

"Jesus Sammy, I'm sorry," Dean whispered moving his way over to the bed and crouching down in front of Sam.

Instead of a face of fear or hurt, Sam looked up at his brother with a smile on his face, and select tears silently rolling down his bruised features. Sam suddenly felt awkward sitting in nothing but his boxers, and found himself amazingly tired, but one thing caused the smile to be kept.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Dean questioned, still scrutinizing over every cut and bruise; his eyes finally landing on the harsh bite mark on his brother's neck.

"You didn't hear…" Sam spoke slowly.

"Hear what Sam?" a small amount of panic began to grow inside Dean, "The only think I saw was him pointing that gun at you."

Sam pulled his hand roughly through his blood soaked hair before making eye contact with Dean and speaking quietly, "…he didn't change me Dean."

Dean turned away and immediately went to his feet; his back to Sam. Sam's first instinct that was that Dean was caught up in emotions-- a rare Dean Winchester moment, though it happened from time to time nonetheless. This thought was quickly and startlingly blown away as a sound somewhere between a yell and a cry erupted from Dean, followed by the older hunter throwing a nearby book against the wall with a solid bang. Moving as quick as possible, Sam reached beside him to where a pair of his sweatpants sat that had been tossed there days before.

Slipping them on, Sam stood his feet, "Dean?

Dean turned around, his face suddenly very red and scrunched up into a look of pain and confusion. So few times did Sam see his brother break down in front of him, and every time Sam had no idea what to do. Even worse, he didn't know why this time.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Sam's voice went back to a scared five year old.

Dean washed his hand over his face, leaving it briefly over his mouth before speaking through a cracked voice, "I'm so sorry Sammy."

"No," as the adrenaline slowly left Sam's body, the pain once again began to return, "Dean, no… this isn't your fault, man."

Dean stared over at the body of Sebastian, "…I left you. Twice."

Sam didn't remember much from the alley, though knew without question that Dean wouldn't have intentionally left him, "Dean, don't do this to yourself."

"I screwed up," tears now came down Dean's face, "…all I can ever seem to do with you is screw up, and you always get hurt from it! I thought…" Dean wiped the tears from his face, "…I was sure he had turned you Sammy…"

Sam smiled, "He didn't. I can feel it now… I remember when I was waking up every few hours, everything hurt, and I was so scared that's what he'd done. But Dean… I'm ok."

Dean looked up and down his brother, "Dude, you're far from ok."

"Did you get some more supplies?" Sam questioned as he moved his stiff arm to feel a nice sized knot on the back on his head.

"Yeah, they're in the car…" Dean looked reluctantly at the door.

"Go Dean," Sam rolled his eyes, "I'm pretty sure I'll be ok while you go to the car. Besides, you need to make sure that no one heard that gun shot."

"Right," Dean took a step towards the door, paused, and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, "Sammy, I really am sorry."

"You'll be even more sorry if the police bust in here and find us with a dead body on the floor," Sam pointed out with a smile.

"Good point," Dean took a deep breath and walked to the door and outside.

Sam took this time to walk over to the bathroom and look at his injuries. The mirror showed from his chest up, and Sam realized then why Dean was so upset about the events of the past few days. Deep crimson blood stained much of Sam's face and matted his brown hair. His chest had harsh slice marks going across it that Sam couldn't remember getting, and blood dripped down from the puncture marks on the right side of his neck. Random bruises that had turned into deep purple and blue colors were scattered throughout every inch of his body, and looking down at is wrists, Sam saw they had been rubbed raw from the ropes which had bound him.

Grabbing a cloth from a small table in the bathroom, Sam ran the water in the sink and began to gently clean off his face. A small amount of relief swept through him as he saw that the majority of the blood on his face had come from his head, so at least the injury didn't seem as bad. Only a black eye and split lip seemed to adorn his handsome facial features, and the younger Winchester brother was just about to begin on cleaning his chest and arms when Dean appeared at the door.

"You should be cleaning that with alcohol," Dean stated.

"Right," Sam hobbled out past Dean and into the main room.

"I still think you need to get to a hospital Sam," Dean frowned.

"I trust you more than I trust some random guy that will charge us more money than we have, and will probably ask too many questions," Sam lowered himself carefully onto the end of the bed.

Dean sighed at his brother's stubbornness, "Alright, but if you bitch even once during this, we're going."

Sam smiled at Dean's habitual teasing, "Thanks Dean."

Dean sat on the bed next to Sam and began to unpack the assortment of medical supplies that he'd bought, "For what Sammy?"

Sam smiled sincerely and looked at his big brother, "For coming back."

The End.