I would die if I owned Sam and Dean Winchester o-o (mainly Sam XD)
But, sadly I do not...*lesigh*
Anyways...hope you enjoy this! I'll do my best to keep it updated...but not guaranteeing it due to college life ^^;
This takes place directly after the season 3 ep "Sin City"
Supernatural: (C) Erik Kripke!
It had been almost two months since Sam Winchester had gotten a decent night's sleep. He was beyond exausted. Bobby had tried to convince him to head back to the hotel to get some shut eye, that he'd call him with any updates, but Sam denied his offer and spent the next few weeks living off of two hour intervals of sleep and coffee. Besides, who could sleep, knowing that your brother had been kidnapped by a nasty bunch of demons during his turn on getting dinner. And all of them were severly wanting revenge on the one that had killed their leader, Azazel. Any moment Sam didn't spend desperately looking for clues and signs meant another moment of agonizing torture and horror he was sure the demons had been lashing out at Dean with. One thing was for sure though: those demons were going back to Hell once Sam was through with them. None would be spared.
"Bobby...have you gotten anything yet?" asked a caffinated Sam for at least the thousandth time that day. By this time, Bobby was very close to tying him up and gagging him and throwing him into the next room so he could work. But he couldn't blame Sam for being deathly worried.
Dean was his big brother, as well as the only family he had left. It was Dean who had looked after Sam when they were just kids while their father, John, had went off hunting werewolves, shape-shifters, vampires, wendigos, rawheads, and basically any other monster and creature that was thought to only exist in nightmares. It was Dean who had protected Sam from those things, even taking nasty blows that were meant for him. It had also been Dean who had pulled Sam out of a burning house, not once, but twice. Sam wanted Dean to stop risking his life for him, that it would get him killed one of these days. But it was like telling a 20 year smoker that they had to quit immediately or they'd get lung cancer.
But Dean would never stop. It was his duty to protect his little brother. And there would be nothing or no one to make him think otherwise. Now because of his devotion to Sam, he had just a year to live after selling his soul to have the Crossroads Demon bring him back from the grasps of Death. So it was Sam's turn to save Dean. Right after he rescued him from those damn demons.
Bobby sighed, irritated. "Boy, I keep telling you, I will let you know if I find anything that will help us locate Dean! Now quit your bellyaching and keep researching."
Sam slammed the book he had been pouring over for the past three hours shut with so much force, it shook the entire table it had been sitting on.
"I'm tired of researching, Bobby," he yelled, "I need to get out there and actually look for Dean! Those demons probably have him bleeding his lungs out by now." Hot tears welled up in his eyes, making them sting. He wiped them away furiously. "He could be dead." Those last words were said in a breathless whisper.
Bobby's face softened and he stood up, approaching the young hunter and embracing him in a comforting hug. Sam returned the hug, sobbing into the crook of Bobby's neck.
"Don't worry, Sam. We will find that idjit brother of yours and make sure those demons get what's coming for them. You can bet on it! But right now, till we get a lead, we have to prepare. These demons are nasty sons of bitches and we can't risk letting things get out of hand or anyone else getting hurt."
"I know, Bobby," Sam sniffed, "I'm sorry. I'm just really worried about Dean. His one year limit has just begun. This isn't fair to him. But you're right. We can't go in, guns blazing. We need to find out where they had taken him and come up with a plan."
"Now your making sense, boy." Bobby smiled, slowly pulling Sam back, clapping him on the shoulder. He gave him a slight shake before returning to his desk.
Sam took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and ran his fingers through his unwashed long hair. He smiled, remembering Dean's half-hearted threats about cutting it all off while he slept. Sam had pretending to be afraid before both broke out into guffaws that lasted for about ten minutes. It had been one of the few very rare moments when the brothers had no hunts and were able to relax, not having to worry about saving lives or burning any bones. Those were the times they cherished most.
His happy thoughts were abruptly interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He practically raced into the living room where he had thrown his phone carelessly onto the couch after spending long hours calling and calling Dean's phone, hoping for him to pick up, with no such luck. But now someone was calling him. He desperately hoped that it was Dean, that he was calling to tell him that he was 'fine' and to come pick his sorry ass up.
His heart hammered in his chest as his fingers fumbled to grasp the ringing device, his hopes sky rocketing upon seeing the caller ID read 'Dean'.
"Dean?" he blurted the moment he hit the 'talk' button.
"Sorry, but Dean can't come to the phone right now," the heartless, mocking voice of a demon sneered from the other line, making Sam's heart plummet. He felt his anger rise. His body trembled.
"You sonovabitch," Sam growled, "what have you done to him?"
Bobby stood up, hearing this but Sam held up a hand, making him sit back down.
"Oh," the demon cackled, "you really don't wanna know. It's bad."
"And I bet you've enjoyed every damn moment," Sam's voice cracked as he tried to keep his rising rage under check.
"Nah...I wasn't even part of the torture party. I was on look-out duty, keeping an eye out in case you had decided to come to play cavalry."
Sam smirked. "Well, I'm not as dumb as you think."
"Yes...you proved me wrong. Maybe you will make a great leader for us. You definitely have the potential."
Sam froze. He had forgotten about Azazel's plan on using him to lead an army of demons to wreak havoc upon the world. But he wasn't giving in so easily.
"Yeah, well forget it, fugly," Sam snapped, using Dean's nickname for most monsters. "But I'm not giving in so easily."
"Really...is that a fact?" the demon asked with fake curiosity.
"Yes." Sam spat.
"Well, will you feel the same way after your brother is dead?"
Sam's heart skipped two beats as he heard small crackles as the phone was being moved. The next sound he heard made him want to burst out into tears again.
It was Dean's voice! Sam hadn't heard it for one and a half-months and he almost fainted on the spot upon hearing it. But the fact that it was basically a pained whimper caused Sam to just fall back onto the couch in shock. This time, Bobby got up and hurried into the room, a look of worry flashing across his grey-bearded face.
"Dean?" Sam asked, swallowing back a sob that lodged in his throat. "Dean! Are you alright?" Stupid, of course he's not alright! "What have they done to you?" Probably every damn torture method that ever existed, plus more.
"S'mmy...s'op talking," Dean's voice wheezed. "G'vn me head'che." Sam could practically hear blood gurgling with each breath his brother took.
"Sorry, man," Sam replied, more softly, but still keeping his voice strong. "Don't worry, Bobby and I will find you! And we'll be sure those freaks are sent back to where they belong!"
"..." No answer. Sam didn't like the sound of that.
"Dean? Dean! Are you there?" Sam gasped as he heard the familiar thud of a body being thrown to the ground. It was faint over the phone, but Sam still knew what it was. The Winchester's line of work was no walk in the park. His blood was boiling by now.
"Leave him alone, you bastard!" he screamed, making Bobby jump. "If you touch him again, I swear I'll..."
"Yeah, yeah," the demon cut him off sharply. "I heard your lame-ass threat. And truthfully, I'm not afraid. I say bring it."
"Alright, it's your funeral," Sam growled.
"And if you're hoping to rescue Dean, I'm afraid his time is just about up. You better hurry."
A dial tone sounded, signaling the end of the call. Sam let his phone drop out of his limp hands and onto his lap. His face was frozen in a mix of horror and anger. Bobby quickly moved to sit beside him.
"Sam, what's wrong? What did the demon say? What did Dean say?"
"He's hurt, Bobby," Sam said solemnly, "badly. Those bastards practically killed him."
Bobby's jaw dropped. "Sam...I-I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."
"It's okay, Bobby," Sam smiled, puzzling the older hunter. "Those demons aren't as smart as they thought they were."
"What do you mean?"
"They spent all this time trying to keep us off their trail, but apparently forgot that I could use the GPS in Dean's phone to track him down to where they're keeping him."
Bobby mirrored Sam's grin. "Those damn idjits."
"But we have to hurry. They said Dean's time is almost out."
"Working under pressure and under a time limit is what we're best at, Sam." Bobby winked at him. "Don't worry."
"Every time you tell me that, I worry more." Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "But I have to be strong...for Dean. If the situation was reversed and I had been the one who was taken, Dean would literally be tearing the world apart, looking for me."
"I know son, and the devotion you two have each other is exactly what makes you boys the strongest hunters I have ever known and worked with. Even more so than your father." Bobby patted his knee.
"Thanks, Bobby," Sam nodded, "and you know, you're the closest thing we've had to a father."
"Yeah, I know, kiddo. Now, let's stop having a chick-flick moment and go get that idjit brother of yours! He'd be really ticked to know that he died while we were having a heart-to-heart!"