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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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."

"I don't know, but if you need it, I'll figure something out!" He couldn't help the slightly exasperated tone, not at her, but...

"You tell them what you can, Dean. How they picked you up... you don't have to tell them everything. You're not the first person to disappear around here." But not everyone had a brother who tracked them down, who'd-- yeah, okay, there were problems all over, but...

"I'm not seeing a choice here, dude."

She flinched at his tone and sighed, sinking back down to curl up on her side. The frightening thing was, she was pretty sure she couldn't get away without Sam's help. Not in the shape she was in.

"I shouldn't have been stupid enough to get caught," she mumbled, biting at her bottom lip.

"You were trying to do your job, Dean," he muttered. "I shouldn't have let you go alone. I'm supposed to have your back and I didn't. I'm-- sorry. I can't even imagine what you went through..."

Or what it was like to have to deal with it after. This wasn't a monster... it was some sick fucks who did it for kicks, who just got off on hurting people apparently.

"It's not your fault." She didn't blame him. It had been her bright idea to go alone. Sam argued against it. "Sorry I didn't listen to you."

God, she didn't know how she was going to sleep without the drugs keeping her down. Every time she closed her eyes, she thought about that cellar and how she'd nearly died there. Fucking humans.

"You didn't know either. It's not your fault." He let out another irritated sigh before finally reaching over, resting a hand on the side of her face lightly, carefully. "Just-- listen to me next time, huh?"

His tone was softer though. Didn't matter what the situation was, she was still alive, still here with him, and he was grateful for that at least. "You're okay now, Dean. I'm not going to let anything else hurt you."

Much as she liked being the one in control, the one taking care of everything, she didn't have that option here and he was going to do his damnedest to get her better.

Dean's throat tightened up and she just nodded, holding the back of a hand to her eyes to press back tears. Not. Gonna. Cry.

"Dean... hey," he breathed, watching the way she tried to hold her hand up to her eyes. Easy to tell what she was about to do and after a moment or so, his hand was slipping around to cup the back of her head as he leaned in. He wasn't going to dare hug her with those wounds on her back, but... "It's okay. It'll be okay."

When he cupped the back of her head, she slid her free arm around his neck and curled in against him. It wasn't a proper hug, sure, but she could lean against his chest and hide her face against the side of his neck. And maybe if his skin got a little damp, he wouldn't mind too much.

He let her lean however she wanted, hold on if that's what she wanted. He knew better than to point out any dampness he felt anyway... Dean would be pissed enough he was crying, let alone Sam harping on it. For now, he just sat there and held her close, quiet for the time being... because what could he really say?

Dean appreciated the quiet moments, even if it made the sharp, jerky breaths she took even more pronounced. When she'd calmed down, she stayed resting against him.

"I'm scared, Sam," she whispered, almost inaudible against his skin. "I don't want to be here. Too many strangers around."

"Dean..." He let out a reluctant noise. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, but come on, give it until tomorrow and--I'll see if I can get you out of here. Okay?" He doubted the doctors would want to release her this soon, but... he could try.

"Don't act so frustrated with me, Sam! I'm not making your life difficult on purpose!" She pulled away and shifted away from him, laying back down on her side. Served her right for being honest, she supposed. She and Sam had a good thing going with constantly pretending everything was okay when it wasn't.

"Forget it. It's fine. I'll stay."

"What--" He looked bewildered a moment as she pulled away and turned her back on him. He stood away from he bed, eyes narrowing a little bit. "Dean, I'm not... Look at me, dude, I'm not frustrated with you. I'm just... I want to help you."

Now he was frustrated, though not entirely with her. More with himself. "I just don't want you leaving here before we know what's going on, Dean... You know what shape you were in! You scared the crap out of me when I found you, Dean... the whole time I kept thinking you could've been dead or something, and I--"

Shit. He just wanted to make sure she was okay...

Dean listened to him, slowly raising her eyes to look at him. Every time he sighed, frowned, or rolled his eyes, she wanted to punch herself. She felt helpless, small, and burdensome. Dean bit her lip hard and swallowed, looking at him quietly for a minute.

"You really want a way to help me?"

"You know I do, Dean..." He tilted his head, returning that look. "I just want you to be okay."

She nodded slowly and shifted on the hospital bed, moving as far to one side as she could. Then patted the empty space with one bandaged hand. "Sit with me?"

He moved to settle in next to her then, carefully putting an arm around her shoulders as he leaned in, kissing her temple after. "Okay, Dean. I'm here."

[LJ Meme] Random Scenarios: Angst/Torture

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