Happy Birthday SidJack! and The Tribble Master! and IheartSam7!!!!!

Word: Hold.

Word Count: 100.

Disclaimer: I'm coming up with a plan as we speak. I am very devious, but I wouldn't bank on me ever owning them.

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Four to the left, 3 right, agents outside covering the Impala, and Sam. Bleeding out in the middle.

"Hold your fire!" Hands up, he stepped out, let himself be disarmed, didn't fight the cuffs, the wrenching of his shoulder, the knee to his gut.

"Help Sam," dragged his feet until the medic started triage. Until the blood slowed from the wound.

Notoriety got him solitary. Didn't get him sleep though, not until the night guard told him Sam made it. Then he started working on his escape plan. Losing Sam, not an option, not something he could ever escape from.