Happy Halloween! Ahhh! Happy sad moment right now! I'm happy because I managed to post every single day this month woohoo! I'm happy because I really love all the little fics I wrote this month! And i'm sad because this is the last one! :( This was a happy distraction from work and life this month and I'm so going to miss it. I am not done writing tho, so don't fear! I have oodles more SPN stories to come! :) No idea when I'll post the next one, but I will be continuing to post stories.
Thank you all SOOOOOO much for your wonderful, encouraging reviews this month! I'm totally blown away by all the lovely notes you've all sent me. :) they truly mean the world to me! 3
Alright, here we go! Last prompt for Whumptober 2020!
No. 31: TODAY'S SPECIAL - TORTURE
prompt options: Experiment, Whipped, Left for Dead
Sam woke up dead.
No, not really dead.
Close enough that he'd been left in the grass for time and blood loss to finish what the black dog had started. He'd killed the dog before it had killed any of the innocent nature hikers they'd come to save. The volume of blood saturating his clothes indicated that perhaps the black dog had done exactly what the hikers had said - killed him.
It killed him! Look at the blood! There's no way...he's not breathing. We have to go! Leave him. We can't save him. What if there's more of those monsters? We'll be dead too if we try to drag him with us.
The words of the hikers had drifted over him, but he'd still been in the process of fighting his way back to consciousness and they'd scurried off before he could prove conclusively he wasn't dead. Not that it probably would have mattered. They were terrified people focused on saving their own skin.
Left for dead.
It wasn't the first time.
Sam's eyes finally won the battle to open and he stared up at the tree branches. The wind gently swayed the branches, sunlight flickering through the leaves. Early afternoon sunlight warmed his face even as blood loss chilled him to the core.
It had been a pretty day. A good day for a hike. A good day to take on a vicious killing machine terrorizing a small tourist town.
He shifted his right arm, the disturbing sensation of blood flowing where it wasn't supposed to sent him into a bout of shivering that rattled his teeth.
Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard.
They'd split up. Two groups of hikers - freakin' morons Dean had called them - so they'd each gone after one group. Hoping to get the people to safety without encountering the black dog had been a worthy but ultimately unachievable goal. At least the hikers were safe. That was all the consolation available to him at the moment.
They left me.
It wasn't the first time he'd been left for dead, but his heart still skipped a beat at the horror of it.
"Dean?" he called out, his voice a wisp of sound floating on the breeze.
Dean surely was on his way by now. Sam didn't have the strength to lift his arm to check the time. He couldn't remember when he'd found the hikers. Had no way of knowing how long it had been since they'd left him.
All too clearly, though, he remembered when the dog had attacked. When he'd gone down, agony slicing through him as the dog shredded his skin. Fighting with everything he had as the hikers scattered and screamed.
It was useless and just wasting his breath, but saying his brother's name was something to hold onto. Something to keep him focused on survival instead of death. Dean was coming for him, he had no doubt on the matter. What he did doubt was whether or not he would still be alive when Dean found him.
Gritting his teeth, he shifted. His body seemed completely drained of strength if not of blood. Moving his left arm was like moving a mountain. His right side was a confusing mix of numbness and nightmarish pain. Left hand finally landing on his chest, he inched it across his body until he was touching…
A scream tore from his throat as his fingers touched bloody, torn flesh.
The world blacked out.
Sometime later, he surfaced again.
This time, it was dark. Had it been dark before?
He didn't know where he was. Didn't remember how he'd gotten...wherever. Fighting the waves of numbing blackness didn't seem worth the effort, but something made him try anyway. He lifted his left arm. It was heavy and shaking and covered in blood.
Allowing his arm to drop back to his chest, he tilted his head to the right. The world swum dizzyingly. Everything was pulsing and shifting around him. Through the haze, he caught a glimpse of his right side.
If he could feel anything, he would probably be screaming in pain.
The thought was amusing but he couldn't laugh. He was too shocked, too bewildered, too terrified by what he saw. Bloody, torn flesh. Deep gashes, possibly down to bone.
Is my arm still attached?
It was a disturbing consideration, but meant nothing.
Unable to remember what he'd just been thinking about, Sam drifted away on a gentle wave of darkness.
A torrent of profanity welcomed him back to consciousness.
Sam opened his eyes to see his whole world right in front of him.
"Sammy," Dean breathed out the word. One of his hands was on Sam's forehead, one was resting lightly on his chest. "Hang on, ok, we're getting you out of here."
Having no clue where here was, Sam just nodded. Dean was here and that was all that mattered. He closed his eyes.
"No, no, no." Dean patted his cheek. "Stay with me."
Forcing his eyes open again, Sam squinted up at his brother. "Happened?"
"Some kind of wild animal tore you up."
There was something cryptic in the statement, something warning in Dean's expression, but Sam couldn't decipher any of it. So he took it at face value, too tired to pursue the topic.
"We're getting you to the hospital."
Sam allowed his gaze to look beyond his brother. Lights. Faces. He was floating, moving under the trees. People talking. Beeping monitors. A mask over his face. A bag of something red hanging from something above him.
A flicker of a memory.
He'd fought it.
He was bleeding.
He was left for dead.
"Dying?" he asked, seeking his brother's gaze again.
"No." Dean sounded very certain and it was reassuring.
"They left me."
"I know." The words were soft but the fury in Dean's eyes was red hot.
"Thought..thought I was dead."
"They said you were dead." He choked on the words. "But I didn't buy it. I didn't buy it."
"I thought...I was dead."
"You held on for me." Dean smiled. "I was coming for you. Always will."
"Always wait for you."
Things got a little disorienting after that and he lost sight of his brother. Just as panic started to flood him, Dean was back in his line of vision.
"I'm right here. We're in the ambulance. Get you fixed up at the hospital, ok?"
It sounded like a great plan. Sam frowned. Something he was forgetting. Something important. Fishing around his jumbled memories, he finally remembered.
"Did you bring it?" Sam murmured as the ambulance started to move.
"Bring what?" Dean asked, leaning close.
"Did y'get it?" The words slid together but it was really important. Maybe it couldn't be put back on, but maybe it could.
Dean's eyes went wide. A shocked laugh burst out, then he was shaking his head, tears in his eyes as he said, "Your arm's still attached, Sammy."
"Yes, it is." Dean smiled, still shaking his head. He brushed a hand through Sam's hair. "Your arm's fine. Well, you need a lot of stitches, but it's fine. Fine-ish."
Someone else laughed about that, but Sam just concentrated on holding his brother's gaze. There was nothing but absolute sincerity in Dean's eyes.
"Ok," Dean said, his smile a little wider.
Sam smiled back.
He'd been left for dead but Dean had found him and that was all that really mattered in the end.
Thank you again for reading! Take care and I'll catchya with another fic in the near future!