Thanks to everyone following this story. Fair warning, this chapter is a littler weird and has some kindda sorta not violence. No gore, just read.

Dean woke up with a huge pain in his back. Oh right, the demons got them. He's not really sure how, he just remembers getting locked up and having all his weapons removed.

"Sam, you awake?"

A groan sounded beside him. Well, means Sam's not any worse off than earlier.

""Hey Sam, you got any weapons left?" Dean asked

"Yeah a knife, but it's too big to pick the lock, I already tried."

Dean groaned. Dang it, he didn't want Sam to find out this way.

"If I got you some stuff from around the room, do you think you could pick it?" He asked, hating himself for what he was about to do.

"Well yeah, but how are-"

"Gimme the knife Sammy" Sam looked at Dean skeptically, not knowing how that'd help any, but handed it over anyway.

"Look man, just… promise to at least TRY not to freak out ok?" Dean looked so desperate and crestfallen that Sam couldn't do anything but nod.

"Good." And with that, Dean swung the knife and cut off his own hand.

"DEAN WHAT THE HELL?!" Dean held up a hand calmly, giving Sam a wait for it look.

Sam had been expecting a lot of things but not this. Then Dean's hand actually got up and started CRAWLING AROUND! If Sam wasn't freaked out earlier, he certainly was now.

"But-what? Th-that's not- that can't…." For the first time in a long time Sam couldn't even finish a sentence without stuttering. I mean, who can blame him, his brother DID just remove his hand, and now it was crawling around on its OWN!

Deans face showed a brief smug smirk. "Surprise huh?"

"D-does it hurt?" Sam asked, slightly hesitant.

Dean laughed. "Nah, I've dealt with worse."

"DEALT WITH WORSE, DEAN YOU JUST CUT YOUR FREAKING HAND OFF!"Sam shouted.

"Yeah I'm aware of that Sam. Look, can I just get the stuff already so that we can get out of here?" it wasn't really a question, and the hand had already left the cell. Sam watched in awestruck amazement.

It took less than thirty minutes before the door sprung, and they were presented with a new problem.

"Uhhhh, Sammy?" Sam stopped and looked over his shoulder slightly annoyed and just wanting to go home.

"What?"

"We might have a little problem here. I mean, I gotta hide my arm, and there's not really any room left for my hand. Don't really want to get a cab with it like that."

"Well, what do you want me to do?" he asked exasperated.

"Could you, uh, carry it for me?" Well THAT got a reaction from Sam.

"Dean, I'm NOT going to carry your freakin HAND!"

Despite Sam's protest, the argument didn't even last two minutes as they both just wanted to get out of there and not many options presented themselves.

As Sam opened cab door for his brother, he felt the hand fidgeting in his pocket. He shuttered and hissed at Dean "We are SO talking about this later."