Chapter Text
The door slammed and Sam collapsed onto the end of his bed, head in hands. He couldn’t even explain what this last argument was about really; it seemed to be just the usual anguish filled bickering that had dominated their relationship since Dean’s miraculous return from Hell. Sam couldn’t deny things had been a hundred times worse since the Siren had messed with both of their heads, but he still naively held out hope that they could return to how they were before hellhounds had dragged Dean, and his reason for existing, into the Pit.
The rumble of the Impala answered his internal question of whether Dean had gone for air or for the night.
Sam sucked in a shuddering breath and headed for the bathroom, deciding a shower and a not so early night (it was gone 11 already) was all he had to look forward to.
He turned the shower on - allowing it to heat up whilst he got undressed - before stepping into the spray. Sam loved showers. He knew it was wrong and wasteful to hog hot water the way he did, but the momentary relief it brought him from the endless sense of feeling unclean was selfishly worth it. For a small window in time, he felt cleansed of everything that made him feel no better than the monsters they hunted.
Sam sat in the bottom of the bath, allowing the scalding water to rain down on him until his skin turned pink and the steam became suffocating, wishing he could break through the invisible barrier that seemed to have grown between him and Dean.
He was ecstatic that Dean was back. He’d wanted nothing more than Dean to be saved from damnation, even if it meant Sam’s own soul being cast down. So why couldn’t Sam just act like it for five minutes? Why did he stupidly let Dean’s need to take charge bother him so much? Sam pleaded with his stubborn brain to just let it go next time Dean pulled rank over him. Theoretically he would willing do anything Dean asked him to because it meant Dean was back. So why couldn’t his brain get with the program and do it in reality?
Lost in his self-berating thoughts, the water had begun to cool when Sam finally stood up to wash himself. Climbing out of the now off shower, he squeezed the excess water out of his hair, before drying himself and pulling on a clean pair of boxers.
Opening the door, Sam had barely crossed into the main room when a weird buzzing filled the air followed by a blazing hot agony in his side that sent him crumpling to the floor in a mess of spasming limbs
Sam scarcely had chance to catch his breath when the cattle prod struck again and he was hit with further convulsions.
His attackers took advantage of his incapacitation, rolling him onto his front before three straddled his body, pinning him down with ease. As two trapped his legs, the one sat on his back pulled Sam’s head back by his hair with one hand and used the other hand to hold Sam’s face still so that a forth attacker could attach a thick strip of duct tape over his mouth. Back guy then pushed Sam’s head face down onto the carpet, keeping him in place with both hands tight around Sam’s throat.
Sam understood those hands would choke him if he dared move, but when someone began to pull at the elastic of his underwear, panic took over. Sam barely had chance to cry out and attempt to buck himself free before the hands tightened like a noose. The owner of the hands bent forward and Sam realised the guy was laughing. In fact everyone in the room seemed to find Sam’s reaction hilarious.
‘Oh pretty boy,’ mocked back guy ‘that’s not what this is about, so you just calm yourself. Okay?’
Sam nodded and, through sheer will, stilled his shaking body. Back guy stayed in his position leaning over Sam, but the hands around his neck relaxed a little, allowing Sam to draw air more easily.
Gagger produced a hypodermic, pulled Sam’s boxers down enough to reveal his hip, then brutally stabbed the needle in, plunging the contents into Sam’s body.
In the few seconds that nothing seemed to happen back guy whispered in Sam’s ear ‘doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to get a taste of you later though’. Sam’s eyes widened in horror at the confession but all sense was overridden as a blazing pain blossomed at the injection site, spreading outwards, both paralysing and burning as it went. The torturous sensation built throughout Sam’s body as it was carried along by his blood, until Sam couldn’t help but scream into the tape covering his mouth.
He could feel his hands and feet being tied together but could do nothing to fight off the inevitability of his kidnapping. Every tender nerve in his wrists & ankles throbbed as the pressure of the bindings reignited the effect of whatever drug they’d dosed him with.
As it built into a crescendo having reached his brain, Sam was grateful that the suffering was finally enough to allow him to blackout. He welcomed the sweet relief of nothingness, no longer caring that he may not come back if it meant he could escape the torturous fire rushing through his veins.