Unhinged

Chapter 8


Sam really wished the drum solo in his head would stop, or at the very least play at a softer volume that wouldn't threaten to split his head wide open. He couldn't understand why his head was hurting so much. He couldn't remember having a vision, but the way his head was pounding right now, it was a good possibility that one had taken him down. He tried to bring his hand up to massage his aching skull, but found that for some reason it was proving impossible.

Slowly opening his eyes, he couldn't make out anything but the darkness surrounding him. He tried to lift his head, but as soon as he did he banged it on a hard surface. Gasping as another spike of pain shot through his head, he fought back a wave of nausea threatening to overtake him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to figure out where he was.

He couldn't move his hands, though he knew they were in front of him—that meant he was tied up. Lifting up both hands, he slowly felt around and nearly choked as he felt what surrounded him. There was a wall on either side, not the mention the one that was above his head. Coffin…I'm trapped in a damn coffin!

The texture of the walls were different—it was smooth like metal, not the fake silk that usually lined coffins. The young psychic let out a relieved sigh, but wondered why he was doing it. He was still trapped, whether it was in a coffin or not. Sam didn't like the feeling of being trapped. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was claustrophobic, it wasn't like he was about to panic, but he did like the ability to move around and know his surroundings.

How the hell did I get here?

Sam frowned and then his eyes widened as the memory hit him full force. The phone call at the motel…Robbie asking for help…I drove out to where Robbie was standing by his car…I was leaning down to change the flat tire…A sharp pain at the back of my head…then darkness. He frowned further as he remembered what Robbie said to him before he completely blacked out. "But you have something I want."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? What did he have that could make Robbie attack him and stash him somewhere? Sam's stomach churned as he realized he'd been right all along. He knew the motel clerk was bad news and now look where it had landed him. Why the hell didn't I call Dean before I left?

Dean!

Did Robbie do something to his brother as well? If not, then he knew Dean had to be freaking out when he got to the motel and didn't see Sam or the Impala there. Sam wasn't even sure how long he'd been unconscious. Would Robbie do something to Dean now that Sam was out of the way?

Not if I can help it…Gritting his teeth, Sam pushed against his prison with his feet, the hollow sound echoing all around him. It wasn't doing anything for his head, but he couldn't worry about that. He had to get out and get to Dean before it was too late.

"DEAN!" Sam kept yelling his name over and over while constantly kicking the hard surface in front of him, but no one answered back. He was about to start all over again, when he heard a click and all of a sudden, he was rolled backwards. Squinting his eyes as a light hit him, he could barely make out the shape standing over him.

"You can make as much noise as you want, Sam, but no one's gonna hear you. Especially not Dean."

Sam's blood ran cold as he made out Robbie's voice. Blinking his eyes a few more times, he could finally make out Robbie's features, but that wasn't what scared him the most. What did scare him was what the motel clerk was holding in his hand—a long silver knife. To be more specific, one of Dean's prized hunting knives.

"Where are we?"

"We're at the Eclipse, of course. It's amazing what you find in here when you wander around at night. Who knew this place had so many hidden rooms?"

"What do you want, Robbie?"

Robbie smiled. "First, I want you to move over to that chair over there," he said, jutting his chin over his shoulder.

Sam turned his head and saw a sturdy, wooden chair sitting in the middle of the room. Swallowing hard, he tried to come up with options. He could try to make a run for it, but he didn't know how reliable his legs would be after being cramped up for so long. He could fight Robbie, and even though the mousy clerk wasn't something to be intimidated by, he was holding a knife and it was currently pointed as Sam's throat. His third option, and the one that seemed most plausible, would be to go along with Robbie and make a break for it as soon as he saw an opening.

"It wasn't a request, Sam."

Pushing himself up as best he could with his tied hands, Sam twisted his body, planting his feet on the floor. It was then he could see he'd been inside a morgue cabinet the entire time, and that made the nauseous feeling come back. There was no telling how many dead bodies had been inside there over the years.

Standing to his full height, Sam saw from the corner of his eye that Robbie kept his distance, while keeping the knife in a firm grasp in front of him. Walking slowly, Sam finally made his way to the chair and sat down, his eyes never leaving the troubled young man in front of him. "Now what?"

"Now I make sure you don't go anywhere." He brought the knife down and cut the rope around Sam's wrists. "Put your hands behind you."

Sam hesitated. If he was going to make his escape, now would be the time to do it.

Robbie glared at him as if he was reading his mind. "Don't even think about it, Sam. You don't do what I say, I'll go pay Dean a little visit right now."

Sam returned the glare as he slowly brought his hands behind him. His eyes followed Robbie as the clerk produced another coil of rope from a small canvas bag and walked behind him. "You leave Dean alone or I swear to God I'll kill you."

Robbie didn't say anything as he wrapped the rope tightly around Sam's wrists, making sure he secured them to the chair. He gave it one final harsh tug, making the young hunter let out an involuntary grunt. Then, he walked back around to face Sam as he leaned down to tie his feet to each chair leg. After he finished, he stepped back and admired his work.

Sam began to struggle with the ropes, but every move he made only made the hemp dig further into his flesh. "Why are you doing this, Robbie?"

Robbie grabbed another chair and placed it a few feet from Sam. Sitting down, he looked up at the bound man, lightly fingering the blade of the knife. "I'm doing this for Dean."

Sam felt a shiver ravage his body. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Robbie frowned. "I'm saving him from you, Sam."

"What are you talking about?"

Robbie sighed as he stood up and began to pace. "You don't respect him, Sam; you don't treat him like you should treat a brother." He stopped as he fixed Sam with a piercing glare. "But I could do that—I can give Dean what he needs."

Sam scoffed. "That's what this is about?" The hunter shook his head in disbelief. "You get your brother killed and now you want to make up for it by using Dean as a substitute?"

Sam barely had time to react as Robbie stormed the few feet towards him and brought his fist up against his jaw. Sam's head jerked from the impact and he looked at the clerk in mild surprise. He never in a million years thought Robbie could hit like that.

Robbie flexed his right hand, and continued to glare at Sam, chest heaving. "Don't you dare talk about my brother like that!"

The younger Winchester felt a small spark of victory as he saw the anger and pain flash across Robbie's face. That was going to be the way to get out of this mess—use Robbie's painful past against him. "It's true isn't it, Robbie?" Sam asked as he flexed his jaw back and forth.

"Shut up."

"James would still be alive if it weren't for you."

"It was an accident."

"Maybe it was." Sam leveled his gaze at Robbie. "Or maybe it wasn't."

Robbie shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe I don't."

Robbie continued to shake his head, as if he were trying to clear away the horrible memory. "James…he wanted to leave me."

"So you shot him?"

"NO!" Robbie strode towards Sam once, but instead of hitting him, he brought the blade up against the young hunter's throat. "It was an accident, can't you see, Sam? I never meant to hurt my brother…NEVER!"

Sam winced as he felt the blade pierce his skin. He could see he was pushing Robbie too hard, he was making the motel clerk to lose control. If he didn't watch his step, he felt for sure Robbie would kill him on the spot. How could he help Dean if he was dead?

"James was everything to me. He was the only thing I had in this world," Robbie was saying softly.

"But why Dean, Robbie? What is it you think he can do for you?"

Robbie lowered the knife and slowly stepped back from Sam. Sam let out a soft sigh as Robbie once again took his seat.

"I've seen the way Dean treats you, Sam. The way he looks out for you, protects you—I used to have all of that." His brows furrowed together. "Dean could do the same for me. I can show him what a great little brother I could be and with time he'll forget all about you."

Sam's lips twitched into a sardonic smile. "You really think that?"

"I know it." Robbie looked him right in the eyes, his gaze unwavering. "You don't think this is the first time I've done this, do you?"

Sam looked at the deranged man in shock. Just what the hell was that supposed to mean? If it meant what Sam thought it did, then he and Dean were in for a world of trouble. "What are you talking about?"

A slow smile crept across Robbie's face. "Let me share a little story with you, Sam."

Robbie felt warmth go through him as he unlocked the door to the motel room and saw the young man sleeping on one of the two queen beds in the small room. He'd finally found what he was looking for—he'd finally found the brother he'd been searching for. Sure, he wasn't James but Matthew would be a good replacement.

Robbie had met the young man as he was passing through Travers on his way to Montgomery, Alabama. Matthew just happened to stop at Travers Inn and needed a place to stay for the night. Right when the lanky man walked through the door, Robbie knew he was there for him. It was almost as if God had finally answered his prayers.

That was three days ago. Robbie just couldn't let Matthew leave him, not like James had all those years ago. Sure, it had been a little extreme to keep Matthew drugged, but the clerk did what he had to do. He needed to make sure Mathew wasn't going to leave. He needed Matthew to see what a great brother he could be.

It had helped that Matthew was traveling alone. It made his disappearance that much easier to brush off because he didn't have anyone hanging around asking questions. Robbie had an old garage in his backyard, so he'd stashed Matthew's car in there. It got it out of the way and he knew no one would ever think to look there for it.

The room he was keeping Matthew in wasn't hard to cover up either. He'd signed a fake name to it, and with the money he'd saved over the years from working at the motel, Robbie was easily taking care of the bills. He saw no problems with his plan—this was actually going to work. Robbie was going to get everything he ever wanted and no one would be the wiser.

Softly closing the door behind him, he flipped the lock and set down the paper bag of food on the small table. Matthew really needed to eat something especially with the sedatives in his system. He didn't want Matthew to get sick because he didn't want to have to clean up the mess.

Matthew still wasn't comprehending what Robbie was wanting from him, though the motel clerk explained it to him many times over. The first day had been hard because Matthew kept trying to get away from him. Robbie had to knock him out and tie him to the bed, at least until he could get his hands on some sedatives. Luckily for him, he had a friend that worked at the hospital and it was easy to get his hands on medication strong enough to take down a horse.

Taking the food from the bag, Robbie spread it out on the table, the aromas from the diner food instantly filling the room. He wasn't exactly sure what Matthew liked to eat since they hadn't quite gotten to that topic of discussion as of yet. He'd decided to play it safe and ordered everything from burgers and fries, to cookies. Matthew was bound to like something on the table.

Deciding it was time to wake up Matthew, Robbie went into the small bathroom and grabbed a small glass of water. He'd learned the first day not to get too close to the young man when he woke him up. The bruise on his jaw was proof of that as Matthew had hit him in a startled fit. Turning to go back into the room, Robbie paused in the doorway and was shocked when he saw Matthew was no longer lying in the bed.

"What the hell?"

Setting down the cup on the counter, Robbie slowly reached behind his back and pulled out the small pistol he kept there for emergencies. He didn't want to shoot Matthew, but he had the gun just to show the young man he was serious. He'd never had to pull it out so far, but then again there was a first time for everything.

"Matthew? Where are you?" Robbie called softly.

Nothing but silence greeted him so Robbie took a cautious step forward. There was no telling where Matthew could be hiding though the tiny room didn't give too many good hiding spots. "Come on, Matthew…don't do this."

Robbie heard a noise behind him, but before he could turn around to confront it, he was pushed roughly to the ground. He managed to keep his grip on the gun and he saw a pair of feet clumsily make their way past him. Pushing himself up from the ground, he saw Matthew reaching for the doorknob.

"Matthew, don't do it!" He brought the gun up once again, clicking off the safety.

Matthew's eyes widened, though he still kept one hand on the knob. The other he held up in a placating manner. "What—what are you doing?"

Robbie gave a casual shrug. "That depends. Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm getting out of here."

The clerk shook his head. "No, you're not."

"You can't keep me locked in here like this!"

"I wouldn't have to keep you locked up if you would just listen to me. If you would just give in to this."

"Give in to what?" Matthew's voice raised a panicked octave.

"You're my brother, Matthew. Can't you see there's not anything I wouldn't do for you? I want to show you I can be a great little brother."

It was Matthew's turn to shake his head. "I'm not your brother. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

Robbie expression became pained. "But you could be."

"I don't want to be!" Matthew swallowed hard. "Please, I just want to go home to my family."

"I'm your family now."

"You're crazy! You can't keep me here!" Matthew's hand tightened on the knob, but before he could twist it, Robbie pulled the trigger shooting the fearful man in the back. Matthew fell against the door and Robbie watched with wide eyes as he slowly slid to the floor, leaving a smeared bloody trail on the door.

Robbie threw down the gun and ran over to Matthew. He turned the downed man onto his back, but it was too late for him. Matthew's eyes were closed and he wasn't breathing.

"Why did you make me do this, huh? We could have been happy together, Matthew." Robbie pushed Matthew's hair away from his eyes. "I couldn't let you leave me, Matthew. I couldn't let anyone else have you so really, you only have yourself to blame for this."

"I never wanted to kill him, Sam, but I had to. He wanted to leave me, just like James did and I couldn't bear that. I couldn't stand to lose another brother like that." Robbie looked up at Sam, but his face was expressionless.

"He never was your brother to begin with. You killed an innocent man."

Robbie shook his head. "No, I stopped him from hurting me. I stopped him from walking out on me."

"You still killed him. You made him go away. How does that justify murder?"

"I knew you wouldn't understand, Sam." Robbie leaned forward in his seat, the knife still held firmly in his hand. "I made it where Matthew could never leave me. He's always with me now."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Robbie gave a half shrug and left the question hanging.

Sam couldn't believe the young man sitting in front of him. He thought Robbie was a little "off" but this went way beyond hearing the voices in your head. The motel clerk was certifiably deranged. How in the world could he justify a murder like this? In Sam's book, if you took an innocent life, it was murder—simple as that—there was no other way around it.

Now, Sam was very worried not only for himself, but for Dean as well. What exactly did Robbie have in store for the two of them? Was he planning on doing the same thing to Dean as he'd done to Matthew? Sam knew something else which settled a sick knot on his stomach—there was no way Robbie was going to let Sam stop him from getting what he wanted.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Robbie tilted his head. "Cat got your tongue?"

Sam licked his dry lips. "What are you going to do with me?"

Robbie smiled. "I'm not going to do anything—at least, not right now. I figure I'll just keep you outta the way for a little while and we'll see what happens."

"Dean's never going to go along with this." Sam knew his brother. There was no way Dean was going to let some psycho take Sam's place. Dean was damn protective as it was, but when it came to Sam, he was downright lethal when it came to protecting what was his.

"Maybe he won't right away, but he will eventually."

Sam was about to respond when a loud chirping echoed all around him. He instantly recognized the sound as his cell phone. Straining his neck, he searched until he saw it lying on a small table a few feet away from him.

Robbie said nothing as he walked towards it. Picking it up, he glanced at the screen and smiled at Sam. "Well, well, well…speaking of Dean." The phone rang a few more times, then ceased. Not even thirty seconds later, the phone resumed its ringing. "He's persistent, ain't he?"

Sam knew Dean had to be freaking out right now. He could imagine his older brother pacing their small motel room angrily, cursing out anything in his path. Dean never handled anything relating to Sam's potential harm very well, especially as of late. After Sam had disappeared for a week a couple months ago, Dean did everything in his power to keep a close eye on him, whether Sam wanted it or not. At the time it had been a pain in the ass, but now—what Sam wouldn't give to have Dean with him here.

Robbie placed the ringing phone on the table once again. "I guess I better go make sure Dean's okay. I can only imagine how worried he must be about you, Sam."

"You leave Dean alone." Sam's voice was cold.

Robbie walked over to his bag and after putting down the knife, he pulled something out. Since his back was to Sam, the young hunter couldn't see what it was. "I told you, Sam…I'm not going to do anything to Dean. I would never hurt my own brother." Walking back towards Sam, the disturbed young man pulled a handkerchief between his hands, stretching it out.

"Come on, Robbie, don't do this!"

Robbie ignored Sam and walked behind him. Sam struggled in his chair to try to get away from Robbie, but to no avail. The ropes were holding him firmly in place. "Don't make me knock you out again, Sam. I'm pretty sure another blow to the head wouldn't be good for you."

Sam grunted in pain and annoyance as the handkerchief was stuffed into his mouth and tied tightly. "Now, I know I said you could scream all you want, but I can't take the chance of someone hearing you. You know what a hotspot this place has been lately." Robbie stepped back and smiled at Sam as the psychic glared at him.

"I'll come back and check on you later, Sam." Robbie walked to where he left his bag and picked up the knife. "I'll just take this with me. I'd hate for you to get any ideas while I'm gone." He reached down to the ground and pulled up a small lantern, which he placed on the table. "Just to show you that I'm not completely heartless, I'll leave this with you. I know how scary it can get here during the night."

Sam continued to glare, eyes sharpening to slits.

Robbie turned the lantern on and gave Sam a small wave. "I'll give Dean my regards for you."

Sam struggled in vain as Robbie strolled out of the room, whistling softly. Sam heard the click of a lock as the door closed behind Robbie, leaving the hunter alone.

The younger Winchester's frustrated screams went unheard.

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