Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed and to those of you who added this story to favorites/alerts lists. Much Supernatural love to all! And especially, once again, to amyblair.
Chapter Two
The fact that the voice sounded human was bad enough.
The fact that the smell of sulfur was wafting through the cave was even worse.
Dean swore. They hadn't been counting on demons. Not this time.
Someone snapped their fingers, and a light came on overhead, one of the old mining lanterns. Dean blinked, eyes stunned momentarily by the brightness, then he grimaced at the sight before him. A tall, thin middle aged man was facing him and Sammy. A man with eyes that were black and shiny like tar.
"Holy water, Sam?" Dean whispered quickly to his brother.
Sam nodded every so slightly. "In my pack."
Dean edged a bit closer to his brother.
The demon-man held up a hand. "I don't think so, Dean. Move away from your brother."
Frustration and anger welled up in Dean, emerging in the form of a muttered curse. Glaring at his enemy, he took one slight step away from Sam.
The demon smiled. "That's it. Thank-you, Dean."
"What do you want from us?" Dean retorted harshly, biting out the words. His side was burning and aching, and it hurt worse with each breath. Talking hurt, too.
"You seem to be in pain, Dean Winchester," said the man, taking a step forward. "I can help you with that." He grinned suddenly, coldly.
"You're not touching him!" Sam shouted, flinging out an arm in front of Dean.
"Easy, Sam," Dean murmured, trying to pull Sam's arm down.
Sam wasn't budging.
"Who said I had to touch him?" asked the demon, cocking his head to one side, the cruel smile plastered to his face. He slowly started to raise his arm.
Dean blinked, swallowed. This is it. We're finished…
Then, abruptly, the demon smiled and lowered his arm. "On second thought, I think I'll reconsider relieving you of your suffering, Dean. After all, prisoners can be more valuable than corpses."
Dean felt confidence seep back into his aching bones. "More dangerous, too," he muttered to Sam.
A brief smile crossed Sam's features before the younger Winchester brother called to the demon, "How do you know us?"
"Sam, I would have thought your father would have taught you how powerful we are," said the demon, walking closer and smiling arrogantly. "Some of us can read minds." He stopped walking and clasped his hands in front of him, peering at the Winchesters shrewdly. "But you know that, don't you? What are you doing, Sammy? Stalling for time?"
Sam opened his mouth as if in answer, then frowned and quickly shut it.
"So you know who we are. How 'bout telling us who you are?" Dean demanded, ignoring Sam's sharp glance.
"You can call me Lysander," the demon said with a cordial nod. His eyes narrowed on Dean. "I have some friends who are looking for you."
An unpleasant chill ran up Dean's spine.
"And no, I'm not a mind reader," said Lysander casually, looking at his fingernails. He looked back at the Winchesters and grinned broadly, revealing a set of brilliantly white and even teeth. "I've just heard all about you from my friends." He tilted his head to one side. "And that's why I'm keeping you alive."
Dean didn't like the sound of that. He also didn't like the sound of the word "friends" coming out of a demon's mouth…
"Though it seems, Dean, that you're going to make things a bit hard for me," Lysander continued, taking a few steps closer to the Winchesters. "Always getting into trouble, aren't you? Well, I hope you survive until my friends arrive."
"Dean is going to be fine," Sam bit out at the demon, moving protectively closer to Dean.
Dean tossed Sam a look of pleasant surprise… which quickly turned to a wince and a frown as Dean reflected on how relative the word "fine" was when used by a Winchester… He'd used it in plenty of lies himself--in untruths both intentional and unintentional.
"Why don't both of you boys come with me?" Lysander suggested amiably, motioning behind him. "I know of a nice little room here in the cave where the two of you can wait."
"Wait for what? Our imminent doom?" Dean snapped, holding his right hand tightly against his side. "No thank-you. We don't trust your kind."
For a moment, Lysander seemed ruffled, his eyes narrowing on the elder Winchester. This gave Dean a burst of satisfaction. But the satisfaction didn't last for very long. The smug smile returned to the demon man's face. "We don't trust yours either, hunter. Which is why I want you to go where I tell you to go."
"And if we don't?" Dean demanded.
Lysander sighed heavily, theatrically. "I really don't want to have to waste you."
"Aren't you a sweetheart of a thug?" Dean replied. He planned to add a few more choice words, but his oxygen supply was suddenly cut short by a hacking cough… which also happened to be very painful. He quickly turned from Sam and buried his face in the crook of his arm as his body convulsed with the cough. He didn't want Sam to see or hear anything that might cause the younger Winchester to worry too much. Don't look at me with those concerned eyes, Sammy. Just don't…
Dean glanced over his shoulder at Sam. Sam was indeed wearing the concerned eyes.
"What?" Dean choked out roughly.
Sam just shook his head, but the concerned eyes remained.
"So?" Dean sniffed, cleared his throat, managed not to groan when pain pinched violently at his side. "We gonna follow this bastard or what?"
Sam looked at Dean, looked at him long and hard in the yellowish light of the mining lantern overhead. Dean's face was pale, his eyes over-bright. And he kept pressing his hand to his right side. He was hurt, and Sam knew it.
Dean tossed Sam an annoyed frown, and Sam quickly looked away. "Uh, Dean, I don't know that we have any other option," he told his older brother ruefully.
"Crap," Dean muttered gruffly. "I was afraid of that."
"So, boys? Made up your minds yet?" Lysander called, his smooth, smarmy voice echoing through the cave and bouncing around inside Sam's head. As if Sam needed anything else bouncing around in there.
"We're coming with you," Dean replied. "Just hang on a second." He looked back to Sam. "We've gotta think of something. And fast."
"I know. I know," Sam muttered, frowning. He glanced sharply at Dean. "For one thing, we've got to do something about your injuries. What happened to you anyway?"
"Save it. I'm fine." Dean patted Sam's shoulder and started walking toward Lysander. "We'll patch up the ol' bones later, Sammy. Right now we need to be thinking about how to get out of this."
Sam took a deep, tight breath, then started after Dean. He made sure to walk a little behind his brother, just in case Dean's knees decided to buckle anytime soon. Sam wanted fair warning of that. Sometimes his brother's stubbornness was almost too much to bear--especially when that stubbornness put Dean in danger. Sam had a feeling that one day, said hard-headedness would get Dean into a load of trouble, as if it hadn't already…
"Right this way, gentlemen." Lysander started walking, actually having the nerve to turn his back on the Winchesters.
Sam and Dean exchanged glances, then looked to Sam's pack in unison.
"He knows we have weapons in my pack, Dean," Sam whispered.
"I know," Dean muttered with a frustrated frown. "But maybe we can--"
"Here we are," Lysander said, suddenly halting his stride.
Sam blinked, surprised that the walk had been so short.
Lysander stepped aside to reveal a narrow opening in the cave wall. "Step inside, if you please."
"If you please," Dean mocked, with a disgusted look on his face. He peered around the demon, then turned to look at Sam with wide eyes. "It's really tight in there."
"Hunters can't be choosers, Dean," said Lysander casually.
Dean raised an eyebrow, but surprisingly made no comeback. Sam took that as an ominous sign of his brother's condition.
The demon's eyes suddenly locked on Sam. Sam swallowed hard, fingers curling tightly around the straps of his pack. "Sam, hand over the bag," Lysander ordered.
Crap. "There are medical supplies in here," Sam said, trying to stay calm. "If you want me to keep Dean alive--"
"Do you think I'm stupid?" the demon snarled, taking a threatening step toward Sam.
"Easy, man… uh, monster." Dean stepped between Lysander and Sam, raising his hands. "Sam's gonna hand over the bag--except for the medical supplies. Isn't that right, Sammy?" Dean turned and caught Sam's eye. There was something in his expression that reassured Sam… probably the cockiness that was disproportionate to the situation.
"Okay. Okay. Here." Sam slid the pack off of his shoulders and started to reach inside it for the medical kit.
"I'll do that," Lysander snapped, suddenly raising his arm.
Sam went flying backward into the cave wall, a rough outcropping jamming into his back right between his shoulder blades. He tried to bite back a cry of pain and shock, but a muffled groan managed to escape his lips… which did exactly what he was trying to avoid.
It infuriated Dean.
Dean swore and took a menacing step toward the demon, fists balled. "Let him go, you ugly--"
Lysander grinned and lifted a hand toward Dean. Dean went sliding sideways, slamming into the cave wall on his right side, his pistol clattering loudly to the cave floor. It scared Sam--badly--when Dean gave a sharp cry of pain. Dean wasn't one to complain.
Keeping the Winchesters pinned to opposite walls, Lysander walked to where Sam's pack sat, then started rummaging through it. Gingerly, the demon removed a flask of holy water, tossing it across the cave. He also proceeded to relieve the pack of knives, guns, books of incantations, and various other objects that were potentially dangerous to creatures of darkness.
Finally, Lysander stood, grasping the bag by its straps. "Here." He tossed it at Sam's feet, released the brothers from the walls, then nodded toward Dean. "Keep him alive, Sam."
Sam quickly snatched up the pack and looked to Dean. "Dean?"
Dean was leaning heavily against the wall, both hands clutching his right side, jaw clenched. "You okay, Sammy?" he managed, his voice breathless and tight with pain.
Of course Dean would ask that. Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I'm fine, Dean."
"Get in there now," Lysander ordered, pointing jerkily to the opening in the cave wall. All pretense of politeness was gone, leaving behind one very sadistic and highly ticked off demon.
Sam decided to follow orders before anyone (Dean) got hurt again. "Alright. Alright." He made his way swiftly to Dean's side, wincing a bit. His back was probably sporting a nasty bruise by now. "Dean, can you walk?"
"Yes, I can walk," Dean replied sharply, not meeting Sam's eyes. He led the way into the tiny cave room, shooting a fierce glare at Lysander as he went.
Sam followed his brother into the room, not even looking at the demon, for fear of what that might ignite inside him… such as maybe primal rage.
… and Dean was right. This room was minuscule. One of Sam's shoulders brushed against Dean's. The other scraped against the rock wall.
"Stay right here, boys," Lysander ordered with a smirk.
"Well you'd better stay out there," Dean growled in response. "Might be safer for you, you black-eyed bastard."
Lysander laughed coldly. "Oh really? Well to be frank, I'm not intimidated, Dean Winchester--nor am I impressed. I'm a bit disappointed in the two of you. My friends must be prone to exaggeration." Before either brother could reply, the demon snapped his fingers.
A loud scraping sound echoed through the caves, bouncing off the walls of the tiny room--and twisting Sam's stomach into knots.
"Oh no," Sam muttered wearily.
His fears were confirmed as a huge panel of rock slid into place, covering the only opening in the little stone room.
They were trapped.