Previously: Sam and Quinn check out TM Motors where the fake vision showed Dean being killed but it's a trap and Sam gets dragged into a van. Quinn runs the van off the road to save him – they get away but Sam is hurt. Meanwhile Jenna is sleeping off the effort it took to bring the demon from hell. When she wakes up, Dean convinces her she's not a freak and wishes he could be so convincing with his little brother.
CHAPTER 7 – STEVE McQUEEN OR PROFESSOR X?
Sam woke up to the feel of a hand pressing against his forehead, the squawking sound of a police scanner somewhere in the background. He jerked in reflex but the motion caused him to groan in pain and he quickly discovered he was sore all over.
He opened his eyes to find Quinn standing next to the bed, leaning over him. "Well about time, sleepyhead," she greeted him with a smile.
He groaned again and rolled his head sideways towards the red numbers on the motel alarm clock. 2:08AM. He gasped in disbelief.
Quinn followed his gaze and clucked at him. "Yeah, you've been out a long time," she said reproachfully before straightening up and reaching for a box on the bedside table. She laid it on the bed next to him. "Pizza. Sorry it's cold but you have got to be needing some food."
Sam nodded, unable to deny how incredibly hungry he was. He pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard, wincing at the pain from the cut in his side and his generally battered body. The memories of everything that had happened came rushing back to him – the trap at the garage, not finding Dean, getting grabbed, the van crashing, Quinn shooting demons in the eyes, him moving the van door with just a thought...
"You mind?" she asked, bringing his attention back to his bruised muscles and his growling stomach. She was pointing at his side where a white bandage was peeking out from the unbuttoned, bloody shirt he was still wearing. "I should check on it."
"Oh, uh, no, I guess not," Sam stammered, grabbing a slice and taking a huge bite, trying his hardest not to moan in pleasure like Dean did when a burger hit just the right spot. He scooted a bit further up onto the pillow and pushed the blanket down to allow her better access to his side, his hunger outweighing his need to investigate the wound himself. "How bad is it?"
She leaned over him to peel off the corners of the tape and lift the bandage. "Probably not as bad as it feels," she murmured, her fingers prodding at him gently. "There's one hell of a bruise around it and you lost a boatload of blood but good news - just six stitches." She looked up at him and grinned. "I did a spectacular job on them if I may say so myself."
Sam just nodded his appreciation, his mouth full. She proceeded to clean the cut, her touch much gentler than Dean's, which surprised Sam a little considering the pair shared the same sarcastic bedside manner. Sam let her work and ate in silence, finishing his first piece of pizza and moving ravenously on to his second.
"I can't believe you ran that van off the road," he said finally, shaking his head in amusement. "You're kinda crazy you know that?"
Quinn just snorted, applying a fresh bandage over his cut, her hands smoothing the edges of the tape and running softly across the lines of his left side. His overwhelming hunger appeased for the time being, it occurred to Sam he hadn't had a woman touching him this much in a long time - since Jessica. He suddenly became intensely aware of Quinn's proximity, her breath on his chest and her fingers pressing along the defined lines of his obliques.
"Never leave a man behind, huh?" he joked.
She laughed, finishing her ministrations and straightening up. "What I should've done was let them take you and just follow the van."
"Why didn't you?" That option hadn't occurred to Sam.
She sighed. "I've been told I don't tend to think things through. I just saw them throw you into that van and I... reacted." She got up and headed over to his duffel, pulling out a clean shirt and tossing it over to him before sitting down on the edge of the other bed.
"That's probably for the better," Sam thought out loud. "Chances are they would have spotted you tailing them anyway. I mean, your car is even less inconspicuous than mine." He gingerly pulled his arms out of the bloody shirt he had on and replaced it with the clean one.
The police scanner had been on since he had woken up and Sam saw Quinn frown again, as she had done every time the 'double homicide' on Cotweiller Avenue was mentioned.
"They know anything?" he queried.
"Nah. It was a quiet street. No witnesses. No mentions of us or my car." She pursed her lips. "They're pretty freaked out about the shooting-out-the-eyes thing, though."
Sam remembered Quinn's reaction to killing the two demon meatsuits before he had passed out and thought he detected a quiver in her voice as she spoke. "How are you feeling?" he asked with genuine concern.
"Me?" she scoffed, getting up and switching off the scanner. "I'm not the one who looks like the beat-up apple at the bottom of the barrel."
Sam didn't bother pressing the issue, knowing already he wouldn't get anything out of her. The more he thought about it, the more he believed he finally understood why his brother set that line between black and white so firmly in his hunter brain, blindly distinguishing right versus wrong. Not questioning the ethics of things in the shady grey world of hunting had probably saved Dean a thousand sleepless nights.
Instead he swung his legs off the side of the bed. "We need to figure out our next move."
"I know," Quinn agreed. "While you were catching up on your beauty sleep, I broke into the offices of the company that owns the van."
"You what? Alone?"
She gave him another roll of the eyes. "Yes, Dad. You were about a gallon of blood short and Jenna and Dean have been missing for over a day and a half – I couldn't wait. I got nothing anyway," she dismissed, sitting back down across from him. "So I looked more into the numbered company and TM Motors, digging up what I could online. Couldn't find squat but then your friend Ash called. I answered your phone, hope you don't mind - your buddy's a weird guy, by the way. Anyway, he'd been digging too and managed to tie both companies back to some of the same money trails and Cayman accounts. They're definitely both fronts for the same people – or demons, more likely."
"Shady demon businessmen?" Sam raised a dubious eyebrow.
"You did say they tried to blend in," she shrugged.
The wounded hunter let out a frustrated sigh. "That doesn't get us any closer to finding Dean and Jenna," he groused.
"Your pal Ash is looking into properties owned by or linked to the companies. Places they could have them stashed. Did you know Ash's IQ is over two hundred? Maybe he'll come up with something. He went to MIT."
"Yeah, I'm aware." Sam chuckled as he pushed himself up onto his feet. "I can set you two up on a date if you want."
Quinn leaned back on her hands and looked up at him as he took a moment to steady his feet under him. "Nah," she grinned. "Nerds and me don't get along."
Flashes of the thousand times Dean had called him a nerd in the past year struck Sam and he swallowed.
"See, nerds think too much," Quinn elaborated. "I tend to 'do' not 'think', remember?"
"Wow. You and my brother would get along so well."
"So you've said." She arched a brow at him. "Are you implying me and you don't, Winchester?"
"Uh no, of course not, I was..." Sam gave up his flustered denial when the look on her face made it clear she was teasing him.
Her expression quickly turned serious. "I will tell you one thing," she told him. "I hope Dean's doing a better job looking out for Jenna than I am with his little brother."
He frowned. "You just stopped me from getting nabbed by demons," he reminded her.
"Thanks for not pointing out that I almost killed you in the process." She pointed to his left side. "Don't even try to tell me that didn't happen in the crash."
Sam laid a hand gingerly over the cut and snorted. "This? This is no big deal. I've had a lot worse, trust me. Besides," he frowned, "it's not your job to look out for me. I mean, I've been hunting since I was twelve, researching even before that."
"Hmph, well that explains a lot."
"What does that mean?" he huffed defensively.
"It means you're good, Winchester. A good hunter. Don't get you panties in a twist; I'm trying to give you a compliment."
"Oh. Thanks, I guess." He turned towards the bathroom. "You are too," he added, giving her a quick smile before walking away.
"You going for a shower? Don't get that bandage wet." He could practically hear the grin plastered on her face through her next words. "And be sure to let me know if you need any help scrubbing anything."
Sam didn't bother turning back around, well aware his cheeks were turning pink. Geez, what was he – twelve? "I'll manage," he managed to answer evenly, not sure if she was still teasing or genuinely flirting. "See you in ten."
~X~X~X~X~X~
Dean was quietly scraping away at the grout around the last brick he would need to remove to fit his wide shoulders through the hole between the bathroom and the hallway, Jenna catching the loose mortar and disposing of it down the drain, the toilet or into the narrow gap under the baseboard.
"So, does it hurt?" he asked her candidly, glad she had finally dropped her defensive walls after his convincing acceptance of her 'abilities'. "When you go to Hell to get these demons?"
She shook her head. "I wouldn't say it hurts, exactly. It just takes everything out of me. I concentrate on the name to look for them but if they're deep, it's harder to find them and it's...exhausting. Draining, I guess. Hard to explain."
"How 'bout bringing them back?" he pressed, his curiosity getting the better of him. Sam was so reluctant to spill when it came to specifics of his psychic thing. Not surprisingly, he supposed, since Dean wasn't exactly the poster boy for understanding and emotional support.
She groaned. "That's a lot worse. It feels like I'm being swept up in a tornado. Like my insides are spinning around in there and I can't get a breath or concentrate on finding my way back. It's scary as hell." She chuckled. "Literally, I guess."
"What's it like when you're possessed, once you do get back?" he asked. "Is the demon in control?"
Jenna shook her head. "No, I can feel it inside but somehow I can just push them out. That one earlier was trying to get control but I just didn't let him."
"So you can't be possessed at all?" Too bad Sam didn't have that ability. Would have saved Dean from being shot in the shoulder by a Meg-possessed-brother.
"Nope," she smiled up at him as she scooped a handful of grout away. "One benefit of being a frea... " She cut herself off at Dean's disapproving glance. "Sorry, of being...unique."
He grinned back at her as he wrapped his fingers around the last brick to pull it out. "That's better."
"You've never been possessed, have you?" she asked him.
"Nope, knock on wood. Of course, they took my anti-possession charm when they stole my jacket so if they make you bring any more guests to the party, I may end up with a bunkmate in here."
Truth be told, Dean was surprised the demons hadn't used him as a meatsuit the first time around. That would by far be the easiest way to bait Sam.
"Actually, they mentioned that when they had me out there. They won't possess you. They don't want to piss off some guy called Michael."
Dean frowned at her in confusion. "Michael? I don't know any Michael. He some high-up demon?"
Jenna shrugged, backing out of the way so Dean could step out of the shower stall. "They didn't say."
There was a soft thumping sound and both of them froze to listen. Dean immediately identified it as footsteps coming down the hallway and pushed the brick back into the wall, quickly draping the towel from the showerhead to cover their planned escape route. He and Jenna had just made it back into the bedroom when their door bolt slid open and Lefty and Darksuit appeared, looking sullen and pissed off as usual.
Darksuit beckoned Jenna to come forward and Dean cursed under his breath. They just needed five more damn minutes! Jenna seemed to have found some strength and self-confidence after hearing Dean's reassuring words that she was not to blame for the nature of her abilities because she folded her arms across her chest and told the demons flatly to "Go to Hell."
Of course it didn't work because Lefty simply rolled his eyes and drew his pistol, pointing it at Dean's head.
"You shoot me and you lose your leverage," Dean spat, glancing at Jenna. "They won't do it," he assured her, his voice portraying a confidence he didn't feel at calling the demon's bluff.
Darksuit laughed. "You really think so? We shoot you and she knows we're serious. Then we go out to the closest mall and nab some innocent passerby." He smirked at the blonde girl. "You gonna refuse us then?" he challenged. "We can plug 'em one after the other until you have more deaths on your head than Hitler."
"You wouldn't!" she cried in horror.
"We're demons, dear," Darksuit pointed out. "Now stop this futile charade. We both know you're going to cooperate one way or another. Come. We have another friend downstairs for you to visit."
Jenna sighed but stepped forward, shaking her head at Dean when he moved to stop her. 'Get out' she mouthed at him, glancing towards the bathroom to make her point.
Dean gritted his teeth. He was ready to go now but if they brought Jenna back unconscious, he would have to wait another half-day or so for her to wake up again. She was telling him to make his escape while she was gone but that went against everything he stood for. He couldn't just to leave her here.
"I'll be right here when you get back," he told her, shaking his head before adding, "I'm sorry."
She huffed at him but was yanked out the door by Lefty before she could argue further. The door slammed shut and Dean kicked the wall in his frustration as the footsteps faded down the long hall.
~X~X~X~X~X~
Sam was feeling much better after his shower. He came out of the bathroom and sat down at the table to boot-up his laptop, not content to sit around and wait for Ash to call with a lead. He had found the small canvas pouch Quinn had given him in his jeans pocket and asked her about it now.
"So what's this for?"
"It's a hex bag," she explained. "It helps to hide you from demons and anything else that can search for you through supernatural avenues."
Sam was peering in the top of the bag, his nose wrinkled at the foul smell that hit him as soon as he untied it. "What's in it?"
"I don't know. A witch made them up for us - Jason, Jenna and me -a few years back. I'm hoping they don't have an expiry date." Her expression grew sad. "That was Jason's one," she told him. "So don't lose it because I don't have any spares."
Sam was thinking how advantageous it could be for him and Dean to have one of these things each, especially these days. "How'd they find Jenna then?" he asked curiously, tying the pouch back up. "I take it she had hers on her in the diner?"
Quinn nodded. "She always has it on her. She's had trouble with demons since she was fourteen. I'm guessing this Yellow-Eyes you keep harping on about has a direct line on all of you that can bypass the hex bag."
"All of us? You mean his psychic kids? What makes you say that?"
Her sad look morphed into one of confusion. "Well, aren't you thinking he gives you these visions?" she demanded. "Seems likely he's the one sending them to you. He told you he has plans for you right? And all the children like you? Well, his plans would be screwed if you were all dead. Maybe he sent you visions because he wanted you to save the kid with the asshole dad and the guy who controls minds."
"Max and Andy," Sam supplied absently, wondering if that could be the truth. Ava had received a vision that enabled her to save him from Gordon walker.
"Yeah. And maybe he wanted you to save Jenna from the runaway bike so he sent you one of her, too."
Sam was doubtful about that last one. "It could be," he admitted, "But I can't help but think there's more to it than that. The vision with Jenna felt different than the other ones. It was worse and then things didn't go down like the vision at all. The others only changed if I interfered. Same with the one about Dean - it was all wrong from the getgo. I think those two were different...manipulated..." He struggled to find the right word. "Intentional?"
"You mean they were traps set for you."
The younger hunter nodded with a sigh. "That's what I think."
There was a brief silence, both of them lost in deep thought.
It was Quinn who spoke next. "So..." she led a bit hesitantly. "Your visions come with a bit of telekinesis, huh? You forgot to mention that before."
Sam sighed, knowing the question about how he had moved that van door had to be coming at some point. "Honestly, I didn't know," he told her. "It happened once before, just once, and I don't even know how I did it. I still don't. It just sort of... happened."
"Could you do it again?"
He shook his head. "I doubt it. Not deliberately, anyway. It seems to be a bit of a desperate impulse thing."
"So no spoon-bending at the county fair?"
"Not so far."
She nodded, actually looking a bit disappointed in his answer. "What do we do now?"
Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised she was asking instead of barking out an order. He didn't want to wait for a lead from Ash that may not ever come. Dean had been in the clutches of demons who despised him for far too long. If the Winchester name alone hadn't convinced them to kill him already, Sam was sure Dean's smart mouth would goad them into it soon enough.
"We have something they want," he said simply. "Me. Time for us to set our own trap."
~X~X~X~X~X~
Dean paced back and forth in the small confines of the room that had been his home for the better part of two days. Should he wait until they brought Jenna back and then wait another day for her to recover from her ordeal enough to escape with him? It was a matter of time before the demons came into the room at some point and noticed the giant hole in the shower wall. Every hour he put off his escape, the risk of being found out grew.
But if he escaped right now, he would have to rescue Jenna from a room with four or five demons in it, at least one of them armed. And if she had already started doing her hell-transport thing, then she could already be too weak to run with him.
He kept coming back to the same conclusion. He had to wait. His nerves were doing a number on him with the decision, however, because he knew that for every hour he held off for Jenna's sake, he was leaving Sam out there alone and in danger. Hunted. Unprotected. His instincts had always steered him to help the innocent but the one basic instinct at the very core of who he was screamed at him to protect Sam above all others.
Dean knew that if something bad happened to Jenna, it would upset him, but something bad happening to Sam would completely destroy him.
But still he couldn't leave. Jenna trusted him and he had assured her he would be here waiting for her upon her return. In a weird way, abandoning her would be like abandoning Sam. The younger pair had so much in common, both thrown unwittingly and unwillingly into this demon scheme and both being ostracised by their own kind because of it. Her big brother had been a hunter and he wasn't around anymore to look out for her so somehow that responsibility fell on Dean. He also couldn't deny that Sam would want him to save Jenna first.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. He would wait.
~X~X~X~X~X~
Sam drove the Impala through the quiet night streets of Burbank, easily ignoring the continuous stream of griping from the seat next to him. Tuning out vocal displeasure was a skill he had developed in childhood, starting when Dean had hit his early teens. Now it was Quinn, complaining about the state of her car and how much she didn't like this plan.
Okay, Sam had to agree, her car was a mess. Sideswiping the much larger van had badly dented one entire side of the expensive sports car and he didn't envy the body-shop bill she was going to run up getting it fixed. He had offered to pay for it, having no idea how he would come up with that kind of money, and had earned himself a slap for the gesture. She had turned him down, griping that the money wasn't the point. He had to admit, he had enjoyed his brief turn behind the wheel of a car that wasn't older than he was and had been guiltily thinking how nice it would be to have a newer model car instead of a forty-year old classic with no power-anything. Even the cars the Winchesters stole on occasion were older models, selected intentionally to ensure they weren't equipped with GPS or alarms. Sam knew Dean loved this car but sometimes... How about one of those new Challengers or Camaros? They were still bad-ass, weren't they? He shook the thoughts from his head, feeling suddenly like he was betraying both Dean and the only real home he'd ever known by the mere notion of changing rides.
As for their plan, Quinn had argued adamantly against it for half an hour before eventually conceding after he pointed out it was Jenna's last chance. He assured her he was willing to take the risk to himself if it meant saving Dean and Jenna and that it wasn't Quinn's place to keep him safe, that Jenna was her only responsibility.
Things went according to plan, more or less. They went back to the office building during the night and broke back in to set traps, such as salt lines and hidden Devil's Traps. Come morning, they showed up one more time as federal agents, harassing the lone receptionist until she reported it to someone higher up the chain of command. Eventually, word must have made its way to a demon somewhere up the line for three of them showed up, not wasting any time in lunging for the hunters in the front room. Their attempts to bring Sam in, however, were thwarted by the numerous traps and within minutes, two were exorcised and one was tied to a chair under a large Devil's Trap painted on the topside of the ceiling tiles, scowling at the two hunters while the receptionist sobbed and whimpered in the back room they had locked her in.
That's when things got difficult. The demon wasn't talking. Instead it spent the better part of an hour laughing and taunting them between shouts of pain as they splashed it with holy water and poured salt into its mouth.
Quinn had just finished forcing an entire flask of holy water down its throat when it finally caved. "Bitch!" it sputtered, tears streaming down its face and its eyes black as coal. "Alright! No More! I'll tell you. I'll tell you but you won't like it."
"Where are Dean and Jenna?" Sam demanded coolly for the hundredth time, trying to hold onto his patience because it was obvious Quinn had already run out of hers.
"Your brother's being held as bait," the demon panted. "They'll trade him for you if you turn yourself in."
"Not gonna happen," Quinn snapped, punching the demon in the face in her mounting anger.
Sam wasn't so sure but he didn't let on that he would be willing to consider that option - not yet. "Where?"
The demon grunted. "Montecito."
Quinn made a show of refilling her flask in front of the demon. "Montecito's a big place," she said slowly. "You're gonna have to narrow it down a little."
"I don't know exactly," he spat back. "Some big house."
"They're all big houses over there!" Quinn fired back. "Half of the big money in California has a summer home there. I want an address!"
The demon started laughing again. "What are you getting so worked up about anyway?" he taunted her. "Dean's there but you're too late for the other one, the girl. She's dead."
Sam saw Quinn's face pale but she pulled herself together quickly and threw another punch, her knuckles swollen and bruised by this point. "You lie," she seethed.
Their captive straightened up in his chair, clearly enjoying himself now that he had hit a nerve. "What reason would I have to lie about that?" he goaded. "I already told you where the Winchester nuisance was. See, my boss still wants Sammy here so, big brother Dean will keep breathing. Blondie, on the other hand, already outlived her usefulness."
"You wanted her too," Quinn argued, her composure clearly starting to fray. "You were after her too."
The demon grinned viciously. "Well, don't get me wrong," he snickered. "We all had our fun with her before we snapped her neck."
Sam decided this interview wasn't going to get any better for his partner now that the demon had found a button to push and immediately started reciting a Latin exorcism. The demon began sputtering and choking and as soon as the black smoke dissipated into the ceiling, Sam turned to face Quinn. "He was lying," he assured her quickly.
She swallowed and gave him a quick nod before taking a step forward and pressing her fingers against the neck of the man sitting slumped in the chair. "He's alive," she said, her voice raspy. "We'll call 9-1-1 as soon as we hit the road."
They were packed and gone in thirty seconds but the car was tensely quiet as Sam weaved through the busy streets. He kept glancing worriedly over at Quinn. He could only imagine how he would feel if the demon had said Dean was dead instead of Jenna. "She's one of the psychic kids," he said finally. "I'm sure she's still alive. Demons lie."
He just got a stiff nod in response and she pointed to the Ventura Freeway West sign that led to Montecito.
"You still with me?" he pressed, concerned. Usually she wasn't this quiet.
"Course," she answered finally, straightening in her seat. "And if... if it turns out Jenna's gone don't worry, I'll still help you find Dean."
"Quinn..."
"I know," she cut him off. "Demon's lie." She leaned over and pulled Sam's phone from his pocket. "I'm gonna call your nerd-pal and see if he can find any link to Montecito. We need a more specific address."
~X~X~X~X~X~
Jenna was brought back less than twenty minutes later and much to Dean's surprise, she was still awake. Weak and exhausted, but still on her feet. As soon as Keanu and Redhead shoved her through the doorway, Dean was at her side, guiding her over to the cot.
She sank down onto it but just shook her head and averted her eyes when Dean asked what happened, leading him to assume she had been forced to bring another demon out of Hell. He remembered Darksuit saying that it would get easier for Jenna every time, but was unnerved at how much better she had handled this one; it was only the second. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, he made her eat some of the leftover fried chicken from supper so she could get her strength back and they could head out before dawn.
An hour later she insisted she was ready to get going. Dean didn't argue because things were quiet in the house and it would still be dark outside. She pulled her leather jacket back on and he shimmied the loose bricks out of the hole before using the sharpened edge of his spoon to cut through the drywall into the hallway. It was dimly lit and empty, with no signs of demons. Dean and Jenna dragged themselves through the hole with as little grunting as possible and finally found themselves free on the other side.
Jenna immediately pressed her ear to the door across the hall from theirs, eliciting an urgent hiss from Dean.
"Let's move," he whispered, gripping her by the elbow and starting up the hallway.
"Wait, Dean," she gasped, giving him an incredulous look. "There's gotta be others. We can't just leave them here."
He shook his head. "That could be Reagan in there!" he reminded her in a hushed voice. "She's working with them. She'll turn us in for sure."
"But it could be someone else," she insisted, reaching for the dead bolt latch but pausing to look at him before sliding it. "Please. There are four rooms. They could be innocent. They're just like me. Like Sam."
She had him at 'innocent' but the 'Sam' remark had Dean nodding his whole-hearted approval. If it was Reagan, he'd have no problem throwing a punch to keep her quiet. He held his breath while Jenna slid the bolt loose and swung the door open.
The room was dark but the light from the hallway fell on the shape of a person under the blanket in the single cot along the far wall. The form rolled over and a face appeared, blinking at them in confusion.
The person sat up, swinging their feet off the side of the cot and Dean could see it was a boy, a teenager, maybe seventeen or eighteen. He looked scared. "Wha…?"
"Shhh," Dean said, pressing his finger to his lips as he stepped into the room. "We're not demons," he said quietly, raising a hand in a gesture of innocence. "We're escaping. You comin?"
The boy nodded and jumped up, scrambling for his sneakers. "Yeah, yeah," he whispered excitedly. "Of course. I'm in, I'm in."
"Okay," Dean nodded. "Listen up. There's one rule. You do exactly what I say. Got it?"
The boy nodded hastily. "I'm Tyler," he said with a wide, toothy grin.
Dean couldn't help but smile back at him. "Dean."
"I'm Jenna," the blonde added, resting a hand on the kid's shoulder in friendly greeting and beaming back at Dean.
Dean just rolled his eyes and moved back out into the hallway. "Let's see what's behind door number three," he mumbled.
The next room was fully lit and the pretty brunette Reagan was sitting on her bed reading. She gasped and jumped up when she saw Dean at the door but he reacted quickly, shoving her up against the wall with his hand clamped over her mouth.
"You traitorous bitch," he growled at her. "You sold out my brother."
She looked terrified, her eyes wide and wild as she stared at the angry hunter who had her pinned.
"Where's Sam?" he demanded. "Did they get him?"
She shook her head and mumbled something into his hand.
Dean curled a lip but began to slowly relieve the pressure of his hand. "Don't you make a fucking sound," he warned.
"No! Don't!" Tyler hissed, pushing Dean's hand back over Reagan's mouth. "She plans on screaming."
"What? How do you know?" the hunter demanded.
"I can read minds," the kid answered with a shrug of his shoulders.
Dean stared at him for a second as the information sank in but quickly turned back to Reagan. "Does she know if my brother's okay?" he asked, speaking to Tyler.
Tyler reached back up to touch Reagan's arm again. "I have to touch the person to read them," he explained to Dean. "Umm, no, she doesn't know about your brother. She knows he escaped the trap from the fake vision. She's scared you're going to kill her."
Dean gritted his teeth. "Trust me, I'm tempted."
"Dean," Jenna said from behind him, placing a hand on his bicep. "We can't."
"I know," he assured her. "But she can't come with us."
"No," Tyler chimed in. "She doesn't want to leave. She wants to get stronger, with her talent, and the demons promised her they would show her how. And whoa! Ewww. Dude, she's sleeping with the one called Cole."
Dean felt his skin crawl. "Cole?"
"The one in the suit," Tyler supplied.
Dean glanced around the room. There was a dresser, a television, a mirror and make-up, and the brunette in his grasp had iPod buds hanging around her neck. Fucking bitch was shacking up with demons. He pulled her head forward and cracked it back against the wall, letting her go as she slumped down to the floor.
Tyler gasped and Dean ushered him and Jenna out of the room. "Don't worry," he assured them. "Trick of the trade. She'll wake up with a headache, that's all." He looked down at Tyler as they headed across the hall to the last of the metal doors. "Kid, word to the wise. You stay outta my head, you hear?"
Tyler grinned back up at him. "Yes, sir."
Dean pulled the dead bolt free with nothing more than a slight click and swung the door open. Like Tyler's, the room was dark. Dean could make out a form in the bed, presumably sleeping and stepped quickly up to it, leaning down and tapping a shoulder gently.
He could make out long hair and his guess that it was a girl was proven right when she turned around to face him, jerking in fright. He was startled, however, by a sharp cry from the bottom of the bed. A second girl, who had been lying upside down shot up, staring wild-eyed at him.
"Shhhh," Dean hushed quickly, putting his finger to his lips. "We're not demons," he told them, hoping for the same quick acceptance he had received from Tyler. He suddenly had a strong urge to say 'I'm Luke Skywalker. I'm here to rescue you' but curbed the words before they slipped out. Instead he cursed teenage Sam's Star Wars obsession and went with "We'll get you out of here but you have to be quiet."
Jenna had pushed the door almost closed at the sound of the girl's cry and now she flicked the wall lamp on. "I'm one of you," she said quietly. "We're all getting out of here. Quick, get dressed."
The girl at the top of the bed was sitting up hugging her knees, blinking in the light as she stared in turn at Dean, Jenna, and Tyler. The one at the bottom, however, was already on her feet, grabbing for a pair of jeans folded on the floor.
"What are your names?" Jenna whispered.
The one standing answered. "I'm Caitlyn and this is Chelsea."
Dean turned to Chelsea, the one on the bed. "You coming?"
She shook her head.
Dean was shocked. "What? You can't stay here!" he exclaimed, his voice a harsh whisper. He reached forward to urge her up. "Come on. I can get you out of here. You can trust us."
She shook her head again and backed away from him. "No," she whimpered. "No, I'm staying here."
"Chelsea, don't be stupid," Caitlyn scolded. "You can't stay here. They're fucking demons."
"I'm staying," she said. "They're not so bad. They don't hit… Every time I run away, I end up somewhere worse. I'm staying here."
Dean let Caitlyn try to argue with the girl but she made no progress and they were running out of time. Reagan would be waking up soon and a demon could show up at any moment.
"We have to go," he said finally, exasperated. How did his quiet getaway with Jenna suddenly turn into The Great Escape? "Chelsea, I promise you, I'll get you outta here safely, okay?" he said, giving it one last ditch effort. "I won't let anything happen to you. Any of you. Please, just get your shoes on."
"No. I'm staying. I won't tell, but I'm staying here."
Dean stood up. He felt bad but she was clearly terrified and forcing her to come with them would only put them all in danger. "Alright, we have to go," he said to the others. Jenna nodded but Chelsea looked torn. "I'll come back for her when I have some help," he appeased.
Jenna turned the light back off and pulled the door open again. Dean stuck his head out and peered down the hallway. Things were still quiet. "Okay," he beckoned to the three behind him. "Let's get the Hell out of here."
~X~X~X~X~X~
A/N: Anyone remember Chelsea from the first chapter? Yup, that's her. Things get a little crazy for the gang next chap, with Sam and Quinn on their way and Dean and company on their way out... Sorry this chap didn't have much action, I plan on making up for it in the next chap.