Paper Bandages

Chapter 7: Possessed

Dean screamed, his tortured voice wailing in agonizing pain. His shrieks soon turn to dry sobs punctuated with pleads to let him go, make him stop, please, please, just get it off of him.

Long story short, the plan worked.

It had quick, full of holes, and made on the fly. But for once, Winchester luck didn't strike, and the plan had actually worked.

Basically, Dean figured that since they went through all the trouble of capturing him instead of killing him, the demons had probably wanted him alive for something. So if it sounded like Isaac was ripping him apart, they might investigate.

Then Dean would smear blood all over himself, lie still in the shadows, and let Isaac snarl at the demons. While they were busy with Isaac, he would mumble the exorcism under his breath and they'd be on their way.

And well, he hadn't exactly planned for them to knock Isaac out, but Dean would take what he could get. Malnourished as he was, the kid wasn't much trouble to carry, and he stepped over the dead meatsuits with barely a sound.

With the lantern held up high, Dean easily found the dilapidated old staircase, and he ascended quickly but carefully, trying not to knock the unconscious werewolf on his shoulder into any walls.

As he neared the next landing, he could pick up the screams that Isaac had mentioned, but they seemed more like quiet whimpers next to Dean's death wail. Yet another gift he had earned from his time in Hell. It seemed like so long ago when Sam had died for the first time (for the first time, and how messed up was his life that he could say that about his little brother?).

He had bypassed three floors when Dean finally saw the first hint of natural light. If there were demons up there, he would need Isaac up and fully functioning, so he laid the werewolf out across the steps and socked him in the cheek.

Sure, the kid reminded him of Sammy, but he wasn't about to pull his punches that much.

Isaac woke up quickly and quietly- obviously used to being in danger. Once the werewolf was up and running, the two crept up to the top of the stairs.

Dean was just about to take another step when Isaac grabbed his sleeve. He turned to Isaac to ask what was wrong, but froze when he saw the kid's face. Isaac had frozen and had tensed his whole body, skin paling in shock and confusion.

Dean narrowed his eyes, craning his head around to try and see what Isaac was smelling, but he couldn't see around the corner.

"What is it?" he hissed to the werewolf, grasping the other's shoulder and shaking him roughly. A shudder ran through Isaac's body before he finally snapped his gaze over to meet Dean's. Wordlessly, he nodded his head to behind the corner and loosened his grip.

Dean pulled his jacket out of the kid's claws and peered cautiously around the corner. Standing there was a small group of demons, only about twelve or so. The man who seemed to be the leader was young, probably around Isaac's age, although he seemed to be in good shape.

The man said something to the demons, and they disappeared in the blink of an eye. Then he turned and stared right at Dean.

"Come on out, boys," the ironically gentle voice called out. Dean exchanged a glance with Isaac, but stepped out into the open, prepared for anything.

Isaac, on the other hand, looked like he was either about to start crying or killing something. Opening his mouth, the boy choked out,

"Danny?!"