Sam woke up, tied to a table. He strained against the ropes, but Adam and--- his mother?--- were standing over him.
"Dude, she's not your mom--- she's a friggin ghoul!" Sam yelled. "Help me!"
"You know, I always thought ghoul was such a racist term." he said, looking at him solemnly, and then cut a slice out of his arm. "See, we take the form of the last person we munch on."
"So, there never was a---"
"Oh, there was." the female ghoul smirked at him. "And, the hillarious bit? He was your little brother! But, this guy, is my little brother, actually. And, your Dad killed our Dad."
Sam bucked against the ropes. "Where's Alex and Dean?!"
"Oh, little pretty? See... there's somethin' you don't know about ghouls..."
"Other than the fact that you're filthy scavangers?" Sam spat sarcastically.
But, Adam backhanded him hard for it. "No, Mr. Smarty pants... we don't reproduce the same way others do. See, our females are barren. All of 'em. It's kind of like how you make a donkey with a mule and a horse--- or is it a mule with a horse and a donkey?" he mused, scratching his head.
His sister slapped the back of his head. "Moron. Mmm, Sam... your blood tastes special... different, I like it... Anyway, as 'Adam' was saying," she continued, using air-quotes for his name, "We need a pod. A human pod. Did you ever watch the movie Alien?"
Sam looked at her in horror.
"Remember the dinner table scene, where the alien burst out of that dude's abdomen? It's kinda like that. That's how we're born. We kind of incubate for 24 hours, feeding off of the mother... then we eat our way out. But, conception? It's basically the same as for you disgusting humans."
Sam pulled roughly against the ropes, despite the pain he was in, which was increasing as they slowly cut him, peeling off bits of skin as though they were at some kind of cannibal buffet.
"You touch my baby sister and I'll fucking rip your heads off!" Sam bellowed.
The table actually made a creaky noise and a small, splintering crack appeared, but, the heavy oak was not yet to be broken.
"Holy shit, I shouldda gave him more drugs..." Adam murmured in awe.
"Oh, just leave him to me." his sister ghoul said, her face now covered in blood. "Just... go do what you have to do with the female. We do have to keep our race up." she said to Sam, as though she were talking about something as casual as drinking a glass of juice.
Sam pulled harder, but, the drugs and loss of blood still weakened him, and the ropes kept him in place. Suddenly, the door burst open, and Sam heard two shots. He managed to look up, and Dean had blown both of their heads off, and was racing towards him to cut his ropes with a knife.
Concerned green eyes were searching him, assessing. "Dude, sit still..." he said, his voice oddly gentle.
"N-no... Alex... gotta find Alex..." Sam said, pushing weakly against Dean's hands.
"Damnit, stay there!" Dean ordered. "I'll go get her!"
Dean raced towards the back of the house, and heard a light but steady clinking noise. When he opened the door, Alex was there, duct-taped to the brass headboard, tape on her mouth, wrists, and ankles. He rushed to her, kneeling down.
"Oh, babe..." he sighed. "This is gonna hurt, okay?" he apologized in advance, and ripped the tape off.
But, true to her Winchester raising, she barely made a muffled yelp. It was enough, however, that Sam heard it from the den and pulled himself up.
"Sorry, Cupcake." Dean sighed, cutting the tape off of her ankles and wrists.
"I'm okay." Alex said, wincing slightly as Dean gently touched the slight bruise on her jaw.
"Alex?" Sam asked a bit frantically, limping into the room.
"Dude, I told you to sit down!" Dean said, frustrated, and led him to the bed, too. "See, she's fine."
"Did he... I mean, did he..."
Sam wanted to ask, but, the question just wasn't coming past the bile in his throat.
"No, Sam. I'm okay; he just duct-taped me to a bed. It's embarrassing, but, not that traumatic."
Sam breathed a sigh of relief.
"We have to get him to a hospital..."
"Perhaps I can be of service." A voice said suddenly, and there was Castiel, standing in the room.
"Dude, where the hell were you an hour ago?! That's when you fucking could've 'been of service'!"
"It is not my job to sit on your shoulder, Dean Winchester! I have my assignments!" Castiel said in his big scary angel voice.
But, Dean was not in the least put off. He'd lived with John Winchester for 26 years, inventor of the 'big scary voice'.
"Okay, whatever--- can you fix him?"
Castiel nodded, laying two fingers to Sam's forehead...