Chapter 8: Beginning With the Letter 'H'
Sam stirred slowly. He felt lethargic and... hungry!? His stomach grumbled loudly and he heard someone chuckled.
"I guess you're awake now, Sammy!"
"De-... Dude, are you there?" Sam said with difficulty. He had problems lifting his head. Even trying to open his eyes took effort.
"Yeah, got caught coming out of the Doctor's office. What about you? How did they catch you, Sam?" Dean asked.
There wasn't a hint of malice in his brother's voice. Hopefully, they hadn't told him about his little indiscretion with Luke.
"Uhm... in the Diner. I was talking to Luke. He'd gone to get us some coffee." Sam lied.
Sam forgot neither of them likes coffee and Luke had made it abundantly clear, the last time, they were together. Luke hated the stuff and he could see why Dean likes it. But Sam wasn't ready to tell Dean about the truth. Since, no one has.
"Sloppy, Sammy! Come on, man! You should have known better than that!" Dean teased.
OK, so they were in a tight situation. If Dean could be teasing, trying not to feel his fear and opting for humor instead.
"So...uhm...Where are we?" Sam asked flinging his head back.
Yeah, my strength is coming back or what's left of it.
His stomach grumbled again and Sam looked around their holdings. There wasn't any food in their cell. Where ever they were, it was lit up brightly. He was tied to a chair facing Dean across the room. White padded walls were all around them, besides under their feet. Dean was still wearing his F.B.I. uniform. Sam looked down and noticed that he was wearing his too and intact.
Thank God, otherwise my Diner excuse would make no sense.
"Don't know been trying to figure that one out myself." Dean said.
"Can you move your chair?" Sam asked trying to pull his away.
"Nah! Mines bolted to the wall." Dean moved to prove his point.
"Have you tried calling out for help?" Sam asked and then groaned at his slip up.
He knew his brother. Dean wouldn't call him for help let alone another soul. Dean would rather die than put Sam's life in jeopardy.
"Yeah, sure... Why not, cry like a couple of girls at it? Maybe our captors would come in and give us a kiss on our boo-boo's. Make it feel better?" Dean taunted.
"Come on, Sammy! Think! They put us here for a reason!" Dean yelled.
"Sorry, for waking up and putting you here! Dude, you got caught, too!" Sam yelled back.
He couldn't believe his brother was picking a time like this to start a fight.
"Maybe, it wasn't you who put me in here physically but... Man, they sure pulled the wool over your eyes!" Dean shook his head.
That one stung and Dean had no idea how much it had stung him. Sam lowered his head trying to avoid his brother's gaze. Tears were burning the back of his eyes, but this was no time to cry.
After some time, he cleared his throat "Just, try to see if you can get us out of here, Superman!"
"Why?" Dean said flatly.
Sam gawked at his brother's stone cold gaze: "Why!?"
"Yeah! Why should I help you out of this? Why should I help you out this time, Sammy?" Dean shrugged.
"You seem to be my kryptonite. Why should I come to the rescue?" Dean continued.
"This is not funny!" Sam said angrily.
"Wasn't trying to be. Why should I save your ass, Sammy? Man, sometimes, I get so tired, that I wanna..." Dean said in a small voice, looking away.
Sam didn't like the way, this conversation was going. Dean's profile had him worried.
"Tired that you wanna what?" Sam nearly yelled at his brother.