I would like to thank all of you who took the time to review. Your comments mean so much to me, they make me happy and they also tell me that some of you are still interested in the story. So, yeah, keep them coming please.


This chapter is (very much) unedited. I didn't even spell-check it. I'm not sure when I will though. So, I apologize in advance for all the mistakes. Remember that english is my second language and each sentence is a struggle for me.



"Welcome aboard, boy!"

Sam could feel the captain's breath against his skin, coated with the smell of liqueur and tobacco. He was yanked by his shackled hands and pulled roughly forward. Sam staggered, but kept pace as the slightly larger man led him forward.

Dean felt his skin crawl with worry. He took yet another step forward.

The Captain stopped shortly and whirled motioning around them, "Now, see this place? It's all under my control. And these men? They're all my slaves."

Sam screwed his eyes at the man.

"Son, this is how it's going to be: from this point forward, you belong to me. You are my very personal slave. You do everything I ask, and you don't do anything else. You don't sneeze without my permission. You got that?" The captain stopped and waited for Sam's reply with raised eyebrows.

Sam chose not to answer. He just kept glaring at the man.

The Captain's hand suddenly flew to grab Sam's hair and turn his head toward the crowd of watching prisoners. Sam winced slightly but kept his lips pursed, until the man fixed his face in the direction of Dean. Sam swallowed as he could see the worry itched on every corner of his elder brother's face.

"Now, see your brother down there?" The captain yanked Sam's hair harder, and Sam nodded with a painful hiss after unsuccessfully trying to wiggle free of the man's grasp.

"You'll be working together most of the time, but listen carefully," the man's grip tightened even more, "I don't want you to speak to him, touch him, or even glance his way. Not a word his direction. If I see you two contacting each other in anyway," the captain paused slightly for effect, "I will kill him – I'll chop his head off and you get to watch."

Sam froze, and slowly but surely panic and fear crawled their way into his features. The captain smiled, "That's beside the pain I'll inflict on you of course. Is that understood?"

"You bastard," Dean hissed under his breath. Luckily, no one seemed to hear his comment.

"IS that understood?" The captain demanded again, and this time Sam nodded under his grip. Satisfied, the captain let go of him with a hard push and Sam barely managed to stop himself from tumbling to the ground unceremoniously.

"Get back to work everyone," the captain barked, and as on cue everyone went back to business. Dean was glued in his spot, his gaze never leaving his brother, until Daemon pulled him away almost forcefully.

The Captain then turned to Sam, "You go and do what they're doing. Be a good boy now, I'll be back shortly. And remember, I might not be here, but I have eyes everywhere. You keep that in mind and we will get along just fine."

Sam squinted at him, but wisely remained silent.


As they worked, Dean's eyes almost never left Sam. Sam tried not to look at his brother. He feared that looking was another sort of communication which deserved punishment. The last thing he wanted was for Dean to get hurt.

Dean kept trying to catch Sam's attention, to reassure him that everything was going to be okay, but Sam refused to meet his eyes and kept digging without raising his eyes from the ground.

After what seemed like eternity to Sam, a whistle rang through the air. At the signal, all prisoners dropped their shovels and walked away. Sam blinked, confused, until someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"It's lunch time."

Sam nodded grimly and walked along with the crowd to where prisoners were being served their meals – a plate of a steamy stuff scooped from a large pot. Everyone grabbed an empty plate and took a turn-forming a line. Sam watched Dean do the same and he followed suit.

After his plate was filled, Sam walked away, trying to ignore everyone else, especially Dean. He sat on a solitary rock, and took a spoonful of the hot broth. It was not the best but it felt good to his starving tummy. Before he could take another sip however, the plate was suddenly knocked out of his hands by large hands. Sam flinched as the plate hit the ground with a clang and the content spilled on the floor.

He did nothing but blink at the spilled food, he didn't even raise his head to see who was the assailant. He was too tired to do anything but stare.

But obviously his response or lack of one enraged his attacker, for the next second, Sam felt large hands go around his neck and squeeze, forcing him to his feet.

Sam gasped, his fingers instinctively going up, trying to ward the alien hands off.

"Didn't I make myself clear?"

Sam made a choking sound as his eyes locked with the captain's cold ones.

"Didn't I say, you were not supposed to do a thing without my permission?" the captain barked, insane anger flaring his eyes.

Sam tried to respond, but all that came out was a gasp followed by a pathetic wheeze. He decided to concentrate on getting as much amount of air into his lungs as possible.

"Didn't I?" the hands squeezed tighter and Sam felt his world go gray.

"Let him GO!"

When Dean first saw the scene – saw the man's hands on his brother's neck, he felt anger and rage taking control of him, and stormed to his brother's aid, totally intending to get the man off his brother and strangle him with his own hands. "Let him GO!"

But before he could get close enough two prisoners held him back, holding him by the arms and pushing him backward.

Dean struggled against them like a possessed being, but one of them leaned close and whispered in his ears, "Listen Kid, you go there and you'll only make it worse for your yourself and your brother. Don't worry, he won't kill him. You heard what they told him, they want your brother alive. He's too important to them, so he won't kill him, but whatever plan he has in store for him, your interference will only make it worse, believe me."

Dean breathed, his fists clenching and unclenching in an attempt to control his temper. When he regained some amount of control, he lifted his head and stared at the old man with intense eyes looking directly at him. The man's words made sense but Dean wasn't sure he could take it anymore. "I can't just stand here and do nothing," Dean shook his head as his attention was once again drawn to his brother, "He's my brother."

The grip loosened, but the Captain did not let go of Sam just yet. Sam gratefully gulped in all the air he could muster, his eyes closing in exhaustion.

He was jolted into opening his eyes with a rude shake. Sam blinked and struggled through the momentarily fog clouding his mind to focus on the angry face looming in front of his face.

"You're not listening," the captain spat, "I didn't say it was okay for you to go to sleep, boy! And I didn't say it was okay for you to eat yet, did I?"

Sam swallowed, his mind a little clearer now and his senses are back. All he wanted at that moment was for the man to disappear from his face.

"I'm sorry," Sam muttered tiredly.

"What was that?"

Massaging his raw neck, Sam sighed, closed his eyes then snapped back open after remembering he shouldn't. "I'm sorry."

That earned him a full release, and Sam barely managed to keep standing after the captain let go of him.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Sam was confused, but then a menacing scowl from the man, gave him a clue to the right answer, "Sorry, sir."

"That's better," the Captain smiled at him, pleased. He turned around and instantly caught Dean's burning gaze. His smile widened.

He turned back to Sam, "On other thought, I don't think I should let your first mistakes go that easily."

Two guards, seemingly appearing from nowhere, grabbed hold of Sam.

"But I - "

A thunderous blow was suddenly delivered to his stomach, effectively silencing him. When Sam recovered from the hit, he didn't say a word. He just waited.

Another punch followed the last and Sam was forced to gasp for air. That really hurt! He looked up at the man and blurted the exact words on his mind at that moment, "You know, I really don't like you."

That remark earned him several more hits, one right after the other.


Sam eventually lost track of how many times he'd been hit. He'd stopped thinking entirely, but the blows continued.

Slumping against his restrainers, Sam just allowed the punches to fall. He was on verge of passing out.

The Captain drew his hand back to deliver yet another blow, but seemed to change his mind. "I think you had enough."

The assault stopped and Sam leaned his head back, taking deep breaths and trying to find the right way to deal with the pain. It was finally over.

He sagged and would have collapsed if not for the strong arms holding him.

The Captain stretched his muscles, "Let him rest for a couple of hours then it's back to work."

"What if he's hurt bad, Captain?"

The captain snorted, "I don't think I broke anything, but check him out just in case."

Sam was then led away and deposited at a far corner. He lay where they dropped him, his hands going around his chest protectively.

Dean watched from distance, tears of anger and desperation burned his eyes and threatened to fall, but somehow he managed to hold them back. 'They're going to pay... every single one of them! He'll make sure of it,' Dean vowed.

As he walked away, the captain felt Dean's murderous gaze burn his back and merely smiled at the sensation.


During the next three days, the brothers never spoke to each other. There were few glances and brief reassured smiles but nothing more. Both were afraid of the consequences.

Both had managed to mingle with the other prisoners, but asking questions never got them anywhere. Two sayings kept being repeated over and over: Escape is impossible and the captain's spies are everywhere. He knows everything, and no one escapes his wrath.

On the break time of the third day, Sam requested permission to eat, took his lunch and like the days before ate alone. For some reason the captain wanted him alone most of the time. Even at night, he was not allowed to share a room with the other prisoners like Dean, but instead he was taken to a room near the captain's own chamber.

Sam ate in silence as he scanned his surroundings with uninterested eyes. His attention was suddenly pulled toward a black large built man who obviously had been punished into working extra time, and when he requested his lunch he was told the food was finished. The man walked away without a word of complain. Sam watched him until he settled on a faraway rock by himself, before getting to his feet and joining him.

The man glanced at Sam wearily as the young hunter sat down with a friendly smile.

"You hungry?" Sam offered his plate, the smile still on his lips, "we can share."

The man glared at him for a long moment before shaking his head, getting up and leaving.

"He doesn't speak much," one of the prisoners told Sam. When Sam asked about his name, the prisoner shrugged, "Sixty four," and at Sam's baffled expression, the man added, "It's the only name he's known by. He's been here for about seven years. Been sold once and returned."


The next day something happened, that changed the Winchester's bad luck for the worse.

Sam had walked late into a commotion, and noticed the prisoners all watching something. He followed their lead and saw that the guards were holding 'Sixty four' down, the captain standing above him and a pot of what seemed to be boiling water was placed near them.

Sam's heart thudded painfully against his chest as the realization of what was about to happen hit him.

The man was forced flat on his stomach, his bare scarred back exposed and open to the assault. And Sam knew he couldn't just stand there and watch.

He stumbled into the circle of guards, just as they were about to pour the boiling water over the man's back.

"No, stop. What did he do to deserve this?" Sam demanded, looking the captain square in the eyes.

The captain seemed surprised for a second before his expression changed to amusement. "Is that so?"

Sam looked angry, "You can't do this to him!"

"Are you willing to take his place?" the captain asked him simply.

Sam blinked surprised by the sudden question.

"Well?" the captain demanded, glaring dangerously at Sam.

Sam swallowed, turned to the man on the floor who regarded him with an 'Are you crazy?' look, then nodded, "I am."

"Well, well," the captain seemed to think for a moment before turning to the crowd of prisoners, "Anyone else likes to take his place?"

"I do."

Sam cringed at the familiar voice of his brother. "Dean, don't." But he was only met by Dean's defiant look.

The captain looked at all three people now before him. "Very well."

The captain snapped his fingers, and the guards seemed to move on cue. Sam blinked, confused but before he could as much as move a muscle, his arm was gripped and he was pulled away.


Sam blearily registered what was happening as he was led away. Half distance, he heard two blood-curdling screams breaking the utter stillness of the air.

Sam's knees buckled as he recognized one of them to belong to his brother. "God no, Dean!" He tried to turn but they wouldn't let him, and he was half dragged, half carried away while his brother's painful screams followed him.


Once pushed inside a lab-like room, he spotted a large needle out of the corner of his eye as the syringe was being filled. Then a strong hand was placed on top of his head, holding him securely. Another one held his naked arm out.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice demanding an answer.

He was held more firmly. "Be still."

Sam didn't so much as blink as a slight pressure was applied to his arm. He winced ever so slightly as the needle finally pierced his skin. Then it was slowly pushed deeper. He tensed but managed to keep still.

After what seemed an eternity, the needle was pulled back out, and his head was released. That's when the tingle started. It increased to a strange warmth which steadily progressed throughout his body. The heat was accompanied by weird numbness.

"It only takes few shots of this drug to get addicted," Sam heard the voice which seemed to be coming from far away, "I didn't want to have to resort to this but you forced me. After two shots, you'll be begging me for more. Enjoy the ride, hero."

The voice seemed to drift away so was his awareness. Sam's head fell forward, his eyes rolled back and he passed out with a content sigh.