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Manipulation	By : unrequited666 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 7625 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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- 7
Warnings: bdsm, dark, non-con, sam whumping, slave, supernatural, violence, wincest (unrequited). Don�t like? Don�t read! No
flamers!

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Chapter Six

Dean was sure the universe was against him. It had been nearly four
days and he was nowhere closer to finding his brother than when Sam had first
been taken. He�d tried tracing the bastard�s phone call, utilising his and
Sam�s abundant stash of fake IDs. In return, he had been treated to the biggest
bunch of technobabble that he�d ever heard in his
whole life, (�hacked into the cell towers�, �rerouted the call signals�,
�signals are bouncing from cell tower to cell tower�), and he had heard his
fair share with a geek like Sammy for his brother. But essentially, the meaning
was the same. The call would be a bitch to trace and by the time it finally
was, Dean was sure the trail would�ve gone cold.

But just when he was
about to give up all hope, the smug bastard had decided to taunt him some more
and sent him co-ordinates (co-ordinates!).

When Dean got his hands
on this guy, he was going to enjoy ripping him apart, limb by limb.

***
Chris was really glad to
be putting the cabin in their rear view mirror. The stench of the corpse had
been starting to become unbearable. He took his eyes briefly off the road to
look at his passenger. Being on the road for so long, he hadn�t been able to
give Sam more of his �special brew�, but luckily it didn�t seem to be necessary
for now. His Sammy was so sensitive, both emotionally and physically. He just
hadn�t been able to shrug off his lethargy, sleeping for over ten hours
straight. Which suited Chris just fine. As long as he
recovered enough to have fun later tonight. He reached over and tousled the
sleeping boy�s hair. Sammy simply shifted and slept on.

***
When Sam was little, he
had been in a school play. It had been a fairly minor role (with only one
speaking line), but the little boy had been so excited that he had declared to
his amused father and brother that he would be an actor when he grew up.

As he grew older, the
ambition had whittled away, but the talent to be an actor had remained with him. Sam needed only widen his puppy
dog eyes, and he would have anyone � young or old, male or female, child or
adult � eating out of the palm of his hands, believing any story he felt like
spinning.

But now here he was,
with no script prepared for him, having to feign sleep, feign weakness while a
man who both scared and disgusted him felt him up. It was the hardest part he
had ever been asked to play. The cloud over his mind had been gone for a few
hours now, allowing him to think once again. Ignoring all the depressing
thoughts that had been swirling through his mind since he had been taken, Sam
instead focused on a single burning thought that gave him strength: Dean.

He was broken, he knew
that. But he was equally sure that Dean could fix him. Dean always fixed things
for him. Had done since they were kids. He just had to
get to him. Or at least make it easier for Dean to get to Sam.

All Sam was waiting for
now was the right opportunity.

***
The pungent smell
invading his senses was the first thing he noticed.

The body was next.

It lay on the ground in
a large puddle of congealed blood next to three� things.

Edging closer, Dean
realised they were a pair of eyeballs and� was that a tongue?

He swallowed back the
nausea.

What the hell happened here? Thought Dean, desperately hoping that his brother had been spared
the horrific sight. It was the kind of thing that would give the kid
nightmares for months on end, and Sam had too many nightmares already.

Dean turned away from
the body, trying to get control over his stomach. He didn�t have time to be
sick, not when Sammy was still missing.

As he'd done in the
penthouse suite, Dean searched the rest of the rooms first, leaving the bed for
last. As he expected, he found nothing in those rooms. With heavy eyes and a
heavy heart, he finally approached the bed. Restraints still hung from the
frame, taunting Dean, and the sheets were stained with blood and other fluids.
But there was something else on the bed too�

A snapshot of Sam; he
looked to be torn between pleasure and pain as his captor lent over him, touching
and kissing him.

Dean immediately dropped
the photo, as if burned, ignoring it as it fluttered to the ground. He closed
his eyes as he hung his head, trying to block out the sight of the room �
which, to his panicked and worn mind, seemed to mock him, taunting him with his
brother�s absence. He took deep breaths, trying to think, trying to
concentrate, but the pain and anger of seeing his brother reduced to the state
he was in was consuming Dean.

When he got Sam back,
how would he ever be able stand Dean�s presence, knowing of Dean�s
incompetence? Of Dean's inability to keep him safe?
That Dean wasn't someone Sam could depend on?

Of its own accord,
Dean�s mind flashed back over all his past failures in keeping Sam safe � the
earliest being the incident with the shritga �
cataloguing in painfully vivid detail each horrific failure over the years, up
to losing his brother to the yellow-eyed demon, even to death�

And now Dean had failed
to protect Sam from being raped� twice. He�d tried so hard, his very best, to
keep Sam safe, always being so careful with him, but his best wasn�t good
enough. Dean wiped away the silent tears that had trickled down his face. He couldn�t cry, he didn�t deserve to. All he could do now
was continue the hunt for his brother and wait to see if his brother could ever
forgive him. Because God forbid, Dean knew that if he was Sam, he wouldn�t
forgive Dean either.

He took a steadying
breath and opened his eyes. The photo was still lying innocently on the floor
where Dean had dropped it. But now it was lying
face-down. And there appeared to be something written on the back.

He immediately snatched
it up with shaking hands.

Three words were written
on the back. �Run, Forest, Run!� (*A/N Forest Gump reference for those who don�t know)�

Before he had could
fathom the meaning of the cryptic message, a voice rang out from outside,
obviously amplified by the use of a speakerphone �Dean Winchester! FBI! We have
you surrounded!�

Dean closed his eyes. That. Fucking. Bastard.

TBC

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Manipulation