Work Text
Sam races to catch up with Dean and John as they’re walking through the woods. He had gotten distracted by some kind of bird, but he’s not too worried since they’re still in sight. After all, this is just a hike, and there shouldn’t be any kinds of monsters in these woods. Neither Dean nor John had noticed Sam lagging behind, so he rushes to catch up before they notice. However, something reaches out from between the tree branches, and catches Sam by his wrist. He yelps, but is pulled through the brush before he can get away. His head hits a rock on his way down, but whatever is pulling him keeps a hold of his wrist even after he’s fallen. There’s no solid figure, but Sam thinks that he can see something in the corner of his vision. It looks suspiciously like a person, but he can’t make it out. It’s far enough away that it can’t be touching him, and Sam can’t see anything physically holding his wrist. He’s already gone much farther than he should have been able to in the short amount of time he’s been dragged, especially without serious injury. His head is throbbing a little bit, but other than that, he just has some scrapes. Eventually whatever is pulling him starts to slow. The trees are closer together here, and it’s darker. There’s a thick bed of leaves that crunches as Sam sits up on his elbows. It’s too dark to see almost anything, and Sam finds himself reaching for his gun before he even makes it to his feet. He winces as it rubs the bruises that he got on his back as he was being dragged, but immediately feels better once it’s settled in his hand. Something rustles to Sam’s right, but it sounds like it’s at least a few feet away. The odd part is that it’s completely quiet aside from that. There are no birds, no critters running around, or bugs buzzing. Normally that’s a sign that something is wrong when you’re out in nature like this, but Sam already knew that. He just doesn’t know what it is that dragged him out here, or that it was what ran off all of the woodland animals. Then a woman walks close enough for Sam to see her. She looks to be around his dad’s age, and she has blonde hair and green eyes that look almost like they’re glowing. They flash black as she approaches Sam.
Damn it! Is she a demon? What do I do? This gun isn’t going to do anything other than kill the person that’s being possessed. The little bit of holy water I had was in my bag, Dean took that from me earlier.
“What do you want?” Sam asks, dropping the muzzle towards the ground. “It’s good that you know that thing isn’t going to help you.” Sam raises one eyebrow, and the woman just smiles. “Now, settle down, Sammy. I’m just going to take you for a meeting. You won’t even remember it once we’re done.” “What are you talking about?” “Don’t worry about it.” She takes another step closer, and in turn, Sam takes a step back. She smiles, then lunges at him. One arm wraps around his waist, pinning his arms to his sides while her other hand clamps over his mouth. That’s when he hears leaves crunching. “Sammy?” Dean calls. He sounds far off. Sam tries to pull away from the woman, but she keeps a tight hold of him.
No!
“Let go of me,” he tries to say, but it just comes out as muffled noises.
Don’t leave me, Dean. I’m here.
She slots her chin against Sam’s shoulder, her face pressed against his. Dean’s voice only grows fainter, and Sam can feel the woman smile against his cheek. “Well, let’s get on with this.” She knocks Sam out before he can do anything else. Dean’s voice hasn’t even fully faded away before Sam’s consciousness does. He wakes up in a concrete room strapped to a white bed. There’s a monitor clipped to the end of his finger, electrodes attached to his chest, and stuff stuck to his face and head. He can’t see those, but he can see some kind of bracelet around his right wrist along with the restraints. He pulls lightly on the restraints, but there’s almost no leeway. The woman from earlier walks in. “Sam, you’re awake.” “What is going on?” Sam asks, his voice shaking. “Well, my boss is currently in charge of you. We’re just doing a little check up since you started falling behind in class and with your dad. Normally it’s just a balance issue as to why you fall behind in one or the other, but since it’s both, he wants to make sure that it’s not something too concerning.” “Who are you, and what do you mean? Your boss is in charge of me? You’re a demon.” “I am, and my name is Kennedy. As for why, you don’t really need to know that. Especially since you’re stressed enough, and that would only get worse. We do want proper results. Either way, we all know that your dad wouldn’t take you to get checked out unless you were visibly dying. Honestly, he’s the reason why you’re the most work, but the boss does really like you, so I guess you’re worth the extra work.” Sam sucks in a breath, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “Calm down. You shouldn’t be this shocked about this. After all, you’ve always known that something was off about your life.” “Yeah, everything about it, but not this. Demons know who I am? Personally know who I am? Why?” “Jeez, you ask a lot of questions.” Sam starts trying to pull his hand out of the restraints, which Kennedy rolls her eyes at. She walks over, and puts a hand over his. “Don’t make me sedate you. It’s better if you’re awake for a while. Either way, you have nothing to keep freaking out about. We’re not going to hurt you, and this won’t even affect you in a few hours. You won’t remember it.” “Even if you do have some magic way to wipe my memories, how are you planning on explaining my absence to my family? I heard Dean calling my name. You kidnapped me, and they don’t take lightly to that kind of thing.” “Well, they’re not going to know that you were kidnapped any more than you are. You should be happy. Do you know what your dad would do to you if he knew that the demons took an actual interest in you? Also, it’s not magic, it’s just a drug concoction. What are you planning to do if you get out of here? You’re obviously trying, but it’s clear that you haven’t thought this through. What, you go home and try to explain this to your family? They’re going to think you’re either crazy, or that you’re a monster of some sort. Why else would demons be interested in you?” Sam stops struggling, biting his lip to stop himself from saying something that would make her change her mind about hurting him. “Now, do you know why your grades and training performance has dropped? I know that you’ve thought about it since your dad is always breathing down your neck about your training.” Sam looks away. “You do, don’t you? Are you having memory issues, or comprehension issues?” “I’m not trying.” Kennedy pauses, then starts laughing. “Ok, a mental health issue then. Not something that we can do anything about, but let me tell you, it won’t be an issue once your dad gets a hold of you. Whatever depressive episode this is, he’s going to beat you into training properly again. Then you’ll pick up your school just to spite him, and we’ll go back to how things were before. I’ll just finish this up anyway. You know, just in case.” Sam closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. Kennedy’s hand pulls away from his, and suddenly it’s a lot easier to breathe through his rising panic. He’s stuck sitting there for another hour before Kennedy walks back in. She’s holding a vial. “Well, the rest of your tests came back, and we have a few things that could be causing your worse mood, and lack of motivation.” She walks over, and pulls Sam’s shirt up on one side with a frown. “I can count your ribs. Do you eat?” “Of course I do,” Sam says, making a bitch face at her. “Alright, well, I guess I’ll just have to bruise your ribs so your brother will check it out, and see how thin you are. He’ll make sure to do something about that, and it might clear up some of your issues.” She preps the needle while Sam just watches her. At this point, he has no idea what to do, and only resists a little bit when she sticks him. It doesn’t do him any good though, and he passes out only a few seconds after the needle leaves his arm. Sam wakes up slowly, immediately aware of blood coating the side of his face. His head is throbbing, and his vision blurs as he sits up. There’s a rock near his eyes, and leaves underneath him.
Where am I?
He becomes more aware of his own body as he forces himself to his feet. His chest is throbbing in time with his head, and he can tell immediately that there are bruises spanning the side of his abdomen that he fell on. He vaguely remembers getting ready for a hiking trip that morning, but it’s dark outside now. Dark enough that it’s hard for him to see, though he can tell that he’s in the woods.
If this is where Dad was taking us, I should be able to find the road. We did some mapping already.
Sam takes off as quickly as he can with how unsteady he is. He eventually does find the road, and just starts following it up till he can see headlights. At that point, it’s been an hour or two since he woke up. He’s still foggy, and can’t seem to recall anything from that day, but he does feel a little more steady. Dad and Dean are standing by the car, talking rapidly. Sam is still far enough away that he can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s obvious that they’re trying to plan how to find him.
I wonder how long they’ve been looking.
Sam starts jogging at that point, and Dean notices him once he’s a few feet away. “Sammy!” He runs to meet Sam half-way. “Where were you?” he demands, holding Sam’s face in between his hands. “I don’t know.” “You’re bleeding.” “I don’t remember anything after getting ready this morning.” “How hard did you hit your head?” “Samuel Winchester!” John says, sounding angrier than Sam has heard him in a while. Sam looks over, pulling his face away from Dean. “Where do you get off running off like that?” he demands, grabbing Sam’s arm. Sam winces as John drags him towards the car. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam insists, not resisting. “I know that you’ve been throwing a tantrum lately, and I let you get away with slacking off in your training, but this is too far. I knew that I shouldn’t have enabled you.” “What if something happened? I mean, he obviously hit his head. Are you hurt anywhere else, Sammy?” Dean asks, his eyes flittering between John and Sam. “I think I bruised my ribs.” John keeps a hold of Sam’s arm with one hand while he pulls Sam’s shirt up with the other. Sam flinches, but stays completely still. “All of his injuries, including the bruises are conducive with him falling. He couldn’t even run away right, because he’s been slacking off. Either way, if something had attacked him, we’d know. There would be more signs, or he’d be dead already. Now both of you get in car. We’ll talk about your punishment in the morning, Sam.” “But I didn’t run away!” “I thought you didn’t remember.” “I don’t, but I know I didn’t do that. That would have been stupid.” “You do lots of stupid stuff. Now get in the car, and stop arguing with me, or I’m going to find something much worse for your punishment.” Sam bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, but lowers his head. Dean puts a hand on Sam’s shoulder. John drops them off at the motel then leaves in the car again. Dean pulls out the first aid kit. “Do you think I would run off?” Sam asks, grabbing a few clips out of his bag to pin his hair away from the injury with. “I don’t know, Sammy. I know that you’re really smart, but Dad’s right about your injuries. What else could have happened?” Sam shrugs. “Alright, take your shirt off, and deal with your hair.” “Way ahead of you.” Dean turns around, and frowns deeply at Sam. “When did you drop so much weight?” he asks, walking over. He puts the first aid kit aside, and gently probes Sam’s side. “I don’t know. I’ve just been really busy, and it’s easy to forget about eating occasionally.” “Yeah, and it’s not like we have that many options to begin with. It’s alright, I’ll keep an eye on that for you. I mean, I’m not that busy right now anyway. I’m going to wrap your ribs up, then we can deal with that cut. I can see it better now though I won’t be able to tell for sure until I clean some of the blood up, but you’re definitely going to need a few stitches. On the bright side, it doesn’t look too bad.” Sam holds his arms up as Dean wraps up his ribs. They’re quiet as Dean cleans and stitches Sam’s head. Once he’s done, he helps Sam pull a clean shirt on. “Get some sleep, I’ll talk to Dad when he gets back.” “Yeah, good luck with that,” Sam replies bitterly. He curls up on his good side, and closes his eyes.
What could have happened? I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t run off in the middle of the woods, then fall and hit my head. That would have had to be a really nasty fall. None of this makes sense, and Dad is going to make my life a living hell until he thinks I’ve learned my lesson for something I know I didn’t do. I just don’t have an explanation. Damn it, I don’t know how to figure out what happened.