Pretending, Supernatural, NC-17
Jan. 27th, 2007 11:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: Pretending
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean(overall), John, Bobby, Ellen, Dean/OMC, Sam/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3755
Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken, To Be Strong,Nothing, No One, Alone, Yours, Mine, Better, Choice, Gathering, Betrayal, Taken, Remember, Training, Conflagration, Setting Up and Surviving.
Summary: Dean earns the return of his collar, and tries not to fall off the very delicate edge of his deception. Sam doubts himself...his father...and the hunters attack.
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes torture and rape and very dark violence.
Sam seemed so small…so frail and fragile as they knelt side by side and waited. Master James glanced up from some paperwork, then slowly stood and crossed to them. “Is he prepared?”
Dean bowed his head before he spoke. “Yes Master, clean and shaved and ready for your inspection.”
“Is there anything to report?”
“He was very obedient, Master. He had an orgasm as you commanded.” Dean shifted uncomfortably. There was more, that wouldn’t please James…and he had to say it correctly to have the right response. He glanced up, then back at the floor.
“Is there something else?”
“I wouldn’t presume to speak ill of your trainers, sir, but he was injured.”
As predicted, James’s expression turned slightly sour. “Explain.”
“Two tears, sir, inside him. He will not be fit for service.” Dean held his breath. It was risky, Master could blame Sam. But if he didn’t, Dean knew that Thomas would be held responsible and that thought was worth the risk.
“Show me.”
Dean looked to Sam, willing him to know what to do. Sam blinked, then bent forward, his hands moving to expose himself for James. Dean had softened the tender skin with salve after the shower, easing the sting. James squatted behind Sam to look, his gloved finger easing inside him. Same didn’t flinch, didn’t seem to breathe.
Then James was standing and walking way. He disappeared behind a door and Dean dared look at Sam. “Good boy, Sammy. Real good,” he whispered
James returned. “Thank you, slave, for your honest report. I am pleased with your performance. Lift your head.” Dean obeyed, his eyes falling instantly on the leather in Master’s hands. “I always reward good behavior.” He held up the collar. Dean’s eyes locked on it, watched it come closer. He swallowed. At one time he’d worked very hard to earn it…then it was taken away, replaced…and lost. It was a symbol of being good…of being a slave…of belonging. It was confusing.
Still, there was pride when James buckled it around his neck. “Take him to the cage. He may sleep. Once he is in his cage, come to me. Mara is preparing food. You will serve me, and when I have eaten, Mara will provide you food, which you will share with him.”
“Thank you Master.”
“Go.”
Dean rose and Sam followed shakily. He led his brother out of the Master’s quarters and into the small room that held the smaller cage. It was more hospitable than the training cage, with a padded place to sleep. Dean helped Sam down and Sam clung to him.
“It’s okay.” Dean said, smiling at him.
“Don’t leave.” Sam looked scared. Dean soothed him with a soft hand.
“I have to Sam. You’re safe now. No one is going to touch you, but him. And he won’t…not yet. Sleep. You’re exhausted. Sleep and when you wake up I’ll be here with food.”
John Winchester was not a patient man…but this was something he understood. Military precision. He wasn’t the only hunter with a military background, and Gordon’s cousin was an impressive man. The unit he’d brought was fifteen men with specialized training and a record of retrieving hostages from hostile situations. He liked their plan. In fact, he was impressed by the whole thing.
One by one the team leaders came into the command center for last minute updates, spent a few minutes watching the video feed of their quadrants and said their goodbyes. One by one their small force was moving into place. Daylight was less than a half hour away when John took a deep breath and shrugged into his coat. “I guess this is where I head out to meet up with my team.”
“Me too.” Allen said, standing.
“What about me?” Gabe asked, looking up from his place at the equipment.
“You’re staying here with me, sugar.” Ellen said, her hand on his shoulder. “We need you on the hack job.”
“And my father doesn’t want me going in there.”
“No, I don’t.” Allen said.
“Sam and Dean are my friends.”
John reached over the monitor to cover Ellen’s hand with his own. “And you can help them best from here. Your daddy doesn’t need to risk you. I won’t let him risk you.”
Gabe huffed and shook his head. “Whatever.”
Ellen settled into a seat next to him. “You are the best man for this job, sweetie. We need you here.”
John squeezed her hand and she smiled. “You be careful, John. I mean it. Stick to the plan.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Sam huddled in the corner of the cage, the bowl of oatmeal cradled to him, eating as rapidly as he could without a spoon. His eyes wouldn’t leave the collar around Dean’s neck as he sat opposite him. “Don’t make yourself sick.” Dean chastised and Sam looked up, blinking as the words trickled into his brain. He looked down at the bowl and up at Dean.
“Hungry.” Sam said as if that explained something, or made it okay that he was shoving oatmeal into his mouth with his fingers.
“Slow down.” Dean insisted. “He won’t be happy if you get sick.”
Sam wanted to yell, scream that he didn’t care if he was unhappy…but he couldn’t, he could only nod his head and slow down. His stomach wasn’t as happy about food as it should have been anyway, and he could already feel that fullness, despite the very small amount of food he’d managed to get into him.
Dean had been back only a few minutes, smelling of soap and freshly showered. Sam glared at him. He’d been with him, had served him. Let him use him. Sam felt a sting of jealousy, that Dean had given himself…that Dean wasn’t his…and hung his head over his bowl, hiding his eyes. “How long?” he whispered.
“Soon.” Dean whispered back. It was the same answer he got every time he asked.
John looked at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. They were close. So close…and it had to go off precisely…any one unit moved too soon and they’d get away. If they got away there was every chance he would lose his boys forever. “Control, any sign we’ve been detected?”
“Everything’s still a go.”
“Any change in locations I should know about?”
“Yeah, Sam isn’t with Caleb any more.”
“Where is he?”
“We aren’t sure. He must be in one of the residential areas, because we don’t have him on any of the security feeds.”
“Great.”
“Oh, and there was a truck that pulled in about ten minutes ago. It looks like they unloaded 10 prisoners.”
“Roger that. Relay that to the extraction team.”
John looked his team over. They were ready. The rest of the teams were in place. The sky was a faded grey, heavy with clouds and the faint orange was creeping up over the hills that surrounded the compound. The heavy guns were descending those hills even now, covered by the glare. The morning rotation of guards and personnel were still in their residential quarters and barracks and intel gathered in the time since Gabe’s arrival indicated that they had another hour before the change of shift.
His earphone crackled. “Five seconds to lock down.”
The first thing to go would be the outside power. When the back up generators came on Gabe would hack the security grid and lock down each floor, actively isolating each for the teams to take over.
John turned to watch as the outside flood lights blinked, then went out. It took twenty seconds or so for the generators to kick in, and the lights were less bright. Gabe’s voice filled his ear. “Hacking security grid. Perimeter is down.”
Sam woke with a start. He was curled up on the soft pad in the cage, with Dean sleeping on the cold metal floor not far away. If he could feel beyond the numbness that had settled over him, he might be guilty for it.
There was no way to tell the time, or how long they’d been allowed to sleep. He’d lost all concept of day or night. He shivered, though the cage wasn’t cold and shifted up to sit, arranging himself so that his hurting ass was as comfortable as he could make it. Dean came for him…Dean gave himself to James…to Master James to save Sam.
Only Sam could only think of all of the fucking he’d endured…how they’d pounded him over and over…how he’d begged for it to stop…even when he swore he would be strong.
Strong.
Sam lowered his head onto his bent knees. It had taken them months to break Dean. Months and making him believe his family was gone. Sam had folded in less than four days. How much more had Dean endured? How much more…and yet, he came back…he gave himself up. All in some vain attempt to save Sam…to lead his father to them.
“Sam?” Dean’s voice was not even a whisper, but Sam looked at him, blinking away the tears.
He nodded and looked away, swallowing the fear. “You should sleep.”
“Can’t.”
Dean sat up. “It’s hard. I know.”
“I let them hurt Caleb.”
Dean shook his head. Sam wanted him to hold him…touch him…make it better, like when they were kids. “No Sam. You did good.”
Sam couldn’t stop the tears now. “No,…I gave up…I…I couldn’t take it…” He gave in to make it stop, even knowing Dean had come for him…gave in, knowing Robert would own him, use him…anything to stop the devastating rape and beatings.
Dean moved closer, his hand wiping at Sam’s cheek and pulling back. “You did exactly what I needed you to, Sammy. I could only help you once you…were brought here. You did good. You did the right thing.”
Sam was shaking again. His body hurt in ways he’d never felt before, more than that he’d thought…he could handle it…thought he could just close it off and forget it…but he kept feeling Robert’s hands in the van…the gentle, loving caress, even as he fucked Sam hard…kept picturing Robert with tears in his eyes. Their father wasn’t going to make it…he didn’t have what it took…He wouldn’t get past his revulsion of what they both had become…and Sam would belong to Robert…and Dean would be sold…and it was all for nothing… “Robert…he’s waiting. He’s going to take me away.”
The hurt on Dean’s face was intense and he touched Sam’s knee. If Master saw, they would both be in trouble. Sam lowered his eyes at the thought. “Mine, Sam.” Dean’s voice cracked a little.
Sam nodded, though he wasn’t sure he could believe it right now.
“You should sleep. The next few hours will be hard on you.”
Sam let Dean lay him down. “When the lights are on, we’ll go to the bathroom again and prepare. I’ll help you. It will be okay. We’ll both be good and pretend and they’ll come for us. You’ll see.”
Sam closed his eyes and tried not to feel lost inside the pain and humiliation…tried not to watch Dean lay down on the cold metal floor and close his eyes as if he’d just crawled into a soft bed.
He didn’t want to think that his father wouldn’t come…but he hadn’t come for Dean. Only Sam had done that. Sam had gone through hell to find him and save him from the unlocked cage. Sam sat up. Unlocked.
He stared at the door. Stared and couldn’t bring himself to try it. He would know. Sam was still staring at it when the lights came on sometime later. Dean sat up and nodded at Sam. “Can you walk?” Sam shrugged and got to his knees, then let Dean help him to his feet. He nodded when his legs held him and Dean led him out and into the bathroom. Dean peed and moved aside for Sam.
“Aren’t you gonna…” Sam looked at the toilet.
Dean patted his belly. “Can’t. Not yet.” There was a wink and Sam didn’t understand, but he nodded and turned to take care of his own body.
They had nearly finished, Dean had shaved himself and was shaving Sam when the lights went out. Dean’s hand stopped before he could hurt Sam and they both turned to the door. “We go to the mat and wait.” Dean whispered, wiping Sam’s face with a towel. It was a good thing Sam’s beard didn’t grow like Dean’s.
Dean felt panic creeping through him as he led Sam through the hall and into the main room, urging him to his knees on the rubber mat beside Master’s chair. “Knees apart, ankles crossed, hands in your lap,” he said softly. The lights flickered on again and Master James appeared, looking uncharacteristically rumbled in a bathroom, his hair sleep mussed. His eyes snapped to Sam and Dean, then around the room.
“Attend me.” James said to Dean. “You, stay there. I will inspect you when I am done.”
Dean managed a soft touch to the side of Sam’s thigh as he stood and followed James from the room to assist him with his own morning ritual. He remembered this. Holding his towel while he showered, his mirror while he shaved, his clothes while he dressed. As James took his jacket from Dean he nodded. “Return to the mat. I will be out shortly.”
A few tense seconds passed. “Primary building is secure. All teams report for entry when in position.” John and started his team forward, moving rapidly into the compound, cutting through the fencing and fanning out. All around them there were rapid bursts of fire. “Secondary building secure. Teams 5 and 6, you have a go.”
He raised his gun as three guards came out of the shadows of the building, firing mindlessly as he continued to move. To his left someone else was firing too. All three men fell and John paused as they passed them to put a bullet into each head to make sure. They didn’t have long before they would start to respond and start working to retake control of their grid. “All teams, proceed to primary targets.” Ellen’s voice said and John gave the nod to his lead.
“Control, this is Team W. Ready at our injection target.”
“Roger Team W.” There was a click and a thud. “Team W is go for injection.”
John realized he was holding his breath and let it out slowly. All he had to do was get his boys out. All he had to do is hope they were okay.
Dean was kneeling when the lights went down a second time and James came out of the bedroom quickly, reaching for the phone. He cursed and hung it up, then went to the door of the suite. He was gone for a few minutes and Dean glanced at Sam. “This is it.”
Sam looked at him funny, then at the door. “Dad?” The suite was lit only by a handful of dull emergency lights, battery operated back ups that did little to eliminate the dark.
Dean nodded, then his face went back to the dull expression of a slave as Master James returned, a couple of armed men and Robert in tow. James grabbed Robert and shoved him into a wall. “You know…you have been nothing but trouble since the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“This isn’t my fault.” Robert said. “I’ve been here since we brought Sam in. I haven’t gone anywhere, haven’t spoken to anyone.”
James released him and stepped back a pace. “I don’t care if you brought them here yourself or not, Robert. This is your mess. Mr. Gorlian is not going to be pleased.”
“No.” Robert said, holding up both hands. “I did my part. You’ve got him.” He pointed at Dean. “All broken and trained and ready to sell for twice what you got Sam to pay for him. Hell, he came back to you because you programmed him so well. That’s gotta be worth something, right?”
James glared at him, then turned to look at Dean. He could feel those eyes, the bubbling fury…he knew what that fury could do to him. “You know…it’s possible I underestimated him.” James was walking back toward Dean. “Did I, slave? Is there something I should know?”
Dean didn’t lift his eyes. “No, sir.” He tried not to hyperventilate because it was a lie, and when Master found out, it was going to cost him.
His hand was under Dean’s chin, lifting his face. “I assumed that you would never willingly come back to me unless the programming was intact. Perhaps I should test that theory.”
Dean didn’t move. Never flinch James starred at him for the longest time, then let go of him. “Morris, bring the rack.”
One of the men disappeared into a different room and returned with the presentation rack. He set it up in the center of the room. “Very good. Now, Morris, you and your partner go find out what’s going on…and see if you can get the phone lines up, I’d like to have a vehicle prepared for immediate departure.”
He didn’t look to see that he was obeyed, only reached out a hand to fist in Sam’s hair, yanking him up and dragging him to the rack. Dean’s heart sank, but he didn’t move. James shoved Sam’s feet into the cuffs, then stretched his arms out to the ends of the rack, forcing Sam to bend forward as his hands were shackled to the frame.
“Maybe you can keep quiet. Maybe you can’t. Tell me what I want to know, or he pays the price.” James went to the mantle and pulled a knife off the wall. “I will make him bleed, slave. I will cut him. Is there something you should tell me?”
Dean was frozen to the spot, couldn’t move or speak…couldn’t think beyond the light on the blade and the bruised expanse of Sam’s back. James was swift, a long red line drawn over purple skin, the blood wet and shiny in the pale light of the emergency lighting. Sam didn’t make a sound, but his body quivered.
Two, then three cuts marked Sam’s skin. Then a fourth, and it was Robert who spoke, not Dean.
“Stop. Just…Let me take him and go. Deal with the other one anyway you want…but stop.”
James turned to look at him. “You dare give me orders? Do you remember boy? Do you remember what you are?”
Robert drew himself up with a deep breath and shook his head. “Not anymore. I gave you him.” He pointed at Dean. “You never wanted me anyway. It was all a ploy to get more information so you could find ones who suited you.”
James’s knife swept through the air and cut open Robert’s shirt, then the tip traced the delicate scar in the shape of a “J” over Robert’s heart. “You are Nothing. No one. Alone…Just like them. You don’t give me orders.”
Robert’s face was pale when his eyes flicked to Dean’s. He wasn’t sure what he saw in them…panic, fear…desire…a need…Dean swallowed as he realized Robert wanted his help. Help.
The door to the suite opened and Morris fell into it, kicking the door closed. “We’re under attack…Jahns is down…the floor is locked down…”
“You’re bleeding on my floor.” James said dryly. Dean could see the irritation in his stride as he crossed to Morris. “How many?”
“Don’t know sir. They’re coming this way.”
“Fuck!” James stood and found himself faced with the barrel of a gun. “Come now Robert, we both know you don’t have the balls to use that.”
“I don’t think you know me as well as you might like to.” Robert said. “Dean. Get your brother out of that contraption.”
Dean looked at James, then at Robert. “Now!”
Sam was still shaking, whimpering as Dean’s hands slid down his legs to the cuffs and pushed the release, slowly moving Sam’s legs together until he was standing. “Stand down, slave.” James warned. “Leave him and come to me.”
Dean’s hands fell to his side and he looked up at James. Do as Master says without hesitation.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice was cracked and broken and it cut through to him. “You came for me, Dean,” he whispered. Dean fought the need to please master and concentrated on the need to take care of Sam. His Sam.
His hands sought out the straps at Sam’s wrists and eased Sam upright slowly. “My Sam,” he whispered in Sam’s ear. Sam shuddered as the new wounds in his back made contact with Dean’s skin.
“Good, now bring him here. We’re leaving.”
No. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work. They stumbled forward until they were close enough that Robert could reach them. “That’s my boy, come on Sammy.” Robert held the gun with one hand and Sam’s waist with the other and moved toward the door. They were nearly at the door when it exploded open, sending them sprawling and making Dean jump.
There was smoke and noise and confusion…then Dean was being dragged, James’s fist in his hair, pulling him toward the bedroom, the knife still in his hand. Dean kicked and fought, more to see Sam than in rebellion. Sam had to be okay. Sam had to be safe. Then James hurled him into the room and into the wall and everything got a little fuzzy.
“Get Winchester in here!” a voice rang out.
Sam tried to lift his head, tried to function. Everything seem tinted in red and there were men and no Dean. “Dean?” He pulled himself away from the swirling colors…moved to hide…he shouldn’t be seen…He dragged an uncooperative leg and cowered behind the chair. Dean was gone. Robert…he was…Sam dared a look, but instead of Robert, he saw his father, filling the hole where once the door had been.
He closed his eyes, folded into himself. No….no….Sam had to make it good…make himself okay…pretend nothing happened…he could pretend…He looked again, saw his father scanning the room…No…he couldn’t. Sam bit off the sob and tried to breathe out…but his lungs didn’t seem to work anymore and his head was screaming…but he’d come for them…and Sam wasn’t sure what that meant…or how to react…but the blood seeping from his hairline and the knot from where the exploding door had caught him took all the options away, dropping him out of his confusion and into a soft darkness.
Title: Pretending
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean(overall), John, Bobby, Ellen, Dean/OMC, Sam/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3755
Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from
nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken, To Be Strong,Nothing, No One, Alone, Yours, Mine, Better, Choice, Gathering, Betrayal, Taken, Remember, Training, Conflagration, Setting Up and Surviving. Summary: Dean earns the return of his collar, and tries not to fall off the very delicate edge of his deception. Sam doubts himself...his father...and the hunters attack.
A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes torture and rape and very dark violence.
Sam seemed so small…so frail and fragile as they knelt side by side and waited. Master James glanced up from some paperwork, then slowly stood and crossed to them. “Is he prepared?”
Dean bowed his head before he spoke. “Yes Master, clean and shaved and ready for your inspection.”
“Is there anything to report?”
“He was very obedient, Master. He had an orgasm as you commanded.” Dean shifted uncomfortably. There was more, that wouldn’t please James…and he had to say it correctly to have the right response. He glanced up, then back at the floor.
“Is there something else?”
“I wouldn’t presume to speak ill of your trainers, sir, but he was injured.”
As predicted, James’s expression turned slightly sour. “Explain.”
“Two tears, sir, inside him. He will not be fit for service.” Dean held his breath. It was risky, Master could blame Sam. But if he didn’t, Dean knew that Thomas would be held responsible and that thought was worth the risk.
“Show me.”
Dean looked to Sam, willing him to know what to do. Sam blinked, then bent forward, his hands moving to expose himself for James. Dean had softened the tender skin with salve after the shower, easing the sting. James squatted behind Sam to look, his gloved finger easing inside him. Same didn’t flinch, didn’t seem to breathe.
Then James was standing and walking way. He disappeared behind a door and Dean dared look at Sam. “Good boy, Sammy. Real good,” he whispered
James returned. “Thank you, slave, for your honest report. I am pleased with your performance. Lift your head.” Dean obeyed, his eyes falling instantly on the leather in Master’s hands. “I always reward good behavior.” He held up the collar. Dean’s eyes locked on it, watched it come closer. He swallowed. At one time he’d worked very hard to earn it…then it was taken away, replaced…and lost. It was a symbol of being good…of being a slave…of belonging. It was confusing.
Still, there was pride when James buckled it around his neck. “Take him to the cage. He may sleep. Once he is in his cage, come to me. Mara is preparing food. You will serve me, and when I have eaten, Mara will provide you food, which you will share with him.”
“Thank you Master.”
“Go.”
Dean rose and Sam followed shakily. He led his brother out of the Master’s quarters and into the small room that held the smaller cage. It was more hospitable than the training cage, with a padded place to sleep. Dean helped Sam down and Sam clung to him.
“It’s okay.” Dean said, smiling at him.
“Don’t leave.” Sam looked scared. Dean soothed him with a soft hand.
“I have to Sam. You’re safe now. No one is going to touch you, but him. And he won’t…not yet. Sleep. You’re exhausted. Sleep and when you wake up I’ll be here with food.”
John Winchester was not a patient man…but this was something he understood. Military precision. He wasn’t the only hunter with a military background, and Gordon’s cousin was an impressive man. The unit he’d brought was fifteen men with specialized training and a record of retrieving hostages from hostile situations. He liked their plan. In fact, he was impressed by the whole thing.
One by one the team leaders came into the command center for last minute updates, spent a few minutes watching the video feed of their quadrants and said their goodbyes. One by one their small force was moving into place. Daylight was less than a half hour away when John took a deep breath and shrugged into his coat. “I guess this is where I head out to meet up with my team.”
“Me too.” Allen said, standing.
“What about me?” Gabe asked, looking up from his place at the equipment.
“You’re staying here with me, sugar.” Ellen said, her hand on his shoulder. “We need you on the hack job.”
“And my father doesn’t want me going in there.”
“No, I don’t.” Allen said.
“Sam and Dean are my friends.”
John reached over the monitor to cover Ellen’s hand with his own. “And you can help them best from here. Your daddy doesn’t need to risk you. I won’t let him risk you.”
Gabe huffed and shook his head. “Whatever.”
Ellen settled into a seat next to him. “You are the best man for this job, sweetie. We need you here.”
John squeezed her hand and she smiled. “You be careful, John. I mean it. Stick to the plan.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Sam huddled in the corner of the cage, the bowl of oatmeal cradled to him, eating as rapidly as he could without a spoon. His eyes wouldn’t leave the collar around Dean’s neck as he sat opposite him. “Don’t make yourself sick.” Dean chastised and Sam looked up, blinking as the words trickled into his brain. He looked down at the bowl and up at Dean.
“Hungry.” Sam said as if that explained something, or made it okay that he was shoving oatmeal into his mouth with his fingers.
“Slow down.” Dean insisted. “He won’t be happy if you get sick.”
Sam wanted to yell, scream that he didn’t care if he was unhappy…but he couldn’t, he could only nod his head and slow down. His stomach wasn’t as happy about food as it should have been anyway, and he could already feel that fullness, despite the very small amount of food he’d managed to get into him.
Dean had been back only a few minutes, smelling of soap and freshly showered. Sam glared at him. He’d been with him, had served him. Let him use him. Sam felt a sting of jealousy, that Dean had given himself…that Dean wasn’t his…and hung his head over his bowl, hiding his eyes. “How long?” he whispered.
“Soon.” Dean whispered back. It was the same answer he got every time he asked.
John looked at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. They were close. So close…and it had to go off precisely…any one unit moved too soon and they’d get away. If they got away there was every chance he would lose his boys forever. “Control, any sign we’ve been detected?”
“Everything’s still a go.”
“Any change in locations I should know about?”
“Yeah, Sam isn’t with Caleb any more.”
“Where is he?”
“We aren’t sure. He must be in one of the residential areas, because we don’t have him on any of the security feeds.”
“Great.”
“Oh, and there was a truck that pulled in about ten minutes ago. It looks like they unloaded 10 prisoners.”
“Roger that. Relay that to the extraction team.”
John looked his team over. They were ready. The rest of the teams were in place. The sky was a faded grey, heavy with clouds and the faint orange was creeping up over the hills that surrounded the compound. The heavy guns were descending those hills even now, covered by the glare. The morning rotation of guards and personnel were still in their residential quarters and barracks and intel gathered in the time since Gabe’s arrival indicated that they had another hour before the change of shift.
His earphone crackled. “Five seconds to lock down.”
The first thing to go would be the outside power. When the back up generators came on Gabe would hack the security grid and lock down each floor, actively isolating each for the teams to take over.
John turned to watch as the outside flood lights blinked, then went out. It took twenty seconds or so for the generators to kick in, and the lights were less bright. Gabe’s voice filled his ear. “Hacking security grid. Perimeter is down.”
Sam woke with a start. He was curled up on the soft pad in the cage, with Dean sleeping on the cold metal floor not far away. If he could feel beyond the numbness that had settled over him, he might be guilty for it.
There was no way to tell the time, or how long they’d been allowed to sleep. He’d lost all concept of day or night. He shivered, though the cage wasn’t cold and shifted up to sit, arranging himself so that his hurting ass was as comfortable as he could make it. Dean came for him…Dean gave himself to James…to Master James to save Sam.
Only Sam could only think of all of the fucking he’d endured…how they’d pounded him over and over…how he’d begged for it to stop…even when he swore he would be strong.
Strong.
Sam lowered his head onto his bent knees. It had taken them months to break Dean. Months and making him believe his family was gone. Sam had folded in less than four days. How much more had Dean endured? How much more…and yet, he came back…he gave himself up. All in some vain attempt to save Sam…to lead his father to them.
“Sam?” Dean’s voice was not even a whisper, but Sam looked at him, blinking away the tears.
He nodded and looked away, swallowing the fear. “You should sleep.”
“Can’t.”
Dean sat up. “It’s hard. I know.”
“I let them hurt Caleb.”
Dean shook his head. Sam wanted him to hold him…touch him…make it better, like when they were kids. “No Sam. You did good.”
Sam couldn’t stop the tears now. “No,…I gave up…I…I couldn’t take it…” He gave in to make it stop, even knowing Dean had come for him…gave in, knowing Robert would own him, use him…anything to stop the devastating rape and beatings.
Dean moved closer, his hand wiping at Sam’s cheek and pulling back. “You did exactly what I needed you to, Sammy. I could only help you once you…were brought here. You did good. You did the right thing.”
Sam was shaking again. His body hurt in ways he’d never felt before, more than that he’d thought…he could handle it…thought he could just close it off and forget it…but he kept feeling Robert’s hands in the van…the gentle, loving caress, even as he fucked Sam hard…kept picturing Robert with tears in his eyes. Their father wasn’t going to make it…he didn’t have what it took…He wouldn’t get past his revulsion of what they both had become…and Sam would belong to Robert…and Dean would be sold…and it was all for nothing… “Robert…he’s waiting. He’s going to take me away.”
The hurt on Dean’s face was intense and he touched Sam’s knee. If Master saw, they would both be in trouble. Sam lowered his eyes at the thought. “Mine, Sam.” Dean’s voice cracked a little.
Sam nodded, though he wasn’t sure he could believe it right now.
“You should sleep. The next few hours will be hard on you.”
Sam let Dean lay him down. “When the lights are on, we’ll go to the bathroom again and prepare. I’ll help you. It will be okay. We’ll both be good and pretend and they’ll come for us. You’ll see.”
Sam closed his eyes and tried not to feel lost inside the pain and humiliation…tried not to watch Dean lay down on the cold metal floor and close his eyes as if he’d just crawled into a soft bed.
He didn’t want to think that his father wouldn’t come…but he hadn’t come for Dean. Only Sam had done that. Sam had gone through hell to find him and save him from the unlocked cage. Sam sat up. Unlocked.
He stared at the door. Stared and couldn’t bring himself to try it. He would know. Sam was still staring at it when the lights came on sometime later. Dean sat up and nodded at Sam. “Can you walk?” Sam shrugged and got to his knees, then let Dean help him to his feet. He nodded when his legs held him and Dean led him out and into the bathroom. Dean peed and moved aside for Sam.
“Aren’t you gonna…” Sam looked at the toilet.
Dean patted his belly. “Can’t. Not yet.” There was a wink and Sam didn’t understand, but he nodded and turned to take care of his own body.
They had nearly finished, Dean had shaved himself and was shaving Sam when the lights went out. Dean’s hand stopped before he could hurt Sam and they both turned to the door. “We go to the mat and wait.” Dean whispered, wiping Sam’s face with a towel. It was a good thing Sam’s beard didn’t grow like Dean’s.
Dean felt panic creeping through him as he led Sam through the hall and into the main room, urging him to his knees on the rubber mat beside Master’s chair. “Knees apart, ankles crossed, hands in your lap,” he said softly. The lights flickered on again and Master James appeared, looking uncharacteristically rumbled in a bathroom, his hair sleep mussed. His eyes snapped to Sam and Dean, then around the room.
“Attend me.” James said to Dean. “You, stay there. I will inspect you when I am done.”
Dean managed a soft touch to the side of Sam’s thigh as he stood and followed James from the room to assist him with his own morning ritual. He remembered this. Holding his towel while he showered, his mirror while he shaved, his clothes while he dressed. As James took his jacket from Dean he nodded. “Return to the mat. I will be out shortly.”
A few tense seconds passed. “Primary building is secure. All teams report for entry when in position.” John and started his team forward, moving rapidly into the compound, cutting through the fencing and fanning out. All around them there were rapid bursts of fire. “Secondary building secure. Teams 5 and 6, you have a go.”
He raised his gun as three guards came out of the shadows of the building, firing mindlessly as he continued to move. To his left someone else was firing too. All three men fell and John paused as they passed them to put a bullet into each head to make sure. They didn’t have long before they would start to respond and start working to retake control of their grid. “All teams, proceed to primary targets.” Ellen’s voice said and John gave the nod to his lead.
“Control, this is Team W. Ready at our injection target.”
“Roger Team W.” There was a click and a thud. “Team W is go for injection.”
John realized he was holding his breath and let it out slowly. All he had to do was get his boys out. All he had to do is hope they were okay.
Dean was kneeling when the lights went down a second time and James came out of the bedroom quickly, reaching for the phone. He cursed and hung it up, then went to the door of the suite. He was gone for a few minutes and Dean glanced at Sam. “This is it.”
Sam looked at him funny, then at the door. “Dad?” The suite was lit only by a handful of dull emergency lights, battery operated back ups that did little to eliminate the dark.
Dean nodded, then his face went back to the dull expression of a slave as Master James returned, a couple of armed men and Robert in tow. James grabbed Robert and shoved him into a wall. “You know…you have been nothing but trouble since the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“This isn’t my fault.” Robert said. “I’ve been here since we brought Sam in. I haven’t gone anywhere, haven’t spoken to anyone.”
James released him and stepped back a pace. “I don’t care if you brought them here yourself or not, Robert. This is your mess. Mr. Gorlian is not going to be pleased.”
“No.” Robert said, holding up both hands. “I did my part. You’ve got him.” He pointed at Dean. “All broken and trained and ready to sell for twice what you got Sam to pay for him. Hell, he came back to you because you programmed him so well. That’s gotta be worth something, right?”
James glared at him, then turned to look at Dean. He could feel those eyes, the bubbling fury…he knew what that fury could do to him. “You know…it’s possible I underestimated him.” James was walking back toward Dean. “Did I, slave? Is there something I should know?”
Dean didn’t lift his eyes. “No, sir.” He tried not to hyperventilate because it was a lie, and when Master found out, it was going to cost him.
His hand was under Dean’s chin, lifting his face. “I assumed that you would never willingly come back to me unless the programming was intact. Perhaps I should test that theory.”
Dean didn’t move. Never flinch James starred at him for the longest time, then let go of him. “Morris, bring the rack.”
One of the men disappeared into a different room and returned with the presentation rack. He set it up in the center of the room. “Very good. Now, Morris, you and your partner go find out what’s going on…and see if you can get the phone lines up, I’d like to have a vehicle prepared for immediate departure.”
He didn’t look to see that he was obeyed, only reached out a hand to fist in Sam’s hair, yanking him up and dragging him to the rack. Dean’s heart sank, but he didn’t move. James shoved Sam’s feet into the cuffs, then stretched his arms out to the ends of the rack, forcing Sam to bend forward as his hands were shackled to the frame.
“Maybe you can keep quiet. Maybe you can’t. Tell me what I want to know, or he pays the price.” James went to the mantle and pulled a knife off the wall. “I will make him bleed, slave. I will cut him. Is there something you should tell me?”
Dean was frozen to the spot, couldn’t move or speak…couldn’t think beyond the light on the blade and the bruised expanse of Sam’s back. James was swift, a long red line drawn over purple skin, the blood wet and shiny in the pale light of the emergency lighting. Sam didn’t make a sound, but his body quivered.
Two, then three cuts marked Sam’s skin. Then a fourth, and it was Robert who spoke, not Dean.
“Stop. Just…Let me take him and go. Deal with the other one anyway you want…but stop.”
James turned to look at him. “You dare give me orders? Do you remember boy? Do you remember what you are?”
Robert drew himself up with a deep breath and shook his head. “Not anymore. I gave you him.” He pointed at Dean. “You never wanted me anyway. It was all a ploy to get more information so you could find ones who suited you.”
James’s knife swept through the air and cut open Robert’s shirt, then the tip traced the delicate scar in the shape of a “J” over Robert’s heart. “You are Nothing. No one. Alone…Just like them. You don’t give me orders.”
Robert’s face was pale when his eyes flicked to Dean’s. He wasn’t sure what he saw in them…panic, fear…desire…a need…Dean swallowed as he realized Robert wanted his help. Help.
The door to the suite opened and Morris fell into it, kicking the door closed. “We’re under attack…Jahns is down…the floor is locked down…”
“You’re bleeding on my floor.” James said dryly. Dean could see the irritation in his stride as he crossed to Morris. “How many?”
“Don’t know sir. They’re coming this way.”
“Fuck!” James stood and found himself faced with the barrel of a gun. “Come now Robert, we both know you don’t have the balls to use that.”
“I don’t think you know me as well as you might like to.” Robert said. “Dean. Get your brother out of that contraption.”
Dean looked at James, then at Robert. “Now!”
Sam was still shaking, whimpering as Dean’s hands slid down his legs to the cuffs and pushed the release, slowly moving Sam’s legs together until he was standing. “Stand down, slave.” James warned. “Leave him and come to me.”
Dean’s hands fell to his side and he looked up at James. Do as Master says without hesitation.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice was cracked and broken and it cut through to him. “You came for me, Dean,” he whispered. Dean fought the need to please master and concentrated on the need to take care of Sam. His Sam.
His hands sought out the straps at Sam’s wrists and eased Sam upright slowly. “My Sam,” he whispered in Sam’s ear. Sam shuddered as the new wounds in his back made contact with Dean’s skin.
“Good, now bring him here. We’re leaving.”
No. That wasn’t how this was supposed to work. They stumbled forward until they were close enough that Robert could reach them. “That’s my boy, come on Sammy.” Robert held the gun with one hand and Sam’s waist with the other and moved toward the door. They were nearly at the door when it exploded open, sending them sprawling and making Dean jump.
There was smoke and noise and confusion…then Dean was being dragged, James’s fist in his hair, pulling him toward the bedroom, the knife still in his hand. Dean kicked and fought, more to see Sam than in rebellion. Sam had to be okay. Sam had to be safe. Then James hurled him into the room and into the wall and everything got a little fuzzy.
“Get Winchester in here!” a voice rang out.
Sam tried to lift his head, tried to function. Everything seem tinted in red and there were men and no Dean. “Dean?” He pulled himself away from the swirling colors…moved to hide…he shouldn’t be seen…He dragged an uncooperative leg and cowered behind the chair. Dean was gone. Robert…he was…Sam dared a look, but instead of Robert, he saw his father, filling the hole where once the door had been.
He closed his eyes, folded into himself. No….no….Sam had to make it good…make himself okay…pretend nothing happened…he could pretend…He looked again, saw his father scanning the room…No…he couldn’t. Sam bit off the sob and tried to breathe out…but his lungs didn’t seem to work anymore and his head was screaming…but he’d come for them…and Sam wasn’t sure what that meant…or how to react…but the blood seeping from his hairline and the knot from where the exploding door had caught him took all the options away, dropping him out of his confusion and into a soft darkness.
