“The Machiavellian Prince” by Tidia

Since love and fear can hardly exist together, if we must choose between then, it is far safer to be feared than loved.

Chapter 3.

The downstairs security guard shook his head as he watched Mackland Ames's son and friend run into the building. They had been very busy tonight. The guard watched them in the elevator until they exited on the eighth floor. There were no cameras on the hallways of the floors. The guard shrugged his shoulders.

Mackland heard the door slam. He checked on his patient, who was still resting, then went to greet John and Caleb, closing the bedroom door as he exited.

"How's he doing?" John asked, heading for the bedroom.

Ames stopped him, wanting some time to talk away from Dean. "I had to sedate him again. I can't keep doing that. Midazolam is an amnesic, also causes problems with coordination."

"Is Jim here?" Caleb looked around, not sensing the pastor. They had been gone three hours, enough time for him to travel from Kentucky to New York.

"He got a direct flight out of Louisville. My driver just picked him at JFK." Mac replied to his son, but still kept a hold of his friend's arm. "John, I want your permission to put Dean in a drug induced coma."

John frowned. "Is that safe?"

Mac licked his lips. "In a hospital, yes, but here, there may be problems. . ." His explanation was interrupted by a crashing noise from the bedroom.

Caleb opened the door, surprised to find that Dean had made it out of bed. He was sitting in the corner of the room with his IV ripped out. Some of the duct tape was stuck to his skin. The young hunter held a piece of glass in his hand and made a slice in his forearm. He licked the blood, tingeing his mouth and lips red.

"That's disgusting Deu-Dean." Caleb grimaced.

"Son, put down the glass." John lowered himself down to the floor. "You need to trust me." He reached out, hoping Dean would hand over the broken glass. He cursed himself silently for not removing all breakables from the room.

Dean wrapped his hands around his head, firmly holding the glass. "I've done that. You think I like the plans that have been made, what I've done. . ."

Reaves lowered himself to the floor too.

Dean looked wildly at the other hunter. "Stay away…just let me go," he hissed.

"We can't do that, Dean." Reaves tried to edge closer.

Dean brought his hands down, and opened his arms out wide. "You've already broken me."

The young hunter looked up and saw Pastor Jim now in the room. Dean cocked his head to the side and licked the blood off his lips. "Here I am the sacrificial lamb - all part of your scheme. Give up on Dean, feed him to the wolves."

Jim stepped forward, but Mackland shook his head.

Dean crunched the glass in his hand and didn’t register any pain as his hand dripped blood. "I'm not real. Disappeared - for you, for your cause." He sobbed, and pounded his chest. "I still carry the guilt - it's heavy."

"We can help you. I can carry the guilt for awhile." Pastor Jim said as tears ran unchecked down his face, never imagining Dean Winchester being brought to this state.

The blond shook his head. "You're not going to help me. You never could."

John reached out, and Dean shifted further away. "You're trying to break me!" he yelled, then started to laugh. "I'm already broken." The laughing turned into panting and Dean fixed his glare at the psychic. "Get out of my head!"

"Caleb, don’t go into his mind…back off," Mackland said to his son, placing a hand on Caleb's shoulder to break the contact.

It was too late. Reaves had seen an opportunity and he took it, forcing himself into Dean's mind. But it was a jumbled tangle, impossible to comprehend. Caleb felt an immediate headache. He grabbed his head as he retreated. Mac was at his side.

"Who's gonna save me?" Dean began to rock back and forth, banging his head against the wall. Sobbing he uttered, "I'll be good. I promise. Just don't leave me. . . "

The hunters waited, John and Caleb on the floor, Pastor Jim and Mackland hovering, waiting for the tragic scene to finish. They remained until the young hunter was exhausted and stopped banging his head. John reached out with tenderness none of them had seen and pulled his son close to him in a hug. Dean dropped the glass, and John with Caleb's help brought Dean back to bed. "Do what you need to do Mackland."

Ames nodded, and immediately pulled out the drugs he would need.

John held his son's arms, although the fight seemed to have left Dean for the moment.

"I need to see the object," Jim stated.

"It's in my pocket."

The pastor went into the canvas jacket John was still wearing. He studied the trinket box for a moment before excusing himself. "I'll be right back."

Dean's wrist were raw from the duct tape, the IV's removal had left a mess. Mackland started another line at the inside of the elbow, and tossed his son a blood pressure cuff to place on Dean's other arm, below the injury. A monitoring of Dean's blood pressure would be needed as the doctor prepped to place Dean in a drug induced coma.

"Are we calling Sam?" Caleb asked, looking at John who had focused solely on his son.

John shook his head, letting Dean's wrists go when Mackland nodded. "No, I'm betting on Jim."

Caleb's eyes flashed in anger. "This isn’t a game of poker, Johnny, this is your son."

"House always wins, kid." John stood up, and waited for Caleb to step away. The psychic gave his mentor a wide passage, and watched him leave the room.

"Dad, is Dean going to be all right?"

"I hope so. I hope so."

The comatose state saved Dean the agony that the others witnessed. Jim burned the handkerchief, sprinkling the ashes into the cursed cut.

With a lighter, he heated a brass knife he had brought with him. The yellow glow of the hot metal mesmerized the hunters. Caleb had never seen the pastor work with these elements. It was another side of the Guardian.

The knife was placed against the wound, sealing it with a smell of burning flesh.

"That'll leave a mark," Caleb commented. The remark was ignored.

They leaned in, watching as the black particles of the burned handkerchief were absorbed and then disappeared completely as they ate away at the infection until only the original thin cut shone through.

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