Torture - Sam

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Character: Sam
Type: Angst?
Word Count: 772

Moonlight streaks through the abandoned barn, allowing you to scan the area for vamps. Nothing so far. Dean should be manning the entrance and Sam is taking the adjoining room. It smells of hay and blood - which isn't pleasant - but you scrunch your nose and power on. 

Scratch.

You spin around frantically but there's nothing there. You exhale in relief, but the air catches in your throat when a hand snakes up from behind you, covering your mouth. Your scream is muffled so nobody can hear you before something hard connects with your skull.

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Your vision fades in and out of focus. When the barn comes back into view, nausea overwhelms your senses. Your hands are fixed tightly above your head in metal chains, and your head throbs. 

"Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?" Sam hisses. He's also tied up but a few feet to your right. Relief floods through you, even though it probably shouldn't, at the fact that you're not alone. 

"I'm peachy," You try to joke, but your voice comes out weak and rough. You cough.

"I promise, we're going to get out of here," Sam whispers. You smile sadly; maybe it would be easier to believe him if blood wasn't dripping slowly into your mouth from a cut somewhere on your face. 

A sharp clank rings out in the room and a bulky vampire dressed in a leather jacket emerges from the shadows. "You hunters are all the same. Predictable." He snarls, flashing his threatening fangs.

"I think it's time we taught you a little lesson," another vampire voices, a young woman with jet-black hair. She stalks over to you, licking her lips. She grabs your chin and jerks it to face her. "I say we start with this one."

She slaps you - hard - and you hear Sam's shackles jangle. "Don't you fucking dare," he breathes, "I swear, I'll kill you both if you lay a finger on her." 

The male vampire laughs heartily, "And how'd you suppose you'll do that? Go ahead, darling..." he prompts the other vampire. Her pretty face contorts into a grisly smirk, and you grimace. She drags a pointy fingernail leisurely down your cheek, drawing blood. She leans in and licks the blood off, while you lay there, powerless.

Dizziness infects your brain. If only you had the strength to kick out, spit in her face, anything... You hear a scream and panic engulfs you when you realise it's your own. The vampire has dug a knife deep into your thigh and the pain hits you in waves. Agonising, paralysing waves. 

"Y/N!" Sam shouts wildly.

Your eyes droop shut while shouts and bangs surround you. A minute or so later of perfect darkness and auditory chaos, you feel your hands drop to your sides. 

"Y/N." At the sound of his voice, your eyes open instantly. A bloodied but smiling Sam gazes down at you. "Deep breaths." 

You cling to his shirt and tears start to stream down your face. "Please, Sam," you sob, "It hurts."

"Shh, I know. You're okay now. No, Y/N don't close your eyes! Focus on me, okay?" 

You try your best, locking your eyes with Sam's. It keeps you grounded while your whole body feels alight with terrible sensation. "That's it. You're doing so well." 

A door crashes open and Sam shouts at Dean for help. As quickly as he arrived, you sense Dean leaving again. You don't have the strength to ask questions, you just put all your concentration into not closing your eyes. 

"Is it bad?" you whisper, "Am I going to die?"

"No," Sam replies automatically, his voice cracking slightly, "The vampires are dead and Dean's bringing the car up. We're going straight to the hospital."

"Sam, keep talking to me. I feel so..." 

"Yes. Y/N, you only need to hold on a little longer, okay? I see Dean, look, I'm gonna help you up. On three." 

He counts slowly and lifts you to your feet. You rely solely on the leg that didn't have a blade jammed into it. Dean rushes out of the driver's seat to assist Sam in carrying you and despite everything, you smile up at Sam. The brothers lay you down gently in the cushy back seat of the Impala. Sam sits next to you and your head rests in his lap the whole ride.

Your thoughts are foggy and barely coherent, but you know one thing - you hate hospitals. 

"Sammy..."

"I know. I know. We'll be with you the whole time." Sam says, as if reading your mind. He picks up your small hand in his, "I won't let go until it's over." 

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