phantisma: (Sam and Dean)
[personal profile] phantisma
Fandom: Supernatural, Broken!Verse
Title: Dirty
Characters/Pairings: Sam, possessed!Sam, OCs
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5373
Summary: Pre-Broken (All parts of Broken are here). Sam continues the inexorable slide into darkness in his search to find his brother.

A/Ns & Warnings: Heavy, serious angst, anger and guilt. Non graphic Non-Con. Sammy goes really dark.



He sat in the back of the diner, a hat pulled low over his forehead, slouched in the seat. Three days of growth covered his face, masking him from everyone but Kerry and Rick who had seen him just like this when they’d come to Cassidy. He watched Jessica talk to the waitress at the counter while she waited for her order to go.

He didn’t want to be seen…though some part of him ached to hold her again. Life with Jessica was simple. Easy. That was one thing life with Dean would never be.

Kerry tapped on the brim of his hat to get his attention. “She’s not going to bite. You should just go say hi.”

Sam shook his head. “Need to focus.”

Kerry caught his hand and tugged to get him to look at her. “This isn’t focus, Sam. This is scary.”

He pulled his hand back. He really didn’t want a lecture. “I know what I’m doing, Kerry.”

“Do you?” Her blue eyes sparkled and pinned him to the spot. “Is that what you think? I don’t think you do know, Sam. This is going to get bad. You’re standing on a ledge and you’re ready to plunge into the dark. You’re ready to throw yourself in after him…but don’t forget that getting in is so much easier than getting out…dark like that…it stains.”

He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I go where Dean is, Kerry. I don’t care where or how. I don’t care about getting dirty, only getting Dean. Nothing else.” He pointedly turned to Rick. “You got what I need?”

Rick nodded. “Yeah…but you won’t like it.”

“Just give it to me.”

Rick slid a piece of paper across the table and Sam opened it. There were four cars listed, two caddies, a Lincoln and a Mazda…all four had some version of “master” for the license plate. He looked up at Kerry. “Which one?” He pointed to the two Cadillacs on the list.

She shook her head. “Not until you promise me you’ll think this through. I’m not sure what’s going on in that head of yours, but I know it isn’t good. You’re not that guy Sam. Don’t let your fear make you that guy.”

Sam closed his eyes and swallowed down the dark, angry mass. “Fine. I’ll think about it. Really. Now, which one.”

She pointed to the black ’95 Cadillac with the license plate “MASTER” registered to a Mr. Roman Derrick from Fremont, California. “He’s right across the bridge.” Sam muttered. Kerry’s hand closed over his.

“Remember. Think. Don’t do something you can’t come back from.”

Sam glared at her, and she held the look. He finally relented, glancing up to find Jessica was gone, then looking back at Kerry and offering her a soft smile. “I remember. Its not like I plan on killing him.”



Maybe he had no plans to actually kill the man, but Sam certainly wasn’t opposed to the idea. He was watching the house, waiting for the car when his cell phone rang. He frowned at the caller id, then flipped it open. “Kerry?”

“Oh…oh. Good. You’re okay.”

“Yeah…why wouldn’t I be?”

“Did you see the paper this morning?”

“No. Why?”

“They found a dead body on campus. Your height, your build, same color hair, face so beat in it was unrecognizable. I…didn’t think it was you…but I had to be sure. Jessica is freaking out. Rick’s with her.”

Sam felt something cold settle into his stomach. “Let her think it was me.” Better she think he was dead than waiting for him to come back.

“What?”

“Kerry…I can’t talk.”

“Sam? No…I think you should come back. Come see me.”

“Can’t. Gotta go.”

“Sam—“

He hung up, watching as a long, black limo pulled in the drive and a man in a suit got out, buttoning his jacket as his driver held the door. “Hello Mr. Derrick.”

He’d already been in the house. He knew the man had money and muscle. He knew the man was wealthy and particular. He knew he made his money finding things for people with a lot of money. The man found people, cars, jewelry…all for a price. He tracked them, hunted them, and when he had enough information for his clients to fetch their prize, he sold it.

All Sam needed to know from him was who he sold Dean to.



Sam wiped the blood off the gun barrel and stepped back. “This would be so much easier if you would just be honest with me.” He held up the picture of Dean again. “This is my brother, Dean Winchester. Seven months ago, you or someone who worked for you paid a woman to set him up. I want him back. Tell me where he is.”

“I never saw him before.”

Sam grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back. “Don’t. That little slut Candy told me about Randy and Dennis…and your car. Just give me a name. Who sent you? Where is he?”

“Fuck you.”

The rage bubbled up and Sam hit him again and again with the butt of the gun. The man slumped forward, still breathing but unconscious. “Fuck!” He kicked out the legs of the chair and sent him crashing to the ground. Shoving the gun back into his pocket, he turned to go back to the computer to see if he could wrestle it into giving up information.

He stopped cold when he heard voices. “I’m telling you it looks like the same car. How many Impalas that old are there in the world?”

“You’re paranoid.” Footsteps were coming his way. Two…maybe three sets…in boots. Those weren’t good odds.

Sam exhaled slowly and moved toward the sliding glass door. He’d overstayed his welcome and gotten nothing for his trouble. He slipped out into the back yard, easing the door closed and skirting around the swimming pool to scale the wall. He heard the yelling when they found Derrick…sprinted toward the car. It had been close. Too close. They knew the car. These were the men who—The fist that connected with his face stopped him mid thought and he crashed backward into a tree.

“Hey guys! Got him.”

Sam looked up. The man was big, easily as tall as Sam himself, but broader at the shoulder. He grinned and reached down, his hand fisting in Sam’s shirt and hauling him to his feet. “Picked the wrong house for stealing shit.”

The fist came again, this time landing in his gut and he doubled over. “N-not stealing.” Sam gasped, holding his hand up. The others were coming, at least two more…fists landing on his shoulder and in his kidney. He groaned and slumped to his knees, doubling over to protect his stomach from the pointed toes and heavy heels. The picture fell from his hand, and he scrambled to find it, hold it.

One of them stepped on his hand as his hand fell on the picture, pressing it into the grass. “Stop.” The voice was deep, and hands and feet left him completely. Sam rolled up, knees to chest, head covered by and arm. A hand, almost gentle touched him. “You boys go check on your boss. Give me a moment with the boy alone. Up boy.”

Sam didn’t move, but he felt his body lifting from the ground. He opened his eyes and shook his head. This was maybe worse. Demon. It had been a while, but Sam had no doubt. Normal people didn’t have glowing yellow eyes or the power to lift an unwilling person from the ground.

It picked the picture of Dean out of his hand and smiled a sickly smile. “Oh, now that’s pretty. I can see why you want him.”

“Fuck you.”

It chuckled and shook it’s head. “And here I thought you were more intelligent them.” He gestured at the retreating backs of the men. Sam felt something squeezing his chest and it was starting to be a struggle to breath. The demon was suddenly close, it’s hand petting over Sam’s face, coming away with blood that he licked off his fingers. “You’re pretty tasty yourself. The ones who have him would love to get their hands on you.”

“You know where he is?” Sam knew better. You don’t talk to demons. You don’t let them see how desperate you are.

It nodded slow, it’s smile sick and knowing and it leaned in, turning Sam’s face and licking up over his bloody cheek. “Oh…I don’t know who specifically…but I have an idea…and there’s people who do know…I could…help you…for a price.”

Sam shook his head. “No.” No. Never deal with demons. Demons lie. Cheat. No. Dean would never….and his father would explode. “No.”

It pouted at him. “No? Sad. I could take you places…show you new things…I bet they’d taste sweet in your mouth…” It pressed forward, and Sam couldn’t move as it closed it’s mouth over his, stuck its tongue inside his mouth. “Oh…yeah…I’d like that…I’m a simple demon, don’t need much. A couple days in your body and when I’m gone, I’ll have the info you need to find him.”

Sam felt cold fingers holding his stomach. He shook his head again. His head was ringing and he was fighting to stay conscious. “Pity, I guess you don’t mind fucking around with bit players while the pretty boy gets fucked into submission…” the demon said, with his words, pictures flowed into Sam’s mind…pictures of Dean on his knees, naked, bound…pictures of men using him.

Sam suddenly dropped to the ground. “I’m contracted to this body through tomorrow night.” It squatted next to him. “After that, I’m a free agent again. You change your mind, you just conjure me up. I’ll take care of all that too, free of charge.” It waved a hand at Sam, at the bruise he could already feel on his face. “Name’s Ephos.”

Sam was vaguely conscious of him walking away, of the dark…and then nothing. When he woke, he was cold and shaky, the sky was dark. He groaned as he tried to pull himself upright, and settled for on his feet and bent at an odd angle. He got to the car and crawled inside.

He was in bad shape, he knew that much. Broken ribs, the one hand was probably broken too. Probably shouldn’t drive…but he didn’t have a choice…No choice. Dean was out there…His head filled with images of Dean being brutalized, closed his eyes and tried to ignore the voice in his head…the one that sounded decidedly demonic.

No. He couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

He fumbled for the phone, dialed Kerry’s number. He needed help. He heard her voice and tried to say something, but the wound on his head was throbbing and he couldn’t keep his eyes open.



When he opened his eyes again he was confused. Everything was different and it took a minute to recognize it as a hospital. His tongue was thick and dry and he had the definite feeling of drugs in his system. He shifted, trying to assess the damage, but everything felt numb. Beside his bed, he was startled to see Jessica, dozing. She stirred and he closed his eyes, tried to regulate his breathing.

She was the last thing he needed right now. Her hand brushed his face, cool…soft. “Jess? You wanted me to tell you when it was 9.” Kerry’s voice, near the door.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“I’ll stay with him.”

Sam felt lips on his forehead. “I thought he was waking up…but then…”

“He’ll be fine, Jess. Go on to class.”

It was a few minutes before Sam heard the door close and Kerry touched him. “You can give it up, I know you’re awake.”

Sam opened his eyes and looked up. She was pissed. “I told you to come back. I told you not to—“

He held up his non-bandaged hand. “Don’t, Kerry.”

“I’m just glad you called me and not my dumbass boyfriend. We’d never have found you.”

Sam grimaced and moved slowly, trying to assess how bad it was. “What’s the damage?”

“Two broken ribs on the right, three on the left. The thumb and wrist on the left hand are broken. Your face looks like someone took a bat too it, concussion. And you’re terminally stupid.” She crossed her arms and stared down at him. “Jessica loves you.”

Sam closed his eyes and nodded. “I know. I used to think I loved her too.”

“Used to think?”

Sam sighed. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with her. “It’s complicated. Let’s just drop it, okay?”

“Fine. Did you at least find what you were looking for?”

Sam shook his head, trying not to let the despair eat through him. “Tell me he’s still alive, Kerry? Tell me…god.” His stomach clenched in fear.

Her hand was gentle as it stroked his face. “I can’t…he—I don’t know.”

“I need a favor.” He tried to sit up a little. “There’s a book. Ann Marie has it.”

“Ann Marie Breaux?” She made a face. No real love there, Sam knew.

Sam nodded. “Just…tell her I need to borrow her Compendium. She’ll know what it is.”

He told himself he wasn’t actually considering it…told himself it was just research…just…understanding the players. Somewhere deep inside he knew he was though…considering it. It. Dealing. With a demon. He shook his head as she left, though he wasn’t sure if he was denying the notion or the knowing look she gave him as she left.


Sam wasn’t surprised when it was Ann Marie herself who showed up. “You look like shit, Winchester.” She held up a big book with a worn leather cover, then a plastic shopping bag. “Figured if you wanted this,” she threw the book on the bed, “you’d need this.” She tossed the bag beside it. “Want to tell me what you’re planning to conjure?”

She hitched her leather clad hip up onto the bed and stared at him. He stared back for a long time before he realized he wasn’t going to win and reached for the book with his good hand. “Not planning to conjure…research.”

She raised an eyebrow and stared. “This isn’t research material.” She tapped the cover of the book. He sighed and shook his head. Ann Marie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Look, I know we don’t see eye to eye on all this magic and shit. But what I got off Kerry tells me you’re into some pretty deep shit, and I know you think she’s all Miss Sweetness and Light, but she ain’t telling you everything…and she thinks you need protecting. So when you go asking for the heavy books and thinking you can lie to me…especially looking like someone tried to redecorate your face with your brains, well…I can still put together my quantum physics and elementary math to realize you need help.”

Sam smiled a little. “Practice that all the way over?”

“Damn near.”

“I can’t give you all the details.”

She nodded.

“Help or not, I’m going after my brother…no matter what that means.”

She nodded again. “Tell me what I can do?”

He flipped open the book, hoping that calling Ephos was a simple thing, because he needed some negotiation before he dealt. “I think…I may have tipped my hand…and I’m thinking I may need to come at it a little differently.”

“Like how?”

“I’m never going to find him if they think I’m his brother.”

“Who are they?”

Sam bit his lip. “That’s what I aim to find out. I need…someplace to work.”

“Have you seen you? No way any doctor’s letting you walk out of here.”

Sam’s eyes swept the room, looking for his clothes. “I need a new identity, Ann Marie…need to make myself into someone they would deal with…which means…something adaptable as I find more information.”

“Because you don’t know who ‘they’ are or why they have your brother…in fact, you don’t know much of anything.” She started to pull the book away from him. “You know? For someone who lectured me for two years about the dangers of playing with dark magic, you’re being super stupid about this, Sam.”

He caught her hand and squeezed until she stopped trying to pull away. “What I know, Ann Marie, is that my brother is missing, and has been for seven months. I know that whoever has him, has him hidden behind some sort of magic or psychic barrier. I know that he’s hurt and alone, and if the last bit of information I got is true, he’s being used as a sex toy or something. That’s what I know.” He hadn’t meant to say it. Saying it brought back the images. He shook his head. “Please. I left him…I left him alone and he disappeared…and by now he must think no one is coming…I’m afraid for him…and Kerry can’t help me with this.”

She pulled her hand free and pushed jet hair behind her ears. “Okay…okay. But you let me do this my way.” She got up off the bed and went to the closet, coming back with his pants and shirt. “You get dressed. I’ll find you some wheels.”



He still wasn’t sure he would go through with it, even as he finished pouring out the salt and burning the herbs and chanting the incantation. He’d been vague with Ann Marie about Ephos and what exactly he was. The Compendium told him enough…low level demon, sexually fixated, healing properties, probably as an enticement to allow possession. It was enough, because it all pointed to the damn thing likely telling the truth…if…if what he’d said about Dean was true.

If.

He realized it was a big if. But Dean was alive. He knew it. In his gut he knew Dean was alive and he knew…it was almost as if he could hear him screaming for him.

Sam sat back and waited. Outside the bedroom, Ann Marie and a friend waited. If he went through with it Ephos would be required to give them certain information before they let Sam leave.

The air shimmered and slowly coalesced into a shape, which slowly solidified. It smiled as it settled to a sort of sitting position opposite him. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ve got some questions.”

It cocked it’s head. “Like who’s fucking your brother right now?”

Sam clenched his jaw, then slowly exhaled. “I could just send you back to hell.”

“Okay, I’ll play nice. I can’t wait to be inside that body of yours…delicious…”

“Do you know why they took my brother?”

“I’d venture it’s because they thought he’d make a good little slave.”

Sam closed his eyes as the demon leaned forward and pictures filled his mind. “Stop. Slave?”

“Look, we could be all coy about this, play your twenty questions. Truth is this. There’s nasty men in the world…they take people, rape them, break them, teach them how to suck cock and take it up the ass. Those guys I was with before? They mostly handle special cases for those people. Demons. Half-breeds. Valuable humans.”

Sam shook his head. None of it seemed real. “Half-breeds?”

“You know, demons fuck humans and put a little Johnny inside them? The babies come out…special…make great assassins if nothing else. Hard to trap, harder to break…fun as all hell to fuck.”

Sam swallowed with disgust. “So these are the people who have my brother?”

“Dean Winchester. Hunter, strong, proud. Saw the picture. Wanted a piece of him…but their trainers are hard sells. Don’t go in for the possession…they’d rather force us into little containers and castrate us.”

“Sounds reasonable.” Sam growled. He was already not liking this thing. “How are you going to help me find them?”

It sort of shrugged, a shifting up and scrunching together that was all together unsettling. “There’s a guy. A driver. He contracts with them to take the programmed ones to their markets…or brothels. You can’t just waltz into one of these joints, you know? You have to work your way in…gotta be wealthy and play in the right circles. My end of our deal. I’ll get you the name of a place to start…your end, you take me there and let me use your body to play. You’ll have to pay the price too…this is going to take money.”

“And what’s my guarantee?” Sam asked. “If I let you crawl inside me, how do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain?”

“I’m a demon, what makes you think there’s a guarantee?”

He didn’t like it. Really didn’t like it. It was wrong. It went against everything he believed. It was for Dean.

Dean.

“I don’t have all night, you know?”

“Shut up.”

He took a deep breath. Not yet. Not when there might still be another way. He closed his eyes. “I’m going to have to think about it. I’ll be in touch.” He moved to extinguish the candle and murmured the Latin.

“These are brutal men, Sammy…don’t think too long.” Sam looked up, pausing mid incantation. Outside the door, he could hear Ann Marie calling his name, wanting to know what was taking so long. He hesitated, his eyes burning…his stomach twisted around the knowledge that Dean had always been there for him. His hand shifted, huddled over the paper he’d written his information on.

The demon rose, large, hovering…Sam abandoned the incantation and instead started stating his terms for the deal. Ephos laughed, an awful, sick sound…and Sam shut off the part of his mind that was screaming a warning at him, dropped his hands to the side and let it in.

The sensation was disorienting, as it poured into him, Sam’s throat burned and his eyes watered and he could vaguely hear himself yelling over the roar in his head. There was a long moment of adjustment…the odd feeling of another consciousness inside his…of knowing his hand was moving though he hadn’t told it to…everything felt distant for a minute, like he was removed from the immediacy of his environment.

Then, with an almost audible pop, he was back in control and the demon withdrew to something like a thickness in the back of his mind. That was part of the deal, that Sam would control when it would come out, when it would take over…and it would just provide him information until then.

He stood on shaky legs and opened the door to Ann Marie’s shocked face. “It’s done.”

She grabbed his hands and squinted up at him. “Sam?”

He nodded. “For the moment. It’s…inside, but it’s me.”

“What next?”

Sam licked his lips. The whole thing was more uncomfortable than he’d anticipated. “I’m going to find someone who can point me in the right direction. In the meantime, I need you to build me a persona…complete with a respectable background…something with money and a reputation for cruelty. Make it convincing.”

“How convincing?”

He knew what she was asking, how dirty she should get to make it work. Once upon a time he would have blanched. “No holes. I don’t care what you need to do.”

She held his gaze for a minute, then nodded. “You trust this…thing…inside you?”

Sam shook his head. “No, but I was pretty explicit in the terms. I’ll be fine.”

“How long?”

Sam grabbed for his duffle bag and headed for the door. “I don’t know. Just get the stuff. If the information he’s giving me is true, I’m going to need it to be fool proof.”



The demon was chomping at the bit to get out. Sam was panting with exertion. If Sam was panting, the man before him was gasping, gulping at the rotten air of the sewer, dangling from bloody wrists.

“Please…I’ve told you everything I know. Please…”

“Shut up.” Sam growled. He believed him, of course. He’d beaten the man bloody, broken ribs, stripped flesh from his back. He’d started babbling early on, and hadn’t stopped until he ran out of things to tell him.

Sam had the name of a place in New Mexico. A place to start. He wouldn’t find Dean there, but it was a place where the man took others, mostly half breeds…bought by the keeper of the brothel…bought from the same men who purportedly had Dean. Bought.

Sam swallowed the bile that rose and acquiesced to the demon demanding release…this was part of the price. Sam closed his eyes as it swelled up inside him, closed his eyes and tried not to know what it would do with his body.

It licked the bloody skin and Sam felt himself harden, knew what it would do…even before his own hands yanked the man’s pants down and the demon shoved Sam’s cock up inside him…Sam focused on Dean…on Dean needing him, waiting for him…tried not to feel the flush of power, the thrill of pleasure as his hands pressed into open wounds, as his tongue licked up the blood…as his body invaded the man’s and his cock spewed come into him.

Then Sam and the demon were battling for dominance, stumbling away…toward the tunnel that led into the light…toward the pretense that everything was normal…and as he felt the heat touch his skin, Sam doubled over, retching into the putrid stream of water falling into the darkness while Ephos laughed inside him.

With shaking hands, Sam pulled his phone out and dialed. “Tell me you’re ready.”

The edges were all blurry now…of what had been Sam and what had been the demon…and his body still thrummed with the pleasure of the deed. He hadn’t been dead when Sam pulled them away, but he would be…soon enough. “I’m in Jackson, Missouri. Fed Ex it to me at the Lakeside Motel on Grant Ave.”

It had been three weeks tracking the bastard down. Three weeks. Another day to get the documents. A few days drive to New Mexico. Time was slipping through his hands…He was hard again as he got into the car…his hands shaking with the desire to fuck just about anything that came his way. He pushed at it, at the demon inside him…and drove away toward the motel.


Sam woke to the sound of knocking. His body ached, and it was easy to understand why as he tried to find his way out of the bed. He scarcely remembered the night before, but the three women in his bed gave him a good indication of what had happened. He pulled a pair of jeans onto his aching body and went to the door, squinting into the early afternoon sunlight.

“Delivery for Sam Winchester?”

Sam nodded and reached out to sign for the package and thanked the man, then closed the door, thankful for the cool darkness of the room. One of the women was stirring as he tucked the package into his duffle.

“Wake your friends and get out. I’m leaving.” He threw a wad of twenties on the table and went to the bathroom, closing the door and starting the shower. He didn’t want to see them leave. He didn’t want to remember their faces. He’d sated the demon’s needs for the time being. He stared at himself in the mirror and hated what he saw.

He was going to have to do something for money. He was already running low…and paying for whores to entertain the demon inside him hadn’t actually been in the plan.

If you’d let me kill them you wouldn’t have had to pay them,

“Shut up.”

Sam stripped out of the jeans and stepped into the shower, wishing the water could actually make him clean…but knowing he’d probably never feel clean again. He’d have to bust out some old skills, hustle some pool or something.



From the outside, it wasn’t much to look at. Much like any other desert bar in a desert town, it was clapboard and tinted windows, neon signs. Sam could tell that the men and women that filled the bar area were far from average though…as if having a demon inside him made him sensitive, he could almost see the darkness lurking in them. My turn.

Ephos exploded, taking over everything even more completely than before and Sam was mostly along for the ride. He watched from inside himself as he walked into the room, his eyes skipping over faces until the demon found the one it wanted.

There was a negotiation with the woman who was apparently in charge and they were shown into a room. A few minutes later, the first of them was shown in. Sam didn’t want to know…He wished he could close his eyes, stop the way his own voice echoed around the room as she was forced to her knees.

She was submissive and never made a sound…the second one screamed some. She was more human looking than the others and Ephos pointed out she was only a little bit demon….young, didn’t know her heritage, had no idea that she was here because her demon grandmother made a deal 75 years before to give up her progeny in order to remain with her mortal lover.

When it was finally over, and Sam’s body was physically incapable of more, even with a demon empowering him, they stumbled out, up the stairs and into the main room. The old woman who ran the place was all smiles as Ephos counted out money Sam had stolen and hustled.

She slipped a piece of paper into his hand, called him by the name of his new identity, “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Silvers. I hope you find what it is you’re looking for.” And then they were back out into the night…a week or more gone. Sam clutched the piece of paper as Ephos laughed.

Well my time is up. Thanks for a blast.

It was like choking on his own lungs as it came screaming out of him, pouring out of his mouth and nose and leaving him gasping on his knees in the gravel beside the Impala. When he was free, Sam wrapped his arms around his stomach, vomiting out the built up disgust of the last seven days…crying silently…until his body hurt and he forced himself to his feet. Another whole month and he was little closer to Dean than he had been.

He looked at the paper in his hand. It was a name and a phone number, instructions for making contact…and a number. A large number. He got into the car and started the engine. He needed a motel, a shower to get the smell of sex and blood off his body. He needed a plan for getting his hands on money, he needed clothes and a new phone. Nothing he was about to do could be traced to Sam Winchester.

He angled the rear view mirror away so he wouldn’t have to look at himself. He couldn’t look himself in the eye. Dean would never have considered what he just let happen. Dean would have found another way.

Sam pushed the self-loathing down and away. He couldn’t let it in…not now…if he did he wouldn’t be able to function. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. He felt empty…cold…even though it was easily 90 degrees outside. Dirty.

The small room was ratty and dirty, on the outskirts of Albuquerque, but it felt appropriate. He climbed into the shower with the water blasting as hot as he could make it go, scrubbing at his skin until long after the water ran cold. Wrapped in a towel, Sam raked his fingers through wet hair and sank onto the bed. He could see the faces of the young girls and boys Ephos had wanted…how blank and pliant they were…and that is what they were doing to Dean.

Dean. His Dean…out there somewhere broken, raped…Sam shivered and lowered his head into his hands. Somewhere out there…alone and waiting.

He fell back onto the bed and willed the tears away. In the morning he’d set about getting new credit cards in the new name, he’d get a phone…he’d start getting the money he needed…and then, then he’d go find his brother and bring him home.
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