Chapter Thirteen

Dean hung limp from the ceiling, supported only by his arms and a rope around his neck. His chest was exposed, revealing a plethora of lacerations running along it, some of them deep, almost all of them dripping red. There was a large gash across his thigh and a black collar encircled his throat. A large, painful looking puncture wound above his left hip was still oozing blood. His right side was red and raw, as if it had been burned, and a knife protruded from his right shoulder. What little of him wasn't covered by blood showed deep, painful bruises. And those were just the injuries Jo could see from a distance. She didn't want to think about what other horrors he had suffered. Dean was pale from blood loss, and his lips were tinted a pale blue from the early stages of hypothermia. He continued to groan as he hung, shivers racking his broken body.

"Oh, Dean," Jo let out in a small whisper. She rushed over to his barely-conscious form.

"Hey Dean. Hey. It's me. It's Jo" Jo said, gently holding his tear-stained face in her hands. He moaned softly, and slowly opened his eyes to look at her.

"Hey, I'm here. You're going to be ok." Dean's eyes filled with relief as he focused on her.

"Jo?" he croaked. Between the pain, exhaustion, hunger, cold, and slow strangulation, it was difficult for him to speak.

"Yeah, it's me. It's ok now. I'm going to take this dagger out of your shoulder, ok Dean? This might hurt a little." Dean moaned in response.

Carefully gripping the hilt of the knife, Jo slowly pulled it out, trying to make it as painless as possible. Even with her careful handling, however, the movement still elicited some gasps of pain from Dean.

"Sorry," she apologized as he groaned even louder as the blade finally slid free. He was panting a little harder than before from the added pain.

"I'm going to get that rope off you now, ok?" Jo started sawing on the rope. As she worked, she could hear the demon yelling profanities at them.

Finally, the rope snapped. Dean took in deep, pained breaths as his ability to breathe was fully returned to him. "Thanks," he panted.

"Don't thank me yet. We've yet to reach the home stretch."

She examined the hook Dean was suspended from. There was no way to lower the hook, and she certainly wasn't going to be able to lift him off it, not with her injured shoulder. She looked around the room, noticing the chair acting as a table for the first time. She pushed the tray with its multitude of instruments off the seat, trying not to look too closely at its contents, and dragged the chair closer to Dean. Standing up on it, she quickly snapped the zip-ties with the knife. They both gasped as Dean fell forward onto Jo, Dean because of the pain in his, well, everything, and Jo because of the bite of the acid that rubbed off of Dean and onto her.

Carefully, they slumped over to the wall, Jo supporting most of their weight. Jo cringed as she noticed the welts and cuts decorating his back. That demon was going to pay.

Slowly, Jo lowered him down to the floor in a sitting position and examined him more closely, looking for any injuries that needed immediate care. They needed to get out of here, but she couldn't have Dean collapsing halfway there, either. Besides, she figured the demon trap had bought them a few moments to recover.

Jo carefully inspected his wounds. Several of the cuts on Dean's chest would need stitches, as would the stab wounds above his hip and on either side of his right shoulder. Jo grimaced when she noticed his broken rib, broken, arm, and punctured hand. That demon was definitely going to pay.

Jo walked over to examine the silver tray she had knocked over. It might have something that could help her treat the multitude of injuries Dean sported.

She felt sick as she looked at the variety of torture devices the tray displayed, most of them coated in Dean's blood. All of these instruments could only inflict injuries, not heal them. Jo was about to go back to Dean with nothing when she noticed the jugs on the floor. Picking one, up, she sniffed it. It smelled like water. She took a tentative sip, and was happy to find that it was. She took a few more swigs then carried the jug back over to Dean.

"Dean. Wake up. Don't go to sleep." Jo said urgently. Slowly, Dean opened his eyes and blinked at her.

"Here have some water," Jo helped hold the jug up to his mouth, and he took several slow, pained gulps before pushing it away. He leaned his head back, his eyes closed and his face contorted in pain.

"You've got to stay awake, Dean."

"M-know. Jus' res'in'" Dean's speech was slurred with pain, but he opened his eyes again.

"I'm going to try to wash off the acid. This is going to be cold." Dean nodded, bracing himself.

Jo tipped the icy water over the burns. Dean hissed as the cold liquid splashed over him, but relaxed as the burning receded. Jo used half the jug trying to rinse off the acid. It would need a more thorough bath later, but it was better than nothing.

"Better?"

"Mmm" Dean sighed deeply, then winced as the breath aggravated his broken rib.

Jo quickly used a small bit of water to rinse off the acid that had rubbed off on her, then set it aside. Hopefully they wouldn't be here long enough to need the water, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Jo continued to inspect Dean's other injuries, but stopped when he put a hand weakly on her arm.

"'Kay?"

"I'm fine, Dean. You're the one who needs help." He didn't release the slight pressure on her arm.

"Hur'?"

"No, I'm fine."

"They…di' they…" the worry in Dean's voice was obvious, even through the pain.

"No, Dean. They tried to rape me, but I escaped," Jo told him, guessing what he was thinking "I'm ok, really." Dean released the pressure on her arm.

"I –GAH!" Dean's body suddenly seized up and he started convulsing violently.

"Dean, what is it?" Jo asked desperately, not knowing what to do. Suddenly she remembered the black collar still around his neck. Putting two and two together, she tried to undo the latch, but Dean was convulsing too much. She couldn't get it off.

Dean suddenly relaxed again, panting heavily. The electrocution had stopped, at least for now. Jo quickly moved to remove the shock collar, but before she could get it off Dean seized up again, convulsing more violently than before. Dean's face was contorted in pain, a scream escaping his lips.

"I'm going to keep increasing the voltage, sweetheart, until I get out of this trap. Unless you want it to reach a lethal level, I suggest you let me out." The demon's voice echoed from above.

There was no way in hell that Jo was going to let that bitch out, but she wasn't going to let Dean be fried either. She climbed on top of him, pinning him under her body. She scrambled to get a hold of the collar, but it was no use. He kept jerking out of her grip.

"Hold still, damn it!"

Again, Dean relaxed, and Jo immediately started undoing the collar. She was only halfway through when he suddenly convulsed again, almost throwing her off. He let out a choked scream; the voltage was getting to a dangerous level.

Seeing no other option, Jo grabbed a knife from the tray. She didn't want to cut the collar for fear of cutting Dean, so instead she rammed the butt of the knife into the shock box on the collar. Again and again she hit it, wincing when she missed and hit Dean's throat instead. Finally, the shock box sparked and smoked, and Dean went limp.

Jo immediately finished removing the collar, throwing it into a corner of the room. Dean was breathing heavily, tears streaming down his face. Jo had a suspicion that his trembling wasn't only from the cold now.

The demon let out an irritated cry. "You bitch! Let me out!"

Jo ignored her, turning her attention back to Dean. "It's ok, Dean. She won't hurt you again." She tried to reassure him, pulling him into a hug.

Dean suddenly lurched to the side, throwing up the little water she had just given him. He continued to dry-heave for several moments before finally collapsing. Jo put a hand comfortingly on his back.

It took Jo several moments to realize Dean was trying to say something through his strained breaths. "Gun?" Dean struggled to gasp out. Even weak as he was, his hunter instincts were still on par.

"The gun? What gu-" Jo was cut off by the sound of one, two, three gunshots.

Jo looked at Dean, confused. They hadn't heard anyone come into the empty barn, so what was she shooting at?

Jo's look of bewilderment changed to sudden horror as she realized what had happened. The demon had shot the floor, ruining the engraved trap.

The demon was free.