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

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[rp partner] helosthisshoe

[LJ Meme] Random Scenarios: Angst/Torture

Dean had said it before and she'd say it again. Humans, man. It was one thing for a supernatural beastie to go around killing and maiming people, but it was something else entirely for people to be behind it all. Worst thing was, she hadn't had a chance to warn Sam before they got the drop on her. No way to tell him what he was up against. That was assuming he ever actually found her.

No more solo scouting missions. Stupid, stupid fucking thing to do.

God, it was cold. She was in a cellar of some kind. Dark, windowless. The cinder block wall she was chained to was like ice against her bare skin. Her wrists throbbed where the cuffs cut into them and she couldn't feel her fingers any longer. Her bare back was bruised and torn. Her jeans were stained brown with the blood that had soaked in and dried. When they were allowed to remain dry. The bastards liked to douse her with icy water from time to time and watch her shiver.

The water was infinitely preferable to the other various substances she's had thrown at her since she'd been down here... god, how long now?... and the various groping. Hell, at this point, she was just thrilled to still have jeans on.

When she managed to stay conscious, she thought about Sam. Missed him. Occasionally found herself with her throat getting tight and heat in her face. Wouldn't cry, though. Not giving them the satisfaction.

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She leaned into the touch of his hand, glad for it and kind of embarrassed. She was filthy. Could feel it from head to toe and still smelled the scent of the cellar on her. God, she wanted a shower so bad, it wasn't even funny.

She frowned and shook her head slightly at that apology. Sam looked so miserable. "It's not your fault, Sammy. I know you did everything you could. S'okay."

He wanted to protest, but all he did was tighten his jaw, purse his lips and bite back on the desire. Dean'd spend more time worrying over him if he moped around, so that meant he'd have to just nod along for now. Needed to get her better and out of here. "Sure the nurses will be in soon to check on you..."

For a moment, she was afraid Sam was going to turn on his heel and walk out. Her hand reached for him, even though she couldn't grab hold. "Sit with me, please?"

He took her hand back in his and shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean." And just to prove to her, he settled back down in the chair he'd moved to the side of the bed, keeping his hand on hers lightly.

"You... uh. okay?" He wasn't expecting more than the 'fine' he usually got, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to ask.

"Yeah, I'm alright..." She smiled a little and settled back comfortably into the bed. "A little rough around the edges, maybe."

In truth, she felt like she'd been run over by an eighteen wheeler, but Sam looked worried enough as it was. The lack of motion in her hands was the most worrying thing, though. If she couldn't use her hands, she couldn't hunt. She'd be useless.

He rubbed his thumb lightly over her palm, giving her a smile in return. "You'll be fine, you know. I'll make sure of it."

Whether or not Dean bitched about him trying to take care of her or not.

"I figured you might." As terrible as Dean was at being taken care if, it kinda felt good to hear it this time. She was wrecked and if not for Sam, she didn't know what she'd do.

Not too long after, her doctor arrived to talk about her treatment. She'd suffered an array of cuts and tears to the skin of her back, some internal injuries, and was malnourished and dehydrated. Worst among the injures was extensive nerve damage in her wrists and hands from the cuffs. They were hopeful that the injuries would heal with time and rest, but if she didn't regain the motion in her hands, surgery might be necessary.

All Dean wanted to know was, when could she leave?

Sam stuck around in the room to talk with the doctor when he came in, if only to try and reassure any worries because she'd be fine. He'd see to it. And he cringed inwardly when the doctors wanted to keep her for at the very least a couple days-- they had her on fluids for dehydration and medicine for any pain she had. And he kind of hoped she didn't make a fuss or insist on leaving anyway...

He knew it'd be for the best if she stayed, even if he kind of wanted to leave, get them some place quiet where they could rest in peace. When they were alone again finally, he looked over at her, trying to give a reassuring smile as he squeezed her hand gently in his. "When you're out... we can go to Bobby's or something, if you want," he offered quietly. Didn't know where Dean would be most comfortable, really, but jumping from motel to motel probably wasn't going to be it.

"We should just go, Sammy. Cops are gonna wanna ask questions sooner or later and our credit cards won't hold out long with this kind of expense." She hated hospitals. Hated being observed, poked, and prodded. Wanted to get out and curl up somewhere to lick her wounds and pretend everything was a-okay.

She glanced over at her brother hopefully. "C'mon, we've sneaked out of tighter jams than this. Let's just bolt..."

He hesitated at that, frowning. Yeah, of course they could get out of it, but... "Dude, you heard the doctors." They'd clawed their way back from plenty of bad injuries, yeah, but he couldn't help but be kind of worried here.

"You need to rest, dude, not be on the road or living out of crappy motel rooms. Even Bobby's is still a good day away even if we got out of here and left by tonight..." And considering all the damage to her back? He doubted a car ride would be comfortable at all.

It had been worth a try, but Dean knew as soon as Sam heard the word 'surgery', he wasn't going to be game for an escape. She sighed and sank back into the mattress, curling up on her side and holding her hands to her chest. They ached. Hell, her whole body ached, but she didn't want another hit of those painkillers yet. Wasn't ready to be knocked out again.

"You gonna at least sneak me in some contraband? I'm starving and hospital food sucks..."

It wasn't something Sam wanted to play around with, not if it would end up hurting Dean more. Crap, she really shouldn't have been in this position to start with... if he hadn't been stupid enough to let her go off and scout on her own, if he'd been quicker about finding her, something. He let out a sigh.

"Yeah, we'll see, Dean... okay?"

She cringed at his sigh and closed her eyes, rethinking the whole 'sleep' thing now. "Okay."

His expression softened a little when he noticed that cringe and God, he didn't know what to do, but his hand started to stroke through her hair again lightly. "I'll get you something later when I go for a bite. How's a burger sound?"

He probably shouldn't and maybe he'd try to weasel out of it, but if it'd make her feel better... Didn't know what was going through her head right now exactly, but he's sure the prospect of surgery had her feeling bad enough.

Between all the confusion, drugs, and lingering fear, Dean's mind was a mess. She was struggling to think of ways to dodge it even though the idea of losing the function of her hands scared the hell out of her. And Sam's reactions had her confused, thinking maybe he was aggravated with the idea of having to take care of her that long. Not that she could blame him, really. Her own idiocy got her into this and now she was half helpless.

At least the hospital staff were getting paid to deal with her stupid ass.

"No big deal, Sammy." She murmured in answer to the question. "You should go get some sleep maybe. You look tired."

He wasn't-- frustrated with her. He was scared and worried... guilty because he didn't know what Dean would do if she couldn't use her hands, if they didn't recover. He didn't care about taking care of her, should have been doing it all along. should have had her back, dammit.

He shook his head stubbornly. "I'm fine, Dean. Don't worry about me."

He'd go out later, maybe, to grab some coffee. Give Bobby a call to fill him in on what was going on since... they probably wouldn't be taking any cases for awhile now. Knew he'd want an update anyway.

But that could be later. Right now, he was settling another quick kiss to her temple before settling back in his chair at her side.

She opened her eyes slowly and blinked at him, looking him over thoughtfully. He looked as bad as she felt. Figured he probably hadn't slept or eaten well since she was taken. Her instinct was to fix it, but there wasn't much she could do about it, right now. Not from a hospital bed.

They'd revisit the idea of bailing out when she was feeling stronger and felt like arguing.

"Do I look as bad as I think I do?"

He paused at that, looking back over at her before just giving a short shrug. "You look better than when I first found you."

She'd looked... awful, small and hurt. He'd seen Dean injured so many times, on the verge of death even, but it didn't get easier. And she had to be get better, he'd have to make sure of it, because he couldn't let the reason she might have serious issues to deal with now be because he'd been stupid enough to give in to her arguing and bitching about doing solo work on a case he'd had a bad feeling about from the start.

For a distraction from all that, he shifted and nodded towards the TV shoved up in the corner. "Want me to flip around?"

"Sure. Sounds good." She didn't really care what was on TV, but some background noise couldn't hurt. It would distract her from her stomach growling, anyway. She fumbled with her bandaged, braced hands and pulled the blankets up a bit more. All the better to disappear under.

"Okay..." He grabbed for the remote, flipping idly through the channels. He wasn't really in the mood to watch TV, didn't know how good his focus would be and eventually, he just left it on the first show he thought Dean would like to watch.

He'd wait until the nurses and staff came in to check on Dean to slip out for coffee and that call. Maybe grab something from the cafeteria to bring up that she could steal bites off of because, yeah, hospital food was pretty much crap.

Eventually, a pair of nurses arrived to check bandages and vitals. They shooed Sam out during the bandage work and when all the medical necessities were done, brought up an approved lunch tray for her. Of course, the majority of the meal was soup she couldn't hold the spoon for and a milk carton she couldn't open. Awesome.

She nibbled at the bread roll that came with the soup until she lost interest and buried herself in the blankets again, pulling them up over her head. As hard as she tried to tell herself not to, yeah, she was totally feeling sorry for herself right about now.

He came back as soon as he could with a small bag from the cafeteria and a cup of coffee. "Soup, huh?" He tried to keep his tone as light, as pleasant as he could even if he doubted she was in the mood for it. He didn't know what else to do.

"Yeah," she answered unenthusiastically from under the blankets. "Somebody in the hospital kitchen's a comedian." Not really, but she felt better about hating them if she could pretend it was intentional.

"You want me to help?" He offered, moving to the side of the bed and putting his own things down. "You really do need to eat."

And he was just going to reach over and try to tug those blankets back down to see her face.

"Don't wanna be fed like a baby," she whined unhappily, letting him pull down the covers. Her hands were over her face, though. She was miserable, hurting, and completely humiliated.

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