"Just so we're clear, you are not in charge." Dean glanced at the weapons in the trunk of his impala one last time, then slammed the lid shut. Next to him Sam was tucking a small handgun into his waistband, scanning the area beyond the parking-lot we were standing in.
"Yeah I get it," I muttered, "You guys have the guns, the experience, whatever."
"I'm not having some scrawny kid's blood on my hands just because he thought his friend was some sort of hybrid werewolf that could be trusted, alright? If we're gonna help, you're gonna have to hang back and let us keep you safe."
Gee, thanks. "Just don't shoot anyone that's even remotely one of my friends, please."
Sam looked over at us and held up a finger to his lips. "Shh, guys. There's someone moving around in that room." He pointed up at one of the shattered windows on the third floor. The building in front of us used to be a paper-mill, but it had been shut down four years ago when the state found out it had been secretly laundering money in a back room.
"Why of all places do kidnappers have to choose the most uninteresting abandoned ugly buildings…"
Dean waved Sam forward and they both started inching toward the building, guns now drawn. I stayed behind them, looking for any sign of Scott, Lydia, or Allison (or even Derek, but that was doubtful).
"When we get inside, not a word," Dean mumbled from ahead.
I nodded in response, knowing damn well he couldn't see me, and continued creeping along as we got closer to the door.
My eyes drifted across all of the windows, but I didn't see a familiar face peering out from any of them.
"How do we even know this is where they're hiding out?" I grumbled, "For all we know, whatever tip your pal gave you was BS and now we're walking into an ambush!"
"Bobby doesn't lie," Sam assured me.
"And Cas cleared the building with his buddies, according to his sources it should be clear of demons and angels alike. Just werewolves and those who like to take them captive..."
"Hey, do you hear that?" Sam pressed his ear to the door, his face squinched up, intently listening. "There's definitely a girl in there, and she's crying. But at least that means she's alive."
"Let me," I said pressing my own ear to the door.
"Just tell me where you took him, please," Allison's voice was hoarse and wracked with tears.
"They're in there," I said sternly, "I can hear Allison."
"Then shut up and lets go," Dean replied, shooting me a glare that said 'watch yourself'. He nodded to Sam and they both assumed a defensive stance, guns aimed at the door.
"On three," Sam mouthed.
I stood between them, a few steps back, hands clenched into fists. I wasn't sure I was going to like what was on the other side of the door, but I had to get Allison out of there unharmed (or Scott, provided he was alive, would most certainly kill me).