Author's Note: As always, thank you so much for everyone who has taken the time to read and more thanks to the ones who have been reviewing. I really appreciate hearing what you have to say. All of your words and thoughts really help and inspire me to keep writing each and every chapter for you guys.

Warning: Torture scenes (flashbacks)


Chapter Nine:


They had fallen asleep right there on the tile ground. John, still on his knees with Sam slumped in his arms, his head still buried in the bow of his neck. John's hands were wrapped around Sam firmly, keeping him securely in place. Eventually, Sam had quieted. They were sure of the exact time when, but he had cried for what seemed like hours. But it couldn't have been... could it? But Dean felt each and every minute of it. All the pain Sam felt , he felt it too. All the memories that suddenly came crashing back to him, Dean remembered it, too. And all the sickness in his stomach that caused his muscles to tighten, causing more agony than anything.. Dean felt that, too. All he wanted to do was take the pain away from Sam. He wanted to make everything alright. But he couldn't. There was literally nothing Dean could do.

But he sat there now in the same position he had sat in then. He felt something that he'd never felt before, though. As he sat there at the edge of the tub, his hands folded, with his chin resting on them, he sat and watched his father and brother. Sam had finally calmed down, John's arms still sheltering him. They had both gone quiet and now Dean was unsure of what he should do. He didn't want to just leave them there, but by the slackness of Sam's body and his slow, even breathing told Dean that he was no longer in pain. And that, was something Dean wanted to keep. He didn't want Sam to suffer anymore.

Pushing past his instincts, he stood. Dean walked to the middle of the bathroom floor where his father and brother were. Reaching out with one hand he shook his father's shoulder. The side of his face was buried in Sam's hair and Dean saw him twitch a little at the touch. Dean shook his shoulder again. Slowly, John's head raised and he looked up at Dean, his eyes were blurry.

"You fell asleep," Dean says softly, gesturing with his head to Sam in his father's arms. John looked down at his son, then up at his other, then smiled.

John let his hand fall in Sam's hair, petting it softly.

"At least he's calm," John says with a slight shrug.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, the only upside to this whole little episode."

Again John takes a look at Sam. There's still as pained look on his face, even when he's a sleep. His hands are still gripping tight to the sides of John's shirt, like he's afraid to let go. He used to do that when he was younger. John motioned with his head.

"Take him."

Dean didn't move. "He's gonna wake up-"

John didn't have to answer. Dean knew he should just do what he was told, it was easier.

He walked behind Sam, but stopped short as he waited for his dad to loosen Sam's fingers on his shirt. John nodded at him, pushing Sam's weight back and into Dean's arms. Dean fixed his grip, steadied himself, then stood up straight. Sam's head fell in his shoulder and his arm hung, swaying at his side. Dean began to walk, slightly amazed that Sam hadn't woken up yet. The last time he was able to pick Sam up without him waking was when he was about three or four. So at this, Dean wasn't sure if he would he happy that he stayed asleep or worried that all this movement didn't pull him away from his slumber.

John took a while to get back to his feet. Under Sam's weight, his legs had fallen asleep, leaving only a tingling sensation running through them. John ran his hands down his legs until the feeling and nerves came back.

Outside the bathroom, Dean had taken Sam to the bed and lay him gently in the middle of it, pulling the thin sheets over him.

Then, John finally exited the bathroom.

"He still asleep?"

Even though he knew the answer, Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam then back at his father. "Didn't move a muscle."

John nodded, then gestured to the table in the kitchen area.

"C'mere, son. We need to talk."

-Mind's Eye-

"I refuse to believe Bobby did this," John began, his hands planted firmly on the table.

Dean shrugged. "Sam couldn't lie about this-"

"I never said he was lying, but there's other options."

In the back of his mind, that thought had crossed, but he never had the time to say it a loud.

"Shape shifter?" Dean guess.

John nodded. "Possession's a possibility, too. Or... some freak accident."

Dean sat back. "There's no way that this was an accident. No one accidentally did this to Sam. You don't accidentally torture someone for a week, and especially not to the extent they went with Sam. You just don't."

The tone Dean had, John didn't like, but what he was saying was true. "Mind control or something?"

The younger Winchester didn't know what to think, so he shrugged.

"Anything's a possibility right now, I guess. We don't know what happened. Especially is Sam doesn't know... or isn't awake to tell us."

Both agreed. John stood.

"Either way, as soon as this storm lets up, we're going to pay a little visit to Bobby."


This was a little shorter than usual, but of course it's leading up to a lot of action.
Also, for those of you who didn't know, I've started a new story that I'm actually very pleased with. It's called, "Ignorance Is Bliss". So if you haven't checked that out already, please do. Love and support is always appreciated.

Please review!