Chapter Six

Even though he knew the people weren't real, that they were just part of the spell Sinclair had placed on the cage, Sam found himself hating them.

They stared at him like he was some kind of strange, exotic animal. Like he was a freak.

Women wearing visors and fanny packs, men in khakis and polo shirts and kids. There seemed to be a plethora of kids gawking at him, eyes wide and mouth smiling around ice cream-smeared lips.

The magician himself never came to see Sam. He sent his shapeshifter to bring Sam food but apparently was prepared to hold his grudge.

Sam wondered if Dean was ever coming back for him. He'd said he would and he had looked sincere as he'd promised it but Sam wasn't so sure.

Dean had been acting strange ever since he'd received the Mark of Cain and not only that, if he did find Abaddon and try to destroy her but… what if he died? What if the Knight of Hell killed Dean? Sam would never know.

"No," the young man muttered to himself, "Dean's okay. He'll kill Abaddon and come back for me. Just like he said he would."

Even though Sam only half-believed it, he felt like the only way to remain sane was to tell himself that Dean hadn't forgotten about him, that Dean wasn't dead and that he was on his way to rescue him.

SPN

Dean pressed the gas pedal almost to the floor as he drove back to Lebanon, Kansas.

He'd still had had no contact with Crowley and Abaddon was nowhere to be found- believe Dean, he'd looked- so when Sheriff Mills had called asking for help taking care of some vampires, the hunter had jumped at the chance. Jody had been expecting both Winchesters, so when Dean had shown up alone he'd had to think of a lie in order to explain Sam's absence. And although Sheriff Mills had been skeptical at first, she didn't question Dean's story.

But now the monsters were dead, a girl was safe and Dean's thoughts once again turned to the Knight of Hell.

He needed to find Abaddon. And soon.

The need to kill her was growing like a pressure gauge and Dean knew that it would burst if he did not act.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened and blood began to pound in his ears.

SPN

Sam tried to ignore the gawkers enough to get some sleep. He was exhausted. His eyes itched with fatigue and his head was aching.

He looked over his shoulder as the shapeshifter slid a plate of food through the horizontal opening at the front of the cage. The creature looked up and Sam could have sworn there was pity in its eyes.

The hunter turned away. He didn't want to eat. And he certainly didn't need anyone- anything- to feel sorry for him. He wanted to sleep.

"Please make them go away," Sam muttered to no one but himself.

W

There was no night. Darkness never fell.

And Sam didn't sleep.

He rubbed at his forehead tiredly.

Was Cuthbert trying to torture him into saying 'uncle'?

Sam moved to the very back of the cage and laid down, draping his arm across his eyes.

The magician wasn't going to win. Even if he was locked in here for a hundred years, Sinclair was not going to get the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten to Sam.

SPN

Chicago, Illinois.

Dean wished he had his brother by his side as he examined the crime scene in front of an upscale-looking restaurant.

A monster- a shapeshifter, to be exact- had been killed just outside on the sidewalk.

As well as a civilian.

But it wasn't the girl who had Dean interested. Sure, it was a damn shame that she had met her end out here- blunt force trauma to the head, according to the coroner- but the shifter.

It looked as though Freddy Krueger had taken to killing his fellow monsters.

And there was also the mess in the back room of the restaurant where the body count increased, the majority of the victims being monsters.

Besides the poor girl, Dean didn't see why this should be his problem. From what he could tell, it seemed as if someone had decided to clean up the city and was doing a pretty damn good job at it. Except for the fact that the guy was sloppy as hell.

Sighing, Dean decided that the least he could do was find the guy with the Krueger claws and talk him into being more careful.

SPN

He's not coming.

He's forgotten all about me.

He cares more about that goddamn First Blade than he does me.

He's going to kill Abaddon but that'll be it.

He's not coming.

Sam couldn't stop the thoughts from circling around and around in his head.

He could barely keep his eyes open but when he did manage to get a moment's rest, nightmares or the magician's fucking spectators woke him.

Sam couldn't take it anymore.

He lunged at the bars of the cage, snarling at the fake zoo-goers.

"Piss off! Get the hell out of here! Leave me alone!"

Kids scattered, screaming; women jumped and stepped back a distance; men reluctantly turned away.

He glanced up when he saw the shapeshifter.

"What did you do to get out of your cage?" Sam asked the creature.

The shifter shrugged, "I'm the closest thing to a human Sinclair has. Besides you."

Sam narrowed his eyes at the shifter but didn't rise to the bait- if that's what it was. He shoved the uneaten plate of food out the opening in the cage and the shapeshifter picked it up.

"Mr. Sinclair won't be pleased," the creature commented.

Sam didn't really care if Cuthbert was happy or not.

He watched silently as the shifter walked away and the looky-loos returned.

SPN

Dean ignored the posted speed limit just as he ignored Crowley's warning.

Poughkeepsie. Yeah, like Dean was going to drop everything and run.

Not when Abaddon was in his sights.

Dean glanced at the passenger's side seat where the First Blade sat, beckoning him to use it: to cut, to stab, to shed blood, to destroy.

The bitch wasn't going to know what hit her.

W

Dean's chest heaved as he stood over Abaddon's prone form, his knuckles white around the handle of the First Blade.

"Congratulations," Crowley piped up from where he sat, slumping slightly in his chair, gripping his arm painfully, "Now let's get out of here."

Dean's head snapped up and Crowley blanched. The hunter stepped forward, still holding the First Blade, the jawbone dripping blood.

"Uh… I mean, can we leave now?" the demon revised, asking a question instead of demanding.

Dean reached Crowley's chair and reached out with his free hand, grabbed the front of his black dress shirt and pulling him to his feet.

"Ah! Watch the arm!"

Dean shoved his face inches away from Crowley's.

"We're going to get Sam. Now."

The demon opened his mouth, "Now?"

Dean pushed Crowley and he stumbled.

"Okay! Okay," the demon grumbled, "We'll go fetch Moose."

SPN

Sam was going to go insane. He was sure of it. He could feel it happening.

Just like before when he had Lucifer trailing along with him everywhere he went.

Sam could feel his grip slipping, just like before.

Which was odd, wasn't it? He knew he was going crazy.

He knew his sanity was dissolving like salt into water.

Or maybe he was just tired.

That was probably what was wrong.

SPN

Sinclair paced around his sitting room, glass of brandy in his hand.

Sam was not eating, not sleeping. The shifter had told him so.

Perhaps the magician should let the young man out.

No, Sam Winchester needed to learn he could not act in such a disrespectful manner. He needed to be punished for his behaviour.

Sinclair could not fold now just because Sam Winchester was insolent.

SPN

Dean pulled the Impala to a stop in the clearing where Cuthbert's hidden mansion was.

"Wait here," Dean ordered and got out of the car.

Crowley watched as he strode across the clearing, First Blade clutched in his hand and blinked out of sight. He wasn't stupid. There was no way he was hanging around for Dean to come back and kill him once he had his brother in tow.

W

Dean took a deep breath and prepared himself to enter the invisible abode of the magician the same way as before. For a moment he didn't think it would work but when he opened his eyes he was standing in the foyer of the dwelling.

"Sam!" Dean called out, "Sammy! Where are you?"

All was silent.

"Hey! Anyone home?" Dean shouted, eyes darting suspiciously around the hallway.

"Dean," a familiar voice said- not Sam's- and the older brother turned to see Cuthbert Sinclair smiling at him.

"Where's Sam?" he asked without formality.

"He's here-" the magician said and was about to speak again when Dean interrupted.

"Tell him I'm taking him home."

"-But he doesn't want to see you," Cuthbert finished.

"Bullshit," Dean growled, "Take me to him, right now."

"No," Sinclair replied.

"No?" Dean asked, stepping forward.

"We made a trade," the magician said, "And it's very rude to go back on a trade."

"I don't care! Give me my brother!" Dean snarled.

Cuthbert only smiled, "Sam is mine."

The hunter rushed forward, hands tight around the handle of the First Blade. He raised the weapon and lashed out.

Blood spurted from the stump of Cuthbert's neck, his head falling to the floor. The magician's body followed his head, collapsing in a heap on the carpet.

"SAM!" Dean shouted and stepped over the magician's body like it was so much trash.

"SAMMY! SAM! SA-" Dean paused when he saw movement at the end of the hallway and an elderly man wearing a suit stepped from a doorway.

The man- if he in fact was a man- raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender.

"Is he dead?" he asked in a thin, reedy voice.

For a moment Dean only stared, trying to decide if the man was a threat.

"What?" he asked finally.

"The magician- Sinclair- is he dead?"

Dean nodded.

"Do you know where Sam is?" he asked the man.

"I do."

"Take me to him."

The man turned, peered over his shoulder at Dean and beckoned him with a hand; "Follow me."

The hunter walked close behind the butler? waiter? as he headed down the hallway. The man stopped at a door and opened it, revealing a staircase leading down.

The man gestured Dean forward. The young man frowned when a cloud of hot, smelly air hit him.

"The hell is down there?" Dean muttered, speaking mostly to himself but the man answered.

"Sinclair collects- collected- many things," he said in a quiet voice, "Extraordinary creatures included."

Dean's eyes widened and he clutched the Blade so tight he was afraid it would crack.

"Sam's down there?"

The man said nothing.

Without waiting another second, Dean rushed down the stairs.

"Sam! Sammy!" he called as he barreled downward, heart pounding in his chest.

He stopped when he reached the bottom of the stairs and stared at the cages surrounding him.

"This way," the man said, startling Dean.

He hadn't noticed the waiter had followed him down.

"What the fuck is all this?" Dean muttered but he barely noticed the creatures inside the cages as he passed them, intent only on getting to his brother.

"Sam!" Dean said as they stopped at the last cage.

Dean's brother was sitting with his back to him. The bar of the cage and its cement floor made Dean think of a jail cell.

"Sammy," Dean said more softly and his brother looked over his shoulder at him.

Dean's brother said nothing. He just stared at Dean.

"What happened to you?"

Sam looked awful. His face was pale and unshaven. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot.

The younger man did not say anything.

"I'm going to get you out, Sammy," Dean assured him.

He saw the door at the back of the cage and headed towards it; he was slightly surprised to find it padlocked shut.

"The man's a magician and he uses a friggin' padlock?" Dean muttered to himself.

"I am certain that Mr. Sinclair has a key," the waiter said but Dean ignored him, pulling his lock-pick kit from his jacket pocket.

Dean dropped the First Blade and worked at the padlock, murmuring to his brother all the while.

"It's okay, Sammy," he said, "I'll get you out in a minute."

Sam didn't reply, he just stared at Dean.

Triumphantly, the older brother flung the door to the cage open, grabbed the First Blade and stepped inside.

"C'mon Sammy, let's get out of here," Dean reached down and grabbed his brother by his upper arm and pulled him up.

Dean tugged his brother towards the stairs, focused only on getting the hell out of this fun house.

"Sam?" he asked and shook his brother's arm, "Snap out of it!"

Sam blinked, his eyes glazed and Dean paused.

"Sam? Hey!" Dean gazed at his brother before he looked around.

"You!" he caught sight of the old waiter or whatever he was, "What's wrong with him?"

"He has not eaten or slept in a long time," the man explained.

Dean didn't say anything for a long moment but then he nodded. He turned around and continued on his way.

W

Dean stepped past the magician's body, eyeing his brother worriedly. He hoped that old man was right and that Sam would come out of the trance soon.

He reached the end of the hallway where he had appeared and tightened his hold on his brother's arm.

"Let's hope this works," he muttered.

SPN

Sam blinked tiredly and realized he was sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala.

He raised a hand and rubbed his forehead.

"You feeling okay?" Dean asked.

Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"What? No 'thanks for rescuing me'?" Dean smirked.

Sam said nothing.

He left me. He left me there. He gave me to Sinclair.

"Fine," Dean muttered, "Don't say anything."

Sam closed his eyes.

W

"Sam," Dean's voice said, "Wakey-Wakey, Eggs n' Bakey!"

The younger brother's eyes slid open and he all but glared at Dean.

"We're home," Dean grinned.

Sam climbed out of the passenger seat and headed into the bunker.

"Hey!" Dean called as he followed his brother inside.

"What?" Sam asked, "What do you want?"

Dean paused.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked Sam, frowning.

"You want to know what's the matter, Dean? Really?" Sam snarled. He couldn't believe Dean didn't realize what he'd done wrong.

"You sold me, Dean! That's what! You sold me for the First Blade!" Sam shouted, standing at the bottom of the staircase.

"Sinclair wouldn't have given the Blade to me!" Dean argued, "What was I supposed to do?!"

"Anything else, Dean!" Sam replied.

"Oh come off it, Sam," Dean said, "I told you I'd come back."

"That's not the point!"

Dean began heading down the stairs, hands clenched into fists.

"I was doing it for you, Sam! To keep you safe! If Abaddon had gotten you-"

Dean was stopped from speaking when Sam interrupted, "I don't care about Abaddon, Dean!"

"She would have killed you without a second thought, Sam," Dean growled, forcing himself to calm down.

The younger brother shook his head.

"You don't understand, do you?"

Dean frowned, "Understand what? What happened?"

Sam didn't answer.

He put me in a cage, Dean. He made me remember Hell.

"I'm done," Sam finally said.

"Huh?" Dean asked, "Done? Sam, I was trying to protect you. I was trying to keep you safe."

"Something's wrong with you," Sam replied.

"Sam! Sam!" Dean shouted as his brother turned and headed deeper into the bunker.

Sam headed down the hallway towards his room. He opened the door and grabbed his duffel bag, shoving his meager possessions into it.

"Sam," Dean stood in the doorway, "What are you doing? Where are you going?"

"All you care about is that you did your good deed for the day," Sam said quietly, "You don't really care what happened to me, do you?"

"Sam, don't go," Dean begged and grabbed Sam's arm as he made to leave the room.

"Let me go," the younger brother pulled his arm from Dean's grip and glared at him.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean called as Sam headed down the hallway.

"Talk to me!" Dean demanded but Sam ignored him.

SPN

"Damn it," Dean swore when he heard the door to the bunker slammed shut with a resounding clang.

He ran a hand through his hair.

Something was wrong with him.

Dean knew he should be more concerned about Sam. He should be worried about what had happened to his brother but something wasn't letting him. All he could think about was the fact that he had done what he'd said, that his brother was safe, that Sam was with him once again.

But no, now he wasn't.

Sam was leaving.

Dean couldn't let him leave.

Hurrying up the stairs, Dean swore silently and threw open the door.

"SAM!" he shouted and caught sight of his brother.

Sam was sitting on the gravel driveway in front of the bunker, his duffel bag beside him.

"Sam? Sammy?"

Dean approached slowly. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

So what if he'd saved his brother?

He should never have left Sam alone with Sinclair.

The son of a bitch had put Sam in a cage.

"Sammy? Hey," Dean murmured and his brother looked over his shoulder at him.

His sibling's eyes were red and wet.

"I… I'm tired Dean…" Sam muttered, "I'm just so tired…"

Dean stepped forward.

"Your bed's a lot more comfortable than the ground," he replied, smiling but then frowned.

"I'm sorry," Dean apologized, serious now, "Whatever that asshole did to you… I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking…. Or, I was… but not about you… not really."

Sam didn't say anything but looked away from Dean.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean said, "I'll help you inside, okay?"

Sam allowed Dean to grab his duffel bag and take his arm, helping him to his feet once more.

"You look like death warmed over," Dean said, "Why don't you get some rest. We can talk about everything once you wake up."

Dean had fucked up. He knew it. And although he may not be able to make things completely right with his brother, he could at least listen to what Sam had to say.

Because this wasn't just about him.

"Dean," Sam muttered, his voice sounding as weary as he looked, "Say that again."

Dean raised an eyebrow as he opened the door to the bunker.

"You're sorry," Sam answered, "Please."

Dean closed his eyes for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Sammy."

Dean carefully guided his brother around the tables in the main area and down the hallway towards his room.

"Dean… he…"

The older brother shook his head, "Wait until you get some sleep. I promise I'll listen."

Sam nodded and Dean tossed his brother's duffel bag into a corner of the bedroom.

The younger man sat down on his bed and listed to one side, eyes closed before his head even hit the pillow.

Dean smiled softly.

He grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed and draped it over Sam, tucking it around his chin.

Before drawing his hand away, Dean brushed his sibling's bangs from his brow.

"It's going to be okay, Sammy," Dean whispered, "I'm going to make everything okay."

Author's Note:

Thanks to elliereynolds777, Jkf340, SamDeanLover28, Marianne Lidell, Jenjoremy, detectivetimehunter, mandancie, sarah, BranchSuper, whimsicalbarwench, SPN Mum, Souldarkalone, kasey, and Mistycat for reviewing.

Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.

Well folks, this is the end. I hope you've enjoyed reading. Please take a moment to leave any final thoughts.