Title: Hireling part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - ?
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 didn’t fight them when his shirt was pulled off over his head.
The cold room was quiet until the shrill buzz of the needle broke the silence. He was slightly surprised at the sight of the modern day tool in the demon’s careful hands. A simple knife and ink seemed more Gregor’s style than what would be found in any normal tattoo parlor. Sam shifted against the itchy bedspread as the demon considered the protective ward over his heart with the gentle touch of his long fingertips.
“Lay still,” Gregor told him. “It must be perfect.”
He flinched when the needle met the skin under his collar bone, the hum of the needle growing louder as it was pressed into his flesh. There was pain but it felt dull and far away. They had been traveling for a long time, and Sam had lost count of all the hidden demons they had found and destroyed. Time had become a haze, nights and days blurring into one long endless car ride from town to town. Sam looked over Gregor’s shoulder at the servant that vaguely resembled his brother. It stood in the corner watching on with its blank green eyes.
“W-Why don’t you just have me possessed like him?” Sam asked. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”
The demon’s large mouth contorted into its hideous smile. “I don’t trust many of my kind. Besides, no one could better weld your gifts than you, Sam.”
The needle worked in short even strokes, pausing only to dip back into the pot of ink sitting on the bedside table.
“What are you doing this time?” Sam had dim memories of laying like this for the demon many times before. His back still ached along his spine where the needle had worked not long ago. “Are you making me into a lockbox too?”
“Nothing of the sort,” he said. “I’m simply making you all mine.”
Sam couldn’t see the other wards that had been placed on his body but he knew what binding magic could do. He hissed when a cloth damp with alcohol wiped the blood from his chest, the soft breath of the demon blowing on it and making him shiver at the icy sear as it evaporated.
“How do you feel?” Gregor asked. “Please, be honest.”
Sam groaned as he struggled to flex his hands and will his body to do what he wanted. The lamp light seemed more muted and his body felt heavier than it already had. It was as if another length of heavy chain had been wrapped around him when there was nothing there at all. Clenching his jaw, he felt tears of frustration burn his eyes and run down the sides of his face.
“Excellent.” Gregor patted him on the cheek. “You’ll get used to it. Don’t worry.”
“You-You’d better pray these hold,” Sam heard the fear in his own voice and it made his eyes burn harder. “You’d better hope I never-”
Just like every other time it was whispered Sam tried to fight off the surge of exhaustion that came with the command. He felt a blanket drawn up over his bare chest as he tried to keep his eyes from closing. The last thing he saw was the lamp light clicking off, and the last thing he heard was the demon’s low voice ordering his servant to follow. They were going to be moving on again in the morning and there would more demons for Sam to slay.
But all Sam could think of as he drifted into a dreamless slumber was his brother.
The small and frightened voice seemed like it had been whispered right into Sam’s ear. He roused slowly, focusing his eyes on the red glow of the digital clock. It was the middle of the night and he immediately knew that he was the only person in the room. The demon and its servant had once again left him alone until their departure in the early dawn.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he wondered if the voice wasn‘t just something left over from a dream. Sam stifled a moan at the feel of his cramped muscles, sore and stiff from disuse. All he could see was his breath fogging in the frigid air and the glow of the parking lot lights leaking through the closed curtains.
Please, I need help.
Sam stared at the doorway of the bathroom and rubbed his numb hands together. The urgent female voice he had mistaken for a whisper wasn’t a whisper at all, it was in his head, the fear of the speaker flowing keenly into his mind as easily as the words.
There was a power emanating from the bathroom that he could feel like a heat from a fire. Looked like it wasn’t just Sam that had been left alone for the evening.
“Okay,” he answered the dark. “I’m coming.”
The tiles were ice under his bare feet as he felt along the wall for the light switch. The bare bulbs over the mirror were too bright, blinding him momentarily before his eyes could adjust. But what he hoped to find in the tub was there when the glare faded away. Dean was a lot like he’d seen him last except with a clean T-shirt and no blindfold. Sam paused when he saw the raw red flesh on his brother’s bicep. Half hidden under the shirt was a brand new tattoo that hadn’t been there before.
Swallowing uncomfortably, he stepped closer under the intense scrutiny of his brother’s pale white stare.
I need water…
It was a plea, hopeful and desperate even as Dean pressed his body back into the bathtub and as far away from Sam as he could.
Sam shut his eyes.
As far away from Sam as she could. He fumbled with the sink and filled a plastic cup before realizing he needed some water pretty badly too. After gulping down as much as he could handle, he filled the cup again and took a deep breath. Kneeling down on the floor he reached out and wrapped a fist in the front of Dean’s shirt to pull her in nice and close.
“I want to talk to my brother,” he said. “Right now.”
Please, the water…
“You’ll get it when I get Dean.”
Sam suddenly felt the waver of her terror shift swiftly into rage, the heat of her power bubbling and blistering in the air between them. But it was trapped power, entwined and ensnared in all the wards that had been placed on Dean’s flesh. Sam absently rubbed at his collar bone and wondered how many new ones he and his brother now owned.
Dean can’t talk. Your new friend took care of that.
“Gregor isn’t my friend,” Sam watched his brother’s chest heave as she became more anxious. “And I think Dean can talk. I think he might be able to talk like you are right now.”
Dean’s brow creased in her fury, a guttural hissing sound coming from behind the gag. But her glare quickly deteriorated and her wide eyes were filled with nothing but panic.
I’m so hungry. I’m tired. Please, give me the water!
Sam frowned. He’d never heard a demon complain so much about the discomfort a human being suffered. He let his hand linger on his brother’s face, feeling her tremble under his touch and wondered if being a human lock box brought a few more features than he thought it did. If Lilith was experiencing a mortal’s pain, then Gregor did more than just trap her. He was well on his way with torturing her too.
And Dean along with her.
Sam winced at the sound Dean made when he peeled the gag away as carefully as he could. He was afraid of what he’d see but he grimly held onto Dean’s jaw anyway, pulling open his mouth to see what Gregor had done. What wasn’t gone was mangled, and Dean writhed under him as he held on for a moment longer to assure himself that what was there had the possibility to heal. His brother stilled when Sam pressed the cup of water to his lower lip, unwilling to argue with her any longer and feeling some unwelcome tugs of pity. She was so eager to drink that most of it spilled to either side of Dean’s face and down his chest.
More… please, more.
Sam wiped away the bloody streaks of water on Dean’s chin and rubbed at the pink stains it made on the front of his shirt. It was a white shirt and it wasn’t his. Winchesters didn’t own white. Sam examined Dean’s jeans and found those had been replaced as well. Checking the pockets he found a wallet that belonged to the possessed man that was wearing all of Dean’s clothes.
“It was his birthday yesterday,” Sam mumbled as he flipped the wallet closed. “Poor bastard.”
Sam froze at Dean’s sudden attempt to speak. And it was Dean, it wasn’t Lilith trying to use his mouth and damaged tongue. Gripping his brother’s arms he watched the white film over his eyes fade until Dean’s eyes just appeared to be dulled with heavy cataracts. Dean searched the room as if he was blind, his hands groping for Sam and holding on tightly.
“Dean? It’s me. It’s me.”
It occurred to him that Lilith had decided to listen to him and allowed Dean to surface after Sam had provided her some water. She knew she was in deep trouble and she knew where help most likely lay. Sam grit his teeth. Gregor had really screwed them both. He couldn’t deprive Lilith without hurting his brother. And he couldn’t annihilate her without destroying Dean at the same time.
Sam was much more careful this time, tipping the cup only as fast as Dean could drink it. Dean’s shaking hands came up to hold the cup himself but Sam held on to it when it obvious that his brother would drop it. He wanted to say something, some kind of reassurance to let Dean know he’d get them out of this but he felt as tired as Lilith had. He felt heavy and useless. Lost in a daze of wards and binding magic meant to suppress and maim him.
Sam knew what the simple question meant.
“He calls himself Gregor.”
“Wha-wha he wan-”
“He wants to rule,” Sam said. “He wants what Yellow Eyes did.”
Dean’s body started to stiffen in Sam’s arms and his eyes began to solidify back into stark white. Lilith had had her fill of taking backseat and was returning again, her fear filled eyes searching Sam’s face for who knew what. Sympathy? Mercy? But Sam understood this was precisely why Gregor had left him alone with this beast. This was another lesson to let him know how utterly Sam was under his control.
Water. Please Sam, we need water…
Sam went back to the sink and stared hard into the mirror. With long even breaths he tried to stop the unbearable desire to obliterate her while he now had the chance. He could feel it, deep inside his chest, the power building and growing, lighting him up from the inside out, the power that could wipe Lilith off the planet and even the universe. She could be reduced to nothing, not a spirit or a phantom, but nothing of anything at all… But his determination crumbled as he felt his power be checked by the wards on his skin, burying him under the smothering binds until he was gasping for air.
He filled the cup and knelt back down on the cold tiles.
“Drink this slow,” he said. “I’ll get you a blanket.”
Sam saw something besides fear in her eyes for a moment and he thought it looked a lot like triumph. With a soft smile, he stroked back his brother’s hair and watched her obediently sip at the water.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Sam said to Dean. “Do you understand?”
She nodded absently.
Sam hoped she did understand. Because he knew better than anyone that a lock box could be broken. And when that seal was cracked, Sam was going to be ready and waiting.
“Can you make Dean sleep?” Sam asked. “Can you put him under?”
Of course I can.
“Then do it.”
He pulled himself up in the doorway, the bathroom lights flickering on and off as their combined energies shifted and flowed through the air between them.
I can help you too.
Think about it.
As he stumbled back into the dark motel room, he wondered why her offer didn’t make him as angry as it should have. Maybe because it was possible there were some demons he wanted to destroy more than Lilith at the moment.
And Gregor had the honor of being number one on that list.