HUNTED

As the darkness finally released its hold on him, something else emerged, casting a shadow over him as it filled his entire field of vision. It was a face he more than recognized. It was the face of a man he now wished he had killed six weeks ago when he'd had the chance. Hell, why hadn't he? Sam was the one with the bleeding heart – not him. Especially not as of late.

Only seconds of consciousness and a blind rage was already igniting in his heart. There were no questions to ask, no bad guy monologues to be held. He knew what they wanted and why he was there and it didn't just bother him, it really pissed him off. The rage grew and his muscles tensed in anticipation of the one punch he was longing to throw. He'd picked the spot on the man's jaw and everything. But pain coursed through his body, and bindings were his other enemy as he realized his hands were bound tightly behind his back. He growled and the man laughed softly at him. Other men's more hesitant laughs echoed the first and he wondered vaguely how many they were.

Gordon, yeah the bastard himself, grabbed him by the shoulders and hoisted him to a sitting position. He resisted the urge to kick him in the balls - it just wouldn't be a clever move since he was tied up and already on his ass on the floor. And not to mention; outnumbered. Instead he waited. Gordon seemed unfazed by the entire situation, roles reversed and all, and didn't even look at him as he forced him to his feet. A swift kick, a shove and a push would've done the trick had they been alone but with the others there he'd need more of a plan than that to get away.

He glared at the others, a girl, and two men; part dicks, part assholes, as Gordon dragged him towards the chair in the center of the room. Just perfect. Center spot to top off the humiliation. His hands curled into fists behind his back at the mere thought of how pitiful he must look. To hell with waiting! He kicked out hard and fast, aiming for the older hunter's knee cap. That oughtta break something! And hopefully not just pride. He caught him off-guard and Gordon went down with a surprised cry. But his hand was still fisted in his prisoner's shirt and they both fell headlong to the tiled floor. They groaned in unison as bones crashed into unforgiving stone.

The impact knocked the wind out of him and he gasped, his seemingly deflated lungs and the gag tied over his mouth making it hard for him to draw a breath. The feeling of being choked was way too familiar and although he knew he'd eventually draw that longed for breath, it was still an unpleasant experience. Finally he managed to suck in enough air to stop the burning in his lungs and he coughed. But before his reeling mind could register any relief a boot connected with the side of his face and his head smacked into the floor again. He felt himself being turned over and grabbed at before the cloak of darkness surrounded him again.

- o -

She watched in silence as they pulled him up, Gordon cursing at the pain in his leg, and more or less carried their prisoner to the chair. Once he was on the chair her dad untied his hands. She watched Gordon, Jackass the vampire slayer, as her dad called him, take the ropes from her father to tie their unconscious prisoner's hands to the armrests and his ankles to the chair's front legs. She watched and contemplated his every move, learning by doing still not part of her schooling.

Her dad carried a bothered expression on his face and she wondered why. Shouldn't he be pleased that they had caught the guy they had spent several days hunting down? She wanted to ask but her dad spoke up before she got a chance to.

"That was uncalled for." She understood her dad was referring to the last kick the prisoner had received to his head.

The vampire slayer gave her dad a withering look before checking that the ropes that held his prisoner were tight enough. But her dad, her hero, wasn't going to drop matters that easily.

"Shit, Gord'! He's human, and we're using him as bait, not as a fucking punching bag!"

The hunter lingo was something else she was trying to get the hang of. Hunters, it seemed, had very dirty mouths. And they were always barking orders at each other. In her mind she repeated her dad's words, shit, fucking punching bag while she practised what she hoped was a good withering look.

It didn't take long until their prisoner came to and she glanced at him curiously. He was sporting a way cooler withering look than Jackass the vampire slayer. But right now it was aimed at her father and that was quite unsettling. She didn't like that. The prisoner pulled at the ropes and a muffled sound escaped through the gag. Although it was hard to make out she was pretty sure he had just called her dad 'son of a bitch'. She stared at him in awe.

"Jim," her dad ordered, "take off the gag."

The gag was removed and their prisoner spitted on the floor. A sweaty and dirty handkerchief probably didn't taste too good. Gordon grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back.

"Long time no see, Dean," he hissed, "I've missed ya."

Dean. So that was his name? It was a very fitting name. Her eyes wandered over him; his cool hair, leather jacket, dirty worn jeans, boots, the pendant around his neck. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Her father always scolded her for not keeping her mind in the game, for getting crushes on things and people she shouldn't – but it was never infatuation, it was fascination. And the vampire that one time – he had cool teeth.

She watched Gordon slap Dean in the head and wondered whether she was okay with that or not. Dean grunted in response and shook him off. Gordon raised his fist threateningly but his arm was caught mid-air by her dad and he was shoved aside. She understood why. Gordon was more hot-tempered than usual and he was taking more pleasure than he should in slapping their prisoner around. Her dad was pissed. "Another stunt like that and I'll beat the crap out of you myself," he barked. "Go make the call, and tell them we got Dean Winchester, they will spread the word."

Gordon shot him an angry look but obeyed. As soon as he was gone her dad turned to Jim. "You got the explosives?" Jim shifted uncomfortably and nodded. He pointed to some boxes in the corner of the room and she watched her dad's friend curiously as he moved his lanky frame, swaying a little, in the direction of the boxes with explosives. "Well, set it up," her dad ordered.

- o -

He pulled at the ropes furiously, angry with himself for getting caught so easily. It was his fault Sam had taken off. He should've never revealed the secret to him, he should've just done what he was told and kept his fucking mouth shut. It was his fault Sammy was missing, his fault Sammy was on his way over there to save his brother's sorry, pathetic ass, and his fault every hunter in the state was after them. He had to get out of there. He had to find Sam before it was too late.

The trap was set, explosives and all, and he was left in the room like a bundled up fly in a spiderweb, awaiting the return of the spider. The older man, the little girl and Jim were gone and left was Gordon staring at him with a triumphant grin on his face. Alone at last. He fixed Gordon with a murderous stare while his mind worked on overdrive to come up with a plan to save himself and Sam. It had been hours since Gordon made that phone call and, if the word spread as fast as they claimed, Sam was probably already on his way over there. How the hell did Gordon find out about Sam in the first place?

Gordon studied him as if trying to read his mind. His 'reply' was a little off but it didn't bring Dean any satisfaction.

"You brother's fair game," he said, as if that explained his actions the last couple of days.

Dean clenched his fists and pulled at the ropes for the umpteenth time.

"What you heard about Sam is some shitty ass rumour… There's no truth behind it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Your brother is part demon. One day he's gonna be a monster." The words rung with a finality that gave Dean the chills.

That's horse shit! "You don't know that!"

Gordon's voice was calm now - too calm. "I'm not taking chances." He picked up the dirty handkerchief from the floor and twisted it in his hand. Dean eyed him warily. "I've been looking forward to this for six weeks," Gordon said and flashed him an evil smile, his teeth bright white in his dark face. Dean recalled the time in Red Lodge, Montana when he'd kicked Gordon's ass and then left him tied to a chair with the promise to call someone in a couple of days. Hadn't the situation at hand been so grim he would've smiled at the memory, but instead he kicked and pulled at the ropes around his ankles and wrists, his body screaming to get free. Vengeance was a bitch!

"If you fucking hurt him--" he warned, his threat being cut off as the handkerchief was shoved into his mouth again and secured at the back of his head. Gordon smacked him in the head again. What was with the pussy slaps? "Need to tinkle yet?" Gordon mocked and laughed at his clever remark before turning to leave. He stopped in his tracks suddenly. Dean watched him, forced to silence but mind screaming, as Gordon turned back to him with his fist raised. "Boom!" he said and then his fist connected with the side of Dean's face with Dean unable to block or avoid the punch. It was a reprise of what Dean had done to Gordon six weeks ago, only this time he was the one tasting blood and falling to the side as the chair overturned. Dean groaned when his head hit the floor again and sparks of white flashed in his vision. He was slipping into unconsciousness; he could feel it and God if it wasn't the most annoying thing to black out so easily. He laid there waiting for the darkness to take him and then felt Gordon grab his right thumb. His brain, having gone through this once or twice before, registrered the pain before he heard the crack of breaking bone. He cried out behind the gag and tried to curl his hand into a fist to protect the rest of his fingers. Gordon pulled at his already broken thumb and he cried out again, fist unclenching. Gordon grabbed his index finger and forced it back with a grim expression. The crack was loud and the pain almost unbearable and Dean gasped in pain. He was unconscious before Gordon broke a third.

- o -

They watched from afar, in hiding from their approaching prey. But with binoculars she got a good view of the prisoner inside the cabin. He was on his side, still tied to the overturned chair, and struggling to get free. She was amazed that he was still at it. Did he not understand it was pointless? Jackass could tie one hell of a knot, according to her dad. Ropes he tied were impossible to get out of did you not cut them or chop your hand off.

She had noticed the rope burns he had inflicted on himself in his struggle. The scrapes got nastier and nastier the more he pulled at the ropes because now he was bleeding also. Her dad was watching through binoculars as well but he didn't seem to notice it.

They waited for almost an hour until Jim signalled from the other side of the road. He'd seen something. Her dad nodded in response. She had asked what they were still hanging around for and her dad had replied, 'to make sure the job is finished'. She guessed that meant until they were sure the half demon guy was dead. They waited in silence as the minutes ticked away. But nothing.

A/N: This bit was written before 'Hunted' aired. I had watched the trailers for the episode though and weaved some lines from them into this story. So anyway, this was my idea of what some of the scenes in the ep would be like.