It's been too long since I've updated this story. I wish I had more time to write, but what with finals coming up right away and a new job, my time is very limited. I will have to squeeze in more writing time VERY soon, because I adore my stories and the people who read them (that's you guys!). :D I hope you enjoy!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Well Dean," Alistair hissed, his lower jaw protruding slightly. "It's been too long. I haven't seen you in what... A few hours?" As he shrugged, his lips curved into a smirk. "I must say, you were no fun as a ghost. But this whole flesh-and-blood thing is very becoming."

Dean himself tried to smirk, but turned into a sort of grimace. "What can I say? I eat my green veggies. Now what do you want?"
Putting on the obvious pretense that he was taken aback, Alistair put a hand on his chest. "What do I want? Well that's interesting. If I remember correctly, Dean, you called me down here. Shouldn't I be asking you that? 'Dean, what do you want?' "
It was a test. Had to be. Dean took a few seconds to collect his temper and lock it up, for the time being at least. What did he want? Other than the obvious? Flexing his jaw so that his teeth pressed together, he sighed internally. "Why the truck?"
The question caused Alistair to bare his teeth in something close to a smile. "You like? Well I was hoping for a mustang, but I guess we can't always get what we ask for." He looked pointedly at Sam, who was watching the scene with a tense expression. "Right Sammy?"
Sam didn't say anything, didn't do anything but stare back, and Alistair's head tilted to the side a bit. Dean knew that look. He had memorized that look frontwards and backwards, and it had been the main image in his nightmare for years. Alistair was analyzing his prey. "Now Sammy... let's not forget our manners" -
"It's Sam."

Shut up, just shutup, Sam! Dean's face felt tight as he tried his absolute hardest to learn telepathy, but his brother just wasn't getting the hint.

"What were we talking about again?" Alistair's face turned back to Dean.

For some reason, going back to this made Dean feel better. Any second spent keeping him away from Sammy was a second well spent. He smiled. "Cars. Mustangs, actually."

"Right. You know, Dean..." Alistair did that little twitchy thing that always freaked Dean out, almost like he was on drugs or something. "You always did have a good memory. I remember that about you. All it would take was one try to teach you something new."

It would always come back to what had happened in hell, wouldn't it? Dean wished that the past would just die. As if the guilt and the nightmares weren't enough, Alistair had to keep freaking following him around like a lost puppy or something. More like a lost bulldog, actually. Just leave me alone! He frowned, searching for some sarcastic remark that would steer the conversation in some other direction. But he also knew that it would just be time-stalling. It wasn't like they were just going to make small talk all night. They were being held captive in a freaking cellar, in the dark, by Hell's grand inquisitor. Alistair obviously had some endgame here, and it didn't look like it was going to end well. Eyes sliding sideways, Dean scanned the table built into the wall where Sam was. Now the handcuffs were starting to make sense… Had Alistair built –

Looking in the direction of the table also, Alistair chuckled. "No Dean, that isn't my work. Please, please tell me you aren't admiring poor craftsmanship like that."

Dean couldn't help reeling at the near mind-reading that just went on. But he recovered quicker than he had before. "What, don't tell me you are insulted? I don't even have my camera here. This is a Kodak moment."

"I would be insulted too, to have made something like that." He turned his head in Sam's direction. "You know what's wrong with a table like that, Sammy?"

Sam, who had long ago quieted down but had been watching the whole altercation with a look of revulsion on his face, sighed. "Well the room service is a little rude, for starters. Hard to think much about the beds."

Dean was torn between being proud of his brother's bravery and terrified that it wouldn't work. Alistair just shook his head. "No, no. That's not it." He waggled a finger in the air, walking towards the table slightly. "I thought it would be obvious. The table is only one-sided." He drew an invisible line above the edge of the table, and Dean noticed Sam tensing. Dean pulled on his invisible restraints again as Alistair turned his face sideways to see him, walking backwards slowly until his legs hit the side of the stone slab, and all the while talking while he did so. "You can only get to the table from the one side. And what fun is that? I thought you would have noticed that as a flaw right away, Dean. I can see where you would neglect to think about things like that, what with being so spoiled and having everything provided for you … but what did I teach you? Convenience, convenience, convenience. It wouldn't do any good if the person on the table has more breathing space than you, would it?"

This conversation would be completely scary and confidence-sinking as it is, let alone happening in Sam's presence. And considering that Sam was the one on the table right now, it was hard to be assertive or realistic about the whole situation. It hurt to think.

Of course, Alistair saw it. The son of a bitch saw everything. He smiled grimly. "Somebody needs to be taught some new lessons."

It was like being backed between a corner and a hard place. Wincing internally, Dean held his ground on the outside. "You can't teach an old dog new tricks, Alistair. Sorry to disappoint."

Alistair moved the short distance it would take for him to sit down on the stone table, leaning his weight back on his hands a bit. When Sam's face was the only thing that flinched, Dean registered that he wasn't the only one being held by the invisible force. The grin on Alistair's face didn't waver, but all the while his eyes showed some kind of amused spark. "Whoever said I was talking about you?"

Woah. Come again? Dean's mind did a temporary stand-still as the meaning of Alistair's words caught up with him, and he couldn't keep himself from leaving his mouth hanging open ever so slightly. "You I wont – you can't – you son of a-a – Y-You… No."

"What?" Before him, Alistair crossed his arms in front of his chest smugly. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Y-You dead s-spineless son of a bitch." Dean could hardly get the words out, his head was spinning so fast. This couldn't be happening. Alistair was his problem. Not Sam's. That's why he made the deal in the first place. His problems, not Sam's. Damnit!

" Calm down… Didn't I just say that the table was all wrong?"

That got him to shut up fast. "What?"

"You need to relax, Dean." Alistair tilted his head to the side for the second time that night. "Let's just call this a… social experiment. Comprende? All I want is a chance to get to know baby bro a bit more, see if he's anything like Winchester parts one and two. You've still got your guns, knives, holy water, and all of your little toys. Everything but picklocks and cell phones. I've got my stone room. Now all Ihave to do is walk out that door, lock it right back up, and wait."

"Wait for what?" His voice was a bit more of a growl this time. At least he wasn't stuttering anymore.

Alistair took his time standing up, but the second there was any space behind him, two of his minions slid in and grabbed hold of Sam.

"Woah. Hold on a second" –

"This is simple, Dean." Alistair continued walking, now in his full glory, until they were face-to-face. "Sam's become a problem."

Dean could see that the two men who had Sam were trying to put him back into the handcuffs, but that the kid was putting up a surprisingly good fight. A loud punch to the gut changed things however, and Sam's muffled cry of pain proved that.

"Hey! Leave him alone" –

"I'm talking to you." Alistair grabbed Dean's jaw and turned his face back towards him. "Now this is about as straightforward as it's going to get. I'm not happy with you right now, but I'll deal with you when this is all over. Right now, you are worthless. Hear me? Worthless. There isn't a single thing you can do, or a single reason for you to even be here other than I need a way to keep you out of harms way. But your brother on the other hand, has something that I want. And until I get it, you two aren't getting out of here." He let go of Dean's face so violently that Dean he was sure that there would be handprints on either side of it. Alistair smiled, and gestured breezily to his men. They all left the room like obedient little dogs, and when Dean got a glimpse of Sam he realized that he was already in the handcuffs again. They all made a move to leave.

Dean felt like a little kid in time-out who didn't understand how he got there. Was Alistair leaving? "I… I don't understand."

Alistair stopped to pick up the oil lamp off the ground, his back to Dean. When he blew it out, the room turned the colour of coal. "You will."