Author's Note: This is an angry piece. There's lots of swearing that I don't know that I think Sam would necessarily use. But I WAS SO DAMN MAD AT THAT WOMAN IN THE PREMIER. Oh, which reminds me: spoilers for Season 12 premier, so...there's that. But seriously. I just want to reach through the screen and throttle that damn woman, or Sammy to get his awesome demon powers back for like 20 seconds so he could do some proper damage.

Also - because this was written in a fit of "SAMMY! MY PRECIOUS!" there's likely a couple of errors - spelling (because I type reeeally fast and have a dodgy keyboard) but also I don't remember if his hands were tied, zip tied, or chained, or what the exact lines were. Possibly continuity errors but really, I just wanted there to be a moment where the Men of Letters realized: the Winchesters are serial killers. They are the monsters that MONSTERS warn their children about. Sam may be the "nice" one, but that doesn't make him "harmless."

Whew. Anyway. Therapy. Rage therapy.

"Hold up," Sam said, blowing a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. "You're trying to equate having England…which is what…like fifty thousand square miles? An island with carefully controlled borders, with one of the most comprehensive CCTV networks in the world, with the United States. We have…" he paused, trying to remember the late night trivia shows he would watch when he couldn't sleep at Stanford. "Close to four million square miles. That's eighty times the size of your country."

Lady Toni's pen clicked quietly against her clipboard, one delicate eyebrow raised. "Is there a point to this Sam, or are you just trying to prove your just as good with numbers as you are with letters?"

Sam clenched his hands into fists tight enough he heard his knuckles crack. "My point is we have a lot more fucking ground to cover, with less intel, and it's pretty much the two of us when shit went really south. Yeah, we fucked up. We fucked up big sometimes. But you wanna know what? We cleaned up our own messes, with no help from you. We had hunters. Good hunters. Good people. And not a whole lot of them are left standing. You keep saying your good at your jobs?" Sam scoffed, one corner of his lip curling up in a snarl. "You're goddamn cowards is what you are. You even stood by and did nothing when the American branch of Men of Letters was slaughtered by Abaddon. You're welcome, by the way – 'cause we're the ones who killed her."

Toni remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

"Oh, what? Nothing to add? No commentary?" Sam asked snidely. "Should I continue? What was that list you prattled off earlier? You know, before you shot me. In my home. After I just lost my brother who was off saving the fucking world again – because your story stays the same. Too little, too fucking late. Archangels? Yeah. We kicked Lucifer's ass. We killed one. The other one died helping us. And the last one? Yeah. He's trapped, too. Next. Leviathans. Where the hell were you people then, huh? They were killing and eating people by the hundreds. And you just what, sat around with your collective thumbs up your asses? The human race becoming the primary food source of a primordial monster from Purgatory wasn't enough of an excuse to pitch in and I don't know…help?"

"You were-" Lady Toni began, but Sam growled between his teeth.

"Don't interrupt," he snapped, seething with hardly contained rage. "Most recently? The Darkness. The first evil of the world – so big, and so bad that God and all of his Archangels had to work together to put her into her box the first time. This time?" Sam couldn't help the twisted grin because this was his grieving process. He was alone now. The last of the Winchester line.

And hell if he was going to go gentle into that good night.

Rage bubbled forth as all he could think of was the number of times he and his family, his friends fought and died for this world. It was one thing to be alone against it all, but to find out there were others? More people that could've helped level the playing field but decided that was too beneath them to get involved?

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

"Not even God could do it this time. But you want to know who did? My brother," Sam snarled. He rocked the chair back momentarily before slamming the front legs down once more onto the concrete. "And you think we should partner with you?"

This time, he didn't bother trying to squelch the manic laughter that bubbled forth. "I've been trapped in the Cage with Lucifer and Michael themselves. I've died so many times I've lost count. I've killed a woman I loved at her request because she couldn't live as a monster. I've been shot. Stabbed. Burned. Beaten and broken. And you think you have what it takes to break me?"

Lady Toni sighed, as if he was a school boy who'd given what perhaps was an accurate answer, was not the one she wanted to hear. She carefully capped her pen, and put it to the side, standing and smoothing her jacket.

"I think those are big words from a man who is alone in this world," Lady Toni said. "I think those are brave words in the face of fear. The point here, Sam, is that I don't want to hurt you. I don't see why this has to be unpleasant, for either of us. You want to rid the world of evil? So do we. We're on the same team, we just have…different methods."

Sam twisted his hands again in the bindings. "Listen lady. I'm going to paint a picture that maybe you can understand. The difference between us? You and me, right here, right now?" He nodded his chin over at the woman near the sink. "I'll even include her in the mix. You're talking about us like we don't know what we're doing. You've watched us, apparently for years. But you want to know what knowledge I have of Men of Letters? Cuthbert Sinclair, who was extreme enough even the other members didn't want him. Josie Sands. Host of Abaddon – who then proceeded to wipe out the rest of them. One might think I have a bit of sympathy for her, but really – I know what it's like to be possessed. Except my copilot was Lucifer – King of Hell. And I still managed to find the willpower to beat him down long enough to throw us both in the Cage." He curled his lip in disgust. "And now there's you. You think we're out of control? We're the ones who are dangerous? Who has who tied to a chair, threatening to torture them over networking?"

Lady Toni listened to his speech before she nodded to her cohort, who turned the knob on the faucet.

Ice cold water from the shower showerhead above him cascaded down, and Sam reflexively closed his eyes. He was expecting car batteries and electrodes. Cattle prods. Something. But the water continued to rain down on him. It didn't burn with acid. It didn't ignite his skin or sting his eyes like Holy Oil.

It was just cold water.

"Seriously?" Sam said, spitting water out as he tossed the errant strands of now soaked hair plastered against his skin out of his face. "A cold shower? Did I not just explain the threshold you're going to have to cross to break me?"

"Everyone is brave in the beginning, Sam," Lady Toni said confidently. "And if you'd really been through the type of torture you claim to have, you would know that the first rule is to start small, and build."

"That's the first rule of great drama, you ass," Sam growled. "And the end result of this had better be that you kill me."

"So eager to die?" the woman near the sink asked, a slow smirk quirking one corner of her mouth up.

Sam chuckled, turning his face momentarily up towards the shower. "No. But if you think you're going to break me, and you won't, and you let me live? I'm not going to return the favor."

"I know you, Sam. Your brother was the psychopath. Not you," Lady Toni pointed out.

Sam smiled bitterly. "You've already answered this. I am alone, with nothing. And someone who has lost everything has nothing left to lose."

"You still have your life. Your angel friend," Lady Toni said.

"What? Cass can't come visit me if I'm dead? Do you even know how this works?" Sam laughed. "How are you still alive? Are you sure the reason why you don't have monsters here is because you're just not worth the concern? It's not like you're ever going to leave the island and do something proactive like pursue them."

He could feel the heat leaching from his body. He could barely feel his feet anymore and the shivering was beginning to make his gunshot wound throb with the extra movement.

Pain would pass. Scars would heal. He had lived through worse.

"I'm going to tell you the same thing we tell the angels, the demons and the monsters." Sam leaned forwards, just enough that his face was out of the immediate downpour. He wanted to make sure Lady Toni was listening. "None of you get it. We're the ones you should be afraid of."

So. There you have it. Like I said - lots of swearing. But essentially a rage piece of "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. WINCHESTER IS THE MOST FEARED NAME IN HUNTERS. TOE TO TOE WITH THE HORSEMEN. LUCIFER. LEVIATHANS. ARCHANGELS AND DEMONS AND MONSTERS AND CANNIBALS AND ARRRRRRRRRGH. WHY WOULD YOU PICK ON SERIAL KILLERS?!"

But I do love them. And I want some damage done in episode 2. Let me know what you think!