Rating: R - Gen - hurt!Dean - hurt!Sam - power!sam
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: (S4) Sam POV. Sam is on one of the most famous 'Most Wanted' lists of all time, and eventually some of the beasts looking for him start to catch up.
Sam bit down hard on the icy cold double burger with cheese and tried not to stare at the empty seat opposite him.
“Would you like some more coffee?” the waitress asked. “Just brewed a new pot.”
“No thanks,” Sam mumbled. “Just the check.”
“You got it.”
He watched her leave and forced another bite of the sandwich he didn’t even want. It was out of pure spite really. Sam had already eaten a tuna melt and a plate of fries and ordered the stupid burger because Dean should have come in by now to eaten it himself. Sam thought he was being real smart with the preemptive order of a burger to hurry things up. Fighting in the car had put them three hours behind and he didn’t want to get to Texas after dawn.
Sam shook his head and pulled out another clump of raw onions from under the bun.
Their fight had more like an all out brawl. Dean had almost pulled over twice just to free his hands to start swinging.
“Your friend is back,” the waitress pointed through the tinsel hanging in the windows. "Hope you boys aren't planning on using the interstate."
A glance out the window reconfirmed the surprise that the car had actually returned and was parked out in the corner of the parking lot. Not too many other cars out there with the late night crowd but it was the only one out there with the engine running, the muffler clouding behind it with the heavy fall of snow. Sam tossed down the sandwich with a sigh as he realized Dean was going to put that up on the list now too: Wasted gas for heat while Sam stuffed his fucking giant face. They hadn’t fought quite that loud and quite that long in a good long while. It was the kind of fight that Sam had been left behind state lines to find his own way to the next stop kind of fight. It was also the kind of fight that could end real fast if his brother got bored of fucking around with radio stations and called a truce long enough to eat.
Not this time though.
“You have a real nice night now,” her smile turned real when she saw the tip Sam left. “And look out for the Staties tonight, hon They’ve been handing out tickets like Christmas cards.”
Sam nodded in thanks and pushed open the door. He swore out loud when the wind hit him full in the face. His nose went numb before he even got down the stairs and his hands were already freezing in his pockets. Hurrying his pace towards the car he deliberated on what it was that he was going to say.
The fight had been pretty stupid as far as most fights went.
Sam wasn’t sure how it all got started but all sense of decorum went flying out the window as soon as he’d mentioned Ruby. Crunching through the snow he suddenly wanted to storm up to the car and start up where they’d loudly left off. But the chance to get some dinner and rest had taken most of the bite out of him. All he really wanted now was to just get on the road and maybe even offer up some kind of apology if that was what Dean wanted. As he got closer to the car he started to wish he’d taken some of the leftover burger wrapped in a napkin. Like some gesture of good will so they didn’t even have to talk at all. Dean would eat, then he would drive and in an hour or so one of them would say something about the shitty weather and they could act like everything was fine.
Sam paused when he reached the passenger side. Gripping the freezing door handle, he took a deep breath and decided to not to prolong the agony. To his relief it was toasty warm in the car, the heat on full blast and the radio on real low playing the Stones.
The cold metal of the gun pressed under his chin silenced him immediately.
It wasn’t his brother behind the wheel. It was a man Sam had never seen before. Oddly enough, he noticed that the stranger was wearing his brother’s jacket before he saw the coal black of his large glistening eyes.
Sam clenched his jaw as he heard someone shift in the backseat behind him.
“So this is Sam Winchester,” another man said. “Lucky me.”
“Who are you?” Sam didn’t turn around. He was on one of the most famous ‘most wanted’ lists out there and there were all sorts of people doing their best to find him first. “What do you want?”
“My name is Gregor,” he told him. “And I have everything I want.”
The muzzle of the gun eased off a little and Sam understood that the man in the back was the real problem and not the driver. Sam narrowed his eyes as he realized the armed man beside him didn’t only have Dean’s jacket, he was wearing Dean's necklace too. The silent man even vaguely resembled his brother in a strangely emaciated way. But Sam could tell this thing holding the weapon was some kind of pet or servant, and that made whatever was lounging in the backseat a demon.
A powerful one.
“You’re a difficult little half-breed to find, Sam Winchester,” the man sat back with a satisfied sigh. “But not impossible like they all keep saying.”
For some reason all Sam could think about was how damn cold it was outside and Dean didn’t have his jacket.
“I asked you a question," Sam wondered if the gun in the glove compartment would help him at all. "What the hell do you want?"
"And I told you."
A small sound of disapproval came from behind him as a brush of cold fingertips laid gently on the back of his neck. “It’s time to prioritize, Sam. Your brother is all taken care of.”
Sam’s hand was slick with sweat on the door handle.
“Don’t try to run,” the driver finally spoke, its voice harsh and used. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Sam’s chest was heaving. Dean had only been gone less than a hour. So much could happen in one goddamn hour.
He stilled as the body in the backseat sat forward, sliding across the leather to slowly wrap two arms around Sam’s neck and locking him in place in a strangely serpentine embrace. The hot rancid breath in Sam’s ear repulsed him, his body shuddering as those cold fingertips caressed his cheek and the hollow of his throat.
“Listen close, Sam Winchester.”
Saw growled in frustration as the gun nudged hard into his ribcage.
“Do I have your full attention?”
“Yes,” Sam breathed between gritted teeth. “Yes!”
“You see Sam, it’s funny how a real good fuck and a real good bleedin’ sounds almost the same,” he paused in his whisper to chuckle. “I don’t know what my associate here was doing to your brother but it sounded like a real party.”
“You son of a-” Sam’s lunge was brought short by an incredible pain stabbing behind his eyes. “…s-son of bitch…”
“No need for that kind of language,” the man released Sam to reassume his comfortable seat. “Let’s keep things civil if you don't mind.”
Sam fought past the searing ache pooled behind his eyes and began summoning his own rage. He could rip this demon out of its meat suit along with the servant it had brought along with it. He would turn them inside out before casting them bloody and raw back down into hell’s side. In fact, there were a few new tricks he’d picked up to make the process even more unpleasant for the unlucky bastard that got to be Sam’s latest experimental victim.
But instead of his waiting wraith all he found was more pain.
“Do me a favor, Sam,” the demon tapped the window glass with a knuckle. “Don’t waste your talents on little old me.”
Panting for air, Sam struggled to brace himself against the dashboard, his legs limp and useless under him. Flashes of white kept blossoming and dimming sickeningly in his vision as he fought to clear his head. It felt as if all the energy he had was being sent right back at him with an added little extra just to make sure he was sufficiently assured his efforts were useless.
“You see?“ the man chucked his tongue. “You’ve done nothing but given yourself a nose bleed.”
Sam numbly clutched the linen handkerchief that was placed in his hands.
“Let’s get driving, shall we?” came the order. “Not too fast. Don’t want to get into an accident in this nasty weather.”
Tasting the blood in his mouth, Sam watched as the car backed out carefully in the heavy fall of snow. His thoughts flashed back to how cold it was out there and Dean’s thick leather jacket was warming the skin of some second-rate flunky bound to obey the master relaxing in the backseat. He didn’t think about a possible gleaming and jagged slash across Dean’s throat, or that dull vacant look that settled into the eyes when all life had left.
He didn’t think about that at all.
“W-What do you want?” Sam asked.
Sam closed his eyes as the pain grew worse.
The tires crunched over ice and gravel as they left the parking lot and pulled out onto the main road. Sam held on long enough to see that they were headed south. The direction seemed fitting considering the circumstances. For a moment, he let his stifled panic leak through his forced calm, pure and hot down his spine as he knew this time he was all alone. Slumping back in the seat he saw a ward had been scrawled above the passenger seat just above his head. It was some variation of a holding symbol, an amalgam of the old mixed with the new to deal with latest breeds of the black like himself. He dully wondered how many others were carved into the car to keep him submissive and weak.
As he faded away he found himself staring at his brother’s ring that now sat on the hand of some hijacked stranger. Sam thought maybe he should be comforted by the fact that these beasts hadn’t come here simply to slowly rip him into to screaming pieces.
Because he knew better than anyone that the alternative could always be a lot worse.