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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"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.

He rolled his eyes at the whining. "Think of it as payback for all the times you had to feed me." Well, technically, he'd been a baby when Dean had to do that, but... whatever. He reached up to gently try to guide her hands away so he could see her face.

"... Dean, come on, man." He hesitated. "Tell me what I can do." He wanted to help somehow.

Dean was lucky she couldn't see Sam rolling his eyes, as on edge as she was. She'd either flip out or cry. Neither of which she was really interested in doing at the moment.

She let him guide her hands away and reluctantly looked up at him, jaw clenched to keep it from wobbling. She was not going to cry, god damnit. Slowly, she struggled to sit up and lean back against the pillows, putting as little weight on her back as she could.

"Alright. If you... want to..." She shrugged, not quite looking him in the eye.

He let out a sigh before reaching for the spoon to help her eat, frowning deeply. He didn't mind helping her, didn't mind taking care of her, but she shouldn't be this bad off to begin with...

"I do, Dean, c'mon. If the soup sucks, I might even let you have a bite or two off the sandwich I got."

She bit her lip at his sigh and nodded. It didn't really cross her mind that he might be concerned about something other than how aggravating it was going to be, looking after an invalid sister.

The soup was cold by now. Plain and boring to begin with. It was that way on purpose, supposedly to be easy on the stomach of someone who hadn't eaten in a while. Dean wasn't paying enough attention to really taste it anyway. She was trying to remain zoned out to not have to think about it or anything else.

"Does anything hurt too much? I could see if the nurses will give you something..." Anything to make it easier. He knew she had to be uncomfortable still, after the beatings she'd taken.

"You need to rest. The quicker you start to recover, the sooner we can get out of here and some place more comfortable."

"Everything hurts," she mumbled and shrugged, glancing over at him again. She was sure she had boot prints on her in places. The bruises weren't as bad as the itching, stinging, burning pain across her back where the skin had split open under wire lashes.

"I'll stay tonight, but... I really want to leave tomorrow, Sam. I don't wanna stay here. I want to be off the map somewhere. Too many cops and doctors involved here." Dean had never quite shaken the mistrust of authority figures Dad drilled in at an early age. Cops and hospitals equaled trouble.

"Dude, you heard what they said about your hands... about everything," he protested, putting aside the bowl of soup and spoon as he shifted to face her, brows furrowed.

"You think I want the cops involved here any more than you do? But you need help, Dean... maybe more than you can get sitting on Bobby's couch watching bad TV and that seems to be what you're wanting to do here." It wasn't like Dean could stay on the road like this, not when she could barely lean back.

"Yeah, I heard..." She sighed and shook her head. "How're we going to pay for a hospital stay and surgery, Sam? You don't think they're going to notice there's something not right about those credit cards?"

"And what am I supposed to tell the cops about what happened to me?" She looked down at her hands and frowned. "They're still out there."

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