Dean came to tied to a chair in his own motel room.
Two men standing in front of him. One of them was smiling in the specific way that immediately told Dean this guy had too much God in him and not enough sense.
Dean tested the ropes. Solid. Whoever tied these knew what they were doing.
"Who the hell are you guys?" Dean asked.
Kubrick stepped forward and slapped him clean across the face.
Dean's head snapped to the side. He held it there for a second, jaw tight, then slowly turned back. His expression had gone very flat and very still in the way it did right before things got bad for someone.
"We are God's servants," Kubrick said. "Doing God's work. Shut your mouth, sinner, walking around with a demon spawn like it's nothing—"
"Did you two escape from a mental hospital?" Dean asked. "God's work. Demon spawn." He looked between them. "Are you guys even listening to yourselves?"
"Don't think you and your brother are the only intelligent ones," Kubrick said, leaning in. "We're hunters too. Gordon sent us."
Dean's expression shifted. Just slightly. Just enough.
Kubrick caught it and smiled. "Yeah. Now tell me where your brother is. The demon spawn."
Dean looked at him for a long moment.
"Demon spawn," Dean repeated. "You practiced that in the mirror, didn't you?"
"No point hiding it," Creedy said, stepping forward. "We all know the truth. So save us the time and tell us where your brother is. You tell us, we let you walk."
Dean stared at him.
"Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead and say no," Dean said. "You two really think tying me to a chair is gonna make me give up my brother? Gonna need a lot more than that, pal."
Kubrick and Creedy exchanged a look.
Creedy reached down and pulled a bag off the floor, setting it on the table in front of Dean and unzipping it slowly. He laid the tools out one by one, taking his time with it.
"These," Creedy said, straightening up, "have made very big, very tough men talk." He let that sit for a second. "And I mean the tough ones."
Dean looked at the tools. Looked at Creedy. Looked at Kubrick.
"Wait—those are rusty, are you sure I won't get tetanus if you use those?" Dean asked, still working at the ropes behind his back.
"Don't worry, you won't get HIV," Kubrick said.
"That's not what I asked. Will I get something else?" Dean looked genuinely concerned. "Because I have enough problems right now."
The door opened.
Henry and Sam walked in and stopped.
Henry took in the full scene. Dean tied to a chair. Two men with a bag of torture tools laid out on the table. Everyone staring at each other.
"So," Henry said, leaning against the doorframe with a smile. "Is there an S&M session going on or—"
"NO—get me out of here," Dean said.
Kubrick and Creedy spun and grabbed for their guns, swinging them toward Dean to use him as leverage—
Henry was already in front of them.
There. One instant he wasn't, the next he was, a gun in each hand pulled clean from their grips, both barrels pointed directly at their foreheads.
"No chance," Henry said.
Dean grinned. "Yeah bitches. Say God's work now."
Sam walked toward Dean to untie him, hit a wet patch on the floor, and his feet went out from under him. He went down fast, head dropping straight into Dean's crotch with full momentum behind it.
The sound Dean made was not a word.
Henry looked over. "Dean, you okay?"
Dean's face cycled through six colors in two seconds.
"Sammy," he said, very quietly. "I will end you."
Sam stood up, and his face wasn't doing much better than Dean's.
"Yeah," Sam muttered. "I also want to end my life right now."
He moved behind Dean and worked at the ropes. Dean sat very still, breathing carefully, like any sudden movement was a bad idea.
Once free, Dean stood slowly and walked around the room in a small circle, trying to do something, clearly unable to do it, face tight.
"Ahh... ah..."
"Sam," Creedy said, eyes shifting over. "Don't you find it disgusting? Living as the bitch of a demon?"
Sam went still.
"Me?" he said quietly.
"Gordon told us everything about what you are," Kubrick said, leaning forward. "If you still call yourself human, do everyone a favor and just kill yourself."
Sam looked at them for a moment. Then it clicked. Gordon's people. Gordon was still out there telling anyone who'd listen that Sam was the Antichrist.
Henry didn't let it go any further.
He dropped both guns, stepped forward, and slapped both of them simultaneously across the face hard enough that their feet left the ground before they hit the walls on opposite sides of the room.
The room went quiet.
Henry straightened up. "Since you're Gordon's friends," he said calmly, "I'll make sure you join him in jail. Don't worry." A pause. "Ten years isn't that long."
He looked at Sam and Dean.
"That way Gordon stays put and stops sending people."
He really didn't want Gordon getting out early, and these two were exactly the type to help make that happen if left loose. Might as well put them where they couldn't cause any more trouble.
"So, did you guys get the rabbit's foot?" Dean asked, turning to Henry and Sam.
"Yeah," Henry said. "We didn't take Jinx with us this time, so it went smoothly."
*****
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