Author's Note: This a co-write by me and the awesome SuperWhoLockedGirl53. Be sure to check her out.
Sam is 17 and Dean is 21.
"Where is it?" Dean asked as he walked into the living room where Sam was sat on the couch reading an assigned book from school.
"Where's what?" Sam replied.
"You know what! Give it back."
Sam furrowed an eyebrow. "I don't know what you're talking about Dean."
"My ring. Mom's ring, what have you done with it?"
"I haven't done anything with it. You've clearly just lost it." Sam stated.
"I don't lose things, Sam."
"Dude, you lose things all the time."
"Well I haven't got it." Sam answered, still not looking up from the book he was reading.
Getting angry, Dean roughly grabbed Sam by the arm and yanked his up from the couch to his feet.
"Hey!" Sam shouted.
"I don't believe you!"
"Why?" Sam put his book down on the couch.
"Because it's obviously you!"
"How is it obviously me?"
"Because you're the only one who would take it." Dean answered. "Now give me the ring!"
"I don't have it!" Sam emphasised each word.
Grabbing Sam by the collar, he pushed him back against the wall.
"Ahh, Dean!" Sam scowled as the wall collided with his back.
"That ring is the only thing I have left of her! Do you really think I would just lose it?" Dean stated.
"For fuck sake, Dean, I don't have your stupid ring." Sam regretted his choice of word as soon as they came out of his mouth. The ring wasn't stupid. Like Dean said, it was their Mother's wedding ring, and therefore something that had to be treasured. Of course it was being treasured by Dean who wore it everyday. Well...until he'd lost it.
Growling in anger, Dean lashed out, slamming a punch across his brother's face.
Sam fell backwards due to the force of the blow, landing on the carpet. He put a hand to his bleeding lip before looking up at his brother who's expression had already seemed to have softened as some of his anger faded. "I lost Mom too..." Sam stated in a weak, tearful tone. "You're not the only one who lost her, Dean!" He shouted. "And at least you have something to remember her by!" Getting to his feet, Sam rushed off into the bedroom.
It was then that the door opened.
John walked in.
"Dad!" Dean's eyes widened.
"Where's your brother, we need to go." He stated. "Sam!" John shouted. "Sam!"
The door to the bedroom opened a few seconds later to reveal Sam standing in the doorway.
John furrowed an eyebrow as he noticed the bruise that was appearing around Sam's eye and on his cheek. "What the hell did you do this time?" He asked with disappointment in his voice.
Sam sighed before answering, hating the way that he just couldn't seem to do anything right. "Walked into a door."
Dean looked to his brother as he realised that he was covering for him, making him feel guiltier already.
"You got that from walking into a door?" John raised an eyebrow.
"It was a hard door." Sam answered in a sarcastic tone.
"Hey! Don't use that tone with me, Sam." John scorned.
Sam didn't reply.
John shook his head and looked back at Dean. "So, I've got a hunt for you boys."
"Me and Sam?" Dean asked. "What about you?"
"I've got some more research to do on a case in town, you boys should be able to handle it." John stated.
"Okay." Dean nodded.
John dropped them off at the entrance to the forest.
That had been 20 minutes ago, and the boys were now approaching the site where the cave of the monster was supposed to be.
On their trek through the woods, neither Winchester sibling had said a word to the other. They had both just walked on in silence.
Sam was keeping his distance slightly by maintaining a gap between him and his brother as he walked beside him.
Dean had noticed this but hadn't brought it up, knowing that he would probably only get a quiet grunt in response to his question. The fact that his little brother currently seemed to be scared of him made Dean hate himself even more. Looking up at his brother's face, the bruise was now well and truly developed. The skin around his eye and cheek were dark blackish and blue in colour and it looked painful. He hadn't exactly thrown a soft punch.
The boys immediately grabbed their guns at the sound of the tree branch snapping.
Everything was silent for a few seconds, before a voice spoke up.
"You shouldn't have come here, boys..."
They turned in an instant to face the...
The boys' eyes widened as they realised the error.
Before they had a chance to react however, the man had crossed the distance between him them and stole Sam's gun. He then proceeded to crack Sam across the head with it, knocking him unconscious before doing the same with Dean.
"Eughhhhh..." Dean moaned as he came to. Flickering his eyes open, they immediately widened at the sight of his surroundings. He was caged. "Sammy?" Dean called as he sat upright and looked around. His eyes finally rested on his little brother in the cage next to him, still lying on the floor of it unconscious. "Sammy..." He reduced the volume of his tone, it becoming softer as he shuffled across the cage and reached through the bars to his brother's cage. "Sammy..." He shook his brother's arm until he began to respond.
"Yeah, Sammy, it's me." Dean answered.
"Guh..." Sam moaned as he pushed his upright. "What happened?"
Dean retracted his arm from his brother's cage. "Some guy jumped us."
"So the monster that we were supposed to be hunting?..."
"Yeah, it's him."
"It would have been helpful if Dad had given us the right information." Sam stated dryly.
"People make mistakes, don't get all mad at Dad."
Sam rolled his eyes.
"What?" Dean asked.
"Nothing. Forget it."
"I see you two are awake." Came a voice.
The brothers turned to see the guy who jumped them walking in.
"What do you want from us?" Dean asked.
"I don't want anything, I just don't like hunters poking their noses into my territory." He answered.
"Well maybe you should stop killing people."
"I only kill those who trespass in my forest. It's there fault for coming in the first place."
"What are you gonna' do to us?" Sam spoke up.
"Oh, I have many things planned for you both." He paused. "You see, you're John Winchester's boys. Sam and Dean. John Winchester of course being the guy who killed my wife and child. They'd got turned you see. Some bloodthirsty vampire broke into the house one night when I was at work at the hospital and fed them it's blood. As a man of medicine, I spent the next 3 months developing a cure for the venom, and I was successful. I had found a cure. When I came home that night however, there they were, lying there...dead..." He paused once again. "...my little girl..." His voice cracked slightly with emotion before he cleared his throat. "So, after their deaths, I got a little obsessed in the matter of finding the son of a bitch that killed my family. And it turned out to be your Daddy. And then look what happened, you two just walked right up and basically served yourselves to me on a platter." The man paused once again. "John Winchester killed my entire family, so I'm gonna' kill his boys. Slowly and painfully until you're begging for your Daddy to come and save you, at which point I'll kill him too. Obviously in the same manner as he did my family, it only seems fitting." Reaching into his pocket, the man pulled out a needle filled with a clear liquid before he began to walk towards Sam's cage. "So, here's my first little party trick."
As the man approached the cage, Sam's eyes widened as he caught sight of it. "No...no, please!..." He backed away from the man and the sedative, but was obviously restricted by the size of the cage and soon found himself pressed up against the cool, metallic bars of the back wall of the cage.
"Relax, this will only sting momentarily, and should have many horrible side effects for you to ride out." He grinned.
"You get away from my brother!" Dean stated sternly.
The man simply ignored him.
Dean took a deep breath. "Do it to me."
The man paused and furrowed an eyebrow before turning to Dean. "What?"
"Use that thing on me, not him." Dean practically begged, hoping to relieve his little brother of the injections painful side effects. "Please...I won't even fight you...just...please..."
"Has that worked on every other person or thing that's captured you?" The man smirked before grabbing a handful of Sam's hair in a tight grip and yanking his head back causing Sam to wince. He then stabbed the syringe into the skin of Sam's neck causing the youngest Winchester to screw his eyes together as the plunger was pressed down mercilessly.
"Gah!" Sam moaned. "What..." He paused. "...what was that?"
"Relax, it's just a sedative..." The man paused. "...a dangerously strong dose of sedative coupled with a buttload of other drugs and nasty things that you really wouldn't want surging through your bloodstream, but a sedative nonetheless."
"Guh!" Sam moaned once again before he began to scream out in pain.
"Sam! Sammy!" Dean's heart wrenched as he listened to the sound of his little brother's cries of agony, helpless to any form of comfort.
Sam's screams went on for a further ten minutes before he eventually passed out as the pain became too much and the sedative kicked in.
Dean turned from his brother, panic still written all over his face before his expression hardened as he looked at the man. He growled in anger. "I'm gonna' kill you!"
"That would be a neat trick. My kid-nape survival rate is 0%, so try what you like, it's only just gonna' make it easier for me if you tire yourself out. Makes the next step all the more fun. Less squirming, more precision." The man smiled creepishly at Dean, producing a scalpel from his pocket. "If you know what I mean."
"It's been said." The man shrugged, putting away the scalpel and instead grabbing a set of keys. "Time to go."
"Go? Go where?!"
"The other room." He paused. "You didn't think I was gonna' do that to you in here did you?" The man shook his head as he scoffed. "I just cleaned the floor." Unlocking the cage that Sam was in, the man opened the door before pushing Sam so that he was slumped against the wall of the cage, face limply smushed against the bars. The man then proceeded to tie Sam's hands behind his back with thick rope before dragging the youngest Winchester from his cage.
"Sammy!" Dean shouted.
"Are you gonna' shut up?!" He asked sternly.
Dean's expressions said it all as he looked at the man with venomous hatred.
"No?..." He paused. "Fine then." Pulling a hanky from his pocket, the man grabbed Dean through the bars in an impossibly tight grip. Placing one hand over Dean's mouth to stop his breathing, the man then held the hanky over his nose with the other.
Dean tried to fight his hold, but it was no use. He had to breathe meaning that his body breathed in the chloroform. As it began to take effect, Dean found himself falling into a deep darkness before everything went black.
A slap across the face pulled Dean from unconsciousness as he once again began to become aware of his surroundings.
Dean looked up to the see the guy standing over him.
"Hurry up and get with it would you, I've got things to do." He then walked off.
Dean furrowed an eyebrow as he tried to move his hand but found that it was shackled to the wall.
And then he heard a groan.
"And the younger awakens from his slumber." The man's voice gleefully spoke.
As everything came into focus, Dean spotted his little brother lying on an old operating table with straps holding him to it.
The man had now taken his scalpel out once again.
"No!" Dean shouted. "No, no, please!"
"Shut it!" The man bellowed.
Sam appeared to be struggling to grasp what was happening as the drugs messed with his head.
Dean noticed that the man had taken off Sam's plaid shirt and dumped it on the floor, Sam's white shirt however had been ripped so that his chest was bare.
"The more you squirm, the worse it'll be." The man stated before he began to trace the blade down Sam's chest, leaving a trail of blood.
"Guh!..." Sam moaned.
"Leave him alone you son of a bitch!" Dean shouted.
The man ignored him and continued to carve into Sam until his chest and stomach were too bloody to find skin. At this point, the man undid the straps on Sam and grabbed him tightly by the arm. Yanking him from the table, the man then released his grip on Sam so that he fell the distance from the table to the stone floor and landed in a heap, painfully.
"Gah!" Sam cried as the impact jarred the wounds which covered his torso, causing black spots to dance in his vision.
"I'll be back later boys." The man stated before throwing Dean the key to the shackle and walking up the stairs. The sound of two doors slamming and locking could be heard before silence filled the room.
Dean quickly unlocked the shackle with the key before rushing over to his little brother and gathering him up in his arms. "Sammy!...Sammy!..."
Sam moaned as he opened his eyes. "De..."
Closer now, Dean could see just how much damage the guy had done to his little brother's stomach with the scalpel. Taking off his plaid shirt, he bundled it up and used it to and staunch some of the bleeding.
"De...hurts..." Sam mumbled.
"I know, Sammy..." Dean winced in sympathy as he saw his little brother's pained expression. "I know..."
The man continued his torture every day.
As each new day came, the man would chose the alternate Winchester to the previous day. Chaining one up while the other was being tortured.
Not that they really needed to be chained anymore. The brother's were clearly weaker from blood loss and hunger.
As the man dragged Dean off the table, he completing his usual routine of throwing the key into the room before leaving and locking them in.
Sam wasn't conscious to see his brother being tortured. He had passed out just after Dean had been dragged onto the table, so was slumped up against the wall, only held upright by the shackle that was suspending his arm in the air.
Noticing this, Dean wrapped an arm around his stomach and crawled across the floor to retrieve the key, screwing his eyes together to fight the pain as he did so. He then made the painful journey over to his little brother and unlocked the shackle around his wrist.
Sam collapsed into his brother's arm, the falling having brought him back to consciousness slightly. "De..." He called in a weak tone that was almost a whisper before looking at his brother's chest. "You're hurt...you need..." Sam went to shrug out of his bloody plaid shirt but Dean put a hand gently on his shoulder.
"I'm fine, Sam..." Dean reassured.
"No you're not..."
"I'm better than you right now." He placed two hands on Sam's cheeks. "Now lets see those eyes." Dean had been worried for days about the amount of drugs that the man had given his brother prior to them being thrown into the basement. His little brother had never really recovered from them, which he should have by now.
Sam looked up and into his brother's eyes so Dean could see his.
"You're pupils are still a bit dilated."
Once his brother had checked his eyes, Sam slumped down against the wall, resting his head against it. "How long have we been down here?" He asked.
"I don't know, Sammy." Dean sighed before he turned to the plate just across from them and used his foot to nudge it over.
The guy had left them a plastic plate and spoon with a tiny portion of cold porridge.
"Here." Dean brought the spoonful of porridge towards his brother's mouth.
"I don't need fed, De..." Sam's weak tone replied, barely managing to keep his eyes open as he did.
"You need food, Sam." Dean replied.
Sam reluctantly opened his mouth and allowed Dean to feed him the spoonful of cold porridge. The taste was unpleasant, but over the time they had been down in the basement, he had come to see any form of food as a luxury.
Dean then went for another spoonful.
"Dean...no..." Sam shook his head weakly.
"Sam..." Dean began.
"You need to eat too."
"You need it more."
"Sam, you're in worse shape than I am. You need to eat."
"Not until you have." Sam held his ground.
Dean sighed before reluctantly eating two spoonfuls of the porridge. "There...happy?"
"Ecstatic." Sam answered before a smile crept on his lips a few seconds later.
Seeing the smile brought one to Dean's face too. "Bitch..."
It had been Sammy's turn on the table, and the guy had decided to try out some new techniques on his test subject.
This time though, the man didn't throw the key into the cell before he left, leaving Dean with a shackled hand and a broken brother.
"Sammy!" Dean shuffled across the floor as far as he could reach with his arm still shackled to the wall. Luckily however, the chain must have been quite long because he was able to reach his little brother, but only just.
Sam was lying slumped on the floor.
Dean sighed sadly as he took in the sight of his little brother. His torso was covered in blood from being under the man's scalpel, his cheeks had the remains of tear tracks on them from where the pain must have gotten too much on the operating table, and his eye and cheek were still bruised from where he had punched him god knows how long ago now.
Reaching a hand out to his brother, Dean began to gently stroke his brother's hair to offer Sam any reassurance that he could.
Sam stirred at the touch. "De..."
Dean smiled at the nickname. "I'm right here, Sammy."
This seemed to calm Sam down as he relaxed further, moving slightly closer towards his brother's touch. He only managed a few cm's before finding the pain was just too much to move.
"Don't try and move, Sam."
There was silence for a few minutes as Dean continued to stroke his little brother's hair before Sam spoke up.
"We're gonna' die down here...aren't we?" Came his weak voice.
And that's when Dean's heart broke as he heard his little brother sounding so defeated. He didn't know the answer to the question himself. "No." He answered. "Dad and Bobby will be looking for us."
Silence rained out for a further few minutes as Dean felt his little brother's strength diminishing as he seemed to grow weaker by the second.
And then he had a plan.
"I remember not long after you were born. Dad took me to the hospital to see you and he took me down to the ward where they were looking after all of the newborn babies. Mom was already there, sat in a chair beside your little plastic crib. The little card on the side of the crib said 'Samuel Winchester - born at 2AM on the May 2nd 1983'. I don't know why it was Samuel, there wasn't really much point of it being that because I never once heard them actually call you it." Dean paused. "I got to hold you pretty much straight after. Mom told me to sit down and then Dad brought you over. I remember I was panicked because I didn't want to hurt you. I was terrified that I would like break you if I dropped you or something..."
Sam smiled as he listened to his brother tell him about their mother, smiling as he slowly fell into the darkness once again.
It had been so long since they had been captured in the woods, and Dean was trying his best to keep Sam hopeful. Dean found this to be an arduous task itself when he himself was rapidly losing hope of being rescued.
Sam was laying on the floor, unconscious after being tortured a few minutes earlier. Dean was in the process of inching his way closer to his little brother, black spots dancing in front of his eyes as he did so. The oldest Winchester sibling was barely functioning through the pain of breathing, nevermind moving. Being shackled to the wall was proving tedious, now that the man had stopped throwing the key down after he was done with one of them. When Dean finally made it to Sam's side, his heart seized at the sight of his small, bloodied form.
Sam was in very, very bad shape. His face was covered in blood, along with the rest of his body. He had Dean's plaid shirt wrapped around the worst of his wounds. His hair stuck to his face due to a mixture of sweat and blood, and there were bags under his eyes. Neither of them had actually slept since they were jumped, the only rest they got in unconsciousness when they fell into it, if you could call that rest, and that was definitely taking its toll on the Winchester brothers. That and starvation. They had devoured the meagre portions of food they were given, and consumed the trickle of water that the man would give them each day, just to keep them alive. Because that's what the man wanted. As much as he wanted the Winchester's dead, he himself wouldn't be content with just slaughtering them outright. No, he wanted them to suffer. To beg for his mercy. He wanted them to reach their lowest and then fall down further.
Dean wasn't doing all too well himself. The only tools he had to try and slow down his own flow of blood from his stomach was the last, small remaining piece of fabric from his shirt, and his hands. Sam kept offering the shirt that was wrapped around him, but Dean refused everytime. He could never take the thing that was keeping his brother alive for his own sake. Through the time that they had spent down in the basement, Dean had found himself constantly fighting to stay conscious, knowing that he had to protect and care for his little brother.
Dean was pulled from his efforts of first aid at the sound of the door opening, tearing his eyes from Sam to the man (if he still deserved that classification), who was currently walking down the stairs, his usual psychopathic grin plastered on his face.
"Leave him alone..." Dean growled weakly.
"I will. I'm not here for him." He responded, smiling evilly.
The man walked towards Dean, and grabbed him by the wrist. Despite Dean's weak attempts to fight back, he unlocked Dean's shackle and pulled him roughly over to the table before dragging him onto it and strapping him down.
"No..." Dean moaned, squirming and pulling at his restraints in a desperate attempt to escape from the torture which he knew was coming.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Dean..." The man began. "I mean...I could always use little Sammy over there...Would you rather it be your brother, Dean?" He asked.
Dean shook his head weakly before turning to see his little brother looking up at him from his position on the floor. There was a look of fear in his eyes.
'It's okay, Sammy...It's okay...' He reassured wordlessly.
And then it began.
The white-hot pain spread like fire all over Dean's body as the man began cutting mercilessly into the eldest Winchester. Dean screamed in pain, willing himself through the torture as he found the strength to turn and once again find his little brother.
Sam was curled up now, hands covering his ears as he tried to block out Dean's screams, tears rolling down dirty, bloodstained cheeks.
The torture went on for hours, but to Dean, it felt like days. Dean was so out of it by the end of his ordeal, that he barely even realised it was over. So relief soon washed over him as he felt the restraints that had been holding him to the table loosen from his wrists. The next sensation was falling as the man threw him from the table to the stone floor and walked out wordlessly, before locking the door behind him.
Dean groaned in pain as he lay on the floor. Having landed on his stomach, Dean rested his head down against his arm as his eyes fell closed.
Sam stared at his big brother laying on the floor across the room. Groaning quietly, he pulled himself up slightly before slowly and weakly inching closer to his brother. Reaching him, Sam ignored the throbbing pain cursing through his limbs, the pounding in his head and the nausea that was still prominently attacking his stomach as he pulled his brother upright and leant him back against the wall. "De...De..." Sam placed a hand on his brother's cheek as he willed his brother to open his eyes.
"Sammy?..." Dean responded with a groan.
"It's ok, Dean." He said comfortingly.
"How are you doing?" Dean asked weakly.
"Wonderful." Sam smirked after his sarcastic reply.
"I don't know how much longer I can stay awake, Sammy." There was guilt in Dean's voice, and Sam knew that it was his brother's protectiveness of him that had willed him to stay conscious all this time.
"It's okay, Dean...It's okay..."
Dean smiled a little before delicately lifting his arm.
Sam subconsciously found his brother's side and leant against it, feeling Dean's arm descend and wrap around his waist after he was in place.
"Everything's gonna be okay, Dean..." Sam reassured. "I promise..."
Witnessing his older brother's eyes close, Sam sighed before squeezing his own closed as he tried to control the pain that the easiest of movements had just caused him.
Sam felt himself losing consciousness as he looked up at his brother. He didn't even care about Dean punching him anymore. It was such a small thing now. Dean had been protecting him from the moment they had been thrown down into the crazy man's basement, and once again proved just how much he loved his little brother.
Smiling, Sam's eyes began to flicker before he too fell into deep, deep unconsciousness.
Bobby was a patient man. Just not when it came to his boys.
It had been almost a week since John had told him that he'd sent Sam and Dean on a hunt, and he was worried. Neither one of the Winchester brothers had yet to answer their phones, which was unusual because the boys always had their phones on them and always answered, especially when it was Bobby who was ringing
"That's it." Bobby said, and he walked out of the door. The forest they were hunting at wasn't too far from his house, and was he hell just gonna' sit around any longer.
While he was driving, Bobby gave John a call.
"Hello?" John asked.
"John. Those kids of yours, where are they?" Bobby questioned immediately.
"Have you heard from that at all?"
"Not since I dropped them off."
Bobby once again found his patience wearing thin. "And that doesn't worry you at all?!" He bit his tongue to stop his anger from erupting.
"They're fine. I sent them into the woods, they're not exactly known for having great signal."
"You amaze me, you know that?" Bobby hung up, a mixture of anger and concern fueling him.
Bobby made it to the forest in four hours. Not that Bobby felt that was quick enough.
He walked through the woods, looking for the monster's hideout that he heard was supposed to be around here. There was an eerie feeling about the whole place. It was cold and dark. Everything seemed harsh and unwelcoming.
Bobby's path was blocked by a large rock wall. He felt across it and found an indent in the stone. Tracing it with his finger, Bobby soon discovered a rough outline of a door. He used all of his strength to push the stone and the door came open, slowly but surely.
"Yahtzee." He said quietly and walked inside.
The inside was quite like the outside. It was made of the same dark grey stone as the door. It was very bare and dark.
"You found it." A strange man said. A light flicked on and there stood the monster that lurked the woods.
"You're just a man." Bobby commented in amazement. This didn't last long, though, as Bobby's next move was to raise his gun and point it at the man's chest.
"Afraid so. The name's Dan." he replied.
"Where are they?" Bobby asked in a stern tone.
"Where are who?"
"Don't play dumb. Sam and Dean."
The man didn't answer, he instead smirked.
Bobby cocked his gun. "You can either tell me right now where they are, or I'll shoot you."
"If you did that, you'd never find them." The man answered. "Not that you'd kill me anyway. You're not like their father." He paused. "You're not like John."
"No. I'm much worse." And with that, Bobby fired a calculated shot which struck the man between the eyes, straight through his brain.
With a swift search of Dan's body, he found a key. He took it and looked around the room. He found a wooden door in the corner. It looked as though it were falling to pieces. Bobby wasted no time and kicked it down. He headed down the stairs into the basement. The sight he was greeted with was not a pretty one.
Both Winchester brothers were propped up against one of the stone walls of the basement in each others arms. There were pools of blood everywhere, and they both looked horrible. Slashes covered their bodies making the boys look as if they'd been sliced within an inch of their lives.
"No, no, no..." Bobby muttered and ran over to them.
He immediately put two fingers to Dean's neck. Relieved to find the pulse of the eldest Winchester, Bobby didn't care that it was weak, all that mattered was that he was still fighting. "Good boy..." He praised with a weak smile as he clapped a hand gingerly on Dean's shoulder before looking down at the youngest. Placing two fingers against Sam's neck, Bobby's eyes widened at the dangerously weak, nearly non-existent pulse that he felt. "Hang in there, tiger, I'm gonna' get you boys to a hospital." Bobby picked up Sam, being mindful of the wounds and carried him out to his car. As soon as he had laid him down in the back seat, he ran back to get Dean.
In that time, Dean had regained consciousness. Bobby walked in to find Dean with a terrified expression on his face.
"Dean!" Bobby said and ran over to him.
"Where's Sam?!" Dean asked fearfully.
"He's in my car. I got him out of here. It's okay." Bobby comforted.
This seemed to calm Dean down slightly. Bobby picked him up and apologised for the pain it caused him when Dean hissed because of the movement. The two made their way out of the hideout and into the woods. Dean passed out halfway to the car. Bobby knew they had to get to the hospital quickly.
As soon as he put Dean in the car next to his brother, Bobby got into the driver's side and started the engine. He rushed off towards the hospital, comforting Dean as he bobbed in and out of consciousness, worrying about Sammy.
"He's going to be fine, Dean, it's okay." Bobby would tell him.
When they got to the hospital, Bobby ran inside and alerted some doctors. Soon the Winchester brothers were both on stretchers and being rushed inside. Dean woke up and saw their current situation. He looked at Sam's unconscious form and started freaking out. This was only intensified when they took Sam down a separate hallway. The doctors had to sedate Dean to even get a good look at his wounds.
Sam, on the other hand was unconscious the entire time.
Bobby had been in the waiting room for about six hours now. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get rid of the thoughts that plagued his mind.
What if you didn't get there in time? What if there is no saving them? What if they are going to die? Maybe this is the end of the line. Bobby thought. He shook his head. He couldn't be thinking of things like this right now. They are strong, they will pull through.
Bobby pulled out his phone and went through his contacts. He stopped on John's phone number and dialed it.
"Hello?" John's gruff voice picked up.
"You stupid son of a bitch!" Bobby yelled. "What were you thinking?!"
"What do you mean?!" John asked.
"Your boys are in the hospital because you left them there! You didn't even think to check on them, you ass! How could you?! Sam and Dean were mangled when I found them, they looked like they had been thrown through a wood chipper!"
"What happened?!" John questioned.
"They were captured and tortured! What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I should have prepared them better..." John said, somewhat guiltily.
"PREPARED THEM BETTER?!" Bobby was done with this, "You sent them on this job! One of the most dangerous places to go FOR A HUNTER! And you say you SHOULD HAVE PREPARED THEM BETTER?! YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE SENT THEM AT ALL!" With that, Bobby hung up and shoved his phone back in his pocket.
One of the doctors that took Sam and Dean walked up to Bobby and asked, "Are you Sam and Dean Smith's Uncle?"
"Yes, that's me." Bobby responded, worry taking over him once again. "How are they?"
"Your nephews needed a lot of stitches, they were cut up pretty badly." He told Bobby.
"But are they okay?"
"Dean will be fine, he just needs some rest."
"What about Sam?"
The doctor sighed. "Your nephew was given a large amount of sedatives and other drugs during his time in captivity. The cocktail in which he was injected with caused a great deal of complications." He paused. "Sam has fallen into a coma."
"What are his chances, Doc?" He asked in a soft tone.
The Doctor sighed. "I've seen people in better condition than Sam not wake up, but that doesn't mean that Sam doesn't still have a chance of awakening. It's all down to him right now, but I would suggest that you have realistic expectations."
Bobby didn't know how to respond. Or whether or not he could respond. Sam was in a coma. It just didn't seem possible.
"We've put your nephews in the same room. Dean didn't seem to want to be separated from his brother. You can go see them if you want."
Bobby only nodded. The doctor led him to the room in which both brothers were sharing and left him. Bobby headed inside to see both Sam and Dean asleep. He sat down in a chair between their beds and looked at them both. They looked better than they did when he found them, but not at all healthy.
Dean began to stir. "Bobby?..."
"Yeah, I'm here, Dean." Bobby answered.
"How's Sam?" He asked immediately.
When Bobby didn't answer, Dean opened his eyes quickly and looked over at the other bed. His little brother looked as pale as the sheets that were covering him. The first thing that Dean noticed was the tube down Sam's throat and the many wires and monitors that were surrounding him. Dean looked back at Bobby with wide, scared eyes that made him look so childlike in his fear. "Bobby?" His voice cracked.
Another doctor walked through the door.
Dean immediately turned to him. "What's wrong with my brother?" The strength had returned to Dean's voice.
"Mr Smith..." The doctor began.
"Just tell me what's wrong with him."
"The drugs that your brother was injected with badly affected his body. Because of this, your brother fell into a coma. Your brother's lungs were unable to breathe own their own so we had to incubate him, which is the tube down your brother's throat."
"He's in a coma..." Dean's eyes were wide once again as his voice softly repeated the doctor's words, finding his little brother once again. He watched the mechanic rise and fall of his little brother's chest as the ventilator whooshed away in the background, keeping Sam alive in the place of his lungs.
"Your brother's fighting very hard." The doctor reassured.
"So when's he gonna' wake up?" Dean asked before he began to shake his head as silence rang out through the hospital room. "No...no...my brother's waking up. Sam's waking up...he's not leaving me here."
"Dean..." Bobby began.
"Mr Smith, you need to calm down, you're body is still recov..."
"No!" Dean shouted, interrupting the doctor. "No! My brother isn't breathing on his own and is in a coma!" He stated. "Don't tell me to calm down!" Dean proceeded to try and get out of bed to see Sam.
"Dean..." Bobby tried once again to get the oldest Winchester sibling to calm down. He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder to stop him from getting up from the bed, but all it led to was Dean getting aggressive through the touch.
"Get off me, I have to be with him!"
"Dean, listen to me..." Bobby stated. "Don't fight me, boy..."
Dean growled in anger as he tried to break free of Bobby's hold.
And then he felt the prick, and a sensation of drowsiness came over him.
"Mr Smith, you need to relax..." The doctor was gently lowering him back down against the bed. "That's it...don't fight it, just relax..."
His eyes flickered closed and he found himself drifting off to sleep.
When Dean found himself coming too once again, he slowly opened his eyes, finding them sensitive to the light that was pouring in through the window. Turning his head slightly revealed Bobby sat once again in the chair between his and Sam's hospital beds.
"You not got a house of something?" Dean spoke up, his abused throat making his voice sound rough. He then smiled.
Bobby looked up and over at the eldest Winchester boy and smiled back at the sight of him awake. "Yeah, but someone's gotta' look after you and your idjit brother."
Dean smirked. "How long was I out?"
"The stuff the doctor gave you knocked you out, and then when that wore off you slept for 19 hours straight."
Dean's eyes widened.
"I think you were going for the record." Bobby smiled. "There's news on your brother too."
Dean immediately became alert.
"Sam started breathing for himself, so he's off the ventilator." Bobby explained.
Dean smiled. "Bobby..." He began but was cut off by the old man.
"Dean you don't have to..."
"No, I do..." Dean firmly stated. "Thank you, for everything. I mean we would have still been down there if you hadn't have come look for us. Clearly Dad wasn't coming so..." His voice trailed off slightly. "We wouldn't have lasted much longer down there...Sam wouldn't have lasted much longer." At the mention of Sam, Dean looked over at his brother.
"Sam is in a coma... My little brother is in a coma..."
Bobby looked at Dean and saw tears rolling down his cheeks. His heart wrenched at the sight. Dean never cried. John had always drilled that into him as a kid. Telling him that he had to be strong, and that meant no crying.
"It's all my fault, Bobby..." Dean said quietly.
"Hey. Don't say that. This isn't your fault, Dean."
"It is." Dean nodded. "I punched him, Bobby." Dean spoke up after a few minutes of silence.
"What?" Bobby asked.
"Before we went on the hunt, I'd lost Mom's ring...I thought he'd stolen it...I got so mad with him, and I just lost it." He paused. "I punched him... I didn't mean to..."
"Sam's a strong kid. He knows you didn't mean it...He knows you love him." Bobby reassured him.
Dean didn't look convinced.
"And you haven't lost your Mom's ring, you left it at my house the last time your Dad dumped you two. I have it here." Bobby stated before fishing around in his pocket and pulling out the ring. He handed it to Dean.
Dean looked at it and turned it over in his hands. He smiled at the sight of it, thankful that he hadn't actually lost it.
At least he had one thing he could count on right now. And it wasn't his Mom's ring.
It was Bobby.
Dean slipped the ring onto the usual finger before looking over at his little brother once again.
Bobby knew instantly where the boy's gaze lay. Reaching out a hand, he took Dean's in his, being careful not to disturb the IV in his wrist as he gently squeezed it in reassurance. "Your brother's gonna' be just fine, Dean." He stated softly. "You Winchester's are stubborn little bastards at the best of times, so I doubt it's gonna' be any different now."
"Thanks, Bobby." Dean smiled.
"You're welcome." He nodded. "Now..." Bobby stood up. "I'm gonna' go and get us some proper food instead of this hospital crap. You take it easy, you hear?"
Bobby walked off out the room.
Once he was sure that Bobby was far gone down the corridor, Dean gingerly swung his legs off the bed before taking hold of the IV pole. Using it to steady him, Dean let himself drop down the short distance to the floor, his legs shaking slightly and his feet tingling at the chilly temperature of the hospital floor. Walking slowly over to Sam's bed, the IV pole keeping him upright, Dean found another old chair and sat down in it.
It looked even worse up close. From his own bed he had not been able to see the sheer amount of stitches and bandages that covered his brother's chest and arms. Sam just looked so young and broken as he lay there silently.
He took his little brother's hand in his and squeezed it gently, shuffling the chair forward so that he could lean on the edge of his brother's mattress. "Sammy... I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry." Dean paused. "I found mom's ring. You didn't have it. I know that now." Dean said, his voice cracking. "You're right, you know. I know you lost mom too. I just get so caught up in it all sometimes...I was being an ass and I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have hit you...and now you're in a coma...and the doctor's are saying that you might now wake up..." Dean sniffed as he wiped his hand across his eyes. "Sammy, please..." And that's when he broke down. Burying his head in his arms on Sam's bed, Dean began to sob.
And that's when he felt it, a hand gently running through his hair.
Sniffling, Dean looked up to see his little brother awake, with a hand outstretched and resting now on the mattress beside where his head had been. "Sammy?..."
Sam smiled, weakly. "De..." A gruff voice answered softly.
"Sam!" Dean broke out into a smile as he took in the sight. "Oh thank god."
"It's okay, Dean. I'm okay." He reassured his brother.
"I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..." Dean found himself crying again as he took his little brother's hand is his and squeezed it. "...about hitting you, and what I said, and Mom's ring. It was at Bobby's the whole time. I'd left it there when Dad was on that hunt in Texas. You never had it, I'm so sorry..." Dean babbled.
"I forgave you days ago, Dean." Sam stated with a smile. "And thank you."
"For what?" Dean asked.
"For looking after me...like you always do." He smiled.
There was silence for a few seconds before Sam spoke up once again.
"You do realise that by crying you totally made this into a chick flick moment, right?" Sam smirked. "I mean you were full on weeping by my bedside, man."
"Shut up, bitch."
"Jerk." Both brothers smiled at their usual exchange.
"I thought I'd lost you, man." Dean told his little brother.
"You're not gonna' get rid of me that easily, Dean." Sam reassured with a smirk.
And this time, Dean believed it.
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