Unhinged

Chapter 11

"Dean's on his way, Sam." Robbie looked over at Sam, a small smile on his face. Hanging up Sam's phone, Robbie waved the gun at him, urging him over to the chair once again.

"I told you to keep Dean out of it." Sam said, as he slowly got up from the floor and walked over to the chair. How the hell he let the psychotic clerk get the better of him once again, Sam just didn't know. He could only imagine the shit and ridicule Dean would give him for this. Then again, Sam could always bring up the fact that Dean let a thirteen year old girl get the drop on him back when they were dealing with the Benders. The thought made Sam chuckle, albeit a little hysterically.

"What are you laughing at?" Robbie asked as he yanked Sam's hands behind his back.

"None of your damn business," Sam ground out as he felt the rope once again bite into his wrists.

"You won't be laughing soon, Sam." Robbie tightened the ropes with a final jerk, causing Sam to grunt in pain. Déjà vu all over again, Sam thought ruefully. "Not when you see what I have planned for you."

"Yeah, and what's that?" Sam asked as Robbie secured his legs to the chair.

Robbie looked up at him and smiled. "I wouldn't want to give away the big punch line, now would I?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I guess not." As soon as Robbie finished, Sam tested for slack in the ropes and wasn't surprised when he found they once again held strong. "You still don't have it in your head that Dean's not going to be your so-called 'brother,' do you?"

Robbie dug into his bag and pulled out a cordless jigsaw. Holding it up, he inspected the thin blade, then looked at Sam. "I can see now that Dean will never be what I need; he's too obsessed in his desire to make sure nothing happens to you."

"So, what is this all about now, Robbie?"

Robbie shrugged as he pulled the other chair across the room and positioned it under one of the support beams of the ceiling. "The way I see it, Sam, if I can't have Dean as a brother, then why should you?"

Sam felt a cold fear grip his heart as Robbie's words sunk in. He's going to kill Dean and me…"You're going to kill Dean?"

Robbie stood up on the chair, but didn't look at Sam. "I never said that. But I am going to teach Dean a lesson."

"What lesson is that?"

"Sorry, Sam—can't tell you that."

"Let me guess…you're going to kill me? Make Dean watch?"

Robbie didn't say anything as he began to saw through a portion of the beam but Sam knew he was right in his guess. It was the one true way to hurt Dean, really cut him to the core. If you went after his baby brother and made him watch, made him unable to do anything about it, it would haunt Dean for the rest of his life and it would scar more than any injury you could inflict on the older hunter. Any idiot could see that and they usually did, which never bode well for Sam.

Robbie finished with his cut, then moved the chair over a few feet and began the process all over again. He did this two more times before placing the jigsaw back in his bag. Before he closed the bag, he pulled out a small notepad and a pen. Then, grabbing the chair and Sam's gun from the table, he sat in front of Sam and stared at him.

"You know I would tell you to take a picture, but that seems a little childish as this point." Sam smirked.

Robbie grinned. "We still got some time to kill. What do you say we play a little game, Sam?"

"What kind of game?"

Robbie shrugged. "The rules are simple enough: I ask you a question and you answer it truthfully."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Why don't you piss off?"

Robbie sighed. "Let me put it this way—you don't play along and I'll shoot Dean as soon as he walks through that door and then I'll shoot you."

"You're going to kill me anyway, so what difference does it make?"

"You do what I say and you save your brother."

Sam didn't believe Robbie for a second, but really what did he have to lose? Maybe Robbie was telling the truth when he said he wouldn't kill Dean. If Sam could at least save his brother from the psycho, then he would be happy. That's not saying Dean was going to be happy but Dean would have to get over it. It was all part of the unwritten code for being brothers—you're always ready and willing to sacrifice yourself for the other—and if you both somehow survived, then that entitled the other to kick your ass.

"Fine," Sam muttered.

"Good." Robbie beamed as he hit himself on the thigh and stood up. "Tell me about a time when you and Dean were apart."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Why would you want to know that?"

"Rule number three, Sam: you don't get to answer the questions with a question."

Sam let out a loud sigh. "When I went to Stanford."

Robbie scribbled in his notebook. "How long were you gone?"

"Two years."

"You left Dean alone for two years?"

"I went to college—I never left Dean."

"That's not what it sounds like to me." Robbie tapped his chin with the nuzzle of the gun and Sam had the fleeting hope the deranged man would shoot himself. "What was your favorite class at school?"

Sam gave a small shrug. "I don't know…Philosophy, I guess."

"Interesting. Did you have any friends?"

"Of course I did."

"What were their names?"

"Why the hell would I tell you that?"

"What did I say about questions, Sam?" Robbie stopped pacing long enough to fix Sam with a glare. "Just give me a couple of names."

If this wasn't getting weird before, it certainly is now… "Brandon and Michelle."

"Did you have a favorite place you liked to hang out?"

"A bar a couple of blocks away from the campus—Harry's."

"Did you have any nicknames at school?"

Sam tried not to let his irritation show on his face. He didn't understand why Robbie was asking these question, why he was even wasting his time with them. "My friends would call me Stilts."

"Who's your favorite band?"

"I don't know—I like a lot of them."

"Pick one."

"Matchbox Twenty, I guess."

Robbie once again wrote in his notebook. "What's your favorite food?"

"Anything Italian—is that specific enough for you?" Sam bit off.

Robbie ignored him. "Shoe size?"

"What the—?" Sam stopped as Robbie glared at him again. "Twelve."

"You have a computer, right?"

"Yes."

"What's your password?"

"Why, you plan on taking it as soon as you kill me?"

"Sam, I don't think you quite understand the rules of the game, here." Robbie walked over to him and backhanded Sam across the face. Sam's head jerked back from the impact and he tasted blood. "Now, I will ask you again—what is your password."

"Jessilee," Sam said softly.

"Cute." Robbie smirked. "Old girlfriend?"

"Shut up," Sam ground out between clenched teeth.

Robbie tilted his head to the side. "Ooh, did I hit a sore spot?"

Sam didn't say anything, just continued to glare at Robbie. No way was he going to tell this asshole about Jessica—he would not tarnish her memory like that, no matter what Robbie threatened him with. Dean would understand—Dean always understood when it came to Sam and Jessica.

"Do you have any scars?"

"I have a lot of scars. You're going to have to be a little more specific."

"Any scars that Dean doesn't know about, maybe?"

"There's one on my left arm."

"How did you get it?"

"I burned myself when I was getting something out of the oven when I was at Stanford." That at least wasn't a lie. He'd burned his arm after he'd gotten some cookies out of the oven for Jess and the scar was a faint reminder of one of the good times he'd shared with her.

Robbie shut the notebook with a snap and tossed on top of the small table. "Well, I think that about does it."

"You mind telling me what all of that was for?"

Robbie smiled. "It's called knowing your enemy better than you know yourself."

"So, I'm your enemy?"

Robbie leveled his gaze at Sam. "You've always been my enemy, Sam."

"At least I know where I stand," Sam muttered.

"I got something exciting for us planned when Dean gets here, Sam," Robbie went on as if he didn't hear Sam. "I can guarantee it's going to be fun all around."

"What are you going to do?"

"I told you I couldn't reveal the punch line, Sam." He dug around in his bag, until he found a small Zip-lock baggie. Pulling it out, he slowly approached the younger Winchester. "Now, I think you should rest up before big brother arrives, don't you."

From the corner of his eye, Sam saw Robbie open the bag and pull out a small white cloth. Catching a faint whiff of it, Sam knew instantly what was on the cloth—chloroform. Robbie walked behind him as Sam began to struggle in his chair. He knew he wouldn't be getting away from the sedative and Robbie laughed as Sam strained against the bonds.

Robbie brought the rag across Sam's nose and mouth and held it firmly in place as Sam thrashed around wildly. "You can fight it all you want Sam, but I will get what I want."

Sam fought as long as he could not to take a breath of the sweet smelling sedative, but there was only so long he could fight it. Finally, unable to deprive his lungs the air they so desperately needed, he took in a lungful of the chloroform. His vision became bleary and he felt lightheaded as the drug began to take effect.

"That's it, Sam," Robbie said softly. "One more breath and this will all be over."

I'm so sorry, Dean…Sam took a final breath and his world was shrouded in darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dean couldn't stop the slight unease that crept up his bones as he pulled up to the Eclipse. It wasn't that late in the night, but even with the full moon above, the decrepit building seemed even more ominous than it did the last time he'd been there. Maybe it was the fact he didn't know what awaited him in there. When he and Sam came a couple of days ago, he knew what to expect since it was a spirit haunting the place. With Robbie in there with his younger brother in his clutches, Dean had to go back with his original sentiment that people were crazy. He would much rather face off with an angry spirit right now than a stark-raving lunatic.

The entire drive to the Eclipse, Dean couldn't help but question himself and his ability to protect his younger brother. Wasn't that his job, what he was supposed to do, his entire reason for living? What more did he have if he couldn't safeguard the one person who gave his life meaning? What did that say for the rest of the innocents he vowed to protect and keep safe?

What if this was it? What if Robbie finally turned to fruition what so many demons and monsters had tried many times over? What if an unhinged psychopath was the one to finally do Sam in? How could Dean live with that? How could he live with the fact that Sam was right all along and he did nothing to allay his brother's fears. Now, because of his stupidity and stubbornness Sam was going to be the one to pay for Dean's mistake.

Don't think like that, Dean. You're going to get Sam out of this and then you're going to make sure Robbie pays for what he's done. Not only for Sam, but for Matthew as well. Now get your ass in gear and quit brooding, Winchester!

Reaching over into the glove compartment, Dean pulled out his treasured Desert Eagle .45 and after making sure it was properly loaded, stuffed it into the waistband of his jeans. He also pulled out a small flashlight and after testing it to make sure it shone brightly, he got out of the Impala and walked back to the trunk. As he popped it, he stood there staring at the cache of weapons. He knew he couldn't bring them because Sam would never let Dean give Robbie the justice he totally deserved. Sam wouldn't let Dean kill the clerk no matter how angry they may be with him.

He grabbed a large coil of rope and stuffed it into the small canvas bag. He closed the trunk softly and after taking a deep breath, made his trek towards the old hotel.

"Just hold on, Sammy…I'm coming."

After making his way through the fence, Dean walked towards the hotel, his senses on high alert. An owl hooted and Dean looked up in the canopy of trees to see the nocturnal animal watching him from his perch. "What the hell are you looking at, Hedwig?"

Okay, how the hell do I know the owl from Harry Potter?

The owl hooted again and Dean shook his head as he cautiously opened the door and entered. Quiet surrounded him and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Dean never liked the quiet, but then again he wasn't expecting Robbie to be throwing a party for him to announce his location. He was starting to learn that maybe the clerk wasn't as stupid as he appeared to be.

"All right…morgue…where's the damn morgue?"

Taking a few steps forward, Dean frowned as the floor began to creak under his weight but then had to laugh at himself. The hotel was several decades old and the floors were all hardwood. It wasn't completely odd that they would be creaking. Shaking himself, he took another step forward and his nerves shot to high alert as the floor actually shifted under him. Before he could get to safe ground, he felt the wood give under his weight.

"Son of a—" Dean's words were cut off as he fell through the floor. For a brief instant he felt as if he were flying but reality came back to him as he crashed to the ground, debris raining down on him from above. Coughing, Dean pushed himself through the haze of pain threatening to over take him and glanced around the room he'd fallen through as he thrust a couple of the beams off of him.

I guess I found the morgue…or more like the morgue found me…

His heart caught in his throat as he saw his brother sitting in a chair across the room. Through his fuzzy vision, he couldn't tell if Sam was tied up or not, but he could see his sibling wasn't moving.

"Sam…" Dean said weakly.

"Sorry, Dean. Sam's taking a little nap right now."

Dean looked up to see Robbie standing behind him, a cruel smile on his face but that wasn't what worried the elder hunter. What did worry him was what said psycho was holding in his hands.

"I think it's time for you to take a nap as well, Dean. Then you, Sam, and I can have a nice little chat."

Without warning, Robbie swung the board at Dean's head like a baseball bat. As the swing connected with his head, for a brief instant Dean saw stars and then nothing else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Robbie's smile widened as he looked down at the fallen hunter at his feet. He never wanted it to come to this, but his hand had been forced. If only Dean would have given up and allowed Robbie to take Sam's place, then none of this would be happening. So, really this was all Dean's fault.

Yep, Sam's death was going to be Dean's fault. It was the best punishment Robbie could inflict on the older man and it seemed fitting really. Besides that, it may even benefit Robbie in the long run. Maybe Dean would get so desperate for companionship that he would greet Robbie with open arms. The troubled young man knew it wouldn't be immediate, but eventually Dean would see things his way.

Kicking the fallen brother in the side, Robbie didn't see how this couldn't work in his favor. Sam was going to die—it was as simple as that. Truth be told, Robbie was never going to let him go in the first place. Sam would always come between him and Dean and Robbie just couldn't deal with the younger brother. He wasn't willing to risk his future that way.

Nope, it had to be done like this. Robbie needed to see for himself if Dean and Sam were really meant to be brothers or if he'd been right about them all along.

"It's time for the real games to begin…"

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