Collateral Damages - Chapter 6

"This is a bad idea." Dean grumbled somewhat under his breath as he guided the Impala down the dark suburban street. After Jeremy Sinclair's 'visit' to their motel room, they decided to step it up and confront the demon as soon as possible. Of course, this left them with the problem of what to do with Hendricksen while they were hunting the damn thing.

Dean glanced into the rearview mirror, scowling at the FBI agent, "Tell me again why

We had to bring him along."

He didn't really need to hear the reasons again. And it's not that he really disagreed with having to deal with their ride-a-long. Since the demon now knew where they were hold up, they couldn't exactly leave the agent there, especially incapacitated and cuffed to the bed. As much as Dean would like to see the man get a nice, close dose of their kind of reality, he knew Sam was right and they couldn't leave him unprotected. And since they couldn't let him go, at least not until well after they had taken care of the demon and skipped town, they had no choice but to haul him along and hope he didn't do anything stupid to screw things up.

"Because," Sam sighed as he repeated the words for what had to be the tenth time. "We can't leave him alone, we can't let him go and he's never going to believe any of this until he sees it with his own two eyes."

"You two really have no idea how delusional you really are, do you?"

Dean breathed hard through his nose, his hands tightening to a death grip around the steering wheel. "He's not gonna be able to see anything if he's unconscious. Which I swear to God is what he's gonna be if he says one more word!"

"Dean, relax."

"Yeah, Dean." Hendricksen's tone was taunting. "Listen to your brother –"

"Shut up!" Sam turned and glared at the man, his voice booming in the small confines of the car. He waited for Hendricksen to sit back into the seat before taking a deep breath and returning his attention to his too tense brother. "This is the only way to make him see for himself, Dean. It's the only way we're gonna convince him that you're not what he thinks you are and get him off your ass."

Dean sighed, knowing full well his brother was right. He glared at Hendricksen again, before shaking his head, resigned to having the agent along for the ride. "I still say it's a bad idea."

"So you've mentioned," Sam mumbled. "Over and over."

He scrubbed a hand across his face and turned back toward the front windshield as Dean pulled the big Chevy into a space across from the school. Since Jeremy Sinclair didn't seem to have any other address, and they'd never seen him anyplace else other than earlier at their motel, they figured the school must be his base of operations. The principal had mentioned seeing the kid there at all hours, so it was the best guess they had at the moment.

"So," Sam tried for a calm tone of voice. "Do we have a plan?"

"It depends."

"It depends?" He tilted his head toward his brother. "Depends on what exactly?"

Dean pursed his lips and gave a slight shrug as he killed the Impala's engine. "Well, it depends if what you mean by 'plan' is a surefire actually executable thing, or a kind of vague idea sort of thing."

Sam sighed, knowing he wouldn't like where this conversation was headed. "Right now, I'd take the vague idea kind of thing."

Dean bobbed his head. "Okay. We find the demon, trap it and send it back to hell."

Sam's eyebrows rose, disappearing under the fringe of hair. "That's it?"

The elder Winchester held a hand up in defense. "Hey, it's not like I had a lot of time. Besides, you're supposed to be the brains of this outfit, Sparky. Just ask Agent Smart back there." He hooked a thumb toward the back seat, his eyes turning to scan the darkness outside the window.

"You two are so disappointing."

"Shut up!"

Sam sighed again, his fist clenching as he silently counted to ten so as to not take a swing at the fed or his brother. "So how are we gonna trap it? I doubt they'd appreciate us drawing a devil's trap on the gym floor."

"Holy water?" Dean suggested. "It's a demon, but it's in a kid's body so it might not be as strong as the ones we're used to. I should be able to keep it busy for a little while, but you're gonna have to read fast."

"Uh uh," Sam shook his head. "That's too dangerous, Dean. There's got to be a better way to do it than letting it throw you into walls."

Hendricksen chuckled in the shadows of the back seat. "Sounds like entertainment to me."

"Shut up!" Both voices roared from the front seat as the brother's finally turned to confront their passenger. Hendricksen jumped back quickly at the stereo command, looking from one brother to the next.

After a few moments, Dean decided the agent was going to comply with their rather forceful request and turned back toward the front of the car. "Besides," he continued as if they'd never been interrupted, "if worse comes to worse, we've got the Colt."

"Dean, he's just a kid."

Dean sighed and glanced at Sam, his eyes not able to hold his brother's. They didn't want to kill the innocent kid, but sometimes… well sometimes they knew that it was unavoidable. It was a war and every war had collateral damage. "I know. Like I said, Sammy, talk fast."

Sam suddenly sat up straighter, his eyes squinting into the darkness beyond the Impala. "We don't have much of a choice," he agreed tilting his chin toward the dark figure that was quietly making its way into the darkened school. "There he is."

They watched as Jeremy Sinclair pulled open the locked door with inhuman strength. Sam pulled a shotgun from the floor of the, checking to make sure the rock salt cartridges were loaded. He watched as Dean pulled the Colt from the seat between them, opened the chamber and spun it once before snapping it closed.

"You two are not going to shoot that kid." Hendricksen's voice was laced with contempt.

"Not if we can help it," Sam replied.

"You're both crazy!" The agent tugged at his bonds. "This has gone far enough! I can't let you do this."

Dean turned and leaned an arm across the back of the seat, the Colt lightly grasped in his hand. "Listen, Hendricksen. I'll make you a deal."

"A deal?"

Dean nodded. "You give us 30 minutes. If you still think I belong behind bars or in a padded room eating oatmeal through a straw, then I'll come along quietly."

"Sure you will." Hendricksen spat. "But that's not going to help that kid in there now, is it?"

Dean sighed and shrugged, shaking his head sadly. "Sam and me are the only chance that kid has. You might as well accept that right now."

"Dean…"

The older hunter ducked his head and ran his left hand over his eyes. "No, Sam. This dick wants to judge me? Judge us? Then let's let him really see the truth. Let's let him see what we're really fighting."

"I know. I agree." Sam raised a hand to stop his brother's retort. "I just don't think…"

Hendricksen interrupted, leaning forward, his dark eyes boring into Dean's. "You really think something is going to happen in this fucked up scenario that is going to make me change my mind about you two freaks?"

Dean met the agent's gaze. "I'm counting on it."

TBC