Take Your Shot
You tried reaching for the pick yourself, but between the boys, your chains wouldn't allow it. Another sound of footsteps caught your attention as you tried from a different angle. Slower, with slightly more weight to them. Not Henriksen. A man in a suit appeared at the cell door. "Sam and Dean Winchester, Y/N Weston. I'm Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure." Two Feds decreases our chances dramatically for an ambush… "Glad one of us feels that way."
"I've been waiting a long time for you two and your friend here to come out of the woodwork." If they can handle about two each I can possib-huh? Is that blood? SEARING PAIN. SEARING PAIN IN THE SHOULDER HOLY MOTHER OF-. You hadn't heard the gun go off, but you sure as hell felt it. Springing into action, you tucked and rolled, giving Sam and Dean the freedom to fight the gun from his hands, but not before he fired a few more rounds into the cell. Sam managed to pry the weapon away and you looked up to see black eyes staring back. Sam began the exorcism. Groves started to scream and gurgle. "Sorry. Got to cut this short. It's gonna be a long night, fellas." He screamed and dissipated into the vent above. Now that your adrenaline wasn't spiking, you began to really notice the pain in your shoulder. Sam and Dean rushed to your side, trying to help with what they could. You looked down and exhaled in relief. No major arteries had been punctured, but it still hurt like hell.
"Put the gun down!" Yelled the Deputy as he and Henriksen ran in. "He shot him!"
"I didn't shoot him. I didn't shoot anyone." Sam defended. You looked to the officers, trying to calmly explain, "He shot me." Given that everyone else was yelling, it made no impact. "Get on your knees now!" The three of you lowered to the ground. "Okay, okay, okay. Don't shoot. Please. Look. Here. Here" Sam dropped the gun between the bars while Dean tried to explain, "We didn't shoot him. Check the body. There's no blood. We did not kill him." Henriksen gave the nod to do so.
"Vic, there's no bullet wound." Henriksen looked to you, clutching your shoulder. You threw him a bone, "He's probably been dead for months."
"What did you do to him?"
"We didn't do anything."
"Talk, or I shoot."
"You wouldn't believe us." Sam interrupted the argument. "He was possessed."
"Possessed? Right. Fire up the chopper. We're taking them out of here now."
"Yeah. Do that." Spat Dean. The Deputy pulled his walkie out and held the button. "Bill." He was only met with static. "Bill, are you there?" Again, nothing. He quickly exited the hall and a second Officer kicked the gun away from Sam's reach.
BOOM! An explosion caused all of you to jump. You ducked, not wanting anyone to get trigger-happy…again. "What the hell was that? Reidy? Reidy!? What the hell was that…come in!" Panic painted everyone's faces as Henriksen was met with only silence. Abruptly turning, he paced down the hall, the others following behind.
You had your own theories about the explosion, but Sam and Dean turned to you, looking down at your shoulder. Right. The fact that I'm losing feeling there is probably a bad sign. You nodded your consent as they carefully helped you remove your flannel. An armhole encased one of the chains, but it was long enough that you could still use the fabric to put pressure on the wound.
The lights immediately went out and the three of you froze, looking up at the source. It took about ten seconds for the backup generators to kick on. "Well, that can't be good." Dean commented. You rolled your eyes at him and he pressed on the wound. You hissed, unable to hold it in. "All right, don't be such a wuss." He was lucky your arm was incapacitated or that would've earned a smack.
"What's the plan?" Interrupted your impromptu doctor's appointment. Henriksen made it to the cell before he continued, "Kill everyone in the station, bust you all out?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Asked Dean.
"I'm talking about your psycho friends. I'm talking about a bloodbath."
"Okay, I promise you, whoever's out there is not here to help us." Dean clarified. Sam chimed in with his puppy-dog eyes. "Look, you got to believe us. Everyone here is in terrible danger."
"You think?" Henriksen said sarcastically. It was your turn, common sense being the strategy this time. "I know it goes against your very DNA, but if they were here for us, we'd be out by now. Your best bet is to let us out yourself so we can actually do something to save you."
"From what?" You shut your mouth, not wanting his disbelief to chink your logic. "You gonna say 'Demons'? Don't you dare say 'Demons'. Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me." He left after his threat. You all sighed and Sam broke the tension. "How's the shoulder?" You pulled the flannel back, seeing the blood seep through to the other side. Not good. "I'll live." Dean added, "Well, only if we get out of here alive. So you got a plan?" You sighed again, replacing the flannel with a different section. "Had one. It was a long shot though. And that was before the demons showed up." Dean leaned you forward carefully, checking the exit wound from your back. Sam lightly elbowed the two of you, getting your attention to look and see Nancy peeking around the corner. Maybe she can be our out after all. Sam called to her, "Hey! Hey, uh, please. Please. We need your help. It's—It's Nancy. Nancy, right? Nancy, my—our friend's been shot. She's—she's bleeding really bad. You think maybe you could get us a towel? Please? Just one clean towel?" She didn't answer, but you noticed her leaning closer to you, a sign of budding trust. After a small favor with positive interactions, we can build on that. "Look. Look at us. We're not the bad guys, I swear." Dean smiled and she retreated. Dammit. Gotta have Sam do the talking, Dean's too intimidating. "Nice try." You praised.
Before you could get too dejected, you turned to see Nancy step back into the room, a towel in hand. "Thank you." Sam started. You turned to Dean and shook your head, not wanting him to scare her off for good. "It's okay." Sam coaxed. She slowly walked towards you, her steps calculated. "Thank you." She reached her arm out and slipped the towel between the bars. A bit too trusting… "Thanks." Sam reassured. He showed her his hands and grabbed the towel. You exhaled, happy to have a positive…Oh my god, what is he doing?! Sam grabbed her arm and forced her against the bars. She's never gonna trust us now you moron! She screamed another officer came running. "Let her go! Let her go!" He pointed a rifle and you raised your one available hand as the boys did the same…only with both. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Nancy retreated, terrified. "You okay, Nance?" She nodded. "Try something again, get shot. And not in the arm." Well, that was unnecessary. Speaking of unnecessary…You lifted your elbow of your injured arm and swung your body so it would smack Sam. Yes, it the impact hurt like hell, but it was well worth it. He was an idiot and needed to know it. Dean pulled you back. "What the hell was that?" You questioned. Sam held up a rosary, answering your question. "Oh…well, I'm sure she would've given it to you had you just asked." He turned with a bitch face.
