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12x02 Alternate

Summary:

"I said n-...." Sam furrowed an eyebrow, looking down at his hands. Noticing the tremors, his eyes widened. After a few seconds, the shakes became more and more violent. "No!"

British bitch stepped closer to him.

Sam's head snapped up as he growled. "Get me out of these, now!!!"

Notes:

" " - indicates speech
' ' - indicates signing

Work Text:

The hours dragged on and on as he sat tied to a chair in the basement of wherever the fuck the Men of Letters were using as a temporary base. Struggling to keep his eyes open as he tried to breath through the pain, Sam wheezed before beginning to cough, a spurt of blood dribbling from his lips as he did so. 

The door clunked open with a violent tremor through the stone floor.

Sam's eyes rose ever so slightly to look at British bitch, noticing that the other woman had followed her down too.

"Screw you..." He struggled.

"Sam, please...just help us out here, then we'll set you free." British bitch stated.

"No."

"Sam..."

"I said n-...." Sam furrowed an eyebrow, looking down at his hands. Noticing the tremors, his eyes widened. After a few seconds, the shakes became more and more violent. "No!"

British bitch stepped closer to him.

Sam's head snapped up as he growled. "Get me out of these, now!!!"

She scoffed. "I don't think so."

"You don't understand, I..." Sam's voice trailed off as his eyes rolled backwards and the shakes kicked in. A few seconds later, he was seizing.

Sam was unsure of what was happening around him, but was he could make out were hands gripping his wrists before the shackles he once wore were released along with the chains around his waist. He was then pulled from the chair in one vaguely careful motion and lain on the ground.

"Guh..." Sam moaned as he continued to seize.

When the convulsions came to a close, the hunter's head lolled to the side as he breathed heavily in exhaustion, scrunching his eyes closed against the bright lights of the basement. He felt sick, his stomach hurt, his wrists hurt, his back hurt, and his arms felt numb. His teeth were still clicking together every few seconds as he tried to regulate his heartbeat.

Vibrations through the floor suggested that British bitch and the other woman were leaving the room. His thoughts were confirmed a few seconds later when the door made the floor shake slightly.

Having refused to appear weak in front of the Men of Letters, Sam let out a whimper before a tear trickled down his cheek. "D'n..."


"Ma'am..." Watt began. "...you can't just leave him down there. We've probably hurt him enough already by not getting him outta' that chair quick enough. He clearly has some kind of seizure disorder so there's no way he isn't on medication for it."

"Do you understand the point of torture?" Toni asked.

Watt scowled. "We're doing this to get answers, this..." She pointed to the image of Sam half passed out on the floor of the basement. "...this is beyond torture, this is inhumane. He'll just keep having them if you don't find out what medication he takes."

"Leave him down there. If anything will make him talk, it's this." Toni walked off.


Picking the lock of the backdoor, Dean snuck inside. Moving through the corridor, he paused upon noticing an iron door with a bar across the lock.

Cocking his gun, Dean quietly lifted the lock before pulling the door open and walking inside. As he reached the top of the staircase, his eyes widened.

There was Sam lying in a heap on the floor.

"Sammy!"

He sprinted down the steps and over to his brother. Reaching him, Dean winced in sympathy. Sam's breathing was awful, his body shook in what was clearly a combination of seizure after effects and pain, and light whimpers were escaping his lips.

Dean lay a hand gently on his brother's arm.

"No, no, no, please..." Sam weakly begged, the words barely audible from his raw throat.

's-my' Dean signed into his little brother's palm after wrestling it into his hold.

Sam jumped, eyes opening in a second before he moved as much as his exhaustion would allow to try and locate the source of the sign. As his gaze landed on Dean, Sam tearfully exhaled. "D'n."

Dean was almost tearful himself as he saw the glaze to his little brother's eyes. "Hold on, Sammy, I'm going to get you out of here, but you desperately need to take these first." Taking a packet of Gabapentin from his jacket pocket, Dean cracked open the lid of a bottle of water and fed the tablets to Sam before wrapping his arms around his brother and slowly getting him to his feet.

Sam's legs were nowhere near strong enough to hold himself up due to the torture and seizures meaning that Dean had to basically carry his not-so-little brother up the stairs and out of the house. 

"Cas! Cas!" Dean shouted.

Cas' head turned in an instant, eyes locking with the sight before him. "Sam!" He ran over and immediately threw Sam's arm over his shoulders, helping Dean take his weight. "What did they do to him?" Cas noticed the tremors in Sam's arms and legs.

"Well the bastards must have been there when he seized because he was unchained on the floor when I found him, which means that they didn't attempt to get him any medication. So in a nutshell, they tortured him and refused to give him any relief from the seizures he's been having." Dean paused, sighing heavily. "I've never seen him this spaced, Cas. He's hurting worse than anything they tortured him with down there and the fuckers didn't care. He could have died!" He growled.

"We can get angry later, first we have to get him back to the bunker so he can sleep."

Dean nodded, reaching down to his brother's palm.

'Hold on B-U-D' He traced.