Forged by Fire 3/?
Title: Forged by Fire
Author: mlebayre
Genre: General
Characters/Pairings: No Pairings, Dean and Sam, some other folks.
Rating: R
Spoilers: This is an AU. I've taken canon and events from all seasons, but they are more references than spoilers.
Notes: In this verse Sam never dies, so Dean never makes his deal.
Summary: Apparent mistaken identity lands Sam in prison, leaving Dean on the outside struggling to free his brother. Prison isn't a good place for a hunter especially when not all the inmates are human. Locked in a cage, Sam clings to the edge of sanity and discovers Abaddon has a fan. Next in the Two Souls Verse. Series: Two Souls Verse
Disclaimer: Not ours,just borrowing from Kripke.
Many thanks to sendintheklowns who was my winning bidder at Kazcon 2009. She asked for another fic in the Two Souls Verse and Sam in prison. What a great idea! Thank you to my wonderful betas, Anickamarie and deej1957. Amazing art by thruterryseyes and the incredible vid is by kumaproogey thank you so much to both of you! Thank you silverruffian for all her help with research.
Dean’s world narrowed down to the man in front of him. His confusion over Forge’s sudden change, which had sent a streak of apprehension through him vanished. The unexpected attitude transformation had frightened him, but seeing Sam, his Sammy, the kid who still believed good would triumph over evil and had faith in his big brother looking like some hollowed out violent, stranger brought everything in Dean to a halt.
Shock turned to anger in seconds, but he kept himself rooted to his spot, kept his cover.
Sam looked hard, his face was closed off and the look he gave the guard was pure hate, something Dean rarely saw in Sam. The room door clanked shut and for a few seconds no one moved. Dean wasn’t even sure he or his brother was breathing. Sam’s hair hung in greasy strands and Dean felt relief flood through him that his brother’s hair hadn’t been cut. Why it mattered or why Dean suddenly cared, he couldn’t guess, but it was unexpectedly very important that Sam remained Sam and that meant his shaggy, perpetually in need of a cutting hair was untouched.
Lifting his chin far enough Sam could look at Dean his entire demeanor changed. The cold man standing before him crumpled off of Sam, leaving his brother and revealing a frightened, confused kid in its wake. Tilting his head, Sam’s eyes liquefied and his breath hitched.
Swallowing down a choking sound, Sam pitched forward more than took a step, his movements impeded by the chains hobbling his ankles and wrists.
Dean jerked forward, his movements unsure. He felt like he was trying to move through water for a few seconds, his limbs felt sluggish and it was hard to breathe. A few strides and he was across the room, reaching out to grasp his brother’s shoulders.
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was soft and wet, barely more than a whimper.
“I’ve got you, it’s o-” Pulling Sam against him, Dean slid both arms around his back. Sam brought his arms up and tried getting his hands up and around Dean, but was hampered by the chains Dean felt pressing against his chest. It wasn’t okay, they all knew it. Nothing was going to be okay until Sam was out of this hell hole. He said instead, “I’m not leaving you in here, I’ll get you out.” Dean held his brother tighter against him while Sam drew in a long, shaky breath and pressed his face to the dip along Dean’s shoulder where it met his neck.
Forge coughed and Dean heard him pull a chair out and sit down. They needed information from Sam and they didn’t have a lot of time.
“Sammy,” Dean said and tried easing his brother back. Another strangled sob from Sam and he clung more tightly to Dean. Letting his eyes slowly shut, Dean drew in a deep breath and rubbed his hand up and down Sam’s spine for another minute. “Sam, buddy, we only have twenty minutes and we’re going to get you out I swear, but we need help from you.” Turning so he still had an arm around Sam’s shoulders he gently leaned away and moved Sam to the chair opposite Forge’s, pushing him down and massaging his shoulders for a few seconds until he felt his brother relax a small amount.
There were a few bottles of water on the table and when Sam reached for one the chains caught on the table edge, yanking and rattling. He cringed away, hunching in on himself and dropping his hands to his lap. “Can I-?” He nodded at the water. “Please? I’m thirsty.”
“Of course you can. You don’t need to ask,” Forge said, his voice oddly gentle. Taking one of the water bottles, he cracked it open and held it out to Sam who guzzled it in a few desperate swallows.
Moving slowly, Dean eased into the other chair, all the while watching his brother, sure his face showed how appalled he was when realization sunk in that Sam hadn’t been given so much as water since he’d gotten here.
“Sam,” Forge said before Dean could say or do much more, “are you in the pen?”
Carefully setting the bottle down and laying his hands flat on the table Sam’s gaze shifted nervously from Dean to Forge and back again. He looked to Dean as if he were guilty of something or afraid to answer. Placing his hand over Sam’s arm, Dean squeezed and nodded.
“Yes.” Sam’s voice was raw and it cracked.
Forge sat back and ran one hand through his hair. “Crap.”
“What?” Dean looked between them.
“I’ll fill you in when we leave. Right now, we need to know what Sam knows.”
Dean didn’t argue, but Forge not meeting his gaze was a neon sign there was something even more wrong than his brother being in prison and Dean wasn’t getting what that something was. He was pretty damn sure when he got the whole picture he wasn’t going to like it one bit.
When Sam took a second bottle of water and downed that too, Dean blurted out, “Haven’t you had anything to drink? Have you eaten?”
“Not much. I’m not exactly popular around here and I guess I don’t rate a meal.”
Dean shoved his considerable anger deep inside, this wasn’t Sam’s fault and he didn’t want to even hint to Sam he thought his brother was responsible or able to change the situation. “Sammy, start at the beginning and tell us everything.”
Sam nodded and drew in a deep breath. “I went out to the library and thought I’d stop and get something for breakfast on my way back. Next thing I knew I was surrounded by cops and being hauled in to the police station. I figured they’d fingerprint me and realize I wasn’t who they said, but that didn’t happen. Nothing I said or did made any difference other than make them madder at me. When I got here they thought I was some creep who raped and murdered little kids and no one is very happy I’m here.” His gaze wandered around the room before coming to rest on Dean again.
“I found pictures online, this guy doesn’t even look like him,” Dean said to Forge, but reached out and let his hand rest on Sam’s arm again as he spoke.
“Why do they think I’m someone who I don’t even look like?”
Rubbing the skin under his eyes, Dean sighed. “I don’t know, but I think that’s something we need to find out.”
Forge nodded. “Agreed. Sam, is there anything, even something small that you heard or saw that could give us any clues?”
Sam shook his head and if it were possible looked even more miserable than he had a minute before. “How long am I going to have to stay here?”
Dean’s heart clenched and the room swam though his tears for a few seconds. He couldn’t lie to his brother, not this time. “I don’t know, but Bobby and Carter are working on it, too.”
“All right, Sam, here’s our cover.” Forge leaned across the table and dropped his voice. “I’m here to get information from you about killings in South Dakota and I’m going to try to get you extradited. Dean is a priest from your family’s parish and the only one you’ve agreed to give any details to.”
“Okay. I’m sorry I don’t know more that is helpful.”
“We’ll get through this Sam, we will.” Dean squeezed his arm again. When Sam turned glassy, wide eyes on him and nodded, biting his lower lip Dean wanted nothing more than to gather his brother to him and somehow smuggle him out. How he was going to get himself out without pounding a few people into the ground he didn’t know.
Loud clanging outside the door signaled their time was up. Two men who dwarfed Sam in height came in, standing quietly. One nodded politely to both Dean and Forge before turning a vile stare on Sam. Climbing slowly from the chair when the guard wrapped a meaty hand around his bicep, Sam was having a hard time standing fully and moving away from the chair, the chains caught on everything. Grumbling obscenities under his breath, obviously annoyed with how fast Sam wasn’t moving the guard gave Sam a healthy jerk, which again nearly pulled him off his feet.
“Hey.” Dean stepped forward, reaching for his brother, wanting to be sure he didn’t hit face first on the floor. “He didn’t do anything to resist. Give him a chance, it’s hard to walk in those things” He pointed to the chains hobbling Sam’s legs.
Forge cleared his throat again and the guard jerked harder on Sam’s arm, pulling him along, making him stumble.
“This isn’t church, padre, and this guy ain’t one of your nice, upstanding flock. He’s a filthy murdering animal and doesn’t deserve to be treated as well as he is right now,” the guard snapped.
“He’s still a human being,” Dean snapped right back. His chest swelled with frustration when the guard simply snorted and shoved Sam toward the door. “Barely.”
Forge took a step forward and tapped Dean’s arm, then gripped Dean’s sleeve between two fingers. “Father.” His tone was a warning, and even though he didn’t say anything else, Dean got the hint and backed off. “I’ll need to speak with Assistant Warden Michaels again.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell him. Wait here.”
With that Dean’s brother was gone, but not before Sam managed a glance over his shoulder at Dean. Swallowing down his protests and doing his best to keep from his face the rampant and overbearing emotions bubbling through him, Dean turned away and nodded to Forge mumbling out, “Sorry.”
A few minutes later Michaels reappeared, again with a few guards flanking him. “Did you find out what you needed?”
“That man is important to my investigation. He’s also a prisoner under your care, what happens to him is your responsibility. He hasn’t had food or water since he’s been here. What the hell sort of prison are you running? I can and will go to the prison board if necessary,” Forge shouted, pointing at the door Sam had been led through.
“I have one guard to every one-hundred prisoners here. He was taken to meals like everyone else, we can’t baby sit them all and watch to be sure everyone gets the same. If he can’t hold his own here, oh well.”
“I’m having him extradited. He damn well better be alive enough to testify.”
Michaels smirked, “Detective, you can have his sorry ass. I sure don’t want him here, too much trouble, but I’d suggest you get your extradition and get it fast.”
“You know it takes at least a few days.”
“Then I’d suggest you wake up a judge and get it sooner.” Turning on his heels, Michaels ignored them, speaking to the guards. “See them to the gate.”
Dean remembered these people thought he was a priest. “Mr. Michaels.” When the warden turned and looked him up and down, with obvious distaste, Dean folded his hands in front of him and leveled a no nonsense stare at Michaels. “Assuring that man is alive and healthy enough to give statements, and for the information he gives to be verified isn’t helping him, but the families off all those innocent victims. It wasn’t their fault and you impeding this investigation makes you no better than the man you despise so much. He’ll get what he deserves, if not here then when he has to atone for his sins.”
Michaels glared at Dean for a few seconds before shaking his head and waking away.
Looking back at Forge, Dean tried reading his expression, but other than the anger smoldering in his eyes directed at the spot Michaels had been standing in, the man’s face was blank.
Brushing by Dean, Forge stalked out of the room, pausing only long enough to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder and pull it away a split second later. Clamping down on his anger and confusion, Dean followed him through the prison. Neither said a word until they were sitting in Forge’s car. He cranked over the engine, yanked on the gear shift with enough force Dean winced, sure he’d pull it out of the car.
Gripping the steering wheel, Forge drove, staring straight ahead, then drew in a breath, opened his mouth and shut it again. Dean recognized the actions for what they were he’d certainly done them enough with Sam. There was something Forge wanted to tell him and he didn’t know how.
Dean decided to let him off the hook fast. “Just out with it.”
“Dean, I-”
“Cut the crap and tell me. I don’t get half of what’s going on or what you were asking Sam, so goddamn it, tell me.”
“We need a new plan. That kid can’t stay where he is.” Forge was rambling, almost sounding panicked, which didn’t make Dean feel any better. “This is bad, Dean, this is incredibly bad.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Dean shouted. Forge’s gaze jerked to him so fast the car swerved. “Pull over.”
“What?”
“Pull the hell over before you kill us-me! And wreck a perfectly good, albeit ugly, cheap ass, new car.”
Checking behind him, Forge flicked on the turn signal and guided the car to the roadside. Once the car was stopped and in park, Dean shoved out and stormed to the driver’s side, meeting Forge head on when he climbed out. Forge pushed against his shoulders, forcing him back a few steps. He began pacing along the side of the car, running his hands through his hair, a gesture that reminded him too much of Sam.
“You and Sam, you’ve been in jail, never anything like this.”
“You keep telling me that and you’re almost making me feel guilty for not having more time on the inside.”
“No, Dean, I’m sorry. Do you know what a pen is?”
Dean shook his head no, feeling a bit stupid.
“Some prisons, larger ones and unfortunately the ones with the more hard core criminals, are overcrowded to the point they run out of cells. So, one solution has been to take gymnasiums or some other large space and put in beds and house them that way. The problem is, cells don’t simply keep the prisoners locked in and away from us,” he waved one hand between him and Dean. “They also provide protection to the inmates and give them somewhere to go. Without walls and bars there is no way to diffuse a violent situation, or let an inmate get away from others if they have to. This is the worst of all possible situations. These prisons also harbor a large majority of gangs.”
“That’s what Sam’s in?”
Forge nodded. “Yeah, Dean.”
“And we left him there?!” Dean pointed down the road, stepping up to Forge and yelling at him.
“We didn’t have a choice!” Forge shouted right back. “We need to come up with a way to get Sam out of that pen and get him some protection until we have the paper trail we need to get him out.”
“Take me back to the motel. I’ve got enough fire power in the Impala to take out a small country. I’ll damn well get him out.”
Forge grabbed his arm, spun him around and impressed Dean by dodging the punch Dean threw at him. “Dean, stop. You try that and they’ll gun you down before you get to the first gate. Where will your kid brother be when you’re dead? Huh?” He hit Dean’s shoulders, making him stumble back a few steps. “Where will Sam be with you dead, even after I still get him out?”
Leaning over, bracing his hands on his knees, Dean panted through his nose, trying to steady his spinning senses. “I can’t leave him. They’ll destroy…he won’t…”
“No one is leaving Sam in there. But, Dean, dude, you gotta put a lid on this. That kid is not going to come out the same person he went in, it just won’t happen and he’s going to need you. I get you two, I really do. He comes out and you’re not here, he’s dead anyway.”
“Sam’s stronger than that,” Dean snarled out, defiant on Sam’s behalf.
“Nobody is stronger than that. Trust me, I’ve seen it. Nobody is.” Forge’s voice quieted and softened. “Let’s get back, see how far Bobby and Carter have come with what we need and go from there.”
Twenty minutes later they were back in Dean’s motel room, Bobby and Carter on a conference call and speaker phone.
“I’ve planted fake stories online, and am working up case files now,” Bobby said. “We should be able to have a paper trail on Sam, who they think Sam is, connected to this area and going back a few years in another couple of days.”
“Sam’s in a pen.” Forge stopped his pacing and blurted out.
Dean heard Carter suck in a breath before groaning out, “Oh Jesus Christ, no.”
“Pen?” Bobby’s voice was gruff and annoyed. At least Dean wasn’t the only one not up on prison lingo and policy.
“Instead of cells all the inmates are kept in large groups,” Carter explained. “We need to get that kid out of there. Fast.”
“Finally, someone agrees with me.” Dean threw both hands in the air and let them drop.
“Yeah, well unless we can get the paperwork-” Forge was pacing again; it was starting to drive Dean nuts. One side effect of him and Sam growing up in a car and small motel rooms was that neither was much of a pacer.
“Administrative seclusion,” Carter cut him off.
“What’s that?” Bobby and Dean asked together.
“Solitary.” Forge stopped and stared at the phone. “No. He’s going to be a mess as it is when we get him out, that’ll just-”
Again Carter cut him off, yelling this time. “He’s going to be dead. A little crazy is a far better alternative…and far easier to fix than dead.”
“What do you mean a little crazy?” Dean asked. He turned to face Forge completely. The guy looked slightly green, which was interesting considering he had no circulation being a vampire and all. He definitely had that didn’t want to tell Dean anything expression again. Reaching out and grabbing Forge’s arm, Dean gave it a gentle tug. “Be straight with me.”
Forge sighed and seemed to deflate, looking defeated and miserable. “Solitary confinement is…”
“I know what it is. I was even in it for a night when Sam and I went into a prison on a case.”
Nodding, Forge rubbed at the back of his neck. “A night. Solitary confinement is the last resort for most prison officials. See, it separates the problem from the masses; however it creates a whole new set of problems. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, no matter how mentally stable they are, who spends more than a few nights in solitary they…uh…there’s medical terms for it, but they all develop some…”
“They go nuts,” Dean finished for him. Forge nodded. “So you’re asking me to agree to put my brother in a tiny cage, all alone, where he’s likely to simply go insane?”
“It doesn’t happen right away,” Carter’s voice from the phone made Dean back away from Forge and move closer to the phone. “It happens in stages and it can be reversed, people can be treated. Most commonly the psychosis starts with hallucinations. Most guys in there recover if they’re not in for more than a few weeks.”
“Look,” Bobby’s voice chimed in. “I think we deal with the immediate threat. Sam’s in a prison and everyone thinks he’s some kid killer, not good. If they thought he was a cop killer he’d be fine, but that’s not the case. We have one way to keep him safe till he’s out and this is it.”
“The choice is yours, Dean,” Forge said quietly.
“No.” Dean shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s Sam’s.”
Chapter 4
Author: mlebayre
Genre: General
Characters/Pairings: No Pairings, Dean and Sam, some other folks.
Rating: R
Spoilers: This is an AU. I've taken canon and events from all seasons, but they are more references than spoilers.
Notes: In this verse Sam never dies, so Dean never makes his deal.
Summary: Apparent mistaken identity lands Sam in prison, leaving Dean on the outside struggling to free his brother. Prison isn't a good place for a hunter especially when not all the inmates are human. Locked in a cage, Sam clings to the edge of sanity and discovers Abaddon has a fan. Next in the Two Souls Verse. Series: Two Souls Verse
Disclaimer: Not ours,just borrowing from Kripke.
Many thanks to sendintheklowns who was my winning bidder at Kazcon 2009. She asked for another fic in the Two Souls Verse and Sam in prison. What a great idea! Thank you to my wonderful betas, Anickamarie and deej1957. Amazing art by thruterryseyes and the incredible vid is by kumaproogey thank you so much to both of you! Thank you silverruffian for all her help with research.
Dean’s world narrowed down to the man in front of him. His confusion over Forge’s sudden change, which had sent a streak of apprehension through him vanished. The unexpected attitude transformation had frightened him, but seeing Sam, his Sammy, the kid who still believed good would triumph over evil and had faith in his big brother looking like some hollowed out violent, stranger brought everything in Dean to a halt.
Shock turned to anger in seconds, but he kept himself rooted to his spot, kept his cover.
Sam looked hard, his face was closed off and the look he gave the guard was pure hate, something Dean rarely saw in Sam. The room door clanked shut and for a few seconds no one moved. Dean wasn’t even sure he or his brother was breathing. Sam’s hair hung in greasy strands and Dean felt relief flood through him that his brother’s hair hadn’t been cut. Why it mattered or why Dean suddenly cared, he couldn’t guess, but it was unexpectedly very important that Sam remained Sam and that meant his shaggy, perpetually in need of a cutting hair was untouched.
Lifting his chin far enough Sam could look at Dean his entire demeanor changed. The cold man standing before him crumpled off of Sam, leaving his brother and revealing a frightened, confused kid in its wake. Tilting his head, Sam’s eyes liquefied and his breath hitched.
Swallowing down a choking sound, Sam pitched forward more than took a step, his movements impeded by the chains hobbling his ankles and wrists.
Dean jerked forward, his movements unsure. He felt like he was trying to move through water for a few seconds, his limbs felt sluggish and it was hard to breathe. A few strides and he was across the room, reaching out to grasp his brother’s shoulders.
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was soft and wet, barely more than a whimper.
“I’ve got you, it’s o-” Pulling Sam against him, Dean slid both arms around his back. Sam brought his arms up and tried getting his hands up and around Dean, but was hampered by the chains Dean felt pressing against his chest. It wasn’t okay, they all knew it. Nothing was going to be okay until Sam was out of this hell hole. He said instead, “I’m not leaving you in here, I’ll get you out.” Dean held his brother tighter against him while Sam drew in a long, shaky breath and pressed his face to the dip along Dean’s shoulder where it met his neck.
Forge coughed and Dean heard him pull a chair out and sit down. They needed information from Sam and they didn’t have a lot of time.
“Sammy,” Dean said and tried easing his brother back. Another strangled sob from Sam and he clung more tightly to Dean. Letting his eyes slowly shut, Dean drew in a deep breath and rubbed his hand up and down Sam’s spine for another minute. “Sam, buddy, we only have twenty minutes and we’re going to get you out I swear, but we need help from you.” Turning so he still had an arm around Sam’s shoulders he gently leaned away and moved Sam to the chair opposite Forge’s, pushing him down and massaging his shoulders for a few seconds until he felt his brother relax a small amount.
There were a few bottles of water on the table and when Sam reached for one the chains caught on the table edge, yanking and rattling. He cringed away, hunching in on himself and dropping his hands to his lap. “Can I-?” He nodded at the water. “Please? I’m thirsty.”
“Of course you can. You don’t need to ask,” Forge said, his voice oddly gentle. Taking one of the water bottles, he cracked it open and held it out to Sam who guzzled it in a few desperate swallows.
Moving slowly, Dean eased into the other chair, all the while watching his brother, sure his face showed how appalled he was when realization sunk in that Sam hadn’t been given so much as water since he’d gotten here.
“Sam,” Forge said before Dean could say or do much more, “are you in the pen?”
Carefully setting the bottle down and laying his hands flat on the table Sam’s gaze shifted nervously from Dean to Forge and back again. He looked to Dean as if he were guilty of something or afraid to answer. Placing his hand over Sam’s arm, Dean squeezed and nodded.
“Yes.” Sam’s voice was raw and it cracked.
Forge sat back and ran one hand through his hair. “Crap.”
“What?” Dean looked between them.
“I’ll fill you in when we leave. Right now, we need to know what Sam knows.”
Dean didn’t argue, but Forge not meeting his gaze was a neon sign there was something even more wrong than his brother being in prison and Dean wasn’t getting what that something was. He was pretty damn sure when he got the whole picture he wasn’t going to like it one bit.
When Sam took a second bottle of water and downed that too, Dean blurted out, “Haven’t you had anything to drink? Have you eaten?”
“Not much. I’m not exactly popular around here and I guess I don’t rate a meal.”
Dean shoved his considerable anger deep inside, this wasn’t Sam’s fault and he didn’t want to even hint to Sam he thought his brother was responsible or able to change the situation. “Sammy, start at the beginning and tell us everything.”
Sam nodded and drew in a deep breath. “I went out to the library and thought I’d stop and get something for breakfast on my way back. Next thing I knew I was surrounded by cops and being hauled in to the police station. I figured they’d fingerprint me and realize I wasn’t who they said, but that didn’t happen. Nothing I said or did made any difference other than make them madder at me. When I got here they thought I was some creep who raped and murdered little kids and no one is very happy I’m here.” His gaze wandered around the room before coming to rest on Dean again.
“I found pictures online, this guy doesn’t even look like him,” Dean said to Forge, but reached out and let his hand rest on Sam’s arm again as he spoke.
“Why do they think I’m someone who I don’t even look like?”
Rubbing the skin under his eyes, Dean sighed. “I don’t know, but I think that’s something we need to find out.”
Forge nodded. “Agreed. Sam, is there anything, even something small that you heard or saw that could give us any clues?”
Sam shook his head and if it were possible looked even more miserable than he had a minute before. “How long am I going to have to stay here?”
Dean’s heart clenched and the room swam though his tears for a few seconds. He couldn’t lie to his brother, not this time. “I don’t know, but Bobby and Carter are working on it, too.”
“All right, Sam, here’s our cover.” Forge leaned across the table and dropped his voice. “I’m here to get information from you about killings in South Dakota and I’m going to try to get you extradited. Dean is a priest from your family’s parish and the only one you’ve agreed to give any details to.”
“Okay. I’m sorry I don’t know more that is helpful.”
“We’ll get through this Sam, we will.” Dean squeezed his arm again. When Sam turned glassy, wide eyes on him and nodded, biting his lower lip Dean wanted nothing more than to gather his brother to him and somehow smuggle him out. How he was going to get himself out without pounding a few people into the ground he didn’t know.
Loud clanging outside the door signaled their time was up. Two men who dwarfed Sam in height came in, standing quietly. One nodded politely to both Dean and Forge before turning a vile stare on Sam. Climbing slowly from the chair when the guard wrapped a meaty hand around his bicep, Sam was having a hard time standing fully and moving away from the chair, the chains caught on everything. Grumbling obscenities under his breath, obviously annoyed with how fast Sam wasn’t moving the guard gave Sam a healthy jerk, which again nearly pulled him off his feet.
“Hey.” Dean stepped forward, reaching for his brother, wanting to be sure he didn’t hit face first on the floor. “He didn’t do anything to resist. Give him a chance, it’s hard to walk in those things” He pointed to the chains hobbling Sam’s legs.
Forge cleared his throat again and the guard jerked harder on Sam’s arm, pulling him along, making him stumble.
“This isn’t church, padre, and this guy ain’t one of your nice, upstanding flock. He’s a filthy murdering animal and doesn’t deserve to be treated as well as he is right now,” the guard snapped.
“He’s still a human being,” Dean snapped right back. His chest swelled with frustration when the guard simply snorted and shoved Sam toward the door. “Barely.”
Forge took a step forward and tapped Dean’s arm, then gripped Dean’s sleeve between two fingers. “Father.” His tone was a warning, and even though he didn’t say anything else, Dean got the hint and backed off. “I’ll need to speak with Assistant Warden Michaels again.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell him. Wait here.”
With that Dean’s brother was gone, but not before Sam managed a glance over his shoulder at Dean. Swallowing down his protests and doing his best to keep from his face the rampant and overbearing emotions bubbling through him, Dean turned away and nodded to Forge mumbling out, “Sorry.”
A few minutes later Michaels reappeared, again with a few guards flanking him. “Did you find out what you needed?”
“That man is important to my investigation. He’s also a prisoner under your care, what happens to him is your responsibility. He hasn’t had food or water since he’s been here. What the hell sort of prison are you running? I can and will go to the prison board if necessary,” Forge shouted, pointing at the door Sam had been led through.
“I have one guard to every one-hundred prisoners here. He was taken to meals like everyone else, we can’t baby sit them all and watch to be sure everyone gets the same. If he can’t hold his own here, oh well.”
“I’m having him extradited. He damn well better be alive enough to testify.”
Michaels smirked, “Detective, you can have his sorry ass. I sure don’t want him here, too much trouble, but I’d suggest you get your extradition and get it fast.”
“You know it takes at least a few days.”
“Then I’d suggest you wake up a judge and get it sooner.” Turning on his heels, Michaels ignored them, speaking to the guards. “See them to the gate.”
Dean remembered these people thought he was a priest. “Mr. Michaels.” When the warden turned and looked him up and down, with obvious distaste, Dean folded his hands in front of him and leveled a no nonsense stare at Michaels. “Assuring that man is alive and healthy enough to give statements, and for the information he gives to be verified isn’t helping him, but the families off all those innocent victims. It wasn’t their fault and you impeding this investigation makes you no better than the man you despise so much. He’ll get what he deserves, if not here then when he has to atone for his sins.”
Michaels glared at Dean for a few seconds before shaking his head and waking away.
Looking back at Forge, Dean tried reading his expression, but other than the anger smoldering in his eyes directed at the spot Michaels had been standing in, the man’s face was blank.
Brushing by Dean, Forge stalked out of the room, pausing only long enough to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder and pull it away a split second later. Clamping down on his anger and confusion, Dean followed him through the prison. Neither said a word until they were sitting in Forge’s car. He cranked over the engine, yanked on the gear shift with enough force Dean winced, sure he’d pull it out of the car.
Gripping the steering wheel, Forge drove, staring straight ahead, then drew in a breath, opened his mouth and shut it again. Dean recognized the actions for what they were he’d certainly done them enough with Sam. There was something Forge wanted to tell him and he didn’t know how.
Dean decided to let him off the hook fast. “Just out with it.”
“Dean, I-”
“Cut the crap and tell me. I don’t get half of what’s going on or what you were asking Sam, so goddamn it, tell me.”
“We need a new plan. That kid can’t stay where he is.” Forge was rambling, almost sounding panicked, which didn’t make Dean feel any better. “This is bad, Dean, this is incredibly bad.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Dean shouted. Forge’s gaze jerked to him so fast the car swerved. “Pull over.”
“What?”
“Pull the hell over before you kill us-me! And wreck a perfectly good, albeit ugly, cheap ass, new car.”
Checking behind him, Forge flicked on the turn signal and guided the car to the roadside. Once the car was stopped and in park, Dean shoved out and stormed to the driver’s side, meeting Forge head on when he climbed out. Forge pushed against his shoulders, forcing him back a few steps. He began pacing along the side of the car, running his hands through his hair, a gesture that reminded him too much of Sam.
“You and Sam, you’ve been in jail, never anything like this.”
“You keep telling me that and you’re almost making me feel guilty for not having more time on the inside.”
“No, Dean, I’m sorry. Do you know what a pen is?”
Dean shook his head no, feeling a bit stupid.
“Some prisons, larger ones and unfortunately the ones with the more hard core criminals, are overcrowded to the point they run out of cells. So, one solution has been to take gymnasiums or some other large space and put in beds and house them that way. The problem is, cells don’t simply keep the prisoners locked in and away from us,” he waved one hand between him and Dean. “They also provide protection to the inmates and give them somewhere to go. Without walls and bars there is no way to diffuse a violent situation, or let an inmate get away from others if they have to. This is the worst of all possible situations. These prisons also harbor a large majority of gangs.”
“That’s what Sam’s in?”
Forge nodded. “Yeah, Dean.”
“And we left him there?!” Dean pointed down the road, stepping up to Forge and yelling at him.
“We didn’t have a choice!” Forge shouted right back. “We need to come up with a way to get Sam out of that pen and get him some protection until we have the paper trail we need to get him out.”
“Take me back to the motel. I’ve got enough fire power in the Impala to take out a small country. I’ll damn well get him out.”
Forge grabbed his arm, spun him around and impressed Dean by dodging the punch Dean threw at him. “Dean, stop. You try that and they’ll gun you down before you get to the first gate. Where will your kid brother be when you’re dead? Huh?” He hit Dean’s shoulders, making him stumble back a few steps. “Where will Sam be with you dead, even after I still get him out?”
Leaning over, bracing his hands on his knees, Dean panted through his nose, trying to steady his spinning senses. “I can’t leave him. They’ll destroy…he won’t…”
“No one is leaving Sam in there. But, Dean, dude, you gotta put a lid on this. That kid is not going to come out the same person he went in, it just won’t happen and he’s going to need you. I get you two, I really do. He comes out and you’re not here, he’s dead anyway.”
“Sam’s stronger than that,” Dean snarled out, defiant on Sam’s behalf.
“Nobody is stronger than that. Trust me, I’ve seen it. Nobody is.” Forge’s voice quieted and softened. “Let’s get back, see how far Bobby and Carter have come with what we need and go from there.”
Twenty minutes later they were back in Dean’s motel room, Bobby and Carter on a conference call and speaker phone.
“I’ve planted fake stories online, and am working up case files now,” Bobby said. “We should be able to have a paper trail on Sam, who they think Sam is, connected to this area and going back a few years in another couple of days.”
“Sam’s in a pen.” Forge stopped his pacing and blurted out.
Dean heard Carter suck in a breath before groaning out, “Oh Jesus Christ, no.”
“Pen?” Bobby’s voice was gruff and annoyed. At least Dean wasn’t the only one not up on prison lingo and policy.
“Instead of cells all the inmates are kept in large groups,” Carter explained. “We need to get that kid out of there. Fast.”
“Finally, someone agrees with me.” Dean threw both hands in the air and let them drop.
“Yeah, well unless we can get the paperwork-” Forge was pacing again; it was starting to drive Dean nuts. One side effect of him and Sam growing up in a car and small motel rooms was that neither was much of a pacer.
“Administrative seclusion,” Carter cut him off.
“What’s that?” Bobby and Dean asked together.
“Solitary.” Forge stopped and stared at the phone. “No. He’s going to be a mess as it is when we get him out, that’ll just-”
Again Carter cut him off, yelling this time. “He’s going to be dead. A little crazy is a far better alternative…and far easier to fix than dead.”
“What do you mean a little crazy?” Dean asked. He turned to face Forge completely. The guy looked slightly green, which was interesting considering he had no circulation being a vampire and all. He definitely had that didn’t want to tell Dean anything expression again. Reaching out and grabbing Forge’s arm, Dean gave it a gentle tug. “Be straight with me.”
Forge sighed and seemed to deflate, looking defeated and miserable. “Solitary confinement is…”
“I know what it is. I was even in it for a night when Sam and I went into a prison on a case.”
Nodding, Forge rubbed at the back of his neck. “A night. Solitary confinement is the last resort for most prison officials. See, it separates the problem from the masses; however it creates a whole new set of problems. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, no matter how mentally stable they are, who spends more than a few nights in solitary they…uh…there’s medical terms for it, but they all develop some…”
“They go nuts,” Dean finished for him. Forge nodded. “So you’re asking me to agree to put my brother in a tiny cage, all alone, where he’s likely to simply go insane?”
“It doesn’t happen right away,” Carter’s voice from the phone made Dean back away from Forge and move closer to the phone. “It happens in stages and it can be reversed, people can be treated. Most commonly the psychosis starts with hallucinations. Most guys in there recover if they’re not in for more than a few weeks.”
“Look,” Bobby’s voice chimed in. “I think we deal with the immediate threat. Sam’s in a prison and everyone thinks he’s some kid killer, not good. If they thought he was a cop killer he’d be fine, but that’s not the case. We have one way to keep him safe till he’s out and this is it.”
“The choice is yours, Dean,” Forge said quietly.
“No.” Dean shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s Sam’s.”
Chapter 4