Chapter 2
Lily wondered if it was possible for someone to die from fear. If not, she would be the first. Panic gripped her heart tighter than Dean's hand on her neck, and she was trembling uncontrollably.
The warehouse was empty.
Dean threw her onto the floor in front of him with a curse. She landed heavily, unable to catch herself because her hands were tied, and stayed down, physically and mentally exhausted. The journey to the warehouse had been nerve-wracking. Dean hadn't trusted her alone in the back of his car, even trussed up, and sat with her, his knife at her throat the whole time, making tiny cuts for every jostle and pothole in the road, while he yelled at Sam to drive better. Dean circled her now, like a barely-contained bull, a thunderous expression on his face as he ripped off his tie.
"Dean."
"No Sam. Now we do it my way"
Without warning his foot connected with her gut and the wind rushed out of her, taking a cry of pain with it. She was more than familiar with this song and dance, and braced herself for more. Instead, Dean pulled his hair through his hands, took a breath, and crouched next to her, gripping her neck and tilting her face so she was looking at him.
"Where is Rowena."
"I don't know!" Lily choked. "She was here this morning, I promise! She was mad because she had no black cat bones and she sent me out and then I met you guys and, and-" she gulped for air, "-now everything is...she's gone."
"Gone where." Dean's grip tightened.
"I don't know! I promise!"
"Where is the Codex."
"Where is what?" This earned her a backhand.
"Dean!"
"No please I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know what's going on!" She was on the verge of blubbering and took a breath, trying to calm herself down. "Rowena never told me about her projects. I was beaten if I even asked questions I promise!"
Dean was pulled to his feet by Sam and they conferred in a corner while Lily curled into a tighter ball and contemplated her miserable existence. At least it was almost over. She closed her eyes, feeling darkness push at the edges of her vision, threatening to pull her into a sea of unconsciousness.
Dean walked back over to her and turned her head towards him with his foot.
"You and I are gonna go have a little chat," he said. And then all around her was sweet and peaceful black.
Dean bent over her to check she was unconscious and then slung her over his shoulder.
"Search the warehouse. Maybe Rowena left a clue."
"Dude, you need to chill out. She's just a kid. I mean look at her she's a waif."
"She's a witch Sam. I don't buy the innocent look. Rowena doesn't look like much of a threat either but, she's tried to kill us both multiple times. I'm not taking any chances." Dean kicked in a side door, peering through the darkness in search of something useful or incriminating.
"Dean, she's human! You slapped her across the face. You kicked her! Can we calm down on the bad cop routine? I mean-" Sam was brought up short by a small closet. A tatter of blankets lay on the floor, and a few dried flowers and faded drawings decorated the walls. The brothers shared a look and Dean cleared his throat.
"She's a witch, Sam. She's working with the she-devil. Guilty until proven innocent if you ask me." Dean turned on his heel and walked out towards the car. Sam lingered for a moment, his eyes taking in the details of the tiny room, before he followed. Outside, Dean dumped Lily's unconscious form on the backseat and slid behind the wheel, slamming the door of the Impala. Sam followed. There was a pause, and Dean added; "And we don't even know how much of her is even still human."
With that, he started the car and peeled out of the crumbling lot of the warehouse. Sam stayed quiet for the rest of the ride, letting the topic drop until they got home. Dean carried Lily into the makeshift dungeon, letting her body drop unceremoniously to the floor in the middle of multiple painted runes and wards. They both looked down at her unconscious form for a moment, studying their captive. She really was small, Dean thought, agreeing with Sam's earlier comment. Her skin was so pale white it was almost translucent, punctuated by a scar here and a bruise there, and smudged all over with dirt. It was made all the more stark a color when contrasted with her night-dark hair, plastered across her forehead because of the rain. Her lips were raw and red, as if she worried them between her teeth often. There were deep bags under her eyes and a red welt rising on the corner of her forehead from where Dean had knocked her out. Dean shoved the thoughts of her small form curled up in the closet that had come to him unbidden, shook himself from his reverie and set to work.
"Hand me those iron chains there, Sammy?" Sam obliged, looking pensive.
"Dean, I think we need to be united on this. Look, I'm not saying she's not evil, and if she's as bad as Rowena you can lock her in a hole for a thousand years for all I care, but we need to make sure. We're the good guys, remember? We don't go around torturing little girls without reason." Dean grunted a noncommittal reply as he locked the cuffs on the little witch, frowning at the space between the bonds and her wrists. He stood, and the brothers regarded each other silently for a moment. Finally, Dean shrugged, cracking a half smile.
"Whatever you say, Sammy. What do you say we find a beer or five until the witch wakes up." Sam rolled his eyes and the brothers clicked the door shut quietly behind them, reconciled.