What goes around comes around.

Summary. . . . . Dean's taken, but by whom? Blindfolded, tied and beaten why won't anybody talk to him? And just what has happened to Sam? Dean whumpage, hurt and angst Sam to follow. Set after season two, but no spoilers. Rated K+

Disclaimer. . . . Still only loaning the boy's to hurt them a little. Any mistakes are my own though!

A.N. . . . . I'm so very sorry about the wait for this chapter; I had a small case of writers block. As always thanks for reading.

Also a massive thank you to Darksupernatural, who has been my little kick up the backside, encouraging me to go on when my muse went on strike.

Dean, once he knew that Gordon was dead, left the room. He walked up the stairs, to where Sam lay, feeling broken and bone tired, a sudden longing to see his younger brother overwhelming him. Standing in the doorway, tears that he had been holding back suddenly broke free. He really was tired of hunting and for the first time in his life the apple pie, normal life that Sam had been so desperate to achieve didn't sound so offensive.

He hurriedly brushed at his tear stained cheeks as Bobby looked over at him. Who was he trying to kid, this was their life, it was all they had ever known and all they would ever know. Coughing to clear the blockage from his throat the tears had caused, he spoke quietly to the older hunter.

"Sam still out of it?"

"Yeah, he woke briefly before, but just fell straight back asleep, must have been the sedative that I slipped in with his pain meds. Gordon dealt with?"

Dean just nodded, refusing to look at Bobby, instead sitting down once more on the edge of Sam's bed and focusing on his younger brother, Sam automatically curling as best he could around his brother's form.

"You okay?" Bobby asked.

Dean couldn't help the sneering laughter that came out, it was such a small question but had many different contexts, which one did Bobby want answering? Was he okay in himself? Was he okay that Sam, and hell even himself, were beaten so badly? Was he okay that he had just killed a man?

"Yes. . . . No. . . . I don't know!" He finally answered.

Bobby coughed and rubbed his hand over his beard covered chin. "You wanna talk about it?" He asked around a small cough.

Dean just looked incredulously at him, no answer needed but one given anyway. "I'm fine Bobby, you must have been sat here too long you're beginning to sound like Sam."

"Yeah, guess so, it's not something you would normally hear from me." Bobby thought for a minute before adding. "I mean it though Dean, the offer stands, I'm here if you wanna. You want something to eat?" The older hunter hastily stuck on the end.

"Nah, I'm good. Do you think Sam will be okay to move? I really want to get out of this place."

"He should be fine. His back and knee will be painful for him, but if we dose him full of meds he should be okay. Where do you wanna go?"

"Well, I was kinda hoping that you wouldn't mind a couple of house guests." Dean sheepishly asked.

"Well I don't know about you but Sam there, he's always welcome." Bobby was glad to see a small ghost of a smile grace Dean's face in response to his banter. "I was kinda hoping you'd ask, Dean your always welcome, both of you. When do you want to leave?"

"Joshua's gonna handle the other dude and he'll make sure that they're dealt with properly, so as soon as I can get Sam up we'll load him in the back of the Impala, then follow. . . . . . What's with the face, Bobby? Do you think that it's too soon for Sam?"

Bobby didn't answer, just allowed Dean to remember on his own, which didn't take long. A look of pure horror, second only to the one he had upon seeing Sam, crossed his face.

"Bobby, where's my car? Please tell me you found her? Tell me she's okay?"

Bobby started to laugh. "She's fine Dean and she'll be waiting for you back at the yard, but this means that we'll have to wait for Josh to finish here. His truck will be better to move Sam in and it's back in town. We'll have to go pick it up in the morning. You okay staying the night?"

"Yeah, I didn't really want to wake Sam up anyway, not while he's sleeping without any nightmares, you know that's not going to last much longer."

"Okay, I gonna get some dinner cooked and check on Josh. Get some rest Dean; you look about ready to drop."

With that Bobby left the room, leaving Dean to keep his vigil at Sam's bed side. Awkwardly taking Sam's hand in his good one he sat for a while before he whispered to his unresponsive audience.

"Hey Sammy, Gordon's dealt with, he'll never hurt you again. I'm sorry that I allowed him to in the first place. I should have been there to stop him. I wish I knew how to help you through this, I don't think that me being here will be enough though, but I don't know what else to do. Hell Sam, I don't even know exactly what he did to you. He told me some and I can guess some more, but I hope that you feel that you can tell me the rest. Knowing how stubborn you are though, I don't think that you will."

Dean stopped briefly and wiped at the tears that had started falling again. Moving his hand up to Sam's head, he gently pushed his unruly hair out of his eyes, leaning over did something he hadn't done in a very long time and softly kissed his brother's forehead. "Rest well Sam, I'll be here when you wake up."

Not wanting to leave Sam, not even to go to the other bed, Dean sat himself on the floor and resting his head near Sam's stomach he took his brother's hand once more and promptly fell asleep. Missing Sam's eyes opening and the whispered words he softly spoke.

"I'm sorry Dean. I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself. You deserve a better brother than me."

Sam brought his other hand up to place on Dean's head, hesitating before he did so and deciding against it. Instead he placed his arm across his eyes, tears slowly flowing, slight tremors working their way through his extremities, quiet sobs barely heard.

Bobby heard them though and all the words the youngest Winchester had uttered. Standing unobserved and quiet outside the room he had stopped himself from entering when he had heard dean talking, just catching the end of his speech. He stopped again when he had heard Sam start talking, this was worse than he thought, both brothers' were broken and Bobby was worried that Dean might be right, that this couldn't be fixed.

He turned from the wall and stood in the doorway, watching as the two Winchester's slept, wondering to himself just when it was that the boys had become more than just fellow hunters to him. He heard Joshua come up the stairs but still kept looking at the two Winchester's.

"Everything okay Bobby? The guy's okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, they're fine. . . . . . . Awww hell, who the hell am I trying to kid? No, I'm not fine and neither are those two boys! If I could raise that idjit piece of crap from the dead just to kill him again, I would do! I just hope that Dean's strong enough to bring Sam back from this one, cause if he can't, Gordon will have won." Pausing, Bobby finally turned back towards Joshua. "You deal with the other one?"

"Yeah, knew we were pushed for time so I kinda went easy on him and didn't draw it out too long. I'm gonna get the truck take them a bit further into the woods and finish them off. When are we heading off?"

"I'll wake Dean when you get back and we'll go and get your truck. Dean will get Sam ready for when we get back."

The trip to Bobby's, after he and Josh had returned with both trucks, had been uneventful, Sam and Dean both sleeping the whole way there, all be it Sam's sleep drug induced once more. Dean had fallen into a routine during the week that had followed, keeping an eye on Sam, checking his wounds, trying to get him to open up, whilst at the same time trying to get him self back to full fitness.

A quick trip to the hospital had resulted in his wrist being cast properly and he was now slowly on the mend. He just wished he could say the same for Sam. Sam seemed to be getting worse each day. He refused to leave the room, barely ate, and he had lost that natural healthy tan he normally carried, his pallor now stark white, unhealed bruises and dark circles the only color showing on his skin.

Dean had also figured out that Sam wasn't sleeping at all. He would wait pretending to be asleep until Dean would crash before sitting up, curling in on himself, sobbing and rocking quietly. Dean had caught him out two nights previous and had spent the rest of that night and all of last night trying even harder to get through to his brother, trying to get him to say what exactly Gordon had done, so far though Sam had continued to reveal nothing, choosing instead to shut Dean out all the more.

Dean though was undeterred. Asking Bobby to make him self scarce for a while, Dean decided that today Sam would talk; today Sam would start on his long road back. After watching the older man leave the house to do some work in the yard, Dean walked upstairs, a cup of coffee in both hands, and into their room. Sam as always was curled up on his side, feigning sleep.

"Sam, I know that you're awake. We need to talk." He placed the two cups on the night stand and turned back hoping for some sort of response. At not receiving any he carried on. "Sam, come on we can't keep avoiding the subject."

That got a response from Sam, but not the kind Dean was hoping for. A mocking sneer formed on his brother's face, a bitter laugh escaping his mouth. "Isn't that the Winchester way? Hide feelings, avoid talking at all costs? Suck it up and move on?"

Dean sat on the edge of Sam's bed. "Maybe at one time, but things change Sam, plus I know that you need to talk things through and I need to know what happened."

"You don't know what I need Dean." Sam spat out. "And what difference will it make if you know what happened? Do you and Bobby want to gloat over the fact that I fucked up yet again? That I'm yet again the weak link? That I let Gordon get the better of me and use me?"

"Sammy, it's not like that. . . . . "

"It's Sam!"

"Okay, Sam. You know me, you know Bobby, and you know we wouldn't do that. We want you to talk to us so that you can move on, get back to normal, so the nightmares will stop."

"Normal? When will our lives ever be normal? When have they ever been? There will always be nightmares, Dean. There will always be someone out there like Gordon, someone chasing me. I told Gordon I was normal and do you know what he did? What he said? . . . . "

"No, Sam I don't, because you won't tell me!" Dean's frustration came out in his tone. He tried to calm him self before he spoke again. "Sam talk to me, tell me what happened."


"Sam, please?"

"I can't Dean."

"You can't or you won't?"

"I can't Dean. Don't you get it? I want to forget, I don't want to remember. I want to forget the beatings, the feelings of hunger and thirst, of being so cold, of the desperate need for the drugs, of hurting you. I just want to forget it all."

"But if you don't talk about it Sam, you never will forget."

"Don't Dean."

"Don't what?"

"Just don't. Please just drop it."

"I can't Sam. I hate seeing you like this; it hurts me way more than what Gordon put me through. I just want to help you."

"You can't Dean. This isn't something that you can fix for me."

"Let me try."

"You can't."

Sam's tone changing should have been a warning to Dean, but he pushed anyway. "Why?"


"Because why?" When Sam didn't answer, Dean pushed again. "Sam?"

Sam broke, his anger now flooding through. "Because I don't want you to. Because I want to feel this way. Because I deserve to feel this way!" Sam shouted out. "I hate myself for being so weak. I hate myself for what I did to you. At times I wish Gordon had succeeded in his plan to kill me, at least then I wouldn't have to feel this much pain."

"Sam, it wasn't you, please believe me. If you had of been in your right frame of mind you would never have done what you did. It was Gordon and the drugs. I didn't blame you then and I don't blame you now. Please Sam; please just let me help you."

"Don't ask me to remember Dean, please." Sam's tone now filled with despair.

"Sam you have to otherwise it will eat away at you even more. Please just tell me what happened."

"No!" Sam cried out almost pleading now.

"Sam please, tell me."

Again Sam wouldn't answer. Dean moved slightly attempting to get up, feeling that Sam had shut off once again. Sam's hand grabbing his though stilled him.

"You really want to know? I'll show you." He whispered his voice now a mixture of hurt, guilt, anger, frustration and doubt.

Opening his mind, but closing off the part that projected actual physical pain, he showed Dean everything that had happened to him. The beatings, the brainwashing, the drugs, the whipping all were repeated in glorious Technicolor in Dean's mind. He could feel Sam's doubts about his own future, his fears for Sam's safety, his anger and guilt when Gordon told him Dean was dead, his need for the drugs so that they would deaden the pain, if only for a while, his wishes for the hunter to end all his pain, his own thoughts of dying when he realized what he had done, his anger that forced him to use his new power on Gordon, his fears that after doing so he would be seen once more as a freak, his shame at having to face Dean, his fears of rejection.

"You see why I couldn't, didn't want to tell you? I knew you would hate me." Sam whispered out when he had finished, desperately trying to stay conscious, the use of his abilities and the pressure of keeping all the physical pain inside himself, taking everything out of him.

"Sam, I don't hate you. I could never hate you. You're all I have left and I refuse to lose you. I forgave you back at the house Sam, it wasn't you. You have to start forgiving your self now. If it had of been me in your place, wouldn't you ask me to do the same? Wouldn't you want me to talk to you, to forgive myself?"

Sam couldn't argue, Dean was right he would. He nodded weakly.

"Good, then please start forgiving your self because I really need you by my side, little brother. I don't think I would want to, or could, carry on if you weren't there. I love you Sam." The tears came once more as Dean said those words, words he normally had such a hard time expressing.

"I love you too, Dean. I'm so sorry that I hurt you."

Dean pushed Sam's bangs back again. "I know Sam. Listen you look beat, get some sleep before you pass out. I'll stay here and wake you if the nightmares come. We can talk more later, after we've gotten you something to eat."

"I'm so sorry Dean." Sam sleepily repeated.

"I know Sam, I am too."

Sam's eyes slipped closed and within seconds he was sound asleep. Dean stayed as promised, watching Sam for any signs of unrest, thinking over in his head what had happened. This new ability of Sam's did freak him out a bit, but like the visions he knew that he could accept it. He remembered when Sam had used his ability on Gordon, how much pain the man had been in and yet he had felt nothing. Sure he had felt Sam's feelings, but when he had watched Sam get beaten and whipped he had felt no pain. Not one bit. Was this an ability that Sam could control? Dean could only wonder.

He thought too about the future and what it would bring, for the first time since Gordon though this was something that he no longer worried about. He had Sam by his side and that as far as he was concerned was all that mattered. Sam would recover from this, he was sure of that now. So to Dean the future looked bright. Very bright indeed.

A.N. . . . . . Well as you can guess that was the last chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it? Thank you so very much for all the support you have given me on this fic, it truly has been awesome. Hope to catch you soon with a new fic, Peanut x