"Thor." The cool voice sounded way too loud in the quiet of the cell. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure."

Thor flinched lightly at the heat in the voice. Okay so Loki was still mad, that's understandable. After all the Asgardian was responsible for locking up the frost giant, for good reason as Loki had destroyed the city in his invasion, but nevertheless, Loki was still mad.

"Please Brother I require assistance." The Asgardian pleaded. The blonde haired man placed a hand on the bars, leveling his gaze with the black haired man in the corner. The frost giant huffed in annoyance and turned his back to the larger man.

"Why on earth would I help you with anything?" Loki was not pouting, Loki absolutely did not pout, and if his arms were crossed (as much as they could be while they were chained) and if his lips were puffed out, neither man acknowledged it.

"Because were family!" The Asgardian stated matter of factly, "And just because of recent actions..."

He was effectively cut off as a pair of hands grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him unforgivingly into the bar, colliding his forehead with the metal and making his ears ring, and holding him there. "If these cuffs weren't suppressing my power, I'd kill you where you stood, brother." The smaller man hissed closely, too close, before throwing Thor backwards and stalking back to his corner that he had long since been residing in. Far too long.

Thor righted himself quickly before throwing himself back at the bars, much akinned to that of a wild animal, he was starting to become angry. "Enough of this! Do you have the power to bring a man back from death, yes or no?!"

And maybe it was the tone of desperation, or maybe it was the ridiculousness of the question itself, but Loki barked out a cold and unforgiving laugh. "You have spent too much time with humans that their fantasy have start to grow on you brother. There is nothing to be gained by bothering me, of course something that ridiculous isnt possible. Do you think of me as some sort or miracle worker? I am the God of Tricksters you moron, not the God of Make Believe. What is the matter brother? Has one of your friends met the hand of fate?"

Loki couldn't stop the smirk on his face, maybe there was justice in the world.

"Yes. The werewolf's brother." Thor solomnly hung his head.

And if that statement didn't throw Loki immediately to his feet he really would have been just a shell of a god, "Werewolf? I thought they were extinct!"

Thor narrowed his eyes at Loki's percieved excitement, "Aparently they have been running freely in Midgard, and one of them has joined our clan."

Oh how very... Interesting. Loki stiffled a smirk and returned to his seat, facing away from the annoyance of a man behind him. Maybe it was time for him to revist Midgard after all.

Line Break

It was dark when Thor arrived with the news. There was no help coming, there was no hope, there was no miracle about to happen. Dean couldn't stay in that place anymore, he was going insane with the constant smell of Sam. The wolf stumbled his way down the pathway, his boots sloshing and sticking in the mud below. How long had it been raining? It felt like years. Dean raised another bottle to his lips and took a long pull before lowering it with a sigh and stumbling onward. The worst thing about being a werewolf? High tolerance. But that didn't mean that he was impervious, after all he was... fourteen bottles in? Or was this seventeen? Did it matter? Does anything matter? It didn't even matter that he was lost in the woods at the moment, it didn't matter that he was trying to drink himself out of pain, it didn't matter that he knew he was being followed.

Oh wait, maybe that mattered. The wolf turned slowly but was only met with the darkness of night and the sound of rain. He took a deep breath, attempting to scent whoever was around him, but unfortunately whoever they were was just out of reach of the perimeter that he had, especially with the rain. He sighed heavily before flopping down unceremoniously onto the ground, the cold seeping into his jeans.

"I know you're there." He called out slowly. No he didn't know who it was, but he needed them to be aware that he was aware of their presence.

A twip snapped directly behind him, causing the wolf to turn a little too sharply, disorrienting him. Apparently he hadn't hunted drunk in a while. Cold metal pressed itself into Dean's temple.

"Give me a reason why I shouldn't put you down right here." And there was the last voice he wanted to hear right now.

"Because it wouldn't matter," Dean whispered, almost too low for John to hear him, almost as if he was trying to convince himself.

The wolf tilted his head slowly backward, as to not startle the older hunter, and met dark eyes.

"Did you know you were right about me?" And if Dean's voice caught in his throat he pretended that it didn't. The Hunter said nothing, he just stared at the monster before him. "About what a moster I am." Those dark unforgiving eyes bore into him as hard as the gun pressed into his temple. And it was like a waterfall, for the first time in years Dean couldn't stop talking.

"I went to a crossroad, I made the box. I was gonna trade my life for his. For S-sa... She wouldn't take my soul. She wouldn't take my deal! Monster souls don't go to hell, where the FUCK do they go then?! Why is my life so mediocre that i can't even give it up for the only family I have left? What did I do in life that so fucked up that I deserve everything that's happened to me? Why did you turn on me when i needed you the most? Have i not sacrificed EVERYTHING in my life that you asked me to? Have I not given EVERYTHING to you? When mom died and you shut down, who took care of you? I did! I was four years old! And when he left for college who took care of you? I fucking did! And when you would come home at night, drunk off your ass, and decided to make me a fucking punching bag, where was I? Right fucking next to you. Every time! And when my world fell apart and I became this fucking MONSTER? WHERE WERE YOU? OH THAT'S RIGHT I REMEMBER! YOU WERE RIGHT BESIDE ME EVERY STEP OF THE WAY, ITCHING TO PUT A BULLET IN MY FUCKING HEART."

Dean couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment when he had turned, couldn't exactly tell you at what point he had knocked the gun out of his father's hand and pushed him to the ground. But he did know, at this exact moment, was the first time he was itching to taste human flesh.