Nothing, No One, Alone -- Supernatural, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Nothing, No One, Alone
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Caleb
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3714
Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken and To Be Strong. Dean was kidnapped and made into a slave. Sam bought him back, but he paid for him with a bunch of paper conjured to look like $85,000...now the men who sold Dean want their money...or their slave back...and they'll settle for both.
A/Ns and Warnings: Slave!Dean, torture and rape...not exactly pretty stuff here.
John put down a guard with a strong left hook and dragged him out of the corridor. So far he and Caleb had done the same with five others. Caleb beckoned him to the door and he peered inside. Ten cages lined one side of a long room, at least six of them occupied.
“We can’t leave them here.” Caleb whispered.
“We can’t take them with us either.” John whispered back. His eyes scanned the prisoners for sign of Sam, but he wasn’t there. “Where the hell is he?”
“We may not be able to come back for them.”
“Fuck.” John sighed explosively. “You get them out, I’ll go for Sam.”
“You sure?”
John looked at him and shook his head. “What other choice do we have? Keep them quiet, and don’t get caught.”
“You too.”
John stopped him as he started to move into the room. “And…keep an eye on Dean for me, okay?”
Caleb smiled and nodded before moving into the room. John let the door shut behind him. “Okay Sam. Where the hell are you?”
“Now, I think that you’re being unreasonable.” Sam said quickly. One of the men was moving behind him and loosening the bindings that held his wrists. “Clearly the best deal for both of us is for you to get the money you came for.”
James smiled. “Clearly, Mr. Winchester, you are stalling. Perhaps you are under the mistaken impression that someone is coming for you. I assure you, this facility is quite secure.”
Sam’s hands were pulled from the chair and rebound. “I can…” The third man had his left leg loose. “Shit.” He struggled, kicking out with the free foot and landing a solid blow to the man’s face. A huge hand slammed into his face and sent the chair crashing over backwards. Sam yelled as his weight pressed against his bound hands and the chair.
The other leg was free and Sam was hauled to his feet, suddenly face to face with James. “As of this moment, you have no name. As of this moment you have no purpose. You are nothing. You are no one. You are alone. You belong to me. Everything that is about to happen to you is because I wish it to be so.” He held up a knife between them. Very slowly and deliberately he cut down the middle of Sam’s shirt and pushed the sides apart. The men on either side of him held him tight and Razz stood behind him as the knife descended toward his chest. Just as deliberately, James pressed the point of the knife into his skin just above and slightly to the left of his left nipple. He watched Sam’s face as he deftly carved a “J” into his skin. “This is my mark, so everyone will know that you belong to me. So that everyone will know that you are nothing, no one, alone.”
With that James stepped back and turned away. “I have a few new recruits to examine. Do be sure you don’t break any more bones, Razz. I’d hate to have to forfeit your bonus like the last time.”
“Can’t wait to get inside that tight little ass, boy.” Razz said. Sam could feel his hands on the waist of his jeans. He lashed out, kicking and flailing, doubling over and managing to get one hand free. A few seconds of struggling and he was loose, though it only lasted a few steps, then a hand was around the back of his neck. “I like it rough…keep fighting.”
The first shot took everyone by surprise, echoing around the room and Sam threw himself to the ground, rolling free of the tangle of legs and arms as the three men tried to grab him. He didn’t get far, fingers digging into his throat as he was grabbed and turned. Razz had him by the throat, pulling him up against his already hard cock and grinding against him, even as John leveled his gun.
“This must be my lucky day. I get the complete set!” Razz growled. “Come to watch me fuck your boy, old man?” His free hand was shoving down the back of Sam’s jeans and he tried to jerk away, but stopped as fingers crushed against his windpipe.
“I will kill you.” John said. “Let him go and step away.”
“Maybe when I’m done with this little cock-whore, I’ll leave the sloppy leftovers to the boys, and give you a go.”
John took two steps into the room, kicking the door closed behind him. “Let him go, now.” John fired and Sam felt the breeze as the bullet sang past his cheek. He felt hot blood splatter his face and he staggered backwards with Razz.
“Son of a bitch!” Razz’s hand left Sam’s ass and pressed against the bleeding graze on his neck. “What are you two shits waiting for? Take care of him…but don’t hurt him too much…the Master’s going to love this.”
The two men rushed John, another shot rang out before the gun went skittered away, while Razz manhandled Sam over to the desk, using his body weight to bend him over. “Now let’s see about that sweet ass.”
Sam bucked, but Razz out weighed him and was in a stronger position. He tried again, and Razz hit him across the back of the head, where he already had a sizeable knot from when they’d grabbed him. His vision swam and he had to concentrate to avoid passing out.
There was a tearing sound, as Razz ripped the seam out of Sam’s well worn jeans, and then Sam felt hands on the bare skin of his ass. “That’s it boys…bring Daddy over here so he can watch.” Sam looked up as the bigger of the other two men pressed John to his knees beside the desk. His face was bleeding, his lip split. John was breathing heavily and Sam thought he looked like he might pass out.
No. He wasn’t going to let this happen. He felt Razz positioning himself, felt a finger invading him. “Yeah…sweet little ass you got, slave boy. You gonna squeal for me like your brother did? Or are you gonna beg for it? I like me a pretty boy who begs. You ready for me?”
Sam was hyperventilating, his eyes locked on his father’s. His stomach hurt where he was pressed against the edge of the desk. It was all wrong and so unreal. The finger moved and Razz pulled his cheeks apart, leaning in. Sam felt the touch of his cock and stiffened.
There was a faint clicking sound.
Razz froze.
“Sam?” There was a quaver in the voice, a catch in the breath.
“Dean.” His father’s nod confirmed it.
“Okay Razz…this is where you back off.” Sam said, pushing up. As the weight lifted he stood and turned. Dean had a gun shoved against Razz’s belly, pointed down at the base of his cock. Dean wasn’t looking at Razz though. He was looking at Sam with a mixture of confusion and fear.
“What do you think you’re doing, slave?” Razz asked. Sam could see Dean quavering.
“Give me the gun Dean.”
“Don’t listen to him, slave. He’s nothing. He’s no one.” Razz reached for Dean, his hand fisting in his hair. “On your knees.”
Before anyone could move, Dean pulled the trigger. Razz screamed, collapsing to the floor. “He’s my Sam.” Dean said, quietly but fiercely. “Now you’re no one.”
“My god, Dean, give me the gun.”
Dean looked frightened as he gave up the gun and Sam tried to sooth him by reaching his free hand out for his brother’s as he trained the gun on the man to his father’s left. “I’m a better shot than my brother, wanna bet whether or not I can blow your dicks off from here, or you gonna back the hell off?” Both men raised their hands and stepped back. John struggled to his feet.
Sam’s eyes flicked briefly to his father’s, then two shots rang out and the two thugs fell to the floor, a bullet through each forehead.
“Sam!”
His hand didn’t shake as he looked at his father, then turned and leveled the gun at Razz who was writhing on the ground.
“Sam…you’re just going to kill them?”
“They aren’t the first. I’m sure they won’t be the last.” He squeezed the trigger and shot Razz between the eyes. “I told you before, I had to do things you wouldn’t approve of to get Dean. If you can’t deal with that-“
“Sam?”
He could feel Dean shaking. He moved closer and pressed himself against his brother. “Stay with me Dean. I’m going to get us out of here.”
Sam pulled Dean toward the door, opening it enough to peek through. “Shit.” He closed the door. “The hallway’s full of men, moving prisoners. We can’t go that way.”
He turned back to Dean. “How did you get in, Dean?”
Dean shoulders were hunched forward, his eyes on the floor. “Dean?”
A low, keening sound was coming out of Dean as he rocked forward and Sam released his hand to switch hands with the gun and caress Dean’s face.
“Sam, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“Yeah Dad. Little busy at the moment.” Sam leaned toward Dean and he cringed away. “Come on Dean. We have to go. I need you to stay with me.”
Sam heard the sound of a cell phone dialing and looked up. “Who are you calling?”
John glanced at him and lifted the phone to his ear. “Caleb, he took some prisoners out-“
Sam took a step closer. “Caleb? You called Caleb? Holy fuck, Dad.”
John lowered the phone. “Watch your mouth-“
“How do you think they found us?” Sam asked, stalking toward his father. “How the fuck did they find us here? In fucking Tulsa, Dad?” Sam glanced back at Dean as he moved toward the corner, his hands around his head in obvious distress.
“Caleb would never-“
“No?” Sam blew out a heavy breath. “Somebody did. Who else did you call?”
“I was trying to help.”
Sam closed his eyes. He had never in his life felt the anger coursing through him at that moment. “Who the fuck did you call?”
John rubbed a hand over his face. “Everyone…I mean…for different things. No one knows…not exactly…but we have to find the top guys, we have to end this.”
Yes, they did. Sam knew that. They had to find out who betrayed them. They had to finish Gorlian for good. Even if another would take his place. “Yes, Dad…but someone you called-“ He stopped, seeing understanding starting to dawn on his father.
“Not Caleb.” John said after a minute.
Sam sighed. He tended to agree not Caleb. But he wasn’t really ready to devote thought to blaming the people his father trusted, not when they still needed to get out of there without further traumatizing Dean. Dean. He turned, starting when Dean wasn’t where he had last seen him. “Dean?”
“Shit.” John turned, looking around them. “Where did he go?”
“Dean?”
Sam moved to the only thing that could hide a man, and found Dean huddled under the desk. “Dean, come on out.” He touched Dean’s shoulder and he stiffened, pulling away and hiding his head under his arm. Sam went to one knee, rubbing his hand gently over Dean’s arm. “It’s okay Dean, come on out. Dad and I are going to take care of you.”
“Nothing. No one. Alone. Hurt. Punished.” Dean rocked, ignoring Sam completely.
“He’s gone.” Sam said to his father. Squatting there beside Dean, his backside felt completely exposed. “We’re not going to get him out of here like this.”
“We’ll have to carry him. Let me call Caleb, get a distraction. See if we can clear the hall. I know the way out.”
Sam nodded, pulling off his ruined shirt and tying it around his waist to cover his exposed ass.
John lifted the phone again, nodding as Caleb picked up. “No, we’ve got Dean. We need a distraction.” He switched ears and moved toward the door. “No, it’s good. Have the car ready.” He hung up and peeked through the door. “The police are on the way. Caleb’s going to see what he can do to rile things up, draw them out.”
Sam nodded, hoping that they could still trust Caleb. His head was swimming. The knot on the back of his head throbbed and the room was starting to spin. He sat down hard. “You okay, Sam?” John asked, moving closer.
“Concussion probably. Keep an eye on the door.” Sam’s hand cupped the swollen spot, trying to gauge the level on injury. His nose throbbed in time with the knot and between them his head hurt intensely. “Shit.”
“Any minute now.”
As if to prove his point, there was an explosion. John checked the hallway. “Now, they’re all leaving.”
Sam stood, only to fall back to the ground. As John reached for him he shook his head. “Get Dean.” John pushed the desk and scooped Dean up like he was a child, ignoring his startled stiffening and striding quickly to the door. “Sam?”
“Right behind you.” He struggled to his feet and staggered to the door. They’d only gotten a few yards when the world was swimming and Sam was holding the wall to keep from falling. He closed his eyes, hoping to hold off the vertigo, but it only made it worse. He was aware of his father’s hand on his arm amid the dark and stars and swirling colors, but couldn’t bring it into focus. “Get Dean out. Come back.”
“No. We go together.”
“Dad! Just get him out.” Sam fell back against the wall, pushing his back into it to keep from falling down. Dean was beside him, his eyes wide, leaning against the wall. “Dean…go with Dad.”
“My Sam.” Frantic fingers fumbled against Sam’s hand and he was vaguely conscious of holding to them as John tried to assess the damage.
“I’m fine Dad. Just a little woozy.”
“Shit this is a mess Sam.” John said, his fingers pressing against the wound. “You aren’t fine.”
Dean was pressing his face closer trying to see. His fingers brushed over the “J” carved into Sam’s skin. “You take Sam.” He said to John who nodded.
“No.” Sam protested, even as his father lifted his arm up over his shoulder and started moving them down the corridor.
“Shut up Sam.” John said, glancing behind to be sure Dean was coming.
The bullet that ripped through Sam’s side and into the wall was nearly silent, but it dropped John and Sam both to the floor and left Dean alone to turn to face the shooter. Sam got his head up just in time to see Dean start to shake and go to his knees. His eyes tracked up to find James holding a gun on them and fisting his hair in Dean’s hair. “I can see I underestimated you.”
Sam turned over, even as John sat up. James flicked his gaze over John then came back to Sam. “On your knees, boy.”
“I don’t think so.”
His hand tightened and pulled Dean’s head up and back. “Open your mouth, slave.” Dean glanced at Sam, his face white, and slowly complied. James put the gun into it. “I said, on your knees, boy.”
Sam complied, holding his bleeding side. He was rapidly loosing his capacity to function. Beside him he could feel his father seething. James turned his attention to the eldest Winchester. “I suggest you join your sons in submission, Mr. Winchester.”
“Fuck you.”
James smiled. He pulled the gun from Dean’s mouth and trained it on Sam. “Tell me what you are, slave.”
“Nothing. No one. Alone.” Dean said softly, his eyes on the ground.
“Who owns you, slave?”
Dean looked up at him with fear in his eyes. “My Sam.”
“Wrong. Your Sam belongs to me slave. Just as you do. You saw my mark on him.”
Dean swallowed. He had seen. He knew. Sam lied. Sam stole. Sam owned his heart…but his body…He bent his head forward, offering his neck. A hand descended on his neck, on the collar. A small sob escaped him as the collar came loose and fell to the floor. Punishment was inevitable now. Punishment and training.
“Dean, this man doesn’t own you.” His father said it, from beside Sam. “No one owns you.”
The gun rang out, and Sam fell backwards, the shot eating into his other side. Dean bent forward, his face to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut. “Nothing. No one. Good. I’ll be good. Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt Sam.”
“I suggest, Mr. Winchester, for the sake of your boy, that you get on your knees and shut your mouth.” Another shot rang out, but this time it was James’ that pitched forward. John jumped up and grabbed him, throwing him into the nearest wall.
“John?” Caleb came running up the corridor.
“Get Sam.” John said, already moving toward Dean. Dean’s body was rigid, a litany of words pouring from him. “Come on. Dean. We don’t have time.” After a minute of fighting trying to pull Dean upright he cursed and slipped his arms under his knees and around his back, grunting as he lifted him from the floor.
Caleb supported Sam with one arm over his shoulder and Caleb’s hand on Sam’s waist and led them toward the side entrance he’d slipped into. He put Sam in the back of his car and John deposited Dean beside him before climbing into the passenger seat. “Get us out of here.” John dropped his head against the back of the seat.
He had to believe he could salvage this. He had his boys. Sam was hurting, his eyes closed, sweat pinning his hair to his head. Dean had his knees bent up to his chest, his face buried against his legs. Neither of them moved. “Hospital?” Caleb asked and John shook his head.
“No, Sam would be pissed…and Dean…can’t handle it. What did you tell the police?”
Caleb looked at him funny, then back to the road. “That there were people being held against their will. What’s going on here?”
John closed his eyes. He’d nearly been forced to watch Sam be raped. He’d just watched Sam kill three human beings in cold blood. He’d witnessed Dean on his knees, giving himself up…”Slaves,” he said quietly. “They make them slaves.”
Caleb cursed and nearly drove off the road looking at John. “Is that what’s wrong with Dean? Did they…?”
John nodded. “He was gone so long…and I couldn’t find him…but Sam…Sam found him.” He was tired. Unbelievably tired. “We need a hotel. Need to patch Sam up.”
“Obviously we can’t go back to the one you were at.” Caleb said. “I’ll get you three into a room, then go get your things.”
John nodded. “You got a first aid kit?”
“In the trunk.”
John wasn’t sure where to start. Sam had lapsed into unconsciousness and Dean was catatonic. He didn’t like leaving either of them alone, and he didn’t like leaving either of them with Caleb. Not that he didn’t trust Caleb…it was just that…well, he didn’t know if he could. Not anymore.
Caleb got out of the car and opened the door to the room, propping it open and coming back to help. John opened Dean’s door, hoping he could coax him out and into the room under his own power, but one look told him that was not happening. “Okay, Dean, I’m taking you inside.”
It took him a minute to maneuver Dean out of the car and heft him, but he managed, setting him as gently as possible on one of the beds. “I’ve got to get your brother Dean. Stay here.”
Caleb had Sam out and nearly standing when John got there, ducking under Sam’s other arm and supporting him as they moved him into the room. They laid him out on the second bed and John nodded. “Okay. Get me the first aid kit and I’ll take care of them.” He tossed the key to his room toward Caleb. “Name of the hotel’s on there. I’m in 18. The boys are in 14.” He sighed and fished in Sam’s pocket for the key. “It isn’t here. You’ll have to break in.”
Caleb nodded and headed out for the first aid kit. He tossed it on the bed beside Sam when he came back. “I won’t be long. Get him stable and we’ll take him to Bobby’s. It should be safe enough there.”
John nodded, not really sure if he agreed or not. If Sam was right, and one of his own had betrayed them, there might not be any safe haven left to them. He looked at Dean who hadn’t moved. He was beginning to appreciate the work Sam had done with his brother, no matter what he suspected it entailed. “Bring some food when you come back. It might be a few days before he’s stable enough to move.”
It was few minutes after the door closed behind Caleb before John moved. He got towels and water and moved to Sam’s side. It was possible Dean needed him more, but John just didn’t know how to help him. He stared at his eldest son for a minute as he held himself tightly and stared at the floor. Then, with a sigh, he turned to the youngest and started to clean his wounds.
Twenty minutes later, he had Sam bandaged and shot full of antibiotics and pain reliever. He went to kneel beside Dean, but his hands were shaking and Dean cringed and John could only lower his head and back away. Slowly, he moved to the door, letting himself outside and closing the door before leaning against it.
The sobs came over him, and he slid down the door, burying his face in his hands. He’d always been able to fix his boys…patch them up, toughen them up…something…but they’d never been like this…so broken…so unreachable…He didn’t begin to know how to fix this…and he was beginning to suspect he never would.
Title: Nothing, No One, Alone
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Caleb
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3714
Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken and To Be Strong. Dean was kidnapped and made into a slave. Sam bought him back, but he paid for him with a bunch of paper conjured to look like $85,000...now the men who sold Dean want their money...or their slave back...and they'll settle for both.
A/Ns and Warnings: Slave!Dean, torture and rape...not exactly pretty stuff here.
John put down a guard with a strong left hook and dragged him out of the corridor. So far he and Caleb had done the same with five others. Caleb beckoned him to the door and he peered inside. Ten cages lined one side of a long room, at least six of them occupied.
“We can’t leave them here.” Caleb whispered.
“We can’t take them with us either.” John whispered back. His eyes scanned the prisoners for sign of Sam, but he wasn’t there. “Where the hell is he?”
“We may not be able to come back for them.”
“Fuck.” John sighed explosively. “You get them out, I’ll go for Sam.”
“You sure?”
John looked at him and shook his head. “What other choice do we have? Keep them quiet, and don’t get caught.”
“You too.”
John stopped him as he started to move into the room. “And…keep an eye on Dean for me, okay?”
Caleb smiled and nodded before moving into the room. John let the door shut behind him. “Okay Sam. Where the hell are you?”
“Now, I think that you’re being unreasonable.” Sam said quickly. One of the men was moving behind him and loosening the bindings that held his wrists. “Clearly the best deal for both of us is for you to get the money you came for.”
James smiled. “Clearly, Mr. Winchester, you are stalling. Perhaps you are under the mistaken impression that someone is coming for you. I assure you, this facility is quite secure.”
Sam’s hands were pulled from the chair and rebound. “I can…” The third man had his left leg loose. “Shit.” He struggled, kicking out with the free foot and landing a solid blow to the man’s face. A huge hand slammed into his face and sent the chair crashing over backwards. Sam yelled as his weight pressed against his bound hands and the chair.
The other leg was free and Sam was hauled to his feet, suddenly face to face with James. “As of this moment, you have no name. As of this moment you have no purpose. You are nothing. You are no one. You are alone. You belong to me. Everything that is about to happen to you is because I wish it to be so.” He held up a knife between them. Very slowly and deliberately he cut down the middle of Sam’s shirt and pushed the sides apart. The men on either side of him held him tight and Razz stood behind him as the knife descended toward his chest. Just as deliberately, James pressed the point of the knife into his skin just above and slightly to the left of his left nipple. He watched Sam’s face as he deftly carved a “J” into his skin. “This is my mark, so everyone will know that you belong to me. So that everyone will know that you are nothing, no one, alone.”
With that James stepped back and turned away. “I have a few new recruits to examine. Do be sure you don’t break any more bones, Razz. I’d hate to have to forfeit your bonus like the last time.”
“Can’t wait to get inside that tight little ass, boy.” Razz said. Sam could feel his hands on the waist of his jeans. He lashed out, kicking and flailing, doubling over and managing to get one hand free. A few seconds of struggling and he was loose, though it only lasted a few steps, then a hand was around the back of his neck. “I like it rough…keep fighting.”
The first shot took everyone by surprise, echoing around the room and Sam threw himself to the ground, rolling free of the tangle of legs and arms as the three men tried to grab him. He didn’t get far, fingers digging into his throat as he was grabbed and turned. Razz had him by the throat, pulling him up against his already hard cock and grinding against him, even as John leveled his gun.
“This must be my lucky day. I get the complete set!” Razz growled. “Come to watch me fuck your boy, old man?” His free hand was shoving down the back of Sam’s jeans and he tried to jerk away, but stopped as fingers crushed against his windpipe.
“I will kill you.” John said. “Let him go and step away.”
“Maybe when I’m done with this little cock-whore, I’ll leave the sloppy leftovers to the boys, and give you a go.”
John took two steps into the room, kicking the door closed behind him. “Let him go, now.” John fired and Sam felt the breeze as the bullet sang past his cheek. He felt hot blood splatter his face and he staggered backwards with Razz.
“Son of a bitch!” Razz’s hand left Sam’s ass and pressed against the bleeding graze on his neck. “What are you two shits waiting for? Take care of him…but don’t hurt him too much…the Master’s going to love this.”
The two men rushed John, another shot rang out before the gun went skittered away, while Razz manhandled Sam over to the desk, using his body weight to bend him over. “Now let’s see about that sweet ass.”
Sam bucked, but Razz out weighed him and was in a stronger position. He tried again, and Razz hit him across the back of the head, where he already had a sizeable knot from when they’d grabbed him. His vision swam and he had to concentrate to avoid passing out.
There was a tearing sound, as Razz ripped the seam out of Sam’s well worn jeans, and then Sam felt hands on the bare skin of his ass. “That’s it boys…bring Daddy over here so he can watch.” Sam looked up as the bigger of the other two men pressed John to his knees beside the desk. His face was bleeding, his lip split. John was breathing heavily and Sam thought he looked like he might pass out.
No. He wasn’t going to let this happen. He felt Razz positioning himself, felt a finger invading him. “Yeah…sweet little ass you got, slave boy. You gonna squeal for me like your brother did? Or are you gonna beg for it? I like me a pretty boy who begs. You ready for me?”
Sam was hyperventilating, his eyes locked on his father’s. His stomach hurt where he was pressed against the edge of the desk. It was all wrong and so unreal. The finger moved and Razz pulled his cheeks apart, leaning in. Sam felt the touch of his cock and stiffened.
There was a faint clicking sound.
Razz froze.
“Sam?” There was a quaver in the voice, a catch in the breath.
“Dean.” His father’s nod confirmed it.
“Okay Razz…this is where you back off.” Sam said, pushing up. As the weight lifted he stood and turned. Dean had a gun shoved against Razz’s belly, pointed down at the base of his cock. Dean wasn’t looking at Razz though. He was looking at Sam with a mixture of confusion and fear.
“What do you think you’re doing, slave?” Razz asked. Sam could see Dean quavering.
“Give me the gun Dean.”
“Don’t listen to him, slave. He’s nothing. He’s no one.” Razz reached for Dean, his hand fisting in his hair. “On your knees.”
Before anyone could move, Dean pulled the trigger. Razz screamed, collapsing to the floor. “He’s my Sam.” Dean said, quietly but fiercely. “Now you’re no one.”
“My god, Dean, give me the gun.”
Dean looked frightened as he gave up the gun and Sam tried to sooth him by reaching his free hand out for his brother’s as he trained the gun on the man to his father’s left. “I’m a better shot than my brother, wanna bet whether or not I can blow your dicks off from here, or you gonna back the hell off?” Both men raised their hands and stepped back. John struggled to his feet.
Sam’s eyes flicked briefly to his father’s, then two shots rang out and the two thugs fell to the floor, a bullet through each forehead.
“Sam!”
His hand didn’t shake as he looked at his father, then turned and leveled the gun at Razz who was writhing on the ground.
“Sam…you’re just going to kill them?”
“They aren’t the first. I’m sure they won’t be the last.” He squeezed the trigger and shot Razz between the eyes. “I told you before, I had to do things you wouldn’t approve of to get Dean. If you can’t deal with that-“
“Sam?”
He could feel Dean shaking. He moved closer and pressed himself against his brother. “Stay with me Dean. I’m going to get us out of here.”
Sam pulled Dean toward the door, opening it enough to peek through. “Shit.” He closed the door. “The hallway’s full of men, moving prisoners. We can’t go that way.”
He turned back to Dean. “How did you get in, Dean?”
Dean shoulders were hunched forward, his eyes on the floor. “Dean?”
A low, keening sound was coming out of Dean as he rocked forward and Sam released his hand to switch hands with the gun and caress Dean’s face.
“Sam, we’ve got to get out of here.”
“Yeah Dad. Little busy at the moment.” Sam leaned toward Dean and he cringed away. “Come on Dean. We have to go. I need you to stay with me.”
Sam heard the sound of a cell phone dialing and looked up. “Who are you calling?”
John glanced at him and lifted the phone to his ear. “Caleb, he took some prisoners out-“
Sam took a step closer. “Caleb? You called Caleb? Holy fuck, Dad.”
John lowered the phone. “Watch your mouth-“
“How do you think they found us?” Sam asked, stalking toward his father. “How the fuck did they find us here? In fucking Tulsa, Dad?” Sam glanced back at Dean as he moved toward the corner, his hands around his head in obvious distress.
“Caleb would never-“
“No?” Sam blew out a heavy breath. “Somebody did. Who else did you call?”
“I was trying to help.”
Sam closed his eyes. He had never in his life felt the anger coursing through him at that moment. “Who the fuck did you call?”
John rubbed a hand over his face. “Everyone…I mean…for different things. No one knows…not exactly…but we have to find the top guys, we have to end this.”
Yes, they did. Sam knew that. They had to find out who betrayed them. They had to finish Gorlian for good. Even if another would take his place. “Yes, Dad…but someone you called-“ He stopped, seeing understanding starting to dawn on his father.
“Not Caleb.” John said after a minute.
Sam sighed. He tended to agree not Caleb. But he wasn’t really ready to devote thought to blaming the people his father trusted, not when they still needed to get out of there without further traumatizing Dean. Dean. He turned, starting when Dean wasn’t where he had last seen him. “Dean?”
“Shit.” John turned, looking around them. “Where did he go?”
“Dean?”
Sam moved to the only thing that could hide a man, and found Dean huddled under the desk. “Dean, come on out.” He touched Dean’s shoulder and he stiffened, pulling away and hiding his head under his arm. Sam went to one knee, rubbing his hand gently over Dean’s arm. “It’s okay Dean, come on out. Dad and I are going to take care of you.”
“Nothing. No one. Alone. Hurt. Punished.” Dean rocked, ignoring Sam completely.
“He’s gone.” Sam said to his father. Squatting there beside Dean, his backside felt completely exposed. “We’re not going to get him out of here like this.”
“We’ll have to carry him. Let me call Caleb, get a distraction. See if we can clear the hall. I know the way out.”
Sam nodded, pulling off his ruined shirt and tying it around his waist to cover his exposed ass.
John lifted the phone again, nodding as Caleb picked up. “No, we’ve got Dean. We need a distraction.” He switched ears and moved toward the door. “No, it’s good. Have the car ready.” He hung up and peeked through the door. “The police are on the way. Caleb’s going to see what he can do to rile things up, draw them out.”
Sam nodded, hoping that they could still trust Caleb. His head was swimming. The knot on the back of his head throbbed and the room was starting to spin. He sat down hard. “You okay, Sam?” John asked, moving closer.
“Concussion probably. Keep an eye on the door.” Sam’s hand cupped the swollen spot, trying to gauge the level on injury. His nose throbbed in time with the knot and between them his head hurt intensely. “Shit.”
“Any minute now.”
As if to prove his point, there was an explosion. John checked the hallway. “Now, they’re all leaving.”
Sam stood, only to fall back to the ground. As John reached for him he shook his head. “Get Dean.” John pushed the desk and scooped Dean up like he was a child, ignoring his startled stiffening and striding quickly to the door. “Sam?”
“Right behind you.” He struggled to his feet and staggered to the door. They’d only gotten a few yards when the world was swimming and Sam was holding the wall to keep from falling. He closed his eyes, hoping to hold off the vertigo, but it only made it worse. He was aware of his father’s hand on his arm amid the dark and stars and swirling colors, but couldn’t bring it into focus. “Get Dean out. Come back.”
“No. We go together.”
“Dad! Just get him out.” Sam fell back against the wall, pushing his back into it to keep from falling down. Dean was beside him, his eyes wide, leaning against the wall. “Dean…go with Dad.”
“My Sam.” Frantic fingers fumbled against Sam’s hand and he was vaguely conscious of holding to them as John tried to assess the damage.
“I’m fine Dad. Just a little woozy.”
“Shit this is a mess Sam.” John said, his fingers pressing against the wound. “You aren’t fine.”
Dean was pressing his face closer trying to see. His fingers brushed over the “J” carved into Sam’s skin. “You take Sam.” He said to John who nodded.
“No.” Sam protested, even as his father lifted his arm up over his shoulder and started moving them down the corridor.
“Shut up Sam.” John said, glancing behind to be sure Dean was coming.
The bullet that ripped through Sam’s side and into the wall was nearly silent, but it dropped John and Sam both to the floor and left Dean alone to turn to face the shooter. Sam got his head up just in time to see Dean start to shake and go to his knees. His eyes tracked up to find James holding a gun on them and fisting his hair in Dean’s hair. “I can see I underestimated you.”
Sam turned over, even as John sat up. James flicked his gaze over John then came back to Sam. “On your knees, boy.”
“I don’t think so.”
His hand tightened and pulled Dean’s head up and back. “Open your mouth, slave.” Dean glanced at Sam, his face white, and slowly complied. James put the gun into it. “I said, on your knees, boy.”
Sam complied, holding his bleeding side. He was rapidly loosing his capacity to function. Beside him he could feel his father seething. James turned his attention to the eldest Winchester. “I suggest you join your sons in submission, Mr. Winchester.”
“Fuck you.”
James smiled. He pulled the gun from Dean’s mouth and trained it on Sam. “Tell me what you are, slave.”
“Nothing. No one. Alone.” Dean said softly, his eyes on the ground.
“Who owns you, slave?”
Dean looked up at him with fear in his eyes. “My Sam.”
“Wrong. Your Sam belongs to me slave. Just as you do. You saw my mark on him.”
Dean swallowed. He had seen. He knew. Sam lied. Sam stole. Sam owned his heart…but his body…He bent his head forward, offering his neck. A hand descended on his neck, on the collar. A small sob escaped him as the collar came loose and fell to the floor. Punishment was inevitable now. Punishment and training.
“Dean, this man doesn’t own you.” His father said it, from beside Sam. “No one owns you.”
The gun rang out, and Sam fell backwards, the shot eating into his other side. Dean bent forward, his face to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut. “Nothing. No one. Good. I’ll be good. Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt Sam.”
“I suggest, Mr. Winchester, for the sake of your boy, that you get on your knees and shut your mouth.” Another shot rang out, but this time it was James’ that pitched forward. John jumped up and grabbed him, throwing him into the nearest wall.
“John?” Caleb came running up the corridor.
“Get Sam.” John said, already moving toward Dean. Dean’s body was rigid, a litany of words pouring from him. “Come on. Dean. We don’t have time.” After a minute of fighting trying to pull Dean upright he cursed and slipped his arms under his knees and around his back, grunting as he lifted him from the floor.
Caleb supported Sam with one arm over his shoulder and Caleb’s hand on Sam’s waist and led them toward the side entrance he’d slipped into. He put Sam in the back of his car and John deposited Dean beside him before climbing into the passenger seat. “Get us out of here.” John dropped his head against the back of the seat.
He had to believe he could salvage this. He had his boys. Sam was hurting, his eyes closed, sweat pinning his hair to his head. Dean had his knees bent up to his chest, his face buried against his legs. Neither of them moved. “Hospital?” Caleb asked and John shook his head.
“No, Sam would be pissed…and Dean…can’t handle it. What did you tell the police?”
Caleb looked at him funny, then back to the road. “That there were people being held against their will. What’s going on here?”
John closed his eyes. He’d nearly been forced to watch Sam be raped. He’d just watched Sam kill three human beings in cold blood. He’d witnessed Dean on his knees, giving himself up…”Slaves,” he said quietly. “They make them slaves.”
Caleb cursed and nearly drove off the road looking at John. “Is that what’s wrong with Dean? Did they…?”
John nodded. “He was gone so long…and I couldn’t find him…but Sam…Sam found him.” He was tired. Unbelievably tired. “We need a hotel. Need to patch Sam up.”
“Obviously we can’t go back to the one you were at.” Caleb said. “I’ll get you three into a room, then go get your things.”
John nodded. “You got a first aid kit?”
“In the trunk.”
John wasn’t sure where to start. Sam had lapsed into unconsciousness and Dean was catatonic. He didn’t like leaving either of them alone, and he didn’t like leaving either of them with Caleb. Not that he didn’t trust Caleb…it was just that…well, he didn’t know if he could. Not anymore.
Caleb got out of the car and opened the door to the room, propping it open and coming back to help. John opened Dean’s door, hoping he could coax him out and into the room under his own power, but one look told him that was not happening. “Okay, Dean, I’m taking you inside.”
It took him a minute to maneuver Dean out of the car and heft him, but he managed, setting him as gently as possible on one of the beds. “I’ve got to get your brother Dean. Stay here.”
Caleb had Sam out and nearly standing when John got there, ducking under Sam’s other arm and supporting him as they moved him into the room. They laid him out on the second bed and John nodded. “Okay. Get me the first aid kit and I’ll take care of them.” He tossed the key to his room toward Caleb. “Name of the hotel’s on there. I’m in 18. The boys are in 14.” He sighed and fished in Sam’s pocket for the key. “It isn’t here. You’ll have to break in.”
Caleb nodded and headed out for the first aid kit. He tossed it on the bed beside Sam when he came back. “I won’t be long. Get him stable and we’ll take him to Bobby’s. It should be safe enough there.”
John nodded, not really sure if he agreed or not. If Sam was right, and one of his own had betrayed them, there might not be any safe haven left to them. He looked at Dean who hadn’t moved. He was beginning to appreciate the work Sam had done with his brother, no matter what he suspected it entailed. “Bring some food when you come back. It might be a few days before he’s stable enough to move.”
It was few minutes after the door closed behind Caleb before John moved. He got towels and water and moved to Sam’s side. It was possible Dean needed him more, but John just didn’t know how to help him. He stared at his eldest son for a minute as he held himself tightly and stared at the floor. Then, with a sigh, he turned to the youngest and started to clean his wounds.
Twenty minutes later, he had Sam bandaged and shot full of antibiotics and pain reliever. He went to kneel beside Dean, but his hands were shaking and Dean cringed and John could only lower his head and back away. Slowly, he moved to the door, letting himself outside and closing the door before leaning against it.
The sobs came over him, and he slid down the door, burying his face in his hands. He’d always been able to fix his boys…patch them up, toughen them up…something…but they’d never been like this…so broken…so unreachable…He didn’t begin to know how to fix this…and he was beginning to suspect he never would.