Warning: Swearing, as usual.
Author's Note: Sorry about last night, I had to work all of a sudden, so there I was all night. Stacking shelves. Yay for me! But yeah, sorry.
Chapter 9: A Debt Never Paid
He didn't know what he expected to find. Man, beast, naked women dancing to music he and Ash couldn't hear.
But whatever he imagined, it wasn't a young women hanging by her wrists from the ceiling, bright blue eyes staring at them with nothing less than pure terror.
"Jesus, get her down," Dean spat after a moment, taking in the bruises and welts with horror. He leapt forward, matched stride for stride by Ash, and together they gently took a hold of her body. She quivered under their touch, but didn't scream, barely even whimpered.
Dean stood on the balls of his feet, using his knife to cut the ropes from her wrists. Slowly, ever so slowly, Ash lowered her. She cried out as her arms dropped, though biting back the scream of pain that was so evident in those expressive blue eyes.
Ash held her up as she continued to breathe heavily through her nose, silent tears rolling down her face, the light of the torch quickly replacing the lighter. In the light of the latter, Dean would later remark, her bruises seemed too dark against an unearthly sheen to her skin.
"Did Mahone do this to you?" he asked gently. She nodded, grimacing at the pain.
"I found out," she muttered, voice laced with emotion. Relief being the main one. Dean wondered how long she had been left hanging there.
"About him selling people?" Ash asked. She nodded once more.
"About that. And about other things. Things you wouldn't believe."
Dean couldn't help the sad smirk that came over his face. "Oh yeah? Try us."
She looked up at him, and he was almost mesmerized by those eyes. He knew why Mahone had wanted her in his club. Those eyes alone…
Those eyes weighed him, judging him. Finally she seemed to come to a conclusion. "About his deal."
"Are you completely fucking nuts?" Sam suddenly shouted, tightening his hold on Anya. "Do you have even the slightest idea what the hell you're dealing with? That bastard is a demon. A demon! As in, from hell. You know, big place, full of death, and fear and pain! And you're dealing with him! Do you want to die?"
"That's just it," Mahone snapped tersely. "I don't want to."
Sam took a mental step back. "What do you mean?" he asked, voice quiet. There was something to the man's voice, a primal fear, a terror, a knowledge. He couldn't well explain it, but it squashed his anger.
"I mean, if I don't deliver, I die. And I don't want to die!"
The demon grinned down at Sam as the hunter stared in horror at Mahone. "You're a sick fucking freak, you know that," he muttered, shaking his head. And at it, Mahone seemed to snap.
"I have no choice. It's me or them. And I'm choosing me. You don't understand!" Mahone once more lost a grip on his emotions, running a frantic hand through his hair. "The others who had made deals were all dead, dead in horrible ways… I didn't want to die… I made another deal, my life for the continual supply of others. It's no choice!"
And it was then that Sam realized. "You made a deal with him?" he whispered in horror. "What for? What did you want so desperately that you'd turn to the thing humans have abhorred for centuries?"
Mahone chuckled grimly. "Success. My club was shit. I made a deal to turn it all around."
"And then a year ago the demon came back wanting payment in full!" Sam snapped, that anger returning. "Only you didn't want to pay the price. And now countless others are!"
The man shrugged. "Yep, that about sums it up."
Sam was stopped from retorting by the sudden ringing of a cell phone. Everyone looked around, wondering who it belonged to. After a moment Landly answered it, moving back for privacy, though they could all hear it.
Ignoring it, Sam looked down at Anya, who smiled comfortingly up at him. He smiled quickly back, though the anger still boiled below the surface. Mahone was even more of a bastard then he thought.
The cell phone snapping shut woke him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Landly smiling at him in a way that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"That was Drury," the guard said. "About an hour ago he stormed the address where this kid said his partner was. Gave a couple one hell of a fright. He's bringing them in now."
Sam swallowed as Mahone stared at him, though it was from the guilt that someone had actually been staying where he had sent Mahone's troops. And that he had gotten them into the same trouble he himself was more than knee deep in. Then he shrugged.
"What did you expect me to do, tell the truth?"
Five minutes later Danielle, the girl they had found hanging by her wrists, had told all she knew of Mahone. She had found out that day about his deal with a demon, the reluctance to pay his debt, and the selling of others to make up that very debt. In all, Dean was now definitely more than willing to shoot the bastard. When Dani had found out, Mahone had attacked her, beating her, stringing her up exactly how Dean and Ash had found her, leaving her there – all because she had gone snooping around after 'Charlotte's' disappearance.
"So you believe me?" Dani asked when she finished. Dean nodded, smiling understandingly.
"Yeah. It isn't the first time we've run into things like this," he told her. He looked up at Ash. "I think we should get out of here now," he suggested.
Ash nodded, helping Dani to her feet. Dean went to the door, opening it to look up. There wasn't going to be an easy way out of there. But hopefully with Dani's help, they would manage.
He trotted carefully up the stairs, wincing as they creaked. At the top he listened for a moment, barely breathing as he strained to hear for any sound that might be a man waiting to shoot him as he emerged from the basement-like room.
No sound came though, and he motioned to Ash and Dani to follow, putting his hand on the door and turning, pushing the door slowly.
The light was nearly blinding after the darkness of the room below, but his hearing was proven correct; no one was waiting as he stepped out into the corridor.
"Dani, which way?" he asked. She pointed in one direction, to their left, too breathless to speak. He nodded, eyes conveying his gratitude, before leading the way.
They were almost out when things went south. Or at least, Dean was sure they were. He could see what he took for the door to the outside, a heavy-looking thing barred and locked. He was scrutinising every detail, hoping he could pick the three locks before they were discovered.
And that was when three men stepped out, guns up, eyes visibly cold even at that distance. Dean reacted first, spinning and ducking, half-dragging Ash and Dani back up the corridor. The first bullets whizzed past them while they were still five feet from the corner. Due to luck, good or bad, it wasn't until they were diving around that very corner that a bullet struck.
Dani screamed as the bullet tore through her leg, dragging her to the ground as the three of them rounded the corner. Ash fell with her, and Dean knelt before them both, cursing under his breath. No one could hear it above the screams suddenly coming from the back of the club, women crying out as pandemonium began. Dean wondered if anyone in the club knew what was going on.
"Which way, Dani?" he demanded, ignoring the commotion, ignoring the bullets getting closer, ignoring emotion as he took control, knowing caring for her leg would see all three dead. It was cold, he knew, just like he knew that later he would hate himself for it. But for now, they had to get out of the club. "Dani, please. Which way?"
She pulled her attention to him, those blue eyes settling on his. "Down the hall, until you hit the stairs. Go up, and around, through the third door on the right." She paused for a moment, groaning and closing her eyes. Dean noticed Ash's knuckles turning white around her hand. "There's a fire escape out the window. You can use it to get back down and to your car. Quickly, go!"
Dean nodded and bent to pick her up. He felt her protest, knowing she wanted them to leave her, thought they would, but the jolt as he took her body in his arms quietened them. He looked at Ash.
"Lead the way," he ordered, his voice surprisingly calm, considering the bullets just about raining down on them.
They raced as quickly as they could down the hall, though Dean struggled, even under Dani's small weight. He felt a stab of guilt every time she winced or cried out, his grip squeezing her bruises, or the ribs he was sure were broken. She wasn't in great shape. None of them were, considering she was also leaving a blood trail for anyone to follow.
The stairs were hard, but Dean managed, trying to soothe Dani as she clung to him. Her groans were coming less often, her face going pale, her breathing more laboured. And to make matters worse, the shooters were pounding after them, guns paused, but intent obvious as they raced after the three.
Suddenly the stairs ended and Dean spun around the banister, immediately looking for the third door on the right. What his eyes found instead would haunt his dreams for a long time to come.
A man stood waiting for them a small distance down the hall, gun up, face impassive, a look far worse than the icy calmness of the three men chasing them. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. As Dean's eyes rested on the man, he swore he saw the trigger finger tighten, pulling back, and letting loose.
The bullet, going far too slow when Dean thought back to it, the only way he could remember it, sailed through the air. At the same time, it went far too fast for him to be able to move. His eyes could only follow it, heartbeat ringing in his ears and drowning out all other sound.
Blood sprayed over his face as the bullet found its target, and Dani's weight slumped in his arms. The shooter didn't have a chance to shoot again, as Ash stuck three rounds in him. Dean didn't see it, not the shots, not the man falling to the ground, nothing. Any chance of thinking, of retaliating, was gone, swamped by the image of the life fading from those haunting blue eyes, and the too-neat hole squarely between them.
He dropped to his knees, unable to bear his own weight anymore, let alone hers. She rolled from his arms, and he could only watch, petrified by what had just happened. Sound was gone, touch too, and smell, and everything. Everything except a horrible, hollow feeling in his gut as those eyes stared up at him and the feeling of her blood dripping down his face.
A sudden tug on his jacket pulled him part of the way from the oblivion he had been spiralling down. Feeling as if he had just run a mile, though he lacked the breathlessness, he looked into Ash's pale face.
"Come on," the younger man said softly, the urgency nonetheless obvious in his voice. "We have to get out of here."
Dean stumbled to his feet, lurching into a run as he heard someone count to three. Later he realized it was Ash. At the time he still felt too dumb-struck to do much but follow. He could still feel the weight in his arms, could easily remember the crash in his shoulder as her body snapped back, the force of the bullet passing through her.
Somehow he made it into the room and down the fire escape. The cold of the night air was as good as a slap in the face and he took charge once more, taking lead position as he and Ash ran from the alley. They didn't stop, hearts pounding in time with feet.
It wasn't until they reached the car that Dean staggered to a halt. His whole body shook, a mixture of horror, guilt and shock. Ignoring Ash's blatant worry, he walked to the gutter and, one hand on the Impala's hood, vomited until there was nothing to bring up but those sensations of Dani dying in his arms. Those sensations that felt so familiar from the moment those weeks ago when his own father had died in his arms.
After what seemed like an eternity, he stood up straight, shaking only from exhaustion now. Ash was standing awkwardly behind him.
"Are you -?" he began to ask. Dean cut him off.
"I'm fine!" he snapped, grabbing his keys from his pocket and opening the trunk.
Ash seemed to ignore him. "Cause if you need to -." Once more Dean cut him off, standing up straight so fast all Ash could do was flinch before the older hunter's fist was tight in the younger hunter's shirt.
"I swear, if you say talk, I will kill you," Dean threatened, his face an inch from Ash's. Shoving the kid away harshly, he tossed his gun into the trunk and went around to the driver's side, glaring at his current partner over the roof. "Casualties happen," he continued in a hard voice. "And talking isn't going to bring them back."
Casualties happen… poor Dean, so much emotional turmoil. Hopefully I'll post tomorrow night!
