Before: As time passed, Jo started shivering more violently. Dean felt himself start to shiver too, and pulled her closer for warmth.
"You know, taking your clothes off is supposed to keep you warmer. Skin-to-skin contact," Dean teased Jo softly, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, keep dreaming, big boy," Jo answered, giving him a light shove.
"What? It's survival 101."
"Right. So you figure out how to take your shirt off over your bound hands and I'll…" her snarky reply was cut short at the sound of footsteps at the door above them.
Chapter Five
Slowly the metal hatch swung open, and someone started climbing down the ladder. As soon as his head was clear of the opening, another set of feet appeared, then another. Quickly the newcomers climbed down, closing the hatch behind them. Two males and a female stood before them, the men large and looming and the woman tall and athletically built.
They were the bitches from the alley that Dean had already decided were going to die a slow and painful death.
"Well, well, well," the female drawled, "isn't that sweet? The two love birds keeping each other warm."
"Who are you?" Dean demanded furiously, pulling his bound back from around Jo's shoulders.
"Don't you remember me, Dean sweetie? I'm hurt. After all we've been through…" the woman stuck out her lower lip in imitation of a pout.
Shit Dean thought, trying frantically to figure out how he knew her. Women tend to get pissy when you don't remember them.
"I mean, the last time we met, you and your brother sent me to Hell, sweetie." Dean froze as the woman's eyes flickered black for a moment before switching back to their normal blue color.
Shit! The woman was possessed by a pissed-off demon.A pissed-off demon whom he had helped send into the pits of hell."What do you want?"
"Oh, all in good time, sweetie. We don't want to rush things. We've got to give ourselves time to get reacquainted, after all." The woman nodded to the men behind her, and they started moving towards Dean and Jo.
Dean noticed the blood-soaked bandage on the arm of the man approaching him and awkwardly aimed a two-handed punch at the wound. He wasn't used to fighting with bound wrists, however. His punch was off, and the man caught him off-guard with a left hook in the gut. He doubled over and the man's fist connected with his torso several more times before Dean felt himself being lifted off the ground. He had only a few seconds to register what was happening before pain shot through his shoulders. Looking up, he saw he was hanging from the ceiling by his tied wrists from one of the hooks, his weight supported by his shoulders, his feet barely touching the ground.
A low grunt from beside him told him that Jo had done slightly better than he had. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the other man holding his crotch. Apparently she had kicked him in the jewels.
Jo didn't last much longer than that, however. The one who had manhandled Dean came up behind her and punched her hard in the side, throwing her off balance. He grabbed her tied wrists and lifted her onto one of the hooks beside Dean, his wounded arm not hindering him at all. Jo gasped as her arms were twisted awkwardly behind her back, and Dean heard a soft pop as her left shoulder came out of its socket.
"There," the demon said, "I think we can talk properly now, don't you?"
"What do you want, you bitch?" Dean asked again, enraged that those brutes had hurt Jo.
Dean grunted as one of the men, the one with the bullet wound, landed a fist firmly in his gut. "Language, Dean," the woman teased. "We're all reasonable adults here, no need for profanity."
"Reasonable adults? All I see is two hunters hanging from hooks talking to a crazy-ass demon and two butt-ugly thugs." Dean was ready for the series of punches this time, and managed to suppress a groan. Those fists were going to leave some nasty bruises.
"Now, now, sweetie, remember you manners. Or did your mommy and daddy fail to teach you that? Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot. Your mommy died before she got the chance, and your daddy was too much of an asshole to know any better."
Dean glared at her. No one insults his family and gets away with it. This bitch is just begging to die a painful death. The mention of his father jogged something in his memory, however. Dean silently kicked himself for not remembering it earlier.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…" the demon jolted as Dean began to recite the exorcism.
"Stop him!" She gasped in pain, motioning urgently to the two grunts.
Bullet-Wound clamped his hand firmly over Dean's mouth while the other grunt pounded his fist into his side. Just as well, I don't remember the rest anyway Dean thought bitterly. But that wasn't what he aimed to accomplish with his little stunt.
Dean smiled inwardly as he heard Jo quietly pick up the rest of the exorcism. He had hoped she knew the rest and would take the hint from him and continue it.
"Her too! Stop her!" the woman groaned, doubled over as she tried to stay inside her meat suit.
Dean's heart sank as the man attempting to pulverize his torso stopped and moved over to Jo. He had hoped she would have enough time to finish the exorcism. Dean heard a loud smack as the grunt slapped her across the face then clamped his hand down over her mouth. Jo struggled uselessly against his strong hand, trying to get free.
"You're right, sweetie, these really aren't the best circumstances for us to have a reasonable conversation, is it?" the demon growled. Dean looked at her in surprise. Was she going to let them go?
"Martin, get the girl down. Take her someplace else so Dean and I can have a nice little chit-chat all by ourselves, all right?" the woman said to one of the grunts, the sarcastic sweetness back in her voice.
"Oh, and you need only keep her alive. Other than that, you can have your way with her," the demon added with a sick smile. Dean didn't like the sound of that.
"Stay away from her, you bitch!" Dean yelled, the words muffled by Bullet-Wound's meaty hand. The grunt near Jo, Martin, smiled viciously.
Jo squirmed desperately on the hook, but couldn't do much with her dislocated shoulder. As Martin reached up to take her down, she bit down on his bicep, drawing blood. Martin took a step back, cursing, clasping a hand to his arm. He slapped Jo hard across the face, then lifted his hand to look at the bite. He cursed again and angrily drew something from his pocket. A syringe like the ones from the alley.
At the sight of the drug, Jo struggled even harder, but to no avail. Martin stabbed the needle into the side of her neck, and moments later Jo's movements slowed as she slipped into unconsciousness. Martin roughly got her off the hook, being a little too touchy for Dean's taste.
"Don't touch her, you asshole!" Dean yelled, only to be greeted with more blows. He grunted as he felt one of his ribs crack with a particularly well-placed punch.
"Do quiet down, sweetie. You're only making it worse for yourself," the demon told Dean with faked concern.
Martin swung Jo over his shoulder and climbed out of the room, barely hindered by Jo's dead weight. Bullet-Wound looked at the demon and, when she gave him a curt nod, followed quickly after Martin. Dean watched the woman suspiciously as they were left alone, but she didn't move towards him.
After several moments of silent waiting, the demon shivered slightly and adjusted her thick winter coat on her shoulders. "Cold, isn't it?" she asked mockingly.
The hatch opened suddenly and the demon walked over to it. Something was handed down to her, something flat and silver. It was a tray with several things that Dean couldn't quite make out on it. The demon dragged the chair from the corner of the room and sat it in front of Dean. Smiling at him, she carefully laid the tray on the seat. She then went back to the opening and acquired several large jugs that were being lowered down from above. Bullet-Wound climbed down soon after.
Dread filled Dean as he looked at the contents of the tray. It contained knives of varying sizes, several spikes, what looked like a cat-o'-nines, and other things Dean couldn't quite make out. But their purpose was clear. They were instruments of torture.
He had a feeling this was going to be a rather painful "little chit-chat."
A/N: So hopefully you guys are liking it so far. It might be a day or two before I get the next chapter up, but I'll get it up as soon as I can. It'd be awesome if you could tell me what you think so far! If you like it, if you don't (hopefully not that), what I need to fix, if it's making sense, is everyone acting in character, etc., because, damnit Jim! I'm an engineer, not a writer, and I need all the help I can get! Thanks for reading!