Ttle: I Hope You Can See Through Me
Characters: Sam, Dean, demon, Bobby, castiel
Warnings: violence, torture
Disclaimer: I own nothing Supernatural.
Summary: A demon plans on Sam helping to break Dean.
"You don't know what you're doing."
"Oh, Sam," he gave a pitying sigh. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
Sam struggled against the ropes frantically. Dean was strapped to a table across the room, gagged and blindfolded. Realising the futility of his actions, he stopped and instead spun his mind. All these years of hunting had to have included some tiny bit of information that would help him in the present situation.
"Why did you even bring me here? Dean and I went our separate ways, or didn't you hear? I brought on the apocolypse that he'd been trying to prevent? There's no love lost between us. He hates me for what I've done and I can't forgive him for that."
"But I think you can. " The man walked closer to Dean. "You're brothers. You argue and yet create a bond stronger than before. I'm not stupid. I've done my research. I've wanted to break Dean for quite some time. Now, I have my opportunity and you're going to help me." He paused for effect. "I could hurt Dean pretty bad on my own. But, if his precious Sammy was an active participant, he'd be devastated, which is how I want him."
"I'm not helping you."
"Really? I think you will. Either way, Dean's in for a world of hurt. But, watching me make you bleed might shatter him even further. It's up to you."
Sam had to choose between two horrible outcomes. When he and Dean split, they had both said awful things. After Sam left, he missed Dean and wanted to call him to apologize. He didn't, though. Dean had been furious at him. He wasn't sure when or how he could get back into Dean's good graces. Once he hurt Dean, he'd never know if it would have been possible.
Dean wasn't moving or making a sound. His breathing was shallow and it was the only indication that he was alive.
"Remove his blindfold and cut his clothes off. Here, use this." In an ironic twist, he was handed Dean's own knife that he kept under his pillow.
After untying the bandana across Dean's eyes, Sam was relieved to find them bright and clear.
"Hello, big brother," Sam sneered. He put on a mask of anger, fighting to betray his real emotions. He knew he had to play the part and just hope that the damage he was about to cause could be repaired later. "I've been dreaming of having you at my mercy. Today's my lucky day."
He raised the knife and cut through Dean's t-shirt, a thin line of blood trickling along the track of the blade.
Dean's eyes flashed confusion. Sam could only hope that Dean could read his i'm sorry i'm sorry message in his gaze. It was subtle to anyone else but Dean would recognize it. He had to. It was the only way Sam would be able to go through with what he'd been asked.
A brief glint of recognition is all Sam got in return before Dean's face went stonily blank. Sam's heart beat through his chest. There had been that instant of connection. Dean knew Sam's plan, right? Right?
"Rip him open!"
Without looking at the man who was spewing the madness, Sam bared Dean's chest and cut along some already existing scars because he didn't want there to be any new reminders. i'm sorry i'm sorry
If he could control Dean's blood loss, he might be able to save him. If he could save him, he might be forgiven and that forgiveness was worth any anguish on Sam's part.
Bobby and Castiel burst in after Sam had hurt Dean half a dozen times. The evil man fell to the ground,. Even in the wheelchair, Bobby's aim was deadly.
"Dean! Is he okay?" There was junk littered over the floor that made it impossible for Bobby to get to Dean and see for himself.
"He--I had to hurt him. God, I didn't have a choice. Dean!" Sam released Dean's gag and gently turned his head toward him. "Look at me, Dean!"
Dazed, Dean slowly shifted his eyes and tried to focus. They drifted past Sam once and then went back to meet his gaze.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean a word I said. I'm so, so sorry," Sam's anxiety over Dean's reaction to what he'd done got the best of him. "We need to get you out of here and stitched up." Sam patted on Dean's pocket until he found a motel key. He tossed it to Bobby. "This is where we're going. You know it?"
"Sure, kid. Like I know every motel in the country." Bobby grumbled as he opened his cell. "I can find out, though."
They drove a short way in case their captor hadn't been working alone.
"He needs those stitches. He can't wait." Sam rounded the Impala to get the first aid kit.
"What shall I do?" Castiel appeared so close to Sam that he stumbled backwards.
"Quit doing that!" He exclaimed as he walked around the man and back to Dean.
"Let me handle this," Bobby's gruff voice was a comfort. He turned to Castiel, "Just keep out of the way but stay close in case we need you."
Castiel nodded and stepped to the side. He stood near the hood of the car.
Bobby got as close to Dean as he possibly could. "How are you, son? Hell of a way to run into you. Try calling sometime. Give me a heads up. If I hadn't been nearby on my own hunt, we never would have found you."
The corners of Dean's mouth curved up as he listened to the old man. Nothing like his usual smile, but it was something.
"I'm ready." Sam had the needle threaded and a bottle of whiskey in the other hand. "Just a sip, Dean. Enough to take the edge off."
When he moved the bottle from Dean's lips, he whispered, "Sammy, thanks."
"You've found me plenty of times. I'd say you owe me one but I'm way behind in rescue attempts."
"Because I'm the big brother." Dean nodded as Sam poised the needle close to his skin. "Go ahead."
Sam sewed in silence, grateful that Dean allowed him to patch him up and hopeful that they could be okay enough to get back on the road together.