"I have got to stop doing this." Sam Winchester thought to himself as he slowly drifted back to consciousness. His mind was fuzzy and he could feel the telltale throb on his right temple that meant blunt force trauma to the head. He pulled on his arms and legs in a futile hope that, this time, he was not tied down. No such luck. The movement only served to alert his captor that he was awake.

"Mwa-ha-ha," a nasal voice broke through his resignation. "I see you have awakened."

Sam did literally the only thing he could do in these circumstances; he began to channel Dean. "That's your evil laugh? Seriously? You weren't even laughing. I've heard better from the count on Sesame Street."

"I'm new to this evil villain...stuff. It's not my fault the other ones have had more time to practice." The man finally came into view above Sam. He looked rather innocuous. He was in average shape with average brown hair. He was wearing a brown t-shirt with the emblem of a hammer on the front and, were it not for the ridiculous black gloves, he would have passed for any other tool on the street.

"So what are you and what do you want?" Sam decided to cut to the chase.

"Don't think I didn't see you before. You were talking to my arch nemesis. I need to know what he is planning. Where will he strike next?" The man grabbed Sam's chin with bruising force. "What more does he plan to take from me?"

"Who is your arch nemesis?"

"Don't act like you don't know: Dr Horrible, the plague of the city, 2nd in command of the Evil League of Evil, answering to no one but Bad Horse himself." The man got up close and personal, globs of spit flying out of his mouth and landing on Sam's face.

"Ok, dude..."

"Captain Hammer," the man interjected.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Did Dean put you up to this? Because he is not going to be happy if you gave me a concussion."

"No one put me up to this! Stop stalling! What is Dr Horrible planning?" Captain Hammer picked up a pair of scissors from a nearby table and cut Sam's shirt off.

"I don't even know this Dr Horrible. What makes you think I know his plans?" Sam shivered, goosebumps covering his chest and arms.

"I saw you talking to him in the laundromat. I know your type. You have henchman written all over you." The man punched him in the jaw. "Now answer me!"

Sam took a second to recover from the sharp pain in his jaw. "I have no idea who you're talking about. I chatted for a while to a guy named Billy but it was mainly about frozen yogurt."

"You're lying. Billy is the name Dr Horrible uses when he wants to go unnoticed. Nobody else suspects but I know the truth. I know he is planning something dastardly. What more can he take from me? He already killed my girlfriend, Patty..." Captain Hammer stopped and thought for a moment. "No, Penny, that was her name. Then he blew up a gun in my hands. I was in pain! Real pain!"

"Look, I think this is all a big misunderstanding," Sam struggled not to laugh at the guy's histrionics. "I certainly was not planning anything with this Dr Horrible. You haven't really hurt me so as long as you drop me off about a block away from the motel and then run away fast, we should both come out of this relatively unscathed."

"I don't think so," Captain Hammer turned away for a moment. There was a sound of metal clinking. When he turned back, Sam's blood ran cold. "I think you're lying. I think Dr Horrible told you everything. Let's see how brave you are when you face the hammer."

Captain Hammer waved a handful of nails in Sam's face before setting them on his bare stomach. Sam flinched away from the cold metal. "The hammer used to be my penis but when Dr Horrible took my girlfriend away, I switched to a longer, harder hammer...one that hammers nails...not beautiful women...although I sometimes use my old hammer on beautiful women but I prefer to use this hammer on men."

Sam stared up at the rambling man. He didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or freak out. "You are insane!"

"Am I?" The man picked up one nail and set it, point down on Sam's bicep. "You can tell me everything now and you'll never have to know what this feels like."

Sam was seconds away from full blown panic. "I don't know anything! I swear I don't!"

Captain Hammer shrugged and drove the first nail in.

Sam screamed and fought his bonds. The pain was excruciating.

"I've gotten really good at this. I'm not trying to break your bones, just get the nail stuck in there good. You can feel it, can't you? It must be throbbing away. The next one will hurt worse." He picked up another nail and this time, with little taps instead of one big swing, he drove it into Sam's collarbone. "This one is a little tougher. This bone breaks so much easier."

Sam was nearly hyperventilating from the pain. "I mean it. I don't know anything."

"You know, the quality of henchmen has really gone up in the last year. It used to be that they would fold at the first sign of danger. You really will have to tell Billy congrats on his good taste when you see him next." Captain Hammer sighed and looked at Sam speculatively. "I may have to pull out the big guns." He sorted through the pile and pulled out a nail that was a good five inches long. "This is going to hurt an awful lot and you are going to want to scream and thrash around but you must resist. Oh, and try not to sneeze."

Sam panicked as the nail came closer to his face. He shook his head, trying to keep his captor from getting a good enough grip. Captain Hammer reacted swiftly, pricking his groin with the tip of the nail.

"I can always drive it in here instead," he threatened.

Sam froze instantly.

"Very good. Very wise," Captain Hammer crooner. "Now, try not to move. The bones are very fragile and I wouldn't want to shatter one. Who knows how much damage a few splinters could do?"

Sam held his breath as Captain Hammer gently pushed the nail up his right nostril. Tears instantly began streaming down his face. He wanted to choke and gag and sneeze and maybe pass out but he did none of those things as once again, his tormentor began tapping lightly with his hammer. Each brush of the nail brought a white hot bolt of agony through every part of his brain, accompanied by floods of tears.

"Are you ready to talk now?" Captain Hammer whispered.

Sam could hardly speak. "I don't know anything."

Captain Hammer looked disappointed. "I guess you really were nothing but an innocent bystander. Guess there is nothing left to do but send you back as a warning."

Sam was losing the battle for consciousness. Captain Hammer grabbed Sam's chin, pulled his mouth open and, before Sam could even think of struggling, he drove one last nail through Sam's tongue into the bottom of his mouth.

Sam screamed until he started choking on his own blood. Captain Hammer tried his evil laugh again but was cut off halfway. He looked down at Sam, confuse, as a bright red blossom spread across his shirt.

"This is pain! I'm feeling pain again," he wailed. "Someone give me a hug."

Sam painfully turned his head, the blood running out of the side of his mouth. A man stood there, completely aghast. He was dressed all in red with more ridiculous gloves and a set of huge goggles, but Sam only noticed him in passing because a frantic Dean was filling his vision.

"Sammy, oh God! What the hell did he do to you?"

Sam tried to say his brothers name but all that came out were garbled gurgles.

"Ssh, don't try to talk. Hey you," he shouted over his shoulder. "You're a doctor, right?"

"Um...not a medical doctor. My Ph.D is in horribleness."

"Well, make yourself useful and call 911!" Dean turned back to his little brother. "It's ok, Sammy. I've got you. You're going to be alright."

Sam finally let go.


Sam woke up to the worst headache he had ever had in his life. It blew every single migraine or vision headache right out of the water. When he tried to focus and get past it, he realized that his arm ached and his mouth felt like a very large rodent had crawled in there to die. He grimaced.

"Hey, are you finally waking up?" Sam turned toward his brothers voice and tried very hard to open his eyes.

He managed to prop them open halfway and looked over at his brother. Dean was disheveled and tired looking.

"You ok?" Sam tried to ask. Although it sounded a lot more like "oogay?"

"I'm fine, Sam. You're the one who looks like Woody Woodpecker mistook you for a tree. Try not to talk though. Seems like Captain Toolbag did his very best to make you less annoying."

Sam pointed worriedly at his own forehead.

"You were really lucky," Dean continued. "Nothing is broken or damaged. Your geekboy brain is still fine and dandy. Just try not to get punched in the nose any time soon. They said the bone was weakened. We're going to take it easy for a while."

Sam nodded gratefully, his eyes already closing as his energy melted away.

"Sure, sleep a little more. I'm sure I can find plenty to do to amuse myself...in a hospital where I'm not allowed to make any noise. No problem. And, before I forget, whatever it is that makes you attract the psycho nutjobs, can we figure it out and turn it off? Maybe there is a hex bag or something to make you invisible to people with the crazies cause I tell you, this is getting old."

Sam drifted off to his favorite sound, his brother's voice. The feel of Dean's fingers, pushing his hair off his forehead, feeling for fever, finally chased him down into sleep.