A.N. Hi Rebecca) & babyreaper. Love that you're joining in! Rebecca, did your idea of what was going off turn out to be right? Also, a big thank you to everyone else who is following this wee tale. Hope it's going ok for you.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Dean's glare was angry, incensed and promised harsh, cold, murder. He pushed his chair away from the table. As he stood, he slammed both hands palms down on the table causing glasses and cutlery to bounce.
"Stuff your stuffed mushrooms and stop kidding yourself that I'm a guest. I don't want dinner, I want answers! Tell me what you've done with my brother….and then tell me what the fuck you want from me! COMPRENDE Douche Bag?"

Senses heightened, Dean caught movement in his peripheral vision. Without taking his eyes off the host, one hand shot out, rattle snake fast and grabbed the carving knife off a platter of meat. The host stiffened as the carving knife ended up being held across his throat.
"Stay out of this Lurch, or your master won't be able to wear a bow tie anymore! You…call your creature off."
"As you wish….Stand down Mr Lang. I won't be needing your assistance at present."
Dean risked a quick glance in the direction of the Lytch who now stood still and expressionless. He turned back to the Necromancer, who looked back at Dean calmly.
"You do realise, I assume, that your blade won't kill me? You do know that, do you not? So, that being the case, I am sure you must realise that all your strutting and threatening is entirely pointless really. Would you agree?"
"Well, I'm not so sure. Tell you what. Either you give me some answers, or we can carry out a fun experiment and see how well you cope without a head!"
As Dean spoke, he pressed the knife more firmly against the Necromancers neck. The host sighed.
"I admit, such an event could be a tad inconvenient for a short time. But I assure you, an inconvenience is all it would be. Please, sit down. Sit down and you have my word that I will answer your questions as fully and honestly as I am able. You see? Even with this little fracas, I am prepared to remain civilised about all this Dean. I even comprehend your need for, and forgive, the crude language on this occasion. Dean? Please?"

Dean hesitated, then slowly sat, ensuring that he kept the carving knife on view, it's blade pointing toward the Necromancer. Dean was totally prepared to be an inconvenience at any given moment.
"Thank you Dean, I appreciate this. Now then…I believe your first concern was for your brother?"
"Where is he? If you've harmed him…"
"Believe me Dean. If your brother has come to any harm it is not by my hands, or by my command. I have absolutely no need of him and, truth be told, no interest in him. When you were brought here, your brother was left sleeping peacefully in your automobile. Anything which may, or may not, have befallen him since that time has nothing what-so-ever to do with me. In all honesty, and I mean no offence, he was and indeed remains, irrelevant to me"

Dean considered the host. If what he said was true, that meant Sam was still out there somewhere. And whilst so ever Sam was free, that meant hope. Dean tried to read the host's face, looking for any clue to indicate the host was lying about Sam.. He saw nothing. Dean allowed the small possibility to ignite that the Necromancer might actually speaking the truth and that Sam really was safely on the outside of this place, in no danger. Despite the recognition that he himself was still just as screwed as he was before, it mattered much less to Dean provided his brother was safe.
"Ok…say that's true. Next question. Why am I here? What do you want from me?"

A distinct feeling of unease flooded through Dean as he saw a broad smile blossom on the Necromancer's face.
"Ahh, Dean. In much the same way as your brother is irrelevant to me, you, my precious one, are extremely valuable to both myself and, I dare say, to all others of my kind."
"Whyfor Chrissake?"
"Why? Oh...my dear boy! Can it really be that you do not realise what you are? What you've become? Oh...oh, now this is just too amusing."
"Glad you're having fun! Now, how about you stop playing with yourself and just tell me what you're freakin' babbling on about?"
The Necromancer chuckled.
"As you wish, I only hope that knowing will be of help to you in some way...Correct me if I am wrong; but were you not in Hell a little while ago, courtesy of a deal made at a cross-roads?"
"Yeah, I know the story, what's your interest?"
"My interest, Dean, does not lay in your deal, nor in your time in Hell. What makes you so special, so unique and by that, so very valuable to me and those of my kind; is the simple fact that you died and yet here you are, returned. Tell me...Has it truly never occurred to you Dean? My beautiful boy...Surely you must realise that to die and be raised again can mean only one thing? Dean, you yourself now walk this earth as one of the living dead!"

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