Straightjacket Feeling ch. 7

Abbi woke early on the morning of her fourth day there. She opened her eyes but it was a struggle. Her vision blurred easily now. Abbi’s naturally pale skin was now ghostly white. Save breathing and the movement of her eyes, she looked as though she were dead. She was weaker, weaker with every day. She searched the room hoping to find some sort of hope that Dean was there. She’d be happy even if it was just Sam, just as long as it was someone that could get her out of there.

Her eyes stopped on the figure of a man standing by the window. The morning sun lit up his face and he seemed to be almost angelic. Abbi knew differently though. She knew what lurked in the shadows of his heart. Doyle turned to her and smiled. His smile was always a captivating one, made even more appealing by his ‘innocent’ ice blue eyes. He walked slowly over to her bed and sat down beside her, taking her hand and holding it gently. “How are you feeling,” he asked softly. Abbi didn’t answer. She simply stared at him with rage and hatred in her eyes. He smiled at her and tucked her hair behind her ear. “There, there,” he said simply. “It will all be over soon Abbi. I promise.”

Abbi’s stoic face was slowly replaced with a smile. “You don’t know Dean Winchester, Doyle. You don’t know him like I do,” she said simply. “You’ll regret pissing him off.”

“I don’t know Dean Winchester,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t know Dean Winchester? Just like I don’t know John Winchester, or Sam Winchester right,” he asked with a malicious smile. “Or I don’t know Mary Winchester.” He laughed a little. “Abbi, you still don’t understand do you,” he said with a smile. “I made Dean Winchester. Do you think he would be the way he is, so angry, so cold, if his father hadn’t raised him that way? Do you think his father would have raised him like that if Mary hadn’t died the way she did? No, no Abbi, it is not me that doesn’t know Dean Winchester, it’s you.”

She knew, part of her always knew, he had a connection to what killed Mary and now Sam’s girlfriend. Part of her always knew but she thought it was the same kind of connection Sam and Dean had. She always thought that maybe someone close to him was killed the same way. It had never occurred to her that Doyle might have had something to do with Mary’s death, Jess’, the death in Ireland. She never thought about it until that moment.

Doyle smiled and stood slowly. “I’ll regret making him angry? Is that a threat Abbi?” He laughed and leaned against the wall across the room, facing her. “You don’t think that I could easily kill Dean in a heartbeat? It’s really very simple. But I don’t want to kill Dean,” he said with a smile. “No, no, and I won’t kill Dean, just like I won’t kill you. Little Sammy’s going to do all that for me. You know how I don’t like to get my hands dirty.”

“Sam may have issues with Dean but he would never kill Dean, and certainly not me,” she snapped. She scolded herself mentally for how cliché that was.

“Sam loves his brother that is true. Sometimes though, there’s only so much someone can take. Sam loved his father, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. His father’s orders, Dean’s orders, the disappointment. He couldn’t handle it anymore so he killed them,” he said with a smile. He sounded as though he were in the witness stand of a courtroom. “Sam loved Abbi. She had always taken care of him. He loved her, maybe even more than Jessica. He couldn’t stand to see her die so slowly, so painfully. He had to put her out of her misery,” he said. His voice held pain, but his face was full of smiles.

“You think you can make Sam think that? You think you can convince him to kill his brother,” she asked with a bit of a cocky laugh. “You don’t know as much as you think.”

“I don’t think I can make Sam think that. I don’t need to, its already started. They’re from two completely different worlds Abbi. Sam is the bright young scholar with a great life ahead of him. Dean, what does Dean have to his name? He doesn’t even have a name, not one that can be used anyway. The Winchester name has been tarnished since Dean was a child. It was tarnished because of you Abbi,” he said simply. “All of this is because of you. If you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t come to them that night. Everything would be different. You’ve made my job very hard Abigail,” he said sounding a little disappointed.

“You’re job,” she asked. Her voice shivered as if she were actually afraid. “What job.”

“Yes, Abigail, my job,” he said with a laugh. He walked over to her and stopped at the side of her bed looking down at her. The eyes she had once found so much comfort in were cold and empty. He sighed and slowly sat down on the bed next to her. He tucked her hair behind her head and leaned down. “Abbi you’ll never get better if you keep yelling at me,” he whispered softly. “You need to rest.”



“Dean, you need rest,” Sam insisted once more. It had been a week since Abigail had disappeared. “Dean you’ve hardly had any sleep.” He sighed and sat at the table of the hotel room.

“Sam I have no idea where she is,” he shouted. “Sorry if I’m having a little trouble sleeping. I just keep… I keep-”

“Thinking it was your fault?” Sam looked over at him and shook his head. “You little hypocrite. Its all right for you to lose sleep and blame yourself for killing someone who’s not dead,” Sam shouted standing to his feet. But me, when I could have done something for Jess. I could have told her. She actually died, I saw it, the fire, her face. I can’t lose sleep? I can’t blame myself?”

“Sam,” Dean said with a sigh. He wasn’t in the mood to fight with his brother. “You know that’s not what I-”

“No Dean,” Sam shouted. “All this time you’ve told me not to blame myself. That there was nothing I could have done to help Jess. But that’s not true. I saw it. I saw what happened to her, for weeks before it happened and I didn’t say a word. Now she’s dead and I can’t change that. But Abbi’s not dead Dean! There’s still something you can do but you won’t be able to help her if you’re not strong enough. You need to get rest!”

“Don’t tell me what I need Sam,” Dean shouted. He was cut short though when his cell phone rang. Both Sam and Dean turned to look at it. “Hello,” Dean said when he picked up the phone.

“Dean?” Dean heard a familiar voice on the other end.

“A…. Abbi,” he said with a broken voice. He couldn’t believe he was hearing her voice. “Abbi, where are you,” he said quickly, not knowing how long it would last. “We’ll come for you I swear.”

Upon hearing her name Sam stood straight and walked over to his brother. He watched him worry in his eyes. Sam knew the lies this Doyle guy was capable of. He used Jess’ voice to speak to him.

“Dean,” Abbi whispered on the other end. She was crying, she never cried.

“Abbi you need to think, where are you?

“I… I’m in a room, it… it looks like someone’s…. someone’s bedroom. Its… its dark,” she said softly. She looked around and tried to look out the window, but she could hardly get up. “I… I can… I can see the moon,” she said softly, telling him where the room was in this house. “Its… its old,” she whispered.

“Abbi, are you all right,” he asked worriedly. “Are you safe.”

“I… I can’t move, I’m… I’m tied down. Dean,” she whispered. “I… I’m getting worse. Wh… why now?”

“I don’t know Abbi. I’ll find you,” he whispered. “I promise. Where are you? Do you have any other ideas?”

“I… I don’t think I’m too far from the hospital,” she said softly. “Umm… I can… I can see it through the window. I… I don’t think anyone lives here Dean.” Abbi looked up and saw Doyle walk into the room. He smiled and walked up to him.

“Abbi give me that. Dean,” he said with a smile. However, the voice Dean heard was the voice of his father. “Dean, what are you doing? I trusted you with a job why aren’t you doing it? Abbi’s fine, trust me. She’ll die peacefully,” he said with a laugh. “Well, that’s probably not true. Her body’s slowly deteriorating Dean. She really won’t die peacefully. It will be slow and painful.” He sighed and looked down at Abbi who was crying. “Dean,” he said with his own voice now. “There’s nothing you can do now Dean.” He laughed. “You’re a brave little kid,” he said with a smile. Memories flooded into Dean’s head, memories of the night of the fire. “That’s gotta be pretty scary. But you’re a big kid aren’t you? That your brother over there? I’m sure you’re a great big brother.”

“You’re done now,” Dean said through gritted teeth.

“Did you like the hat Dean?” He laughed. “I’m sure by now you’ve got you’re little brother tracing this call, but honestly Dean, she’s too weak to move. How could she have gotten a phone unless I left it there for her.” He laughed again. The Winchester boys were brilliant in their own right but Doyle couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s stupidity. “Dean you’re not thinking straight,” he said this time it was the voice of his baby brother speaking to him. “You need rest Dean,” and with that he hung up the phone.

Sam stood a few feet from him, staring at him. “Was it really Abbi,” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dean answered distantly. “That bastard’s gonna die,” he said coldly, turning to his brother. Sam had never seen such a look of pure hatred before in anyone let alone his brother.