Chapter 1
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Author's note
This chapter initiates a new story arc, continuing from chapter 13 of "The Brotherhood: Riverdale Tales".
Here is a timeline drawing to help you get your bearings.
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Void.
Nothingness.
Oblivion.
Dean had stopped screaming for a long time now. It wasn’t due to the plug gag stuffing his mouth, nor to the muzzle locked atop of it, blocking his jaws, not even to the spandex hood passed over his head. All of these devices transformed any of his screams to an indistinct, barely audible mumble.
But no. It was the isolation.
After the lid had been shut down, he had tried to wriggle, to fight the straitjacket, the sleepsack, the muzzle, the hood. He had reaped nothing but oblivion. And a cold sweat that had been dampening his bondage outfit.
Minutes had passed. Then hours.
At first Dean had been trying to put his thoughts in order, to understand how he had ended up like this. How he had passed from child prodigy to pariah - how he had become a limp object put in a box after having been the best hunter in his generation. He had realized he had disregarded Sam’s warnings as well as other brotherhood members' ones. Dave’s especially. The truth was, he had just been acting like the solitary hunter he had used to be; he had not realized he was part of a whole now.
… was it too late?
Hours passed. Then days.
Dean had no sense of time. He could not distinguish day or night. Or even if he was awake or asleep. His throat had become coarse long ago. Some cramp occasionally appeared in his limbs, but he could do nothing to ease the pain. In fact, he almost welcomed it. Because the worst part of his punishment was not for his forcibly immobilized body. It was for his mind.
The coherent thoughts he had tried to achieve at first were now long gone. Hours by hours, he had felt like he was slowly losing his sanity…
And at last, just when he was ready to give up, Dean felt the lid being opened.
He just had time to feel a breeze of relatively fresh air before he felt a damp cold cotton being applied over his muzzled face, covering his nose. The sweet pungent scent indicated chloroform again. Dean welcomed it and breathed hastily in it. Better forced sleep than this oblivion.
He woke up in confusion. He opened his eyelids, but the light, yet faint, attacked his eyes. At first he thought he was still engulfed in his straitjacket and sleepsack, but realized he was just tucked tight in a bed. He slowly turned his head, opening his dried up mouth. No muzzle or gag either.
He finally managed to focus his sight. Sam was here, looking at him, sitting on the opposite bed, clad in a simple T-Shirt, pants and bare feet. They were in their quarters at the Brotherhood Temple.
“Sam…”, he croaked.
“There’s water on the table”, Sam just indicated, pointing at the small table, but not moving. “And food, too!”
Dean slowly sat up. His muscles felt numb. His whole body hurted due to his forced immobilization. He realized he was thirsty indeed. He took up the jug and drank it up avidly.
“Sam…”, he tempted, as he held it down. “Are you okay?”
“I… don’t think I wanna talk just right now”.
“Of course. He went through hell just like me”, Dean thought.
He started to chew on some bread in silence. Little by little, his body woke up, and Dean realized he had not had anything to eat for 48 hours.
Moments later, they heard a loud banging at their door.
“The Elder wants to see you!” a loud voice exclaimed. “Put up your cloaks, gloves and your boots, then face the wall, kneel hands on your heads. You have three minutes!”
Dean shuddered at that announcement. “We’re still prisoners then?”
“The door was locked anyway”, Sam simply commented as he slipped on his laceless brown boots.
Dean gathered his own dark brown logger boots. The two brothers then gathered their cloaks and locked them around their shoulders with the skull pin around their necks - the emblem of the Brotherhood, and a reminder of their mortal condition. They just finished putting on their skin tight black gloves when they heard someone unlocking their door. They quickly assumed the position they were told to.
Dean felt heavy booted steps behind him. Then someone roughly seized his wrists. The cold bite of a metal handcuff. Soon his hands were locked behind his back. Dean realized they were extra-security rigid cuffs. The ones they were using during their last mission.
He glanced at his brother. Sam was unsurprisingly receiving the same treatment. Dean noted that the cuffs were passed over his gloves though, so the bite of the cuffs must have been mitigated.
He didn’t have the opportunity to glance more as a blindfold was passed over his eyes. Dean felt it’s strapped being locked behind his skull. Then, a rough hand signaled him to stand up. He was then seized by the right arm and made to walk.
“Where are we…?” he tempted.
“You’ll see. Shut up or we’ll gag you”, the same rough voice answered.
Dean didn’t try his luck. The bondage, although light in comparison of what he had just endured, reminded him of the horrific last 2 days. All of his usual stubbornness had gone away.
They marched for 5 good minutes - Dean had no idea in which direction they were going, considering the vastness of the complex.
Finally, they were made to kneel. His blindfold was removed, as well as his brother’s.
Their father was there. Sitting on what seemed to be a throne. Dean had never seen that room - he did recall, though, that their father told them each Elder had some reserved quarters with a little court - some Brothers specifically attached to their service to help them in their management tasks.
“Dad!”, Sam exclaimed as he recognized him, “we…”
“SHUT UP!!”, John barked. “ All I want to hear from your mouth now is “Yes” and “Sir!”. You got that?
Sam lowered his head, looking at the floor, in a complete submissive posture. “Yes, Sir!”.
John gave Dean a black look, and the eldest Winchester's son urged to comply as well. “Yes, Sir”, he mumbled. In normal times, he would have hated being in such a humiliating posture, but right now, as every fighting spirit had abandoned him, he just didn’t care.
“You little pieces of shit!”John continued, spitting his anger. “Do you even realize how you’ve humiliated me? I announced to the Grand Master the two best hunters in a generation, and not only you didn’t listen to any command, you did despise all of your brothers, even attacked one, and most of all, you interfered without noticing anyone in a major prophecy, and endangered the whole Brotherhood by letting you be captured by two teenagers!”
He stood up, pointing at his sons. “Two teenagers versus my perfectly trained sons, and the high-school teens won! DO YOU REALIZE HOW FOOLISH I LOOKED AFTER THAT?!”
He paused dramatically. Sam and Dean mumbled “yes, sir…”, in unison.
“Honestly, I would have understood if the Grand Master would have sacrificed you for good. I was just hoping he wouldn’t extend his wrath to me!”. He then took a deep breath. “It seems that, in his mercy, he’s thinking you might still be of some use…”
Dean raised his head. Did he hear well?
John locked eyes with his son. “Yes, Dean!” he announced, “Welcome back to the world of the living. We have a mission for the two of you! But let it be clear”. He locked eyes with both of his sons again. “This will be your last chance. The slightest failure will get you wiped from the Brotherhood for good. So if you don’t want to sleep in a tank for years, you won’t take any initiative, you’ll follow orders to the letter, and report daily to your commanding officer. IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!”
“YES, SIR!” they replied, much more convincingly this time. Both felt obviously reviving; despite their father’s quarrel, it was clear that their sentence had been served and they were offering the opportunity for a fresh start.
“Good”. John signaled the two brothers that led them there to unlock their cuffs.
“Leave us”, John ordered them after they finished removing the cuffs, and while the brothers were rubbing their chafed wrists. He then tossed a piece of a newspaper to his sons. “This is your next mission”.
“Shooting in South Seattle…” Sam read. “How is this related to us?”
“Brother Duncan?” John said, turning his head.
Dean jumped in surprise as he realized they were another Brother in the room, standing against a wall, wearing a dark blue cloak, holding a tiny wooden box.
“We believed this death wasn’t due to a shooting but to a supernatural incident. More precisely, we think that the younger boy, Daniel Diaz, has developed a quirk”.
“Quirk?” Sam asked.
“That’s the way we decided to name a supernatural ability. There are more and more appearing around the world - so far it’s manageable, but the Grand Master has decided the Brotherhood should try to integrate as many quirk-users as possible. Regardless of their age”.
Dean shivered as Brother Duncan told them the story. He thought he had recognized this voice. As one of the Brothers who had put him in this total bondage and had sealed him away in this coffin. One had a blue cloak too, indicating he belonged to the mystic division… that could be it.
“So what’s the boy’s quirk?” Sam asked, oblivious to these thoughts.
“Telekinesis”.
“Bless you”, Dean added.
“It means the ability to move objects using the power of the mind”, Duncan continued, undisturbed by Dean’s sarcasm. “We believe that, like often, his quirk manifested for the first time in an emotionally overwhelming situation - like the death of his father - and he failed to control it, hence the heavy damages. Generally, they then start to try and control it within the next few weeks.”
John resumed the explanation. “As for now, the boys are on the run. They are by foot, crossing south through Washington state. They’re probably trying to reach the Mexican border, where they have relatives. What we want you to do is to intercept them and bring them back to the Temple”.
“Both of them?” Sam asked.
“Yes”, John replied. “Brother Topher discovered, partly thanks to your falling-out with Luke and his friend, that the chances of conversion are higher if the “subject” is not emotionally overwhelmed. Thus, having his brother with him should reassure him and ease the process. You understand? Do not harm any of them! You may use your capture gear but avoid all unnecessary violence. Sedate them and bind them if needed, but no more. Got it?”
“Yes sir!” they replied in unison again. “But this newspaper is already two weeks old… two questions: where do we find them now and how to deal with his quirk if he can knock us over with his mind?”
“For their location, our sleeping agents network is on it. Through hitchers and other good Samaritans, we are subtly steering them to a specific house in the woods. It belongs to a rich industrialist and it should be empty for the season, so you’ll go there, take possession of the place and just wait till they fall in your hands and ask you for shelter. As for your second question…”
“This should help you”, Duncan said as he opened his box. Inside was a large, small silver bracelet. “If you pass it on his wrist, it’ll lock itself and inhibit his quirk at least for a week. Enough for you to come back with him safely”.
“And how do we pass it on to him without alarming the boy or his brother?” Dean asked.
Duncan shrugged. “That’s your job!” he replied, closing the box.
“Be subtle, for once!” John said. “Gain their trust. They’ll come exhausted and hungry, and you’ll be the gentle lads giving them shelter and food. Shouldn’t be too hard, even for you!”.
“When do we leave?”
“They’re at least two days' road from here to the west coast, so you better leave right now. The Impala’s been refilled with fuel and gear. One last detail: you’ll report directly to me. Dave would have normally handled this, but he’s still busy in Riverdale helping Luke clean up your mess and covering our tracks. So you’ll report only to me. Daily. And before you make any decision to avoid any mishap. No autonomy here. Understood?”
“Yes, sir”, they answered. Sam took the box Duncan was holding to him.
“If I may ask, sir…” Sam attempted. “About the red paladin and the hellcaster… were they really…?”
John sighed. “I thought I told you they were not your concern anymore. But yes, Sam. It appears they were actually the two boys you targeted. There’s clearly some sort of magic in here for you to have found them so quickly… and that may explain why the Grand Master was so generous with you after all”.
Dean shuddered again. Being locked completely immobilized for two days in a coffin wasn’t exactly what he would have called “generous”.
“Enough time wasted now. Off you go!”, he finally commanded his sons “And go to the stockroom and get you some decent combat boots, like everyone else here!”
“Yes, Sir”, they finally shout before leaving the room.
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Hi guys,
Here is the first chapter of my new sub-story set in the Brotherhood universe.
Don't worry, The Brotherhood: Riverdale Tales shall continue concurrently, but both are unfolding in the same timeline.
So while Luke is infiltrating Riverdale, let's follow Sam and Dean in their last-ditch mission...
You'll find the link to all the other stories here:
The Brotherhood
The Brotherhood: Riverdale Tales
