Coercion

Coffeemaniac

Rated T for violence, language and suggestive situations. Possible trigger warning but probably nothing to worry about. No slash.

Reviews are welcome. Feed the writer.

A/N: I am not a fan of "Weak Sam". As you read this you might start to think that I am. Try to stick with it, there are reasons for Sam's behavior.

Season 3: Dean is scheduled for hell. Sam's powers haven't developed.

Setting: Ranch Head, Wyoming (near the center of the Devil's Gate built by Samuel Colt)

Part 1

Dean dropped his bag on the floor at the end of the motel bed. The peeling wallpaper might have been brown at one time, it might have been orange. He didn't know and didn't care. Glancing at his brother, he shook his head and sat down on the maroon bedspread. Sam set his bag on one of the double beds, dug out a small first aid kit then headed towards the bathroom.

An hour earlier they had rescued two teenagers from a vampire nest but during the fight, one of the bloodsuckers had sliced Sam's arm with a knife. The wound bled a lot at first but Sam tied it off and now he just needed to disinfect and bandage it. Dean would have helped but Sam preferred treating himself.

When Sam emerged a few minutes later, he wore his white undershirt. He carried his flannel over one arm and a clean bandage ran from his wrist to below his elbow. He looked pale and tired but Dean suspected he looked similar.

"Are you hungry?" Dean said.

"Uh, yeah," Sam said. "You want to try Millie's, that diner out by the street?"

"Homemade apple pie, fresh daily."

Sam flashed a quick smile. "Okay."

Sam pulled a new shirt out of his bag, slipped it on then followed that up with a jacket. Dean stood up, stretched his arms over his head then followed him outside. The Wyoming night had turned cold and he decided they should hunt in the south and southwest during the winter, save the freezing states for summer. He doubted that Bobby or Sam would agree to that.

Once inside the Impala, Dean started the engine and turned on the heat. Sam zipped up his jacket and rubbed his hands.

"We should stick to Arizona and Florida during the winter," Sam said.

"I was just thinking that," Dean said.

He drove to the diner located a few blocks down from the motel. It was small with booths and square tables, a breakfast bar, and red and white checked tablecloths. A heavyset blonde with a friendly smile greeted them at the door and told them to sit anyplace. Sam chose a booth and slid into the side that faced the entrance. Dean faced the exit.

A few people filled out the place; some families with kids, a couple tired looking businessmen sitting alone and one teenage couple who were holding hands across the table.

The blonde greeter, her nametag dubbed her 'Nancy', doubled as the waitress and she delivered ice water and menus. After she walked away, Sam said,

"We've been here before."

"This diner?"

"Yeah. Diner…town…remember when Jake Talley and Yellow Eyes opened the gate?"

Jake Talley murdered Sam. Dean sold his soul to get Sam's life back. Jake and Azazel were able to unlock a gate to Hell and release a boatload of demons.

"Rings a bell," Dean said.

"The gate is only a few miles from here. I think we came through this place after you killed Azazel."

Dean looked around trying to remember it. They spent more time in more diners than anyone should and, frankly, they tended to blend together. But, he spied a metal sign featuring Babe Ruth hanging crooked on one of the walls.

"Babe Ruth says chew Pinch-Hit Tobacco," Dean read. "I remember that sign."

Sam took a moment to glance at it then returned to skimming through the menu.

"Same motel, too?" Dean said.

"I don't think so. We followed Bobby and Ellen back to Bobby's place, drove straight through."

Nancy, the waitress, returned a moment later to take their order; bacon cheeseburger for Dean, and grilled chicken sandwich for Sam. They both added a beer and settled in to wait for their food.

"How's your arm?" Dean said, referring to Sam's injury.

"It's fine. Nothing to it."

"Now that we got rid of that nest, I'm thinking we take a drive down to Texas. We can find a case there as easy as anyplace, right? And it's warm."

"Bobby wants us in South Dakota. Says he wants help with a werewolf thing. We're supposed to meet up with him in a couple days."

Dean scowled. He loved Bobby, liked having a place to stay that had real food and iced beer, but he didn't like the damp and cold.

When the main entrance door squeaked open, Sam sat up and cocked his head so Dean turned around to see what caught his attention. Walking towards them with his slow, easy gait, Mayor Marco Rivera smiled as he approached. Tall and built like a rancher, he glided across the restaurant in his cowboy boots and jeans. He had black hair, trimmed short, and dark brown eyes. When he drew close enough, both Dean and Sam started to stand but he waved them back down and asked if he could sit.

"Of course," Sam said.

"Is there more trouble, Mayor?" Dean said.

Rivera shook his head. "No, no, you took care of that and the town is grateful, even if most of them don't know about it. I have to say, the sheriff, Duke Davis, was real impressed with you boys. Especially you, Dean. Nothing against your brother, of course."

Sam just nodded and shrugged.

Dean shot a teasing grin at him before he said, "The sheriff recognizes talent."

Rivera laughed then relaxed back in his seat when Nancy arrived with their dinners. She set them out then asked the mayor if he wanted anything. He didn't so she hustled away.

"Listen, I hate to track you down like this, especially while you're eating but, I wasn't sure I'd get another chance to see you before you left town," Rivera said.

"It's no problem," Sam said.

"Sure. Spit it out," Dean said.

"There's an old farmhouse, out off I-5 that I was hoping you might visit tomorrow morning. It's not too far, shouldn't take you out of the way, wherever you're going."

"What's at the farmhouse," Dean said.

"This is going to sound farfetched but I guess after you decapitate some vampires, there's nothing too out of the ordinary, is there?"

Sam shrugged as he glanced at Dean. Neither of them commented.

"Well," Rivera said. "They say it's been haunted for the last few years. My sister, Ava, and her husband, Eddie, live there."

"We met Eddie last night," Sam said.

"Right, so you know who I mean. Anyway, I'd take it as a personal favor if you could just swing by there, take a look around and let me know what you think."

Dean shared another look with his brother before he nodded. "Sure, Mayor, we can head out there first thing. Before we leave town."

"Thanks, boys. Ava is my only family so I try to take care of her as much as I can."

After writing down the address and some general directions, Mayor Rivera shook hands with each of them then strode out. Dean watched him go thinking that it was odd for him to come looking for them. The mayor had Dean's cell number so a phone call would have worked as well.

"I wonder how he knew we'd be here," Sam said.

"A little odd," Dean said.

"I don't know, small town, he's the mayor. Probably told the cops to keep an eye out or something."

"Yeah, that's not creepy at all."

Sam nodded. "It was odd."

They finished their dinner which was surprisingly good then headed back to the motel. Sam changed into pajamas, the loose cotton kind that he preferred. Dean kicked off his boots and dropped his top shirt on to the nearest chair then settled in with the television remote.

SUPERNATURAL SUPERNATURAL SUPERNATURAL

The next morning they grabbed some questionable breakfast burritos from a convenience store then drove out to the farmhouse to meet with the mayor. Dean thought the Impala sounded rough but Sam couldn't hear a difference.

"That's why I'm the mechanic and you're the nerd," Dean said.

Sam let that pass. He was used to being teased and he wasn't interested in verbal sparring with his brother. He preferred glancing at the scenery while he scrolled through some research sites on his phone. He continued looking for a way to break Dean's deal despite Dean's objections. He refused to allow his brother to go to hell; not if he could stop it.

With an aching arm and the burrito laying heavy on his stomach, he wished they were just driving out of town rather than looking for another job. He'd much rather be at Bobby's working on saving Dean's soul than taking on another issue in Ranch Head, Wyoming.

"What's going on in that oversized brain of yours?" Dean said.

"Nothing really. Just ready to…watch out…" Sam's warning came too late.

A blue pick-up truck sped across the line, slamming into the driver's side near the back end. Dean cursed as he hit the brakes, clinging to the wheel as they spun a full circle then a half before skidding to stop at the edge of a ditch. Both of them jerked at the impact then were tossed wildly while the car careened. Sam grunted when his head hit the window, pain flashed through his skull then radiated through his neck and back.

When the car stopped, Sam looked towards Dean finding the blurry image of his brother leaning against the steering wheel, his hands still clenched there. Warm blood trickled against Sam's neck while he pushed back the threat of blackness. He reached out to Dean, dropping a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" Sam said. His heart beat fiercely in his chest and his stomach felt tight.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said but when he pushed back, blood marred his forehead. "You?"

"Yeah, what the hell?"

Dean tried to push open his door but it was jammed. Sam reached for the handle on his side. A moment later, he heard footsteps pattering against the pavement. Looking around as he pushed out of the vehicle, he found several men rushing around them. Still muddled from hitting his head, he couldn't understand what they were doing until he heard Dean yell out. Everything seemed blurry and disconnected when he felt hands on his coat and he reacted instinctively. He threw a punch as he twisted to break the grip then something landed hard against his back. A thudding pain drove him to the ground then another blow to his side sent him tumbling forward. He rolled, needing space to regroup. Just as he managed to get on his knees, he heard the click as a gun cocked into position.

"Stop," Sheriff Duke Davis said. "We got you."

Sam swallowed the bile creeping up his throat. His head pounded a nauseating rhythm in his skull. Unable to get his eyes to focus he stopped moving.

Dean yelled something unintelligible and Sam tried to see him, to get his eyes to clear, but everything looked fuzzy and out of focus. The more he fought it, the worse it got.

Hands gripped his wrists, roughly yanking his arms behind him then he heard the clink of handcuffs before he felt cold metal against his skin. Weakly, he sat back on his legs and tried again to find Dean. He didn't need to. Dean tumbled next to him then righted himself.

"What is this?" Dean demanded. His voice sounded like an echo in Sam's ears.

"We're going for a ride and then we'll tell you everything," Davis said. "For now, you need to stay calm. You're outnumbered and your brother is hurt so it's best if you cooperate."

Dean chuckled but there was no humor. Sam knew Dean was already plotting their escape. His plan would be five steps ahead of whatever the Sheriff and his buddies expected. And whatever that plan was, Sam would jump in.

One of the Sheriff's men, a deputy from the Ranch Head police station took Sam's arm and dragged him off the ground. On shaking legs, he managed not to fall over though his bound arms made it more difficult. He kept his head down because trying to look up or around made him sick. He felt Dean's absence more than saw it when his brother was hustled into a different vehicle.

The deputy propelled Sam into the sheriff's car. No one spoke as they rode giving Sam time to think. The head injury interfered with his concentration. With pain pulsing behind his eyes and the dark clouds hovering at his peripheral, he worried he might pass out or vomit, neither of those events would be welcome.

After a few turns and a nauseating couple of miles on a dirt road, the deputy pulled the SUV into a driveway beside a farmhouse. Sam's arms ached so he was glad to be coaxed out of the vehicle so he could relieve the pressure. He slid on to the gravel drive then stumbled backward when his legs weakened. The deputy grabbed his arm to steady him.

"You all right?" The deputy said.

Sam didn't risk trying to glare but he didn't respond either.

"Sam?" Dean said. "How you doing?"

"Been better."

"You'll both be fine," Davis said. "But, we're going to split you up. Myers, Lancaster, take Sam to the house while Dean and I talk."

Sam's stomach clenched at the order. If he felt stronger; if he could see; he'd be able to put Deputy Myers down, probably take the other one too. Even handcuffed, both he and Dean were formidable. But, he doubted all the willpower in the world would carry him more than a few steps.

SUPERNATURAL SUPERNATURAL SUPERNATURAL

Dean itched to slam his boot into Davis' chest. He figured he could take the sheriff down then use a roundhouse kick to pummel the other man closest to him. Unfortunately, that's where his plan ended. With his wrists handcuffed behind him, he doubted he could take the two ass hats surrounding Sam and from the way Sam was tottering, his brother wouldn't be able to help.

Dean wanted to check him out, maybe get him to a hospital but he didn't make any demands. He needed to keep his worry about Sam under control until he could act. So he waited, watching the movements around him and getting a feel for the farmhouse while observing Davis and his cronies to try and figure out what was going on.

Dean watched while the two deputies gripped Sam's arms and turned him towards the house. Sam resisted. Both men tried pushing and pulling but Sam barely shifted. At first they used as little force as possible but they grew tired of that quickly. Deputy Lancaster shoved his hand into the back of Sam's shoulder blades and he stumbled a few feet.

"Hey," Dean said, jumping forward but Davis drew his sidearm.

"Let me talk to him," Dean said.

"You can tell him from here," Davis said.

Pushing back the surge of anger, Dean called out to his brother.

"Go with them, Sam. I'll sort this out and come get you."

Sam tossed a quick look over his shoulder but then he wobbled again and Dean's stomach tightened. As soon as the opportunity arose, he was going to kill everybody. When Myers and Lancaster prodded him this time, Sam went with them.

Once they disappeared to the opposite side of the house, Dean turned back towards Sheriff Davis and the other man.

"Now, what?" Dean said.

"I'm going to make this simple for you, Dean," the Sheriff said. "We're going to keep Sam for a while. Nothing bad'll happen to him. Well, nothing bad unless you stop doing what you're told."

"Don't threaten him. Gun or not, I'll take you right here."

"Settle down, son. No one wants to hurt anyone. But, you have to understand something…our little berg here is under attack. We need a hunter that's going to stay a while, not fix the first problem and leave the rest."

"Your lips are moving but I'm not hearing anything."

Davis scowled before taking a breath then he said, "A couple years ago, there was an electrical storm that…it spread across the state like nothing anyone's ever seen before. After that, Ranch Head started seeing some strange things, some unexplained deaths and it took some time before we realized we were under attack. We put together a coalition, started fighting where we could. Sometimes hunters came to help. They'd kill the werewolf or the wendigo or the aswang and then they'd go. Just abandon us to whatever monster comes next. The vampires you killed yesterday are just another horror in a long list of horrors."

Thinking about Samuel Colt's gate, Dean said, "Okay, so you want us to figure out what's going on, find out why this place is targeted. All you had to do was tell us. Sam and I…"

"No. Not you and Sam…just you. We watched you both and we want you…to stay here. You'll help us with the immediate threats while you figure out the bigger problem. As long as you do that, Sam stays nice and safe and cozy."

"You're dreaming if you think we're agreeing to that."

Davis shook his head. Taking off his brown, uniform hat, he rubbed his head then put the hat back on.

"You act like you have a choice. This isn't a choice. It's a reality that you need to get used to. Your brother stays with us while you hunt and that's it."

"You don't get it. My brother and I hunt together. I need him watching my back so separating us is just stupid. And the other thing you don't get is that the minute…the minute I find an inkling of a whisper of a tiny, little chance, I will end you and your little buddies and I will come back here and wipe out anyone standing between me and Sam. You do not want to start this, pal. I'm warning you now."

"You're wrong, Dean. Because if you fight us, don't obey, your brother gets hurt. And if we need to teach you a lesson, we'll use him to get the job done. And if someone doesn't make a call every day at the right time with the right word then it's over, he'll be dead before you ever find him."

"Find him?"

"He won't be here. That would just be careless. But, don't worry, he'll be someplace nice, someplace safe."

Fury tensing every muscle, Dean wanted to tell Davis that he and Sam had made a career of helping people, that it was the family business, that blackmail wasn't necessary. But, he could see the disdain on the sheriff's face. He could feel the finality. Nothing he said would change anyone's mind so he'd have to play along and plot on his own. His ace remained in Sam because his brother would heal and then his captors would find they have a tiger in their living room.