FADED ▷ Sam Winchester [2]

3 | ANGEL IN DISTRESS

"Oh, I'll be long gone by the time Dean gets here," I tell him, making sure my pistol is secure against my waistband. "I just want to check it out, see what I can do." I turn back around and start walking again.

"Be careful," Cas calls after me. I wave my hand but don't say anything. I'm always careful.

My boots get wet as I walk through the grass, because it is still wet with morning dew. I take my gun into my hands as I walk around the outside of the house.

Around the back, I get hopeful as I see some double doors leading to a basement. I try to pull them up a little, but they are locked. Big surprise.

I glance around before leaning forward, trying to peek through the cracks in the doors. "Sam?" I say, trying to be loud and quiet at the same time, but that's harder than you think. I don't want those damn brits to hear me, but I need Sam to hear me.

I try not to think about what Sam's reaction will be when he sees me. No, it doesn't matter. What matters is getting him out of there, away from these crazy people.

Thinking fast, I bring my gun up and shoot the lock on the handles. I cringe at the loud noise, but cheer internally at the fact that I didn't miss. It's not too surprising though, because I never miss.

I pull open the doors and go down into the basement, my eyes adjusting quickly to the change of light. I notice Sam immediately, tied up to a chair in the middle of the room. His head is hanging so I can't see his face. He didn't look up when I walked inside, I can only hope he's still alive.

"Sam?" I say, trying to be quiet. When I get no answer, I press my fingers to his neck and get a pulse, feeling a little relieved.

I cringe and try to be gentle as I undo his restraints. He is bleeding in some places, his face a little cut up. "Sammy, come on," I mumble in frustration as I notice that there are restraints holding his feet too, but it looks like they need a key.

"Bailey," Sam's voice comes out, tired and scratchy. But he's okay. He manages to lift his head a little to look at me.

"Yeah," I say, feeling guilty already. Maybe if I hadn't left he wouldn't be in this situation, I could've helped him if I was there.

"You came back," he says quietly. I'm glad he's not yelling at me, but it's probably because he doesn't have the energy. Though, he doesn't seem like the type to yell anyway.

"Just take it easy," I say, letting my hand linger a little on his. He reacts at this, squeezing back.

"Where am I?" He asks, as I use my lock pick to try and open up the leg restraints.

"Missouri," I reply instantly. "Just out of Aldrich. Cas is outside. There's angel warding, so he couldn't come in. These are a bitch." I try helplessly to get the things unlocked but they just aren't budging.

"Hang on, I'm going to–" I stand up, ready to try something else when something hits me hard on the head. "Bitch," I say breathlessly, not knocked out yet, but it still hurt. I barely make out a head of blonde hair– darker than my own– before falling completely unconscious.

When I wake up, I feel something holding my hands up. My vision is blurry for a few moments. I see this pair of chains hanging from the ceiling, keeping my hands up. I immediately start panicking, pulling desperately on the chains for a few moments until my wrists start to hurt.

I should have waited for Dean.

I turn my head to look at Sam, who's at my left. He looks at me, and I can tell that he's tired. According to Cas, it's been a week since he's been gone. A week in this hell hole, getting tortured by these British men of letters. Well, one in particular.

For a moment, I just look at Sam's eyes. I remember a year ago, first meeting Sam and Dean at Jody's house. I remember gazing at Sam in infatuation and trying to pick out the color of his eyes, but it seemed like there were many colors mixed, and I couldn't pinpoint one in particular. But now, they just look brown, or maybe it's just because it's dark here in this cellar.

I want to say something to him, apologize, something, but before I can even consider what I could say to make up for what I did, that blonde haired British bitch appears and she comes down the stairs.

"Oh, good, you're awake," she tells me in her sickly sweet British accents. Ever since reading the Harry Potter books and watching the movies, I've loved British accents, but I'm afraid this bitch might ruin that for me. "Perhaps you'll prove to be more useful than Sam."

I don't say anything.

"I need names and locations of hunters," the British bitch says. I don't know her name, and I don't really care, so I'll just refer to her as the British bitch.

She goes on to say nonsense about how London has a much more skilled, professional group of hunters than we do here. It sounds like they want to try and get in touch with American hunters to work with them. Of course, she could be nicer about it. She didn't have to go to the lengths of kidnapping Sam.

    "So, names and locations?" Toni Bevell asks, ready with the pen and paper as if I will say anything, like I was swayed at all by her little speech.

   I scoff. "You think I'm going to help you? You're dumber than you look."

    She purses her lips together but doesn't look the least bit offended by what I said. She stands up from the chair, putting the pen and pad down. She walks slowly over to her table of torturing 'tools' before slipping her fingers into a set of brass knuckles. I sigh again. Torture isn't what it used to be anymore. I get punched all the time.

    The bravado wears off when she steps towards me and punches me hard in the face. Yeah, I may get punched all the time, but never with those freaking brass knuckles.

    "Screw you," I mutter, tasting the metallic tingle of blood in my mouth.

   A few minutes and a few punches later, I hear a noise upstairs. This gets the British Bitch's attention as well, and she slowly puts down the torturing tools, going upstairs without a word.

    I breathe in relief, glad to have her away from me, even if it's just a moment. I feel some blood in my mouth so I spit it to the side. The side of my head is throbbing and I bet it's bleeding too.

    "Are you okay?" I hear Sam ask me.

    "I can't wait to kill her," I say. My mouth hurts so I don't say anything else.

"Bailey–" Sam begins, but the door at the top of the stairs jerks open to reveal the blonde bitch again.

"Screw yourself," Sam says.

The British Bitch reaches her hand the spot next to her hidden by the wall and pulls Dean into our vision. He is bound at the wrists with chains. What is it with this lady and chains?

"Dean," Sam says quietly as she drags Dean down the stairs and hooks the chains up towards the ceiling. Now he is stuck standing next to Sam, unable to move.

"I'm as happy to see him as you are," the bitch says. "'Cause while you may be able to withstand my snapping apart your body joint by joint, can you watch it happen to Dean?"

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A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated in two weeks, I've had insane writers block with this chapter, but the next one should come much quicker!