One week. That's how long you've been held by Dean, and you didn't mean in the loving, caring way he did early in your relationship. Ever since that first day he brought you to the motel, you have been tied to the bed, at his mercy. Some days were better than others, for instance today he has spent most of his time at the bar down the street, drinking, and singing karaoke. Or at least that's what Crowley told you when he came back to check on you.

This time you were once again tied to the bed , with enough rope length that you could use the bathroom if needed, your hands tied in front of you, with a rope tied to the headboard. You had searched for anything to cut the rope, but Dean was careful, and kept everything just out of reach. As you laid there, you fought against the withdrawal from the pill Sally had given you. It had been strong, giving you the burst of energy you had needed at the time, but it had slowly worn off, and your body ached, the bites on your neck had stopped healing, and you were ridicoulsy weak. It also didn't help that Dean had decided to use you as his personal play toy, carving decorations into your body, or using it for his own personal release. It was horrible, and there were times you wished you were back at the club, or even dead. Anything would be better than watching the love of your life as a cruel Demon.

"Darling, how are you doing? I brought sustenance." Crowley said, appearing out of nowhere. He held a plate with a sandwich in one hand, and a bottle of water in the other.

"Crowley, do you remember when you didn't want me near Dean? Why don't you let me go, so you can go back to your plan." You begged, using him as your last resort.

Crowley placed the sandwich on the bed, before sitting on the edge of the other one. "My dear, that was before he was a Demon. But now that he is a knight of hell, I really don't care. You keep him from going after all the bimbos at the bar, and he can satisfy his blood lust on you. I suspect soon he will kill you. This situation is working well for me." He told you before transporting out of the room, probably back to the bar and Dean.

Grabbing the sandwich, you took a bite, grateful that they at least remembered to feed you. As you ate, you heard the tell tale signs of the door being picked. Crouching down beside the bed, you waited, wondering what new horror awaited you beyond the door.

The door opened, and a tall silhouette stood in the door frame, the body taking up most of the light shining through. Cowering beside the bed, hidden from his view, you watched as he swung his gun around, making sure the room was empty, before turning on the light.

"Sam!" You gasped, shaking your head in disbelief that your best friend was standing in front of you. A friend you hadn't seen in over six months, one that you had thought you would never see again. He stood frozen, glancing around the room, trying to figure out where your voice had come from. Your legs shaking, you stood, using the bed for support. After the club, and being held by Dean, you had little strength left, and you spent most of your time laying in bed, asleep.

Sam finally noticed you, and his eyes widened in shock. "Y/N?" He asked, not believing his eyes. "Is that really you? I thought you were dead! You ran off, I couldn't find you.." He said, moving closer, the gun still up as if he couldn't believe you were real.

"Sam." You said again, your voice sick with emotion, you ran to him, forgetting about your pain, forgetting about the rope, until you reached the end of the tether, and it yanked you back and you fell on the floor, moaning in pain. Sam came running over then, helping you to your feet and guiding you back to the bed.

Once you were safely sitting down, Sam turned the lamp on, illuminating your darkened features. Crouching down in front of you, he looked up and down your body, noticing how much weight you had lost, the dark circles under your eyes, how pale your skin had become, along with the various cuts and bruises that decorated your entire body.

Tears forming in his eyes, he leaned forward, pulling you into his embrace. "Shit Y/N, I'm so sorry. I've tried looking for you, but your trail went cold, and then Dean..." He started to say, but you stopped him.

"Sam don't worry about it. It's my fault, I'm the one who ran away. Can you get me out of here?" You asked, raising your arms to show the ropes that had dug into your skin.

Sam pulled a knife from his pocket, but before he cut the rope off, he winced. "I'm sorry to have to do this, but I need to make sure it's really you. Then I will get you out of here." He promised. He did the usual hunters tests, and you sat there quietly until he was finished.

"You're you." He said, a vibrant smile on his face. He cut the ropes, and you rubbed at where they had turned your skin raw.

"Now what?" You asked, wanting to get out of there before Crowley or Dean came back. They would not be happy to see you free, and they would especially not be happy to see Sam had finally found them.

"It's Dean isn't it? He found you, and he's keeping you here?" Sam guessed, frowning at the thought of his brother being the bad person.

Placing your hand on his shoulder, you explained what you knew. "It's not really him. Somehow the Mark turned him into a Demon."

"I know. That's why we need to get you out of here, and to somewhere safe. Then I will come back and..." Sam started to say, but was interrupted by a voice by the door.

"And what Sammy? Come back and try to save me? I told you to leave me alone." Dean growled, blocking the only exit.