-Chap rated M for language!-

10

Something There That Wasn't There Before

Wednesday

Kat stared at the man, horrified. She knew what Alastair had made Dean do down there, how he trained him to torture after he said yes. You are all familiar with this part, aren't you, my readers? Of course you are.

Sweetie was still shaking, still staring at the man with the monstrously cool smirk on his face.

"Hello, Kitty," he chuckled. She said nothing, merely looked from him to Dean, as if looking for the possible link between the two besides their identical appearances. "What, you don't like me? I thought for sure the whole serial killer vibe would get the juices flowing." She sneered at him, repulsed. He laughed. "Oh, did I hurt the precious one? That weakling?" He laughed harder. "He's such a pathetic bitch."

"Shut up," Sweetie snapped, his voice faltering slightly.

"And what are you going to do about it? You're nothing, you hear me? Nothing. You're almost as weak as he is. I've detested that stupid bitch for as long as I can remember. I wanted to rip his pathetic little face off or beat him until he couldn't cry anymore. That stupid, disgusting little-"

Grumpy punched the wall directly beside his head, face deep red, anger radiating from him. "You shut your fucking mouth!" He growled. Quiet grinned.

"Or…what?" He challenged. "What could you possibly do to me?"

"Never let you leave that chair," Castiel said darkly.

"Here," Paranoia said, handing Grumpy a rope.

"Why'd you wait?" Dean asked as Grumpy tied him tightly enough to cut off circulation. Quiet grunted once in discomfort, but seemed relatively unfazed.

"Who attacks before they understand their surroundings? I had to find the easiest point of attack. The weaknesses. And God," he shook his head, laughing in his low and rumbling voice, "did I find them." He grinned maliciously at Sweetie.

"That was you," he breathed. "You've been saying those things. You-"

"Yes, you sniveling idiot!" Quiet barked, suddenly irate. "God, you and that whimpering bitch make me sick! All I've ever wanted to do was carve you out just to get some peace and quiet! I'm stuck listening to him mope and whine about things that happened years ago that he needs to get the fuck over. And you, always wanting to hug and talk about our feelings. It makes me want to rip YOUR THROATS OUT!" He smiled to himself, shutting his eyes. "Ah, I can almost taste it."

Kat, hands shaking slightly, took Dean's arm, wanting to get away from this monster as quickly as she could. "Cas, make sure he stays there." The angel nodded slowly, his glaring eyes never leaving the bloodthirsty man's face. She tugged Dean out of the room. Grumpy, seething, guided Sweetie out, nodding for Paranoia to follow. Sam left behind them, looking at Quiet one more time before shutting the door.

Castiel stood in front of the door, arms folded, eyes hard. Quiet smiled.

"You know this is what Dean was in Hell, don't you? This is what you saved. Not exactly a 'righteous man' is it?" The angel remained placid. "I was having so much fun down there, and you went and spoiled it."

"I can take your vocal chords away" he warned. Quiet shrugged.

"With or without them, I'm still going to get out of this."

"I find that highly doubtful," Castiel said plainly. Quiet laughed again.

"You'll see…you'll see…"

Deanne dabbed the cut on Cry-Baby's eye, touching his cheek when he whimpered. "Sorry, sweetheart." He sniffed, not looking at her as she worked. Happy patted his back.

"Guess we can't call him Quiet anymore," Deanne said.

"Yeah," Happy snorted. "What the hell should we call him?"

"I'm kinda partial to Alastair Junior," Smartass chuckled. Cry-Baby shook his head, shaking a little.

"I was thinking something like Dr. Evil," Deanne snickered, easing Cry-Baby's shirt off of him and tending to his ribs.

"It's not funny," he mumbled. She looked at him, at the tear slowly making its way down his cheek.

She quickly wiped it away, looking at him apologetically. "Hey, hey…we're just trying to make this better than it is." He sniffed.

"I think we should call him Psycho," Kat said, walking in with everyone.

"That works," Smartass said. "Short, sweet and to the point."

Kat shoved Dean into a seat, covering his mouth when he went to protest. "Just cleaning up Cry-Baby is like using half of a band-aid. It doesn't fix anything. Now sit still and shut up."

Dean stared at her, brow creased in worry. "Are you alright?" He asked.

She kept her eyes on his bruised ribs, continuing her work, lips pursed. "Not really." She squeezed Cry-Baby's hand while reaching for the bandages. Dean's frown deepened.

"Kitty," he ducked his head, meeting her eyes. "Kitty, are you scared of me?"

Happy nodded toward the door, meeting the others' eyes. They followed him out of the room, not wanting to intrude. All that remained were Deanne, Kat, Dean and Cry-Baby.

She didn't answer, and her silence was the worst part of it. His concern changed to sadness, utter despair in glassy eyes. Cry-Baby sniffed, fresh tears on his face and sobs in his chest. Kat looked at him, her heart wilting.

"Dean, hey, I'm just…I don't know. I'm afraid of him, not you," she amended. Dean nodded, staring at the floor. She sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Dean, I…God, I hate this. And yeah, it scares me that you were like that once, it makes me wonder what could make you like that again." Cry-Baby was shaking. Deanne frowned, looking from him to Kat.

Kat lifted his chin. "That doesn't mean I'm going anywhere. I just don't know what that thing can do," Dean winced. Well, she is on a roll, isn't she? "I, Dean…"

She didn't know what to say. Yes, she feared Qui-, oh, sorry, Psycho, but that didn't mean she was going to leave. It scared her that that was what Dean was while he was in Hell, while he was torturing. She'd seen him angry before, seen him want to rip something apart for hurting Sam, or her, or the Impala –she's equally important, you know-, but never anything like this. She was scared and worried, but her feelings for Dean remained the same.

Cry-Baby broke down, sobbing into his hands. "I'm sorry, Kat," he bawled. She turned, startled. "I-I'm sorry. I n-never meant to turn in-into that. I'm s-so sorry…"

Dean was staring at him, eyes watery and incredulous that he was speaking his own thoughts aloud.

"P-please, don't b-be scared of me. I-I'll try to do something to m-make it go away, I will! I-"

She cupped his face in her hands, looking in those chaste eyes of his. His lips trembled, the fact that his shirt was missing only adding the aching picture of vulnerability that he was.

"Shh…" She said softly. She kissed his forehead and his cheeks, not having the strength to touch his lips and feel the sadness inside him. She handed him his shirt, stroking his cheek again.

"Baby, why didn't you tell us about him?" She asked gently.

"B-because I'm scared of him. He-he would have killed m-me if I told. An', an' if he's left in Dean's head without me th-there…g-god, I, I can't let th-that happen, Kat, I c-can't." She hugged him, rocking him gently.

"Shh, shh, okay. It's alright, 'Baby. It's okay." She glanced at the doorway, meeting Sam's eyes. He nodded in understanding. "Sam's gonna stay here with you, is that alright?" He nodded, pulling his T-shirt over his head gingerly.

Kat turned, touching Deanne's shoulder in silent thanks. She took Dean's hand, leading him to their room.

He said nothing, lost in his own thoughts, wondering what she wanted to say to him privately. He was afraid and weary. He wanted to run down the hallway and drive a knife into Psycho's heart, forever ridding him of that awful feeling. But he couldn't. Despite the strong urge to so, he needed him. He gave him the drive to hunt, the drive to kill, the ability to live with killing something that only deserved it because it could potentially hurt someone.

Kat remained silent. They reached the room and she shut the door behind them. He looked at her for a beat.

"Kitty, I-"

She kissed him softly, hands his chest, caressing slowly. Goosebumps rose over his soft skin under her fingertips as she kissed him languidly. He fell back on the bed, closing his eyes and sighing. He had one arm above his head, the other hand linked with hers. She gently kissed his neck and his lips, feeling how tired he was, how much strain he was under once again. She held his cheek, looking in those depthless eyes of his. "It's gonna take more than some guy in black who thinks he's a badass to scare me away," she whispered. He smiled a little, finally happy to hear something good. And so am I for that matter. But if you think Psycho is going to stay in that chair of his, well…you'd better think again.