Damn Hurt/Comfort Writers, (1/1) Xover Supernatural, Leverage, White Collar
Consciousness swept over Sam Winchester in a wave, one minute he had been blissfully oblivious to the world and the next he was suddenly, shockingly awake. He leapt to his full impressive height, turning in a slow circle with only one thought on his mind...”Dean...Dean...Damnit Dean, where the fuck are you?” He let the panic that had been rising in his gut subside as he assessed the room where he was imprisoned.
Plain concrete walls greeted him, the cell was surprisingly large. In one corner there appeared to be a crude toilet which made his gut lurch, especially when he looked down and saw the mattresses, blankets and pillows on the floor. Shit, it looked like he could be here for the long haul. Now if he could only figure out where his big brother was.
It was then Sam realized he wasn’t alone in the room; there were two other men with him. Sam also counted how many mattresses there were, six in all, so who were the other two? He knew instinctively that Dean was here somewhere.
Again he fought down the urge to start hammering on the door, screaming for his brother. He thought he should see who the other guests were. Sam cautiously approached the men, one was a white man in his forties, wearing a suit that just screamed Fed and the other was a young, black man. Sam looked closely at the black man; there was something familiar about him but he just couldn’t place him at the moment.
The first to come round was the white man; he tried to sit up quickly but whatever drug had been used to knock them out was still having an effect and he slumped back down.
“Oh, dear God! I don’t remember drinking that much. Neal, if you roofied my drink again you are going straight back to jail.” The man groaned and he looked up at Sam hovering over him, it took a few seconds for him to focus. “You’re not Neal. Hell, where’s he gone now. Damn! This always happens. Hi, I’m Agent Peter Burke of the F.B.I White Collar Unit and you are?” Peter had by now managed to sit up and was concentrating on Sam.
Before Sam could respond there was another groan. Both men looked at their companion with concern, the man’s eyes opened, looked up at the ceiling then slammed shut. He put his hands on his eyes and rubbed at them vigorously, “Damnit Eliot, if this is your idea of a good time then I ain’t enjoying it. Shit! Wasn’t the damn fishing trip enough?” When he didn’t get an answer he opened his eyes and suddenly saw the looming figure of Sam.
He let out a squeak of terror, sat up and scooted along the wall, “Now look, man, I ain’t done nothing wrong. Well, nothing that you can prove. Now, why don’t you let me go before my friends come looking for me and it will be cool....? By the way, dude, have we met before? You look real familiar.”
Sam smiled at the nervous man and decided to introduce himself, “Hi, my name is Sam Winchester and this is Agent Peter Burke and I don’t know where the hell we are, and I didn’t catch your name.”
“Oh hi, I’m Alec Hardison and I don’t suppose you’ve seen a short guy with long hair and a real bad attitude, have you? Only we were on a job and we kinda need to get back to it.” Sam noticed that Alec kept putting his hand to his ear and waggling it. An unpleasant idea began to form and Sam swallowed hard.
“Oh God, no, not again. Look, are you missing a communication device? My phone is gone and so are my weapons. Can you please check yourselves?” Sam watched as Peter and Alec frantically patted themselves down.
Alec was cursing softly when he discovered all means of communication were gone as were Peter’s, along with his gun and his back-up piece. Sam sighed and he sat down on one of the mattresses, it was time to confirm his worst suspicions.
“So Alec, you and this Eliot were working a job? Peter, you and Neal too? By any chance could your line of work be deemed heroic?” Sam watched two faces, Peter remained perplexed but Alec was beginning to turn green.
“Ah damn, not again. Nate will kill me, the last time this happened it took weeks to put Eliot back together.” Alec let his head fall back and whimpered.
Peter was looking from one man to another, “What the hell are you two on about? My partner and I were on the verge of bringing down a multinational art fraud ring, the leader of which had just kidnapped my dear wife. Oh God, Elizabeth!” Peter leapt to his feet; Sam stood up wearily and stopped him from bashing his brains out against the door.
“Hey, Peter. If I promise to explain will you stop trying to kill yourself, and don’t worry about Elizabeth, she’ll be fine.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed, “What! Are you two in on this? Just tell me where she is. I’ll do anything!”
Sam patted the distraught man on the arm and sat him back down, “Well, Alec, where were you and Eliot when this happened?” Sam made himself comfortable. He knew they could be in for a long wait and he was looking forward to seeing how Peter would react to the news.
“Well, my team was just about to finish a con against an arms dealer who sidelines in human trafficking. When Eliot and me went bye-byes and dude, are you sure about this? Because some of those girls are downright nasty.” Alec looked pleadingly at Sam,
Sam just shook his head and sighed, “Nope, I think you got it. Dean and me were just about to take out a nest of vampires when it all went dark. Judging by the fact Dean is missing, I’d say there’s at least a bunch of ‘Dean’ girls out there. Crap! I just hope Bobby’s cleaned out the panic room. “
Peter looked at them as if they were insane, “What the hell are you two on about? My wife’s in danger, my partner’s missing and you two are talking ‘Dean’ girls and vampires, and by the way, grifting is a felony.” With that, he went quiet.
Sam looked at Alec, “Do you want to tell him or shall I?” Alec licked his lips and started to talk.
“Listen, Peter. Don’t ask me how to explain this, but out there is a world with something called fan girls and some of them write what we call Fan Fiction. The worst ones are the hurt/comfort writers. In those Fics, someone gets the shit beat out of them, and somebody else does the comforting. Now every so often me and Eliot find ourselves in situations like this, and believe me, it can get real nasty.” Alec went quiet so Sam took up the story.
“Our friend, Bobby calls it the fourth wall; somewhere out there is an alternative universe and sometimes the wall is thin enough for these girls to directly affect our lives. I mean, normally we would never meet. I guess Alec and I would stay the hell away from the F.B.I, no offense. It looks like a group of them have gotten together and are working with one another. I take it this your first time. It happens to me and Dean quite a lot in our line of work, we take it as part of the job. I just hope to God that we’ve been taken by either Alec’s arms dealer, or your international art fraudster, or better yet, a bunch of starving vamps. The alternative is just way too horrific to contemplate”
Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. Wonderful! He was locked up with two lunatics. That was all he needed, “So why aren’t you worried about your friends? I’m worried about Neal.”
“For a start, it’s my brother and yes, I’m damn worried about him. You have no idea what these fan girls can be capable of. I’ve been on the receiving end of some of these little parties. I wouldn’t even wish it on my worst enemy...ok, maybe Ruby, but that’s not the point. Look, just trust us and wait for them to bring the others back. ” Sam glared at Peter and saw Alec shake his head in wry amusement.
They sat in silence after that. Sam was fidgeting. It was taking too long, and finally he got up and began to rearrange the room. “What are you doing?” Peter asked.
Sam dragged two of the mattresses side by side. He saw Alec get with the programme and he did the same, “Look, Peter. Whether you believe me or not, you will want to be near your friend, Neal when he gets back, so it might be better to do this now rather than with him lying on it.”
Peter watched the other two men make up rudimentary beds. He was worried, they seemed too calm. Actually, ‘calm’ was the wrong word; more like resigned to what was happening. He stood up, took off his suit jacket and got to work, so his part of the cell mirrored the other two. The beds side by side, not too close but close enough for someone to sit in vigil over the ‘victim’. He was aware Sam and Alec were talking.
“So, what are you, man? Some kind of cop in a weird-ass police division I ain’t ever heard of?” Alec looked at Sam curiously. Sam shook his head at Alec.
“No, Dean and me are what are known as hunters. Short version - if it goes bump in the night we kill it. Or, according to Dean - if it’s female and hot, I’ll fall in love with it, have to kill it and spend the next six months angsting over it. So what are you guys, con men or what?”
Alec was grinning at him, “Oh, we’re con men alright but we right wrongs so to speak; you got a problem the law can’t solve and you come to us. That arms dealer was just going to find out if orange suited him.”
Sam nodded, “Sort of modern-day Robin hoods then. By the way, this Eliot... is he prone to being overprotective with added self-sacrificing tendencies?”
Alec laughed, “Oh, hell yeah, he’s our hitter. Look, I’m the group’s hacker, Parker’s our thief, Sophie is the grifter and Nate, well, he’s the brains. Your brother a bit overprotective, then?”
Sam just rolled his eyes, “Oh, don’t get me started, and I’ve had to patch him up more times than I want to remember. A lot of them were because he got between me and the damn fugly that was trying to kill me.” Both men looked at Peter.
“If you’re going to ask is Neal the derring-do type, then I’ll have to disappoint you. He uses his brains more than brawn. Although, he does have his moments of stupidity like Eliot and Dean, and I can’t even believe I’m discussing this.”
Sam considered this and looked at Peter, “Quietly heroic, prone to being sensitive and vulnerable under a veneer of supreme confidence. No doubt - a hit with the ladies. Perhaps single minded and even though he’s a criminal, fairly noble with a strict code. Am I close?”
Peter whistled, “Are you sure you’ve never met Neal? Anyway, say I believe your story, what do we do now? Just sit and wait, or what?” Peter could feel his frustration with the situation rising.
Alec stretched and yawned, “I hate to say it but yeah, that’s it, man. We need to ask whoever comes back first some questions. Then we’ll know what we’re up against. What time do you think they’ll feed us? After all, they’ll want us to keep our strength up. You can’t angst and mop fevered brows on an empty stomach.”
Just then the door flew open and the three men leapt to their feet. Two huge men stepped just inside with their hands resting on tazers on their belts. First of all, food and drink was brought in and placed by the door, then came a pile of medical supplies. These were delivered by women; they wore dark clothes and ski masks to hide their identity, the Henchmen’s faces were exposed in all their brutish glory.
Finally two more Henchmen came in, dragging a limp figure between them. The men dropped the figure on the floor and then a jacket and tie were thrown in and the door slammed shut. Peter gave a strangled cry of “Neal?” Then Sam leapt into action.
He knelt down and felt for a pulse. It was nice and strong and he heard a faint moaning. Even better, he was coming round, “Peter, help me get him on the bed. See, I told you it wasn’t a waste of time.”
As Peter helped Sam move Neal he looked at him and spoke, “Fan girls! Did you see the size of those gorillas! I’m telling you this is to do with Elizabeth. Neal, come on. I need to talk to you. Wake up.”
Neal’s blue eyes fluttered open and he squinted up at Peter, “Damn! It wasn’t a nightmare then. I really did just spend the last couple of hours being beaten.” Peter looked down at Neal in concern, his normally immaculate appearance was now a distant memory, and his shirt was torn and dirty. Neal was sporting some very fetching bruises. Neal noticed that he and Peter were not the only occupants of the room.
“Peter, who are our new friends? And why is the really large one holding my hand and looking at me as if I’m about to die?” Sam looked down at his hand realizing that he was indeed holding Neal’s hand. He let go suddenly but just before he could introduce himself the door slammed open again.
Sam stood up, along with Peter and Alec; once again the thugs appeared. Peter muttered, “Am I detecting a theme here?” As he said that another dishevelled figure was dragged in the room and dumped unceremoniously on the floor in a heap.
“Damnit, Eliot! What the hell has happened to you this time?” Alec knelt by his friend. By comparison Neal looked positively untouched. Eliot’s shirt was in tatters and the bruising to his face and body was more pronounced. Alec tried to lift the unconscious hitter, but after a couple of attempts he looked at Sam. “Don’t just stand there. Help me! This dude’s heavy, it’s all the damn muscle he’s got, along with his attitude, they weigh a ton.” Sam helped Alec move Eliot, and settled him on the bed. Sam was just about to talk to Neal when he heard...
“Hardison, if you don’t take your damn hand off my forehead you’ll lose fingers. Move it.” The hand that had been resting on his forehead was speedily removed.
“Ah, now don’t be like that, Eliot, I was just being comforting. You lie there and take it easy for a second. I think you may need to.” As soon as Alec finished, Eliot sat bolt upright and fixed Sam with the most aggressive pair of blue eyes Sam had ever seen. The only time he’d ever seen a look like that before was on Dean when he was being threatened. Sam stepped back and tried to look non-threatening, which, when you’re six foot four and built like a brick outhouse and hunt demons for a living, is impossible.
Alec put his hand on Eliot’s arm, flinching at the tension he felt there, “Now, play nicely, Eliot. Look, these guys are in the same boat as us. That guy you’re frying with the glare of death is Sam, the nervous-looking fed is Peter and the guy on the floor looking like you is Neal. Hey dude, have you seen another guy while you were having your workout?”
Eliot relaxed slightly. Alec’s little intro had downgraded the three men from target to possible targets. He looked at Alec and frowned, “Shit, there is another one of us? Ah crap, that must have been the poor bastard next door to me.”
On hearing those words Sam folded down onto his bed, put his head into his hands and moaned. “I knew it; I damn well knew it. We’ve been taken by a bunch of hurt/comfort writers. Ahhh, shit!”
Eliot looked startled, “What again? Shit! How come I’m the one getting the crap beaten out of him? I thought at the very least it was your turn, Hardison.” Eliot’s head fell forward and he sighed.
Peter had sat down by Neal, Neal looked at him puzzled, “Well, Neal, we seem to have fallen through the looking glass. According to these gentlemen we have been kidnapped by a group of crazed fan girls who write stories about us and.....” Before Peter could continue.
“Oh shit! So that’s what that typing was when I was being beaten and I wondered why nothing got broken. Peter, you can’t beat somebody for that long without serious damage and all I’ve got is a few bruises and slightly-torn shirt.”
Peter sat staring opened mouthed at the con man, “I’ve spent most of my life stealing antiquities, you get to hear things on your travels and I’ve heard of this before. And I’m sure I heard a woman’s voice say something about me being pretty when I got dirtied up. So then, who are we waiting for?”
Sam looked up mournfully, “My brother, Dean. God, I hope he’s alright. By the looks of you two, I dread to think what Dean’s gonna look like.” Just then the door opened and once more Henchman one and two appeared. This time when the body was dragged in, the gorilla holding it stood waiting. Sam stood up cautiously and suddenly found his brother’s battered form being thrust into his arms.
The door closed and Sam staggered under Dean’s dead weight. He realized that Eliot was beside him and between them they got Dean onto the bed. He lay unmoving, Sam by his side, Eliot and Alec stood on one side of the bed and Peter and Neal the other.
Sam was doing a quick inventory, “Ok, cuts and bruises. Oh, look, a black eye! They just love those on Dean; they think it brings out the colour of his eyes. Oh yes; another old favourite as well; a dislocated left shoulder. Ah well, the classics are always the best.” Sam was just about to put Dean’s shoulder back in place before he came to, when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.
“Sammy, are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” The voice was low and rasping as if the man had been screaming, the aforementioned eyes flew open and darted round his surroundings. He glared at the men standing over him.
“I have to say they’re right. It really does make his eyes a striking shade of green, that and the pale-green shirt he’s wearing.” Neal commented and he became aware of five pairs of eyes looking at him, “What I’m just saying is - his clothes are in better shape than mine and Eliot’s.”
Sam frowned at Neal and looked back at his brother; he was sure Dean had been wearing a plaid shirt earlier today, but there was no way on earth he was asking Dean about that. He couldn’t stand the ridicule. Dean struggled to sit up “And where the hell do you think you’re going?” Sam’s tone was exasperated as his brother moved.
Dean tilted his head back and smirked “Well, I was going to ask the nice girls outside to put my shoulder back as you guys seem a little preoccupied with my fashion choices. So, if it’s alright with you, Tyra, I’d like to be able to feel my fingers again.”
Eliot snorted with laughter. Hell, he could get on with this guy! The noise made Dean turn his head to look at him. Dean took in his appearance and gave him a wink then he looked at Alec “Dude, have we met before? I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” Alec shook his head and Dean gave a one-shouldered shrug, hissing as it jostled the injured shoulder.
“Ok Francis, whenever you’re ready and then you can fill me in on what’s happening, ‘cause dude, I ain’t happy. We just lost a nest of Edward wannabes.” Dean slowly moved his left hand out to Sam.
Sam took a careful hold, figuring out the best way to do this. Eliot crouched down by Dean, tapped him on his shoulder. Dean looked at him gratefully and he wrapped his right arm round Eliot, as Eliot braced himself against Dean so Sam could pop the joint back.
Peter was gaping in astonishment at the scene unfolding, “Don’t tell me you’re just gonna yank his arm back? What about doctors? More importantly, what about drugs?” Neal took Peter’s arm and moved him back gently, Peter noticed Alec doing the same.
Sam gave his brother an apologetic look as he straightened the arm and gently moved it back and forth until he felt the joint give a little; right now it was time to apply the right pressure. As Sam placed his boot on Dean’s ribs and got ready to pull, he decided to take Dean’s mind off the operation. “After all you’ve seen, Peter, which part of hurt/comfort fan girls did you not get?” As he said that Dean’s head snapped round, looking at him in horror and Sam pulled sharply and rotated Dean’s arm till he felt it slip back into place.
Eliot held on, making Sure Dean stayed still, once he felt the shock of the arm returning to its socket. He let go, Dean curled forward, panting. “Son of a bitch! Sammy, tell me you didn’t say fan girls. Please tell me you didn’t say that.” The voice was muffled, coming as it did from somewhere by his knees.
Sam was kneeling by Dean and was slowly rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder, trying to get him to relax. Finally Dean sat up and looked at him, his face pale, and the freckles standing out starkly on his skin. Peter was shocked at how quiet Dean had been during Sam’s less than gentle ministrations. He gazed round the room, utterly confused and Dean looked up at him, smiled, “So I guess this is your first hoedown, so to speak. Pull up a mattress. I can braid Sam’s hair and we can figure out what we’re gonna do next.”
They all sat down. Sam got as close to Dean as he dared without him growling “Dude, seriously, have you been taking personal space lessons from Cas again?” They all sat looking at one another until finally, Peter began to talk.
“Ok, I believe you. There is some deranged magical force at work here, so what now? What happens next? I mean, what do these girls usually do? Someone help me out here.”
Alec took pity on him, “Well, they usually get bored after a couple of days whumping the shit out of ya. We tend to get mysteriously rescued and spend a shit load of time getting over it. But like Neal said, they beat on him for a couple of hours without too much damage. Look, they like to take their time with us; you can’t have the hurt without comfort. You know someone being wept over and their broken bodies cuddled against manly chests, and besides if you squish ‘em to a pulp too soon, there’s no fun in that.” Alec gave a pained smile.
“Or then again the ‘Hurt Neal’ girl is a newbie and didn’t want to push it too far. I think mine was a little more experienced, didn’t mind a little bit more blood. What about you, Dean. How are you?” Eliot turned to the other injured man.
Dean was holding his left arm against his chest. He gave a lopsided smile, tried to straighten then went a little paler, “I’m fine.” His voice was still a little hoarse.
Sam rolled his eyes, “Excuse Dean, his definition of ‘fine’ is still having all his limbs attached. Broken bones and dislocations don’t count.” Alec sat and nodded in agreement, pointing at Eliot as he did.
Peter wasn’t finished, “But how do they get into this? What motivates them? And does this mean I’m going to be spending the next few days hugging Neal and telling him everything will be alright? As much as I like the guy, I don’t want to go there with the PDA’S.”
Dean and Eliot laughed at that, Neal turned to Peter, “And I love you too, Peter. Don’t worry if things get too bad, I’ll ask Sam to hold my hand again.”
Dean slapped Sam on the leg, “Why Sammy, you sly dog! And I bet you didn’t even buy him dinner first.” Sam coughed and flushed bright red.
He ignored Dean to answer Peter’s question “Bobby thinks it’s a way some of them relieve tension in their lives, either at school, or work, they take out their frustrations on someone else. Anything can contribute to how bad things get.....” Sam went quiet and Dean had stiffened beside him.
Alec nodded wisely, “Me an’ him went through three days with one who had just had a bad appraisal at work. Damn! Eliot was in traction for a week after, and I thought Nate was gonna have a stroke. What’s the worst one you guys have had?”
Sam lifted his head, his eyes fixed on the wall behind Alec and Eliot. As he spoke his voice shook, “Let’s see...the worst, she was a ‘Hurt Dean’ girl, who had just been dumped by her boyfriend... had PMS and her cat had been run over by the boyfriend as he left the house....” The other men watched as Dean shivered, turned his head into his brother’s shoulder. His right hand was fisted in the material of Sam’s shirt in a white-knuckled grip, and he was whimpering softly. Sam absently slipped his arm round Dean and held him until the whimpering stopped.
Peter was terrified. What the hell could reduce a guy like Dean to that? For God’s sake, he hadn’t made a sound when his brother had nearly pulled his arm off, and yet look at him now. Sam seemed to snap out of his horror-induced reverie and looked round the room. He checked Dean had stopped rocking, and he gave the others a shaky smile, “Put it this way. Some of the girls have a very strange idea of hurt/comfort. All I’m saying is I’ll never be able to watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show ever again.”
Peter took his courage in his hands and decided he needed more information. “I have to ask a couple of things. First of all, how come you didn’t try to escape? And how the hell do these women control what’s happening?”
Dean looked at him and gave the smirk he’d seen earlier. “Oh, trust me; escaping is a real bad idea. Put it like this. That fun filled week we had, me and Sam tried it. Shit! It was like the hardcore edition of all the ‘Saw’ movies put together with the scenes that were deleted for being too graphic. As for how the ladies control what happens, I don’t suppose any of you guys heard typing did you? Every damn time it happens I swear I can hear the sound of a keyboard.”
While they had been talking Neal had been plotting their way out of this mess. By the sounds of it an escape attempt could lead to a fate worse than death, then he thought about the whole comfort side of the equation, and an idea formed.
“Gentlemen, I think I may have our way out of here. Look! Attempting to escape will only result in excruciating pain. How about we convince the ladies to let us go?” Sam gaped at Neal, Eliot rolled his eyes and Alec fell over laughing. Dean was the only one interested in what Neal said.
“I’m all ears, dude. Hell, I don’t need to find out how loud I can scream. I already know that. Besides, some of them have a bad habit of being bi-brother hurters and I’m not risking putting Sam through that.”
Sam rolled his eyes “Damn it, Dean! How many more times? I’m not a kid. I can take it.” Sam glared at his older brother who cheerfully ignored him.
“I know you can, Sasquatch, but I’m not sure my back can cope with carrying your heavy ass out of here. So come on, Neal, amaze us all.”
“I’m guessing that these fan girls not only enjoy the physical angst, but also the emotional angst as well. I mean, all the distress of looking after an injured friend or sibling, coupled with not knowing what will happen next has got to be manna from Heaven for them. Am I right?”
Alec nodded, “Oh, Hell yeah! If they can get you to cry or hold the other one’s hand it makes their day.”
Eliot butted in, “Believe me, he bawls like a baby. The last time I could barely hear myself think over the blubbing. How about you two? Same pattern?”
Sam sighed and Dean went bright red and found the floor extremely interesting, “Oh, they just love bringing on that particular man-pain for us; they just love it if we cry. Especially Dean. That seems to cause spontaneous combustion amongst them.”
Peter had to know “Why? What’s the difference between you two crying?”
Dean sighed and gave in, “Well, Sam looks like a snot monster and I....well, I....” Dean went even redder.
“Oh, Dean manages a perfect single tear and he never looks snotty, even when he’s sobbing his damn heart out. It’s just not fair!” Sam pouted as he said that, unaware he was being stared at by the others.
It took Neal a few seconds to recover from that outburst, “Well, that’s it then. We know emotional angst weakens them. Now all we have to do is figure out which is the Alpha fan girl here and there’s the weapon.”
“Alpha fan girl? I gotta admit we’re used to them travelling in packs and tag teaming us, they kind of egg each other on, but I’ve never been in this situation with other guys before. So you think there is a ‘Neal’ girl, ‘Eliot’ girl and ‘Dean’ girl out there?” Dean commented, awestruck
Damn Hurt/Comfort Writers Part 2
GetISP.info
Plain concrete walls greeted him, the cell was surprisingly large. In one corner there appeared to be a crude toilet which made his gut lurch, especially when he looked down and saw the mattresses, blankets and pillows on the floor. Shit, it looked like he could be here for the long haul. Now if he could only figure out where his big brother was.
It was then Sam realized he wasn’t alone in the room; there were two other men with him. Sam also counted how many mattresses there were, six in all, so who were the other two? He knew instinctively that Dean was here somewhere.
Again he fought down the urge to start hammering on the door, screaming for his brother. He thought he should see who the other guests were. Sam cautiously approached the men, one was a white man in his forties, wearing a suit that just screamed Fed and the other was a young, black man. Sam looked closely at the black man; there was something familiar about him but he just couldn’t place him at the moment.
The first to come round was the white man; he tried to sit up quickly but whatever drug had been used to knock them out was still having an effect and he slumped back down.
“Oh, dear God! I don’t remember drinking that much. Neal, if you roofied my drink again you are going straight back to jail.” The man groaned and he looked up at Sam hovering over him, it took a few seconds for him to focus. “You’re not Neal. Hell, where’s he gone now. Damn! This always happens. Hi, I’m Agent Peter Burke of the F.B.I White Collar Unit and you are?” Peter had by now managed to sit up and was concentrating on Sam.
Before Sam could respond there was another groan. Both men looked at their companion with concern, the man’s eyes opened, looked up at the ceiling then slammed shut. He put his hands on his eyes and rubbed at them vigorously, “Damnit Eliot, if this is your idea of a good time then I ain’t enjoying it. Shit! Wasn’t the damn fishing trip enough?” When he didn’t get an answer he opened his eyes and suddenly saw the looming figure of Sam.
He let out a squeak of terror, sat up and scooted along the wall, “Now look, man, I ain’t done nothing wrong. Well, nothing that you can prove. Now, why don’t you let me go before my friends come looking for me and it will be cool....? By the way, dude, have we met before? You look real familiar.”
Sam smiled at the nervous man and decided to introduce himself, “Hi, my name is Sam Winchester and this is Agent Peter Burke and I don’t know where the hell we are, and I didn’t catch your name.”
“Oh hi, I’m Alec Hardison and I don’t suppose you’ve seen a short guy with long hair and a real bad attitude, have you? Only we were on a job and we kinda need to get back to it.” Sam noticed that Alec kept putting his hand to his ear and waggling it. An unpleasant idea began to form and Sam swallowed hard.
“Oh God, no, not again. Look, are you missing a communication device? My phone is gone and so are my weapons. Can you please check yourselves?” Sam watched as Peter and Alec frantically patted themselves down.
Alec was cursing softly when he discovered all means of communication were gone as were Peter’s, along with his gun and his back-up piece. Sam sighed and he sat down on one of the mattresses, it was time to confirm his worst suspicions.
“So Alec, you and this Eliot were working a job? Peter, you and Neal too? By any chance could your line of work be deemed heroic?” Sam watched two faces, Peter remained perplexed but Alec was beginning to turn green.
“Ah damn, not again. Nate will kill me, the last time this happened it took weeks to put Eliot back together.” Alec let his head fall back and whimpered.
Peter was looking from one man to another, “What the hell are you two on about? My partner and I were on the verge of bringing down a multinational art fraud ring, the leader of which had just kidnapped my dear wife. Oh God, Elizabeth!” Peter leapt to his feet; Sam stood up wearily and stopped him from bashing his brains out against the door.
“Hey, Peter. If I promise to explain will you stop trying to kill yourself, and don’t worry about Elizabeth, she’ll be fine.”
Peter’s eyes narrowed, “What! Are you two in on this? Just tell me where she is. I’ll do anything!”
Sam patted the distraught man on the arm and sat him back down, “Well, Alec, where were you and Eliot when this happened?” Sam made himself comfortable. He knew they could be in for a long wait and he was looking forward to seeing how Peter would react to the news.
“Well, my team was just about to finish a con against an arms dealer who sidelines in human trafficking. When Eliot and me went bye-byes and dude, are you sure about this? Because some of those girls are downright nasty.” Alec looked pleadingly at Sam,
Sam just shook his head and sighed, “Nope, I think you got it. Dean and me were just about to take out a nest of vampires when it all went dark. Judging by the fact Dean is missing, I’d say there’s at least a bunch of ‘Dean’ girls out there. Crap! I just hope Bobby’s cleaned out the panic room. “
Peter looked at them as if they were insane, “What the hell are you two on about? My wife’s in danger, my partner’s missing and you two are talking ‘Dean’ girls and vampires, and by the way, grifting is a felony.” With that, he went quiet.
Sam looked at Alec, “Do you want to tell him or shall I?” Alec licked his lips and started to talk.
“Listen, Peter. Don’t ask me how to explain this, but out there is a world with something called fan girls and some of them write what we call Fan Fiction. The worst ones are the hurt/comfort writers. In those Fics, someone gets the shit beat out of them, and somebody else does the comforting. Now every so often me and Eliot find ourselves in situations like this, and believe me, it can get real nasty.” Alec went quiet so Sam took up the story.
“Our friend, Bobby calls it the fourth wall; somewhere out there is an alternative universe and sometimes the wall is thin enough for these girls to directly affect our lives. I mean, normally we would never meet. I guess Alec and I would stay the hell away from the F.B.I, no offense. It looks like a group of them have gotten together and are working with one another. I take it this your first time. It happens to me and Dean quite a lot in our line of work, we take it as part of the job. I just hope to God that we’ve been taken by either Alec’s arms dealer, or your international art fraudster, or better yet, a bunch of starving vamps. The alternative is just way too horrific to contemplate”
Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. Wonderful! He was locked up with two lunatics. That was all he needed, “So why aren’t you worried about your friends? I’m worried about Neal.”
“For a start, it’s my brother and yes, I’m damn worried about him. You have no idea what these fan girls can be capable of. I’ve been on the receiving end of some of these little parties. I wouldn’t even wish it on my worst enemy...ok, maybe Ruby, but that’s not the point. Look, just trust us and wait for them to bring the others back. ” Sam glared at Peter and saw Alec shake his head in wry amusement.
They sat in silence after that. Sam was fidgeting. It was taking too long, and finally he got up and began to rearrange the room. “What are you doing?” Peter asked.
Sam dragged two of the mattresses side by side. He saw Alec get with the programme and he did the same, “Look, Peter. Whether you believe me or not, you will want to be near your friend, Neal when he gets back, so it might be better to do this now rather than with him lying on it.”
Peter watched the other two men make up rudimentary beds. He was worried, they seemed too calm. Actually, ‘calm’ was the wrong word; more like resigned to what was happening. He stood up, took off his suit jacket and got to work, so his part of the cell mirrored the other two. The beds side by side, not too close but close enough for someone to sit in vigil over the ‘victim’. He was aware Sam and Alec were talking.
“So, what are you, man? Some kind of cop in a weird-ass police division I ain’t ever heard of?” Alec looked at Sam curiously. Sam shook his head at Alec.
“No, Dean and me are what are known as hunters. Short version - if it goes bump in the night we kill it. Or, according to Dean - if it’s female and hot, I’ll fall in love with it, have to kill it and spend the next six months angsting over it. So what are you guys, con men or what?”
Alec was grinning at him, “Oh, we’re con men alright but we right wrongs so to speak; you got a problem the law can’t solve and you come to us. That arms dealer was just going to find out if orange suited him.”
Sam nodded, “Sort of modern-day Robin hoods then. By the way, this Eliot... is he prone to being overprotective with added self-sacrificing tendencies?”
Alec laughed, “Oh, hell yeah, he’s our hitter. Look, I’m the group’s hacker, Parker’s our thief, Sophie is the grifter and Nate, well, he’s the brains. Your brother a bit overprotective, then?”
Sam just rolled his eyes, “Oh, don’t get me started, and I’ve had to patch him up more times than I want to remember. A lot of them were because he got between me and the damn fugly that was trying to kill me.” Both men looked at Peter.
“If you’re going to ask is Neal the derring-do type, then I’ll have to disappoint you. He uses his brains more than brawn. Although, he does have his moments of stupidity like Eliot and Dean, and I can’t even believe I’m discussing this.”
Sam considered this and looked at Peter, “Quietly heroic, prone to being sensitive and vulnerable under a veneer of supreme confidence. No doubt - a hit with the ladies. Perhaps single minded and even though he’s a criminal, fairly noble with a strict code. Am I close?”
Peter whistled, “Are you sure you’ve never met Neal? Anyway, say I believe your story, what do we do now? Just sit and wait, or what?” Peter could feel his frustration with the situation rising.
Alec stretched and yawned, “I hate to say it but yeah, that’s it, man. We need to ask whoever comes back first some questions. Then we’ll know what we’re up against. What time do you think they’ll feed us? After all, they’ll want us to keep our strength up. You can’t angst and mop fevered brows on an empty stomach.”
Just then the door flew open and the three men leapt to their feet. Two huge men stepped just inside with their hands resting on tazers on their belts. First of all, food and drink was brought in and placed by the door, then came a pile of medical supplies. These were delivered by women; they wore dark clothes and ski masks to hide their identity, the Henchmen’s faces were exposed in all their brutish glory.
Finally two more Henchmen came in, dragging a limp figure between them. The men dropped the figure on the floor and then a jacket and tie were thrown in and the door slammed shut. Peter gave a strangled cry of “Neal?” Then Sam leapt into action.
He knelt down and felt for a pulse. It was nice and strong and he heard a faint moaning. Even better, he was coming round, “Peter, help me get him on the bed. See, I told you it wasn’t a waste of time.”
As Peter helped Sam move Neal he looked at him and spoke, “Fan girls! Did you see the size of those gorillas! I’m telling you this is to do with Elizabeth. Neal, come on. I need to talk to you. Wake up.”
Neal’s blue eyes fluttered open and he squinted up at Peter, “Damn! It wasn’t a nightmare then. I really did just spend the last couple of hours being beaten.” Peter looked down at Neal in concern, his normally immaculate appearance was now a distant memory, and his shirt was torn and dirty. Neal was sporting some very fetching bruises. Neal noticed that he and Peter were not the only occupants of the room.
“Peter, who are our new friends? And why is the really large one holding my hand and looking at me as if I’m about to die?” Sam looked down at his hand realizing that he was indeed holding Neal’s hand. He let go suddenly but just before he could introduce himself the door slammed open again.
Sam stood up, along with Peter and Alec; once again the thugs appeared. Peter muttered, “Am I detecting a theme here?” As he said that another dishevelled figure was dragged in the room and dumped unceremoniously on the floor in a heap.
“Damnit, Eliot! What the hell has happened to you this time?” Alec knelt by his friend. By comparison Neal looked positively untouched. Eliot’s shirt was in tatters and the bruising to his face and body was more pronounced. Alec tried to lift the unconscious hitter, but after a couple of attempts he looked at Sam. “Don’t just stand there. Help me! This dude’s heavy, it’s all the damn muscle he’s got, along with his attitude, they weigh a ton.” Sam helped Alec move Eliot, and settled him on the bed. Sam was just about to talk to Neal when he heard...
“Hardison, if you don’t take your damn hand off my forehead you’ll lose fingers. Move it.” The hand that had been resting on his forehead was speedily removed.
“Ah, now don’t be like that, Eliot, I was just being comforting. You lie there and take it easy for a second. I think you may need to.” As soon as Alec finished, Eliot sat bolt upright and fixed Sam with the most aggressive pair of blue eyes Sam had ever seen. The only time he’d ever seen a look like that before was on Dean when he was being threatened. Sam stepped back and tried to look non-threatening, which, when you’re six foot four and built like a brick outhouse and hunt demons for a living, is impossible.
Alec put his hand on Eliot’s arm, flinching at the tension he felt there, “Now, play nicely, Eliot. Look, these guys are in the same boat as us. That guy you’re frying with the glare of death is Sam, the nervous-looking fed is Peter and the guy on the floor looking like you is Neal. Hey dude, have you seen another guy while you were having your workout?”
Eliot relaxed slightly. Alec’s little intro had downgraded the three men from target to possible targets. He looked at Alec and frowned, “Shit, there is another one of us? Ah crap, that must have been the poor bastard next door to me.”
On hearing those words Sam folded down onto his bed, put his head into his hands and moaned. “I knew it; I damn well knew it. We’ve been taken by a bunch of hurt/comfort writers. Ahhh, shit!”
Eliot looked startled, “What again? Shit! How come I’m the one getting the crap beaten out of him? I thought at the very least it was your turn, Hardison.” Eliot’s head fell forward and he sighed.
Peter had sat down by Neal, Neal looked at him puzzled, “Well, Neal, we seem to have fallen through the looking glass. According to these gentlemen we have been kidnapped by a group of crazed fan girls who write stories about us and.....” Before Peter could continue.
“Oh shit! So that’s what that typing was when I was being beaten and I wondered why nothing got broken. Peter, you can’t beat somebody for that long without serious damage and all I’ve got is a few bruises and slightly-torn shirt.”
Peter sat staring opened mouthed at the con man, “I’ve spent most of my life stealing antiquities, you get to hear things on your travels and I’ve heard of this before. And I’m sure I heard a woman’s voice say something about me being pretty when I got dirtied up. So then, who are we waiting for?”
Sam looked up mournfully, “My brother, Dean. God, I hope he’s alright. By the looks of you two, I dread to think what Dean’s gonna look like.” Just then the door opened and once more Henchman one and two appeared. This time when the body was dragged in, the gorilla holding it stood waiting. Sam stood up cautiously and suddenly found his brother’s battered form being thrust into his arms.
The door closed and Sam staggered under Dean’s dead weight. He realized that Eliot was beside him and between them they got Dean onto the bed. He lay unmoving, Sam by his side, Eliot and Alec stood on one side of the bed and Peter and Neal the other.
Sam was doing a quick inventory, “Ok, cuts and bruises. Oh, look, a black eye! They just love those on Dean; they think it brings out the colour of his eyes. Oh yes; another old favourite as well; a dislocated left shoulder. Ah well, the classics are always the best.” Sam was just about to put Dean’s shoulder back in place before he came to, when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.
“Sammy, are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” The voice was low and rasping as if the man had been screaming, the aforementioned eyes flew open and darted round his surroundings. He glared at the men standing over him.
“I have to say they’re right. It really does make his eyes a striking shade of green, that and the pale-green shirt he’s wearing.” Neal commented and he became aware of five pairs of eyes looking at him, “What I’m just saying is - his clothes are in better shape than mine and Eliot’s.”
Sam frowned at Neal and looked back at his brother; he was sure Dean had been wearing a plaid shirt earlier today, but there was no way on earth he was asking Dean about that. He couldn’t stand the ridicule. Dean struggled to sit up “And where the hell do you think you’re going?” Sam’s tone was exasperated as his brother moved.
Dean tilted his head back and smirked “Well, I was going to ask the nice girls outside to put my shoulder back as you guys seem a little preoccupied with my fashion choices. So, if it’s alright with you, Tyra, I’d like to be able to feel my fingers again.”
Eliot snorted with laughter. Hell, he could get on with this guy! The noise made Dean turn his head to look at him. Dean took in his appearance and gave him a wink then he looked at Alec “Dude, have we met before? I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” Alec shook his head and Dean gave a one-shouldered shrug, hissing as it jostled the injured shoulder.
“Ok Francis, whenever you’re ready and then you can fill me in on what’s happening, ‘cause dude, I ain’t happy. We just lost a nest of Edward wannabes.” Dean slowly moved his left hand out to Sam.
Sam took a careful hold, figuring out the best way to do this. Eliot crouched down by Dean, tapped him on his shoulder. Dean looked at him gratefully and he wrapped his right arm round Eliot, as Eliot braced himself against Dean so Sam could pop the joint back.
Peter was gaping in astonishment at the scene unfolding, “Don’t tell me you’re just gonna yank his arm back? What about doctors? More importantly, what about drugs?” Neal took Peter’s arm and moved him back gently, Peter noticed Alec doing the same.
Sam gave his brother an apologetic look as he straightened the arm and gently moved it back and forth until he felt the joint give a little; right now it was time to apply the right pressure. As Sam placed his boot on Dean’s ribs and got ready to pull, he decided to take Dean’s mind off the operation. “After all you’ve seen, Peter, which part of hurt/comfort fan girls did you not get?” As he said that Dean’s head snapped round, looking at him in horror and Sam pulled sharply and rotated Dean’s arm till he felt it slip back into place.
Eliot held on, making Sure Dean stayed still, once he felt the shock of the arm returning to its socket. He let go, Dean curled forward, panting. “Son of a bitch! Sammy, tell me you didn’t say fan girls. Please tell me you didn’t say that.” The voice was muffled, coming as it did from somewhere by his knees.
Sam was kneeling by Dean and was slowly rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder, trying to get him to relax. Finally Dean sat up and looked at him, his face pale, and the freckles standing out starkly on his skin. Peter was shocked at how quiet Dean had been during Sam’s less than gentle ministrations. He gazed round the room, utterly confused and Dean looked up at him, smiled, “So I guess this is your first hoedown, so to speak. Pull up a mattress. I can braid Sam’s hair and we can figure out what we’re gonna do next.”
They all sat down. Sam got as close to Dean as he dared without him growling “Dude, seriously, have you been taking personal space lessons from Cas again?” They all sat looking at one another until finally, Peter began to talk.
“Ok, I believe you. There is some deranged magical force at work here, so what now? What happens next? I mean, what do these girls usually do? Someone help me out here.”
Alec took pity on him, “Well, they usually get bored after a couple of days whumping the shit out of ya. We tend to get mysteriously rescued and spend a shit load of time getting over it. But like Neal said, they beat on him for a couple of hours without too much damage. Look, they like to take their time with us; you can’t have the hurt without comfort. You know someone being wept over and their broken bodies cuddled against manly chests, and besides if you squish ‘em to a pulp too soon, there’s no fun in that.” Alec gave a pained smile.
“Or then again the ‘Hurt Neal’ girl is a newbie and didn’t want to push it too far. I think mine was a little more experienced, didn’t mind a little bit more blood. What about you, Dean. How are you?” Eliot turned to the other injured man.
Dean was holding his left arm against his chest. He gave a lopsided smile, tried to straighten then went a little paler, “I’m fine.” His voice was still a little hoarse.
Sam rolled his eyes, “Excuse Dean, his definition of ‘fine’ is still having all his limbs attached. Broken bones and dislocations don’t count.” Alec sat and nodded in agreement, pointing at Eliot as he did.
Peter wasn’t finished, “But how do they get into this? What motivates them? And does this mean I’m going to be spending the next few days hugging Neal and telling him everything will be alright? As much as I like the guy, I don’t want to go there with the PDA’S.”
Dean and Eliot laughed at that, Neal turned to Peter, “And I love you too, Peter. Don’t worry if things get too bad, I’ll ask Sam to hold my hand again.”
Dean slapped Sam on the leg, “Why Sammy, you sly dog! And I bet you didn’t even buy him dinner first.” Sam coughed and flushed bright red.
He ignored Dean to answer Peter’s question “Bobby thinks it’s a way some of them relieve tension in their lives, either at school, or work, they take out their frustrations on someone else. Anything can contribute to how bad things get.....” Sam went quiet and Dean had stiffened beside him.
Alec nodded wisely, “Me an’ him went through three days with one who had just had a bad appraisal at work. Damn! Eliot was in traction for a week after, and I thought Nate was gonna have a stroke. What’s the worst one you guys have had?”
Sam lifted his head, his eyes fixed on the wall behind Alec and Eliot. As he spoke his voice shook, “Let’s see...the worst, she was a ‘Hurt Dean’ girl, who had just been dumped by her boyfriend... had PMS and her cat had been run over by the boyfriend as he left the house....” The other men watched as Dean shivered, turned his head into his brother’s shoulder. His right hand was fisted in the material of Sam’s shirt in a white-knuckled grip, and he was whimpering softly. Sam absently slipped his arm round Dean and held him until the whimpering stopped.
Peter was terrified. What the hell could reduce a guy like Dean to that? For God’s sake, he hadn’t made a sound when his brother had nearly pulled his arm off, and yet look at him now. Sam seemed to snap out of his horror-induced reverie and looked round the room. He checked Dean had stopped rocking, and he gave the others a shaky smile, “Put it this way. Some of the girls have a very strange idea of hurt/comfort. All I’m saying is I’ll never be able to watch the Rocky Horror Picture Show ever again.”
Peter took his courage in his hands and decided he needed more information. “I have to ask a couple of things. First of all, how come you didn’t try to escape? And how the hell do these women control what’s happening?”
Dean looked at him and gave the smirk he’d seen earlier. “Oh, trust me; escaping is a real bad idea. Put it like this. That fun filled week we had, me and Sam tried it. Shit! It was like the hardcore edition of all the ‘Saw’ movies put together with the scenes that were deleted for being too graphic. As for how the ladies control what happens, I don’t suppose any of you guys heard typing did you? Every damn time it happens I swear I can hear the sound of a keyboard.”
While they had been talking Neal had been plotting their way out of this mess. By the sounds of it an escape attempt could lead to a fate worse than death, then he thought about the whole comfort side of the equation, and an idea formed.
“Gentlemen, I think I may have our way out of here. Look! Attempting to escape will only result in excruciating pain. How about we convince the ladies to let us go?” Sam gaped at Neal, Eliot rolled his eyes and Alec fell over laughing. Dean was the only one interested in what Neal said.
“I’m all ears, dude. Hell, I don’t need to find out how loud I can scream. I already know that. Besides, some of them have a bad habit of being bi-brother hurters and I’m not risking putting Sam through that.”
Sam rolled his eyes “Damn it, Dean! How many more times? I’m not a kid. I can take it.” Sam glared at his older brother who cheerfully ignored him.
“I know you can, Sasquatch, but I’m not sure my back can cope with carrying your heavy ass out of here. So come on, Neal, amaze us all.”
“I’m guessing that these fan girls not only enjoy the physical angst, but also the emotional angst as well. I mean, all the distress of looking after an injured friend or sibling, coupled with not knowing what will happen next has got to be manna from Heaven for them. Am I right?”
Alec nodded, “Oh, Hell yeah! If they can get you to cry or hold the other one’s hand it makes their day.”
Eliot butted in, “Believe me, he bawls like a baby. The last time I could barely hear myself think over the blubbing. How about you two? Same pattern?”
Sam sighed and Dean went bright red and found the floor extremely interesting, “Oh, they just love bringing on that particular man-pain for us; they just love it if we cry. Especially Dean. That seems to cause spontaneous combustion amongst them.”
Peter had to know “Why? What’s the difference between you two crying?”
Dean sighed and gave in, “Well, Sam looks like a snot monster and I....well, I....” Dean went even redder.
“Oh, Dean manages a perfect single tear and he never looks snotty, even when he’s sobbing his damn heart out. It’s just not fair!” Sam pouted as he said that, unaware he was being stared at by the others.
It took Neal a few seconds to recover from that outburst, “Well, that’s it then. We know emotional angst weakens them. Now all we have to do is figure out which is the Alpha fan girl here and there’s the weapon.”
“Alpha fan girl? I gotta admit we’re used to them travelling in packs and tag teaming us, they kind of egg each other on, but I’ve never been in this situation with other guys before. So you think there is a ‘Neal’ girl, ‘Eliot’ girl and ‘Dean’ girl out there?” Dean commented, awestruck
Damn Hurt/Comfort Writers Part 2
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