beerpieandguns | [LJ Meme] Random Scenarios: Angst/Torture

The minute that Dean went mention, anything else just... kind of ceased to matter to Sam. The most prominent, the most important thing was finding his sister, hunting down whoever took her. It was kind of difficult to do when he had zero to go on that made much sense. There had been disappearances over the years... usually one or two girls here and there. But there wasn't one specific area they disappeared from. It seemed like all over around the area though. They weren't taken fro one specific spot.

But what they did have in common that they were young, they were attractive.

And he really shouldn't have listened to Dean's insistence on doing the scouting alone, doing any work on this stupid fucking case alone.

But it was done and all Sam could do was keep pushing himself and work, find something, anything. His drive was doubled-- he slept the minimal he could, barely ate more than would keep up his strength because the rest of the time, he was interviewing the families of the other victims or digging up what he could at libraries or on the computers.

Any source he had at hand, he was using.

It was just by chance that he found a lead and some hope. Someone who'd seen someone who looked an awful lot like his sister after so long questioning everyone he could think of. They'd seen her being carried into some truck. From there, he managed to track the info he did have to some place out by itself, on its own expansive land, surrounded by trees, and far away from any prying eyes.

His stomach turned when he realized that they were humans. They were just humans. Humans who were twisted fucks that got off on doing God knows what to their victims. Yeah, next time he had a bad feeling about something, Dean was going to damn well listen to him.

All in all, they were humans and Sam had been trained to take on monsters and demons. He could definitely handle other people attacking him, especially with the thought of Dean suffering at their hands. Sam couldn't even handle the thought of her already being dead, of losing the last of his family, so he didn't let himself consider it as he searched the house, eventually making his way down into some dark, cold cellar.

He had his flashlight out, nursing some bruises and cuts from the earlier fight, a bullet grazing across his shoulder... but he was alive and the guys upstairs were in a hell of a lot worse shape than him. "Dean!" He called out, walking down the steps, voice frantic and rough from the earlier fight.

When he saw her, his stomach sunk. He rushed to her side, reaching out to take her face in his hands to try and get her to focus, look at him. "Dean... look at me. Please-- Dean," he murmured, tone anxious, pleading.

Fever, hunger, hypothermia, shock... or any mix of the above had Dean jerking weakly away from the hands grabbing at her. She kicked out with one offt, uncoordinated and off target. She missed him by several inches, the motion jerking at her cuffed wrists and reopening the wounds, making them bleed sluggishly.

"Get th' fuck off me," she slurred, not quite focusing on Sam's face.

He winced when she tried to attack, but she was too weak to do any damage anyway. Crap... those assholes. He didn't want to hurt her, but he had to take her hands to work those cuffs off, making a soft, shushing noise. "It's me, Dean, Sam. It's Sam, okay?"

There was no way he was going to be able to fix her up at a motel. He knew that. He'd probably have to take her to a hospital. Didn't even know how he'd explain all this, but that didn't matter. "Gonna get you some help, okay? You're going to be okay."

It took a second for the gentle words and soft tone to penetrate her panicked haze. She blinked slowly, trying to focus on his face. "Sammy?"

Sam wasn't... supposed to be here. He could get hurt if he was here, but she'd been hoping to see him, hadn't she? God, she was confused. She whimpered softly as he worked the cuffs off, skin raw and bloody where she'd jerked at them. She barely felt it now, as cold as she was, but when she warmed up it was going to hurt like hell.

"Yeah, it's me... Dean, I know you're hurt, okay? But- but I don't know how many of these assholes there are," he murmured. "I don't want to get caught by any more of'em, okay?"

The couple he'd ran into already had been enough and it left a sick feeling in his stomach that there could even be more, but... he wasn't ruling it out. Slipping off his jacket, he eased it around Dean as he went to pick her up. They had to be quick and that's all he could do. "Gonna be okay, alright? Going to take care of you."

For the most part, Dean didn't really understand what Sam was saying. She did understand that they were in trouble and he needed her to be quiet and she did the best she could with that, although any motion that jarred her arms or back wrenched a strangled sound from her.

When he picked her up, she slumped against him, trying to stay awake. Wanted to tell him to be careful and not to get hurt because of her, but she couldn't make the words happen.

He didn't want to hurt her and honestly, he didn't know the extent of her injuries. They looked bad, from what he could see in the dim light of his flashlight, but... he couldn't let that stop him from moving her when time was wasting.

So he just hoped she could bare with him a little while longer. He'd take care of her... make sure she was okay soon. First, he had to get out of this house and down the road to where he'd parked the Impala, nice and out of the way. "Shh, gonna be okay," he murmured as he moved--quick and quiet as he could.

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