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Chapter 4

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Sam had finally figured out a way to recline, leaning sideways against the wall, without having to sit directly on his feet. However, every time his leg muscles screamed to be stretched he fidgeted, in turn pulling painfully on his wrists and arms as his body fought against its restrictions. The darkness seemed more menacing, and he could feel the lack of food and water sapping his energy. There was absolutely no way to tell how much time was passing, and even the varying bits of gloom sneaking through the slit in the door gave little clue to the time of day. He tried to think through any possible options of escape, but came up empty. Then just to pass the time and take his mind off his alternating numbing or painful limbs, he started making lists in his head. America's top serial killers, in order by year. Hunts they had been on, in order of difficulty and injury. Favorite movies. Superheroes, in order of who would win the ultimate battle (as he worked through this list he could almost hear Dean arguing his own favorites in his head). Math tables...he was getting desperate now. This was something they never portrayed in the movies - the mind-numbing boredom that accompanied being caged and chained. It was almost worse than the moments of adrenaline and fear - almost. Refocusing, Sam's lists became more personal. Worst hotel rooms. Dean's most annoying habits. This led to listing Dean's top most annoying music. Ironically, however, he found himself humming a Metallica song, taking a strange sense of comfort in the music that comforted his big brother. He finally fell into an uneasy doze, waking just before he fell over each time. He wondered what his captors had in store next. Nothing good, I'm sure. Dean, don't do anything stupid, but hurry up and get me out of here! Finally his battle with his exhausted body was lost, and he slowly toppled over to the floor and slept.

Sam woke slowly to the sounds of an argument. At first disoriented, he didn't think much of it until he tried to move his arms and legs. Wincing at the pain that caused, his memory flooded back and he realized that for the first time that day? (or was it the next day?) he was not alone. Trying to keep back his winces and groans as his trapped limbs flooded with vicious pins and needles, he listened to the voices outside his cell.

"Henriksen! This isn't right. We need to at least release him from the chains and feed him. He could walk if a jury believed his story on how he's been treated…"

"No! We will continue to keep Sam Winchester and punish him until his brother turns himself in. And then we will extradite them both, and they will spend the rest of their lives in supermax. He deserves death, so in my book he's getting off easy."

"Victor - "

"No!" shouted Henriksen, sounding a little crazed. "Reidy, either you're on board, or you're on the next plane home." Sam didn't hear the response, but found himself blinking as the door was thrown open, and he struggled to get to his knees, unwilling to meet his tormentors lying down.

"Sam, Sam, Sam. What are we going to do with you?" Sam kept his head down, trying for a more submissive approach, but glanced obliquely up at both men. Henriksen was smiling almost crazily, while Reidy looked conflicted. Sam hoped the man's hesitation would lead to him becoming an ally, though how to make that happen he wasn't sure. His eyes were drawn back to Henriksen as he began to taunt him. "Comfy? Need fresh towels or anything?"

"Fuck you." Not the smartest response, Sam! Great, I'm channeling my inner Dean. As expected, a fist to the jaw followed, knocking him to the ground.

"Reidy, get him up." Reidy reluctantly stepped over to the prisoner and man-handled him back to his knees. Sam glared at him as he stepped back, blowing his hair out of his eyes and feeling the blood slowly drip from his split lip. "Let's try this again, Sam. This can all end today, if you would just cooperate and help us get your brother to turn himself in." He pulled out his cell phone and wiggled it in Sam's face. "Just a phone call, and as soon as Dean's in custody you're a free man." Sam just glared silently, weighing his options.

"Fine. I'll call. But he won't turn himself in. He won't play your sick games."

"You'll see." Henriksen punched the number Sam gave him into his phone, then held it up, snapped a photo of Sam and sent a text. "No funny business though. Just tell him to turn himself in." It wasn't more than a minute later the phone rang. "Hello Dean." he answered smugly, then held the phone away from his ear as Dean's swearing echoed through it loudly. Sam couldn't help but smile, enjoying even the sound of his brother's anger. Henriksen hit the speakerphone button and Sam interrupted Dean's tirade with a simple "Dean."

"Sammy! It's good to hear your voice." Sam could hear the relief mingled with fear coming over the line.

"Yeah," he said, stalling.

"How's the accommodations? Better than the old Walker Plantation? I've been thinking about that place a lot lately." Sam forced himself to show no reaction, but internally his mind was racing. The Walker Plantation job was where they had met Hoyt Rawlings. Was Dean getting Hoyt involved in this mess?

"Dean, you need to take off. Get as far away from here as - " he was cut off by another blow to the face, and again he could hear Dean raging in the background.

"Turn yourself in, Dean. Before Sam pays the ultimate price for your crimes." With that Henriksen hung up, turned on his heel, and left, Reidy following reluctantly in his wake.

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"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled, barely restraining himself from throwing his phone. Instead he whirled and punched the wall behind him violently. Everyone in the room stared silently as he stilled, hanging his head and regarded his now bleeding knuckles. Exchanging glances with the newly arrived Hoyt and Vic, Bobby stepped hesitantly to Dean's side. Wordlessly Dean held up the phone, displaying the picture of a disheveled Sam on his knees, chained and beaten.

"Balls!" Bobby put a grounding hand on Dean's shoulder, even as he expressed his own anger and frustration.

"Dean," Hoyt spoke compassionately but firmly, "What happened?"

"I think Henriksen just threatened to kill Sam if I didn't turn myself in." A collective inhale was heard around the room at that statement.

"He can't - " began Mara.

"I'll try to report him to my superiors." suggested Deacon.

"You need to get me in that prison." overrode Hoyt, "tonight." Vic looked at his son, hating what was being asked of him, but knowing he did not have the power or right to veto his choice.

"We have a prisoner healing in the infirmary who looks similar, minus an eye. But maybe the eye patch will be distraction enough to keep people from noticing you aren't the same person." Deacon had given this quite a bit of thought, as he hated the idea that someone else might end up imprisoned because of him. "He's kind of a loner, and his cellmate was one of the guys the ghost killed, so it's possible you might just pass as him." Hoyt simply nodded his agreement.

"Fine, works. What do we do with the actual prisoner?" Dean responded.

"I don't like this." Bobby stated, unfazed by the glares he was receiving from both Dean and Hoyt.

"I agree." Vic added, holding up his hand to stop the protests erupting from both boys. "BUT, I also agree that Sam is running out of time and we're desperate." Turning to Deacon he added, "How can I help?"

"If you came to visit him as a relative, you could sneak in what we need to knock him out." Deacon offered. "From there, you can help me smuggle him out of the way til we're done. But we'll have a very short window to work with before our subterfuge is discovered."

"I can buy us some time with Henriksen while you are going to get Sam, Hoyt." Mara offered. "I'll go to negotiate a proposal for capturing Dean and releasing Sam, at least to general pop."

"Mara, it's dangerous. Henriksen seems unstable…" Dean began reluctantly, but she ignored him and continued, "I'll also get a feel for where Reidy is in all this. If he seems like an ally I'll work my charm on him a bit." She smiled a seductive smile at Dean that any other time would have gotten a response, but Dean was too tense to react. He paced the room, thinking through their plan. He hated not being able to be the one to go after Sam, hated having to rely on others to do the job for him.

Bobby continued to work through the plan. "I'll be waiting with a car nearby for Hoyt and Sam…"

"I'll be with you." stated Dean. There was an uproar of protest at this, but he simply held his hand up and silenced them. "If everything goes sideways, I will turn myself in. No one is dying for me. Not Sam, and not any of you." He looked each of his conspirators in the eye, silently conveying his unwillingness to waver from this stance, as well as his appreciation for their help. "Thank you." he said to the room at large, but each person felt the weight of his gratitude and nodded or smiled in response.

"All right!" Hoyt clapped his hands. "Let's go steal us a Sam!"

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A/N: Yes, for any of you who care, that last line was a nod to another of my favorite shows, Leverage. :)