"Iron Will" by Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

Chapter: 3

“Attention!” Mulroney strutted into the center of the room. “Prepare for inspection.”

He casually eyed the lineup of men, holding his own feelings in check as he briefly caught Sam’s gaze. “These are all the recruits you have?”

Mulroney nodded. “We had a deployment last month, a group of five shipped out. It takes time to rebuild ranks when you’re looking for quality.”

“And you don’t want to raise suspicions.” Caleb knew all too well how easy it was for a kid to be lost in the fucked-up legal system and how an organization like the DOA could use the public’s ignorance to further their exploitation of the problem.

Mulroney laughed. “You wouldn’t believe how easy it is. Like stealing someone’s trash and turning it for a profit they never miss.”

“Perhaps I should explain that to my employer and see if he wants to bargain for a better price?”

Mulroney stuttered. “No…I mean, getting the labor is only the beginning. The process of training is…”

“Easy, big fella. I was joking.” Caleb held up his hand, forcing a quick grin. “The Anici’s reputation is beyond reproach.”

Mulroney rubbed his forehead. “Right. I didn’t want to give the wrong impression.” The two stopped in front of a tall, muscular boy with pale blond hair and freckles. Caleb would have read the kid, but kept his mental focus on Mulroney. It took concentration to sift through the man’s mind, finding the precise thing he was looking for, the correct buttons to push. He needed time alone with the boys. Mulroney was going to oblige one way or the other.

“This is Edward Jonas. Jonas is a senior cadet,” Mulroney said. “He helps with the new recruit’s transition.”

“Sir.” Edward saluted.

“At ease, kid,” Caleb gave the teen another once over. “How long have you been in the program?”

Edward looked to Mulroney for permission to speak. The sergeant nodded. “Mr. Seaver is here representing a prospective investor.” Mulroney winced, massaging his temples. “The uhh…the colonel asked me to give him a quick tour of the facilities.”

“Two years, Sir,” Edward answered.

“He’s the cream of the crop. I handled his training myself.”

“I see.” Caleb turned to study Mulroney “You’re like a drill sergeant?”

“Something like that.” Mulroney gave a grin. Caleb clenched his fists as the man’s thoughts crossed the open link he’d established. Mulroney was a sadist, enjoying the power he wielded over the teens. His sleazy smile vanished instantly as Mulroney grabbed at his head. “What the…”

“Are you alright?” Caleb reached out and steadied the sergeant, his touch increasing the control he could exert. “You don’t look so good.”

“Damn headache,” Mulroney hissed.

Caleb tightened his grip. “I get bad migraines myself,” Caleb said. “I usually end up worshipping the porcelain god.”

“It’s nothing.” Mulroney shook off Caleb’s touch. “I’m fine.”

Caleb’s mouth twitched as he found what he was looking for. The brain was an amazing structure. “You sure?”

Mulroney doubled over, looking as green as the uniform shirt he was wearing. Edward took a wary step away from the man as the sergeant straightened himself, looking on the verge of tossing his guts on the barracks floor. “Jonas…finish the tour.” The sergeant gestured to the door. “I’ll be back.”

---------------------------------------------

Dean felt Henry tense beside him as Caleb started their way with his bull charging a red cloak determination on his face. “No worries, Hank. The Calvary has arrived.”

“Sammy.”

Damien touched the vivid bruise on Sam’s face, Dean flushed with guilt. He should have kept Mulroney from laying a hand on his brother. He saw his own anger blaze in his best friend’s eyes as Caleb came to stand in front of him. “You guys alright?”

“Dean’s really sick,” Sam said.

“Sam…” Dean started to shake his head, blinking rapidly when his balance betrayed him. Spots of bright lights sparked off and on, Dean was sure he was headed for the floor when Caleb gripped his arm.

“Deuce.”

“I’m okay.” It was a lie. Dean’s back was on fire, his body thrumming with the intense ache, but he forced his eyes open, trying to offer up some kind of smirk. Caleb’s pissed off face had morphed into his worried one. The crazed grizzly bear routine was on the way.

“I see you’ve been making friends while away at camp.”

“No one to write home about.” Dean cut his gaze to Lopez. “Just Henry. We’ve bonded over baseball. Unlike you and Sammy, he can actually throw one over home plate.”

“Since when did baseball become a full contact sport? You don’t look in any shape to be tossing the ball around, Kiddo.”

Caleb knelt in front of him, his expression grim. Dean was sure his best friend was mentally cataloging his long list of aches and pains. The psychic thing always put Dean at a disadvantage where Damien was concerned. He couldn’t hide what he was feeling, although playing their familiar game gave Dean a sense of comfort. “I still look better than you with your bitch face.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Caleb rested a hand on his knee; Dean knew it was to provide a better read on him. He hoped to spare his friend the telepathic instant replay.

“Three words, Dude.” Dean forced a grin to take some of the sting away. “Corporal punishment sucks.”

Sam crushed his attempts at watering down the graphic version. “He has a bad burn to his shoulder and they whipped him.”

Caleb looked to Sam. “They?” Caleb let loose with a string of words, which would have cost him a week of memorizing and reciting Bible verses at Jim’s house. “They who exactly?”

“Dude, you’re scaring the locals.” Dean glanced at Henry. “Look over his bad manners, Hank. He gets his feathers ruffled when he’s in mother hen mode.” There would be no good to come from rehashing what had happened. The important thing was to find out what Dad’s plan was because Dean had no doubt his father was somewhere close by.

“This changes things.” Caleb moved his hand to Dean’s brow. His fingers felt cold, Dean resisted the urge to lean into the other man’s touch, to turn over the reigns. “I need to get you two out of here. Now.”

Getting out sounded good. Dean swallowed, trying to bring moisture to his dry throat. Having someone to take over, to help Dean keep Sam safe was even better. Damien was the perfect person for the job.

“How?” Sam inched closer. “They’re guards everywhere.”

Caleb looked at him. “This place have a back door?”

“You’re full of surprises today.” Dean pulled away from Caleb as his common sense returned. “First I thought your ability to make a person want to run away and hurl only worked on women, and now you’re telling me you have a stealth cloaking system, too?”

“Good to see you can engage the smart ass mode.” Caleb moved his hand to the back of Dean’s neck, giving a gentle squeeze. “How many people am I looking at taking out to get us the hell out of here?”

Dean licked his lips, letting the chick flick move slide. “Too many, Damien. And this whole operation needs to be shut down.” Dean could see the wheels turning. Damien wasn’t the only one good at reading people. “You better stick with Dad’s original plan.”

“I can’t leave you two here.”

Dean could empathize. If the situation was reversed there would be no way he could walk away from Sam and Caleb. “What part of armed military encampment don’t you understand?”

Caleb ran a hand through his hair. “I saw the armed guards when I came in.”

“Mulroney has a partner, too,” Sam said. “He’s always covering our barracks.”

“The retired jarhead, Smith. Right. I met him.”

“What’s going on?” Edward demanded. “Who is this?”

Dean glared at Jonas. “None of your damn business, Eddie. Go back to your post.”

Caleb motioned to the front of the room. “And get one of your men to watch the door, Gomer Pyle.”

“What? No. I’m going to get…”

Dean had to give Edward credit. The guy was stubborn, but no match for the Winchester obstinacy.

Sam stepped forward, blocking Eddie’s path. “Do what he says, Edward. We can help you.” Sam gestured to the rest of the recruits watching them. “All of you.”

“But…”

“Do it.” Caleb stood, moving alongside Sam. “Or when we take this place apart you’re going down with the bad guys.”

Dean was proud at the ferocity of Sam and Caleb. He noticed Damien raised his voice so the others would understand the threat included them. “And believe me when I say this place is going down.”

”Are you a cop?” Edward stared from Caleb to Dean. “Is this some kind of sting?”

“La policia?” Henry distanced himself further.

“He’s not a cop, dude,” Dean assured. The idea was almost funny considering Damien’s distrust of any kind of established authority. As for himself, thoughts of 21 Jump Street went through his head for a moment. He could so be Johnny Depp.

“Don’t worry about the details.” Caleb pointed at Edward. “Be a good squad leader and fill your boys in on their new mission.”

“Which is?”

“To keep their mouth shuts and their heads down.”

“You can trust him,” Sam added. “Just act as if nothing’s changed. He’s one of the good guys.”

“Funny.” Edward clenched his fists. “We’ve heard that before.”

“It’s your best chance, Eddie” Dean said. He felt for the guy, understood all too well about doing what was best for your family. The thing Edward couldn’t see was that his shelter was about to be blown to hell. He wouldn’t be able to protect his brother from the fall out unless he bet on them. “A lot better than being shipped off to some other man’s holy war or risking your ass for a lowlife drug cartel.”

Edward’s face changed into a look Dean was very familiar with. He’d seen it on Damien’s only a few moments before. Dean wore it daily. Edward glanced towards the others, his gaze resting on Brett, who was still standing by his bunk. “We’ll go along, but if this goes wrong…”

“It won’t,” Sam said.

Dean hoped his little brother wasn’t making a promise they couldn’t keep. “That pretty much rules out you taking us out the back door, Damien.”

The little gasp that escaped Dean didn’t make the bleak truth any easier to accept.

“Fuck,” Damien swore, pointing a finger at Edward. “Get that fucking door covered now.”

“Brett, watch the door.” Edward stalked towards the middle of the barracks. “Everyone else, get back into formation.”

Dean forced another grin. “Jim would be so disappointed in your diplomacy vocabulary, man.”

“Fuck diplomacy.”

“Where’s Dad?” Dean asked.

Caleb reclaimed the spot in front of Dean. “He and Mac are in Brownsford. It’s a virtual ghost town about fifteen miles from here.”

“How’d you find us?” Sam knelt by Caleb.

“Long story short, Pastor Jim put us in touch with a guy who knew a guy who knew my alias, Thomas Seaver. So much for Mac’s rant about me wasting time running in the cult circles.”

“I’m still with Mac.” Dean thought his friend spent too much energy on the demonic devout. “You need to let that shit go.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Says the genius who volunteered to go under in a suspected satanic human sacrificing cult.”

“News flash, demon watch dog. This isn’t a cult.”

“Really?”

“What’s the plan?” Sam said. He bumped his shoulder against Caleb’s, cutting off the bantering.

Dean appreciated his brother’s single-minded tenacity. He got that from their father. “I don’t think Dad expected you to walk in and waltz us out under your coat?”

"This is recon. Just to make sure you guys were being held here, and to see what we were up against. Busting a bunch of humans isn’t exactly our forte. I had a nightmare last night.” He met Dean’s gaze and Dean knew instantly who was cast in the lead of that little psychic show. “It prompted us to move up the timeline on getting information. We were lucky to come up with a contact.”

“I’m willing to bet Pastor Jim wouldn’t go for the whole A-Team thing,” Sam said. “It would be front page news.”

“I don’t know. Coming in with some heavy fire power and wiping the place out is sounding pretty damn good to me.”

“You can’t take them out in another way?” Dean lifted a hand to his head, raising a brow. He didn’t understand all the intricacies, but he’d seen Damien do some freaky shit. “Like you took care of Mulroney?”

Caleb shook his head. “I need close proximity and even then two’s about all I can handle.” His frown deepened. “I could try but…”

“No.” Dean glanced to Henry, then met Caleb’s gaze again. “Too risky for everyone else.” As much as Dean wanted to get his brother out of Camp Sadism, he couldn’t risk collateral damage to innocents. Caleb did not need to take the risk without backup.

“The colonel’s coming!”

Brett’s excited voice had the recruits snapping to attention and Caleb moving closer to him. “You two need to keep your heads down. We’ll be back before tomorrow. I promise.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean said. “What else could go wrong?”

Caleb gripped his forearm. “I mean it, Deuce. No more trouble. You got it?”

Dean nodded. “I’ll be good.”

“Sammy?” Caleb reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Take care of your brother. We just need a few hours.”

“I’ve been trying.”

“I understand, Runt.” Caleb winked at Dean. “It’s shitty, thankless work.”

“Fuck you, man.” Dean turned his hand so he could return his friend’s grip. Caleb tugged him to his feet and steadied him. “Having me around is the only reward you need.”

Caleb let him go, and Dean understood what the distance cost him as Damien gave one more longing look towards the doorway before stepping away from him and Sam. “Damn straight.”

-----------------------------------------------

Caleb let Dean go, quickly taking a step back as the door banged open. “Mr. Seaver?” The good colonel strolled into the bunkhouse, Smith right on his heels like a good hound. “I’m sorry about Sergeant Mulroney abandoning his post. It seems he’s come down with something. I hope Cadet Jonas was a good host in his vacancy.”

“Jonas was indeed helpful.” Caleb turned to face the colonel, inclining his head towards Dean. “Just inspecting your handiwork.”

“We demand obedience and respect at the DOA, both traits our clients pay a great deal for as I’m sure you’re well aware.” The colonel eyed Dean and Caleb worked hard at not reading the bastard. He didn’t trust his restraint. “I’ve broken more than my share of young broncs. I won’t tolerate a challenge to my authority.”

“That’s good business in our business.”

The colonel nodded. “A grunt who doesn’t understand chain of command is about as useful to a commander as a wild stallion is on a cattle drive. I doubt if your boss is scouting for undisciplined labor.”

“So you handle discipline personally?” Caleb maintained a neutral expression, although it was hard fought. “I pass judgment, deliver the appropriate sentence.” The colonel tapped the ever present crop against his thigh, gave a throaty laugh. “I allow the sergeants to dole out the punishment as it seems to strengthen their credibility with the recruits.

“My people won’t pay for a damaged product.”

The colonel grasped the crop with both hands. “As a great man once said, I can always create more soldiers, horses are expensive. If these men aren’t to your liking I can find others.”

Caleb folded his arms over his chest. “From what I’ve seen, I think we can do business.” He looked at Sam and then Dean. “These will be ready for purchase soon?”

“Certain breeds require a heavier hand that’s all.” The colonel nodded to Dean. “They are often the most valuable when tamed.”

“Meaning, I’m going to have to be a shrewd negotiator to keep the price reasonable.”

“You get what you pay for, son.” The colonel clasped Caleb’s shoulder and the psychic flinched. “I’m much more agreeable over a glass of whiskey and a good cigar.”

“I can work with those conditions.” Caleb glanced to the boys again. “As for these conditions, I happen to know a doctor who’s known for his ability to keep his business very confidential.” If he could plant a seed to get Mac in the door early it would provide them an inside gun and get Dean treatment faster.

“No need,” the colonel waved a hand, quashing the faint hope. “I have a doctor who is a trusted colleague. He’ll be here today after maneuvers. I assure you the group of recruits we provide your employer will be in excellent health.”

Caleb forced a grim smile. “He won’t accept anything less.” John would kill the man, or Caleb would. Either way, this would be the last business deal of the good colonel’s career.

--------------------------------------

Sam tightened his hold on his brother, helping Dean manage the last leg of the run. Smith had allowed him to help when Dean collapsed on the way back to camp. Thanks to Caleb, Mulroney was too sick to accompany them on morning maneuvers. Even with Smith’s leniency, the fact Dean made it out to the shooting range, climbing wall and part of the run was miraculous. He was paying for it now. The sun wasn’t at its peak, yet the temperature had spiked, sapping Dean of his reserves.

“We’re almost there.” Sam’s legs felt like jelly, Dean’s failing strength not helping matters.

Dean’s head dropped to his shoulder. “I need to…stop, Sammy.”

“Not yet,” Sam encouraged, blocking out his brother’s harsh pants. “You can make it.”

Dean gave a little snort. “Where’s one of the colonel’s fucking horses when you need them?”

The attempt at levity was appreciated. “I doubt if he thinks we’re worthy of his prize stock.”

“I can’t wait to show that sonofabitch what I think of him.”

Sam used his free hand to wipe sweat from his forehead. His hair was dripping, falling into his eyes. “I hope we’re out of here before you’re in any shape to take on that task.”

“Damien will do it for me.”

Sam didn’t doubt that. Caleb could be as vigilant a protector as Dean. “Or Dad.”

The possibility had Dean looking up, some clarity in his green eyes. “Show’em what a real soldier is made of.”

Sam shouldered more of Dean’s weight as he caught sight of the camp’s high gate in the distance. “I think you already did that, big brother.”

Dean stumbled, but Sam kept him on his feet. “We’re coming in dead last after Hank, Sammy. Dad would shit.”

Sam gritted his teeth, refusing to point out that Dean was injured and near delusional. Sam would never forgive their father for Dean’s belief that no matter what he did, it was never enough. “You finished and you’re conscious. That’s more than anyone could have done. Maybe you are descended from the Anici.”

“Dragon slayers?” Dean grunted. “I don’t think so.”

“They were considered heroes.” Sam had started the debate on the way back, hoping to distract his brother from the pain he was in, and chose to continue to help them finish the task at hand. “Unconquerable, even by the greatest of embodiment of evil represented by the dragon.”

“I prefer Merlin’s take on things. Dragons are the good guys.”

“So said the jade dragon, Athewm.” Over the years Sam found some of the wonder wearing off Pastor Jim’s tales of winged magical sentries. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if Prince Samuel was being protected from danger or guarded from escaping to somewhere the danger didn’t exist. He sighed; thankful the bunkhouse was only a few feet away now that they had passed through the fence line. “I guess it depends on who is telling the story.”

“I guess,” Dean muttered, and Sam felt a stab of remorse for bringing it up.

“We’re here,” he said. Dean didn’t reply, allowing his brother to guide him into the barracks where Henry greeted them with a canteen of cold water. “I was worried.”

Sam helped Dean to the bed, offering him a drink of water, before taking some for himself. He noticed the other recruits were standing at the end of their bunks, looking exhausted, but alert. “What’s going on?”

Henry shifted on his feet, glancing towards the door. “Edward said the colonel has called a special meeting.”

“Great.” Dean lifted his head, giving his brother a halfhearted smirk. “This day keeps getting better.”

“Maybe the doctor is here,” Sam said. The veterinarian wasn’t looking so bad now.

The look on the colonel’s face when he entered, and the fact he was accompanied by two more armed men than usual lent to this not being a good visit, or even a typical inspection. Edward reclaimed his role as good platoon leader, calling the troops to attention. Sam and Henry got Dean on his feet, although his brother was unable to maintain form. “Just a few more hours,” Sam whispered. He hoped to remind Dean of Caleb’s assurance of his return before the night was over.

Dean nodded. Sam wasn’t comforted by the idea his brother was too sick to be insubordinate. He turned his focus to the colonel in the center of the room, flanked by Mulroney and Smith. The other guards stayed at the door.

“I received some disturbing news this morning.” The colonel looked towards Sam. “It would seem there are traitors among us.”

Dean kept his head down, but Sam heard his brother’s soft words. “How much you want to bet he means us?”

“Do you have something to say on the matter, Cadet Winchester?”

The colonel moved closer to them. Sam bit his lip, clamping down on those Winchester instincts. When he didn’t reply, the colonel stepped toe to toe with the younger Winchester.

“I’m talking about sedition, mutiny, high treason.”

Dean lifted his head, smirked. “Sounds duplicitous.”

The colonel’s reached out and gripped Dean’s chin. “I’m talking about Mr. Seaver. Thomas Seaver.”

Dean pulled away, and Sam tightened his hold on his brother to keep him from falling. “Who?”

“The dumb act doesn’t suit you, Baby Winchester,” Mulroney said. “You can’t pull it off as well as your brother.

"The guy you brought in this morning?” Sam looked to the sergeant, hoping the sound of his heart thundering in his chest wasn’t audible outside his head. “What about him?”

The colonel laid his riding prop against Sam’s face, directly over the bruise on his cheek pressing hard enough to hurt. “I understand that he was very interested in you and your brother.”

“He asked about Dean’s injuries,” Sam spoke carefully, refraining from looking towards Edward. The bastard had turned them in. “That’s it.”

“I told your potential customer to go fuck himself,” Dean said. “Did he tattle on me?”

The colonel removed the whip, clenching the leather braid in his hand. “On the contrary, he didn’t say anymore about you.”

“Then what’s this about?” Sam said.

The colonel’s face contorted with eyes full of fury. He snapped the crop against his thigh, glaring at Sam. “Who is he?”

Dean’s shoulders straightened, his body going rigid beside Sam. “How the hell should we know?”

“I have it on good authority that you seemed to know him very well.” The colonel jabbed the prop into Dean’s chest. “I hear he came here to break you and your brother out.”

Dean snorted. “He sure as hell did a shitty job of that.”

The colonel smiled. “That he did.”

“If he knew us, do you think he would have left us here after what you did to Dean?”

“I know he won’t get another chance.” Mulroney looked at Dean. “If he shows his face here again it will be the last thing he does.”

Dean’s jaw flexed, his eyes flashing dangerously at the sergeant's confident smirk. “What are you going to do, Mulroney? Throw up on him?”

The colonel put out a restraining hand to keep the sergeant from going after Dean. “My orders are for him to be shot on sight and dropped in the desert for the scorpions and vultures to devour.”

Dean shrugged. “Sounds like bad business to me, but what the hell do I care.”

“Maybe you’ll feel differently after some time in solitary.” The colonel nodded to Mulroney. “Escort Cadet Winchester to the courtyard.”

“No!” Sam moved in front of his brother. The thought of what Mulroney might do further knotting his gut. “He didn’t do anything but tell you the truth. We didn’t know that man.” He glared over at Edward Jonas. “Maybe the person who lied to you about us had a reason to do so. People don’t like change, especially if their position in rank is threatened.”

The colonel continued as if Sam was speaking gibberish. He pointed to the barred window, his hawk eyes never leaving Sam’s face. “Have you noticed our special accommodations out there, Cadet Winchester? Solid iron box, one tiny slat for air. On a day like this we call it the oven. You’re obviously a very smart, boy. Is keeping up this façade really worth your brother’s life? I daresay in his condition he won't last very long under such stress.”

Sam looked from Mulroney back to the colonel, feeling Dean’s touch on this back. He knew the rules. Never break, never talk. Giving the enemy what they wanted only resulted in a certain, swift death. Sam shook his head. “Nothing is worth more to me than my brother’s life.” He blinked, feeling his eyes burn. “I’ll make something up if you want, but I don’t know that man and neither does Dean.”

The colonel continued to stare at him, Sam didn’t blink, standing firm under the scrutiny. He watched the other man’s countenance waver, almost sighed when the colonel whipped his head to stare up the line of recruits.

”He’s lying!” Brett Jonas stepped forward out of formation cracking under the pressure. “That man Seaver knew their names. I swear he did. He said he was going to take the DOA down, like he was a cop or something.”

“Brett.” Edward grabbed his brother’s arm, but the younger boy pulled away from him.

“No!” Brett pointed an accusing finger at Sam. “Ask him how he promised us all that we’d be taken care of-that we’d be safe if we just kept our mouths shut.”

“Is that true, Jonas?” Mulroney turned an icy glare to Edward. “Did you hear the same thing?”

Edward dropped his gaze to the floor. “He seemed to recognize the Winchesters, Sir.”

“And you’re just now coming forth with this information?”

“Leave it,” the colonel ordered Mulroney before returning his hard gaze to Sam. “It seems you and Cadet Jonas have two very different perceptions of what took place here this morning.” Sam felt sucker-punched. He suspected Edward of the betrayal, not that Brett would feed them to the wolves. It explained why the younger boy had asked for permission to go back for his hat, going so far as to offer it to Dean later in the day to shield him from the beating sun.

“He’s mistaken.” Sam stepped forward, not expecting the sting of the crop as it smacked against his face. He instinctively brought his hand to his mouth, his lip stinging where the strap had laid it open. Sam ducked his head when the colonel brought the crop down for another blow that had Sam’s head ringing. Dean slipped free from Sam’s hold, lunging for the colonel with a strangled roar.

“You sonofabitch…”

Mulroney moved in front of the colonel, catching Dean by the throat. Smith stepped in to help restrain Dean. The colonel grabbed Sam by the shirt, giving him a teeth rattling shake. The old man was stronger than he looked, nearly lifting Sam’s feet off the ground. “You think I’m a fool, boy? You think you’re so smart? So high and mighty? Do I look stupid to you?”

Sam had sparred enough with Caleb and Dean to know not to give into the pain firing his temper into a white hot rage. He shook his head, sticking to his story. Sometimes the Winchester stubbornness was useful. “I’m not lying.”

The colonel pushed him away with a disgusted grunt. “Tell me that when we pull your brother’s corpse out of that box in the morning.”

Sam wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, glancing to Dean who was still attempting to put up a fight. “Don’t do this.”

The colonel turned his back to Sam as Mulroney and Smith dragged Dean from the room. Henry stepped in, stopping Sam from following. “You will not help your hermano if you are dead.”

The door shut. Sam pulled himself away from Henry’s grasp, going to the window that allowed a small view of the courtyard. He watched the colonel use his key to open the iron box. Sam gripped the bars separating him from Dean, watching helplessly as Mulroney and Smith shoved his brother inside.

“He will be okay.”

Henry’s soft declaration brought no comfort; instead it was the deafening crack in Sam’s thinning control. He whirled to face the other boys, going for Brett.

He didn’t give the teen a chance to say anything before he hit him. The sound of flesh striking flesh eliciting an entirely different kind of feeling in Sam than it had the night before when Mulroney was the one dishing out undo punishment to Henry. It felt good to lash out at someone. Sam would have hit the taller boy again if his first punch hadn’t put the blond teen on his ass, hand cupping his bleeding nose.

“If my brother dies, I will kill you,” Sam said.

“He made a mistake. He was afraid,” Edward spoke up, positioning himself between Sam and Brett. “I told you what we came from, Winchester.”

“We could have helped!” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “My father will be here soon. What part of rescue didn’t you understand?”

“I’m sorry!” Brett pushed to his feet, blood dripping from his face, tears swimming in his blue eyes. “I couldn’t let you and your brother mess everything up. I won’t go back. I can’t.”

Sam clenched his fists, hating he felt an unwelcome and undeserved sense of pity for the other teen. “I can’t let my brother bake out there in that box.” He knew help was on the way, but wasn’t sure when his father would arrive. Dean couldn’t stay out there all night.

Edward stepped closer to him. “Maybe we can help with that?”

“Like Brett helped us by keeping his mouth shut?” Sam looked from the older Jonas to Brett. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because you don’t have any other choice.” Edward inclined his head to the other recruits. “And we all understand what that’s like…”

Sam licked his lips, trying to think like Dean, wondering what his father would tell him to do. Trusting outsiders was an absolute never in their family, but this was a life and death situation. Dean’s life. Sam would take the risk. “What do you have in mind?”

To be continued...