Ch 4

Dean sidled along the side of Kristen Losenger's house. He had his pistol drawn. He knew the witch had taken his brother and his best living friend. If she thought she was going to make it out of this thing alive, she had another thing coming. As Dean rounded the corner of the house, he glanced behind him, hoping that no one had seen him and that no one could see him as he disappeared behind the house. Gripping his pistol, he inspected the back of the house. It looked like an average suburban house. It had several entrance points, from the back door to several windows to a cellar door.

The weary hunter had quickly deduced that this woman had wanted to keep up appearances so her altar would probably not be in plain sight. He sighed as his glaze fell to the cellar door. It had a large lock on it, but it was not something that would be hard to pick. Dean slipped on the safety of his gun and slipped it into his waistband, where he would be able to reach it quickly, and removed his lock pick and set to work on the lock that was surely going to take a maximum of one minute to pick. The lock had quickly given way to the expert lock picker, as he swung the wooden doors open. As he peaked in, he had seen a dark stairway with a sketchy looking light at the bottom that only showed a dirty cement floor. Dean quickly put away his lock picks and removed his pistol from his waist line once more, flicking the safety off, he began a slow descent down the stair, moving silently and cautiously as a man with military training would.

When Dean was two-thirds of the way down the stairs the light began flickering. His internal alarms started blaring. Great, the last thing I need right now is a spirit or a demon on my ass.

He gripped the pistol and tentatively began moving through the sparsely lit basement. Dean searched the darkness and listened for any indication that the witch was coming down the stairs. Suddenly he heard some rustling in the far corner. He raised his pistol and approached the area where the sound had come from. It was someone under a big tarp. As he lifted the corner of the tarp and pulled it away, an elongated leg came up and nearly kicked him in the face. Dean had barely avoided being kicked before he whispered, "Hey, watch it I'm here to help you, dumbass."

"Dmm?" came a muffled response

"Sammy?"

"Dmm!"

"Dude! What happened? Hold on, I'll get you outta here." Dean whispered

"Dmm!" Sam tried to warn his brother as an iron rod came down and knocked him out and then moved back towards Sam. As it came down at him, Sam slipped into unconsciousness once more.

Dean woke up to see bright red hair. His immediate thoughts were that Abaddon had found them. Then he remembered the witch. He tried to reach for his knife that he kept at within the folds of his jacket, but found that his hands were tied. Literally. Dean tried to test his restraints, and found the rope held him in place quite well. Damn, this chick really knew how to tie a knot. He tried again, as she turned to face him. She'd be kinda hot if it wasn't for the fact that she's an evil bitch.

"So what now?" Dean asked, "You got us."

The witch leaned in close to Dean and began tracing his face with her nail, and smiled. "You're right. I have you right where I want you. But I know someone who would love to have you. In fact, she would kill for the full set of the Winchester hunting boys and company." She nodded to the lump where Castiel lay. "So I'm going to get top dollar for you." She smiled cruelly as she stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make." With that Ms. Lozenges left the room and the light went out.

"I do not believe that is a good sign," Cas mumbled from the corner.

As Kristen shut the door to the basement, she thought of all the things that awaited her after she handed these three to Abaddon. What rewards she would reap. She would be a queen among mortals and her power would grow until no one would dare to challenge her. Pity these boys wouldn't be able to see their world burn. No matter though, it was a small sacrifice in her quest for larger things in the world. She smiled and turned to the kitchen to contact Abaddon. It was time to get this started.

Dean tested his bonds once more before laying his head back on the wooden beam that held up the house that was above him. He looked towards where he had last seen Sam. Damn, he couldn't see anything in this darkness. "Sammy, you ok?" he asked

"Mm" came the reply and a couple of grunts followed by a real response, "Yeah. Sorry, Dean I should have seen it coming."

"It's not your fault Sam. Nothing you could have done." Cas said attempting to calm his partner down.

"Well, there is but it's too late now. We gotta get the drop on this witch before she calls Ababitch to have a slaughter fest with a Winchester and an ex-angel special. Can either of you two get out of these damned ropes?" Dean said. He was starting to get pissed off. Why did they always end up on the grill like this?

"'Ello boys. Looks like you're a bit tied up," an English accent quipped.

"Crowley! What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be searching for the blade?" Dean demanded

"Well, you see with it being that cold and damp , you can only take so much before it's time for a break," an audible snapping of the fingers could be heard and the light in the center of the room flickered to life. Underneath stood Crowley, with a bottle of scotch in one hand and a half empty glass in another. "I thought I deserved a break." He smiled as he took a sip of his scotch

Dean could almost hear Sam roll his eyes. "So, what? You decide to come and check out your'Golden boy'?"

"Shut up Sam!" Dean growled.

Crowley lowered his glass, and looked at Sam. "I can always just leave you here Moose, and just take Squirrel, there with me." As he nodded at Dean

"You can, but you wouldn't." Castiel piped in.

Crowley turned to the fallen angel. "Oh, look a talking penguin. Although," Crowley said thoughtfully, "You're right. If I did, Dean would bitch and complain about it and then probably stab me as soon as he finished. So," Crowley snapped his fingers and the trios bonds fell away. "Don't say I never do anything for you." He smirked again and disappeared.

Dean rubbed his half-raw wrists as he stood up front the concrete floor and looked at the other two men standing up. He found their weapons in a basket on an old filing cabinet that may have been a good hiding place for some kids or the short witch. The Marked man returned the weapons to his brother and best friend.

"Alright. Let's go kill a witch." Dean grinned and began to formulate a plan.