This is story is a team effort between Maggiedoodle18 and samantha-dean.

Slave To The Thirst

Chapter 1

Sam had never believed he had claustrophobia, but in the current situation it was fast becoming a reality. Through his blood induced craze, he hadn't even bothered to check his watch to see how many minutes had passed by. How many hours his brother and so-called friend had left him to stew in his own juices. They had to know that this wasn't good for him. They had to see what it was doing to him.

Sweat beaded on Sam's forehead. Every so often a large droplet would detach from his brow and trickle its way down his face, past his cheek and slowly fall from his chin to his misty blue shirt. His eyes were red and blood shot, ugly black bags almost etched into the skin underneath his bottom eyelid. To say he looked like a junky would be a complement. To say he looked like hell would be hitting the nail on the head. From his sitting position, Sam twitched every so often. He would play with his hands and continually cross his feet. Not for the fun of it, but because, through the daze that was his mind, that was about the only lucid movements he could manage. Now, though he was past being bored, and far past the hope that his brother would see reason and let him out. Did he want him to hate him?

Sam curled his hands into a ball then looked up at the pentagram sky-light. He wanted out and he wanted out now. Seconds passed before Sam rested his eyes back on his hands. This time however, his eyes lit up in fear. Sam parted his hands and watched as black spider-like veins formed under his skin and began to snake their way up his arm. Sam looked around himself quickly and spotted the single piece of reflective surface there was in the room. He darted towards the mirror, his energy fading as he reached the small wooden table underneath it. He gripped onto it and looked into the mirror in shock. He watched as the veins crawled up his neck, across his forehead, over his cheeks. The pain that he now felt getting almost unbearable.

"G-GUYS, HELP!" He yelled as loud as he could possibly go, but not able to help the scream of pain that escaped as well. "BOBBY, DEAN...HELP!"

Sam collapsed to the floor; it felt like he had fire running through his veins.

"HEY... HEY, GUYS!!! GUYS.... DEAN!" It was like word vomit. It just kept coming, he wanted his brother and Bobby to come and help him. But it was like they were ignoring him. Why would they do that? They can obviously hear what's going on down here.
" DEAN ... Ple-se." He couldn't form solid words anymore. His mind was too tired, the pain reaching heights he had never felt before.
That's when it hit him. His throat was closed off and his breathing stopped all together. He was being strangled but he couldn't see anybody in the room with him that was causing it.

Sam tossed around on the floor, gripping away at his neck and fighting for air. He could feel his eyes popping out of his head and feel the pressure beginning to build which was a sure sign of oxygen deprivation. He needed air. Strangled cries left his lips as he prayed for his brother to help him. As if his situation couldn't get any worse. He now felt cold hands grip onto his shoulders. Then he was flying, making contact with the metal wall.

Again, he couldn't see anybody in the room who could be doing this. Even though his eyes were blurry he could still trust them. That's when he heard it. The panic room door was being unlocked. He reached out his arm in hope, but had to reel it back in as he was tossed across the wall, rolling from back to front, his body hitting it painfully. He stopped again and reached out for help. He felt four pairs of warm hands grab his flaying arms and drag him from the wall, but he was still suffocating. He couldn't stop his body from thrashing. Even when he made contact with the less than soft floor, he still couldn't stop. He felt something hard being forced into his mouth and without even really thinking about it, dug his teeth into it, trying to relieve the pain. He was slipping. He knew this. The fog in his mind was taking complete control. He could feel his eyes blinking fast, his face twitching. The last thing he remembered before he succumbed to the darkness was the invisible force that had stopped him from breathing, disappearing.

xXx

Waking up chained to a cot wasn't pleasant. Sam pulled at the cuffs which kept his arms and legs firmly attached to the cot. For a moment he had forgotten exactly what had happened to make Bobby and Dean to something like this. But then it hit him. He remembered the thrashing and the strangling.

Sam looked around himself and allowed his eyes to rest on Dean, who stood at the bottom tip of his bed a less than amused look on his face.

"We had to," Dean said as Sam rose into a sitting position still subconsciously pulling at the cuffs. "The demon blood was flinging you all around the room. "

Sam continued to look at Dean with mixture of innocence and shame. He pulled at the chains again, to put across to his brother that he wanted out.

"Tell me something Sam, Why did you do this to yourself?" Dean asked sadly.

That was a question Dean already knew the answer too. But Sam knew that Dean would never accept why he did this. "You know why." he stated simply. The innocence and shame disappearing and being replaced with anger.

"Right. Kill Lilith, the big excuse. But why...What; revenge? ...Right."

"Of course." Sam said desperately. The change in emotions must be giving his brother whip-lash.

"Revenge for what? For sending me to Hell? Did ya happen to notice I'm back? Alive and kicking! So what's the point?" Dean asked, with anger growing in every word.

"The point...?" Sam tried to raise his arms but was restricted by the cuffs. He shot an angry glare then sighed. "How about stop the damn apocalypse - "

"My gig, not yours!" Dean interrupted. "The angels said so remember? God picked me, man."
Dean paused "So you got any other fantastic excuses ? Hmmm?"

Sam ignored him and lay back down on the bed, not making eye contact. But out of the corner of his eye he could see Dean begin to circle him.

"I know why you really drink that blood, Sam. "

Sam closed then opened his eyes. "Just...Leave me alone." Sam pleaded.

"Makes you feel strong. Invincible. The big bad wolf, in a whole world of little pigs."

"No you're wrong, Dean." Sam was getting back to being desperate, but for good reason. His brother was getting the wrong idea. This wasn't why he did any of this.

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Dean continued. "It's because your whole life, you've felt...Different. Am I right?"

"Stop." Sam pleaded.

"What, I hit a little close to home huh?"

Sam pulled at his cuffs. He just wanted Dean to stop.

"You're not different 'cause you where some lonely kid or because of your weirdo family."

"Stop it." The anger was creeping back Sam's voice.

"But because you're a monster." Dean accused threateningly as he leaned in to be face to face with Sam.

Sam turned to face him and let his anger loose. "Shut up! Just --- shut the hell up!"

"You were always a monster. And you only feel right when you're sucking down more poison, and more evil!" Venom laced Dean's words. Sam could feel his heart break. Dean was getting the wrong idea and he just wouldn't listen. Sam began to pull at his cuffs again just wanting it to end. For Dean to stop.

"Monster, Sam. You're a monster." Dean continued to accuse.

"Dean, no..."

"You know I tried so hard to pretend that we were brothers. That you weren't one of the filthy things we hunt. But we aren't even the same species. You're nothing to me." Dean spat.

"Don't say that to me." Sam pleaded once more, tears filling his eyes. "Don't you say that to me!" Sam looked away, the pain of looking at the hate filled glance his brother was sending becoming too much. When Dean didn't reply to him, Sam chanced another glance at his brother, but when he turned his head, his brother was gone.

Sam took a deep breath as he realized, much to his relief, that it was just another hallucination. Typical, he thought. He was getting all worked up over a figment of his imagination

Suddenly exhausted, Sam began to nod off to sleep, letting the comforting silence wash over him.

xXx

Sam awoke suddenly to the sound of loud banging coming from the large iron door. His head moved sluggishly toward the door as he pried his tired eyes open.

What he saw was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in days.

The banging was the sound of the door opening. It swung open slowly, and Sam watched with glee, as Ruby stepped inside with a brilliant, almost smug smile on her face as she stared at him. Her eyes seemed to be glistening dangerously.

He never noticed how beautiful she really was until this moment. Her long brown hair seemed much shinier tonight, and wavier. Her brown eyes pierced his hazel ones almost hungrily. But her beauty was more than that. Tonight, she seemed to have an almost glow about her.

"Ruby." Sam said with relief and as a greeting.

Her smile suddenly dropped and she looked confused, but as quickly as it dropped it snaked back into her features and she cooed, "It's alright Sam."

"Ruby." Sam said again, except this time it sounded more like a plea. "I-I need it."

Her smile somewhat wavered as she looked down at him. "What do you need?"

Sam eyed her wrist hungrily. Ruby followed his line of sight and stared at her own wrist, and then back to his face.

She shrugged her shoulders at him, and then he whispered, "W-Where's your knife?" He was now eyeing her ankles.

"I didn't want to bring it." She whispered. "Don't want your darling brother to get his greedy hands on it, do we?"

Sam nodded slightly "Improvise." He practically begged as he motioned his head over to the direction of the mirror on the wall.

Ruby nodded slowly, still looking a little confused and walked over to the mirror above the wooden table on the other side of the room.

With her lift fist, she smashed it, and her blood began to flow thick and fast from her knuckles all over her hands, and down her wrists. Some even dripped onto the cemented floor.

Sam made a tiny pleading moan as he watched her blood drip from her hand and being wasted on the floor.

Ruby walked back over to Sam slowly, holding her bleeding hand out towards him. Her eyes stared into his hungry hazel eyes again. As she stood over him, she lowered her hand to his mouth, looking a little apprehensive.

When he began to lap up the blood with his tongue, her eyes widened with what looked like surprise. Her face suddenly relaxed, and her smile returned as she nudged her hand closer to his face.

Sam's mouth closed around her bleeding knuckle and the sheer pleasure of the blood in his mouth was explosive. He began to suck at the wound frantically, desperate for more. A moan of pleasure escaped his throat, and that was the moment when he realized that her blood tasted different. It didn't taste anything like Ruby's blood, but it was still amazing in its own right. Sam didn't even want to question it.

His mind suddenly became fuzzy, and he was beginning to lose his grip on reality and consciousness. He pulled his face away from Ruby's hand and stared up at her groggily. Her smile looked dangerous now, like she was stalking her prey. "Get some rest now, Sam." She cooed.

Sam nodded slightly as he lowered his head back down to the makeshift pillow on his cot. He knew now that things would be better when he woke up.

The last thing he heard before drifting off to sleep was the sound of Ruby laughing menacingly, and the large iron door of the panic room closing and locking shut.

But, Sam couldn't bring himself to care.