Victor cut the last rope and darted towards the door. He got behind it the second it swung open.
Victor slammed it back. Hard. With a satisfying WHAM it hit somebody. Grabbing the edge of the door Victor slammed it into that somebody two more times.
In the dark he could only see a shadow going down but a second one was still standing. Sort of. One hand on his knee, the other on the wall to support himself he breathed harshly.
"Back off! I have a knife." Victor yelled. He shifted his weight to dash forwards. If he could only get outside. That was all. Just get outside.
"Dean!" He shadow on the floor shouted. Sam. Victor threw half a glance in his direction. Just to make sure he was far enough away. Half a glance.
The next thing he knew was laying on his stomach kissing the floor and his arm painfully twisted behind his back.
"Son of a bitch." Dean's voice muttered into his ear. He was dragged to his feed and a second later the cuffs snapped and he buried his face in the pillow. So close. It wasn't fair.
Dean turned the light on and Victor blinked into the sudden brightness. It took him a second to take in the scene he was watching.
Blood. Both Winchesters were covered in blood. From Dean's hairline, maybe where the door had hit him, blood dripped over his face. His hands and clothes were stained red. With much more gentleness than he had showed to Victor seconds ago he hauled Sam to his feet and maneuvered him to sit on the bed.
Sam looked bad. His shirts were ripped to pieces. With one hand he pressed a cloth to his side and he was bleeding badly.
"You have to call an ambulance." Victor said but the Winchesters ignored him. "Dean. This is serious. He needs an hospital. Now!"
"OK, let's get rid of this and I'll have a look." Dean murmured while he peeled one layer of shirts after another off Sam. When his upper body finally wasn't covered with anything but blood, Dean settled Sam on his side so that he had good access to his brothers torn rips. To Victor it looked like he had a fight with Freddy Krueger. And lost.
Sam was facing him. And he didn't looked freaked at all. His face was a mask of pain, sweat glittering all over it, but he seemed calm. He even frowned as he looked closer to Victor.
"He is bleeding." Sam said. His voice was low and normal. Not a hint in it that his right side was sliced open. Victor could swear he saw white shimmer through when Dean wiped the blood away. White like a bone.
Sam's words got Victor Dean's attention.
"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked rummaging through the first aid kid he had opened on the floor. When he got that Victor couldn't tell. His head still hurts.
"Put pressure on it." A package of dressing material hit his chest. "I'll have a look when I'm done here."
Victor snored. When I'm done here, what was he thinking? That he was a freaking doctor?
"Dean." He tried again. "He needs an hospital. He is bleeding to death." Couldn't he see that? Or didn't he want to?
"Are you so afraid of prison that you rather let him die?" Victor played his biggest trump. Dean cared about Sam. A lot. That much he had learned about Dean.
His eyes met Dean's. Lethal pools of green.
"I would die to keep him save." He said staring Victor down. Victor broke eye contact first. "This we can handle ourselves. So stop talking and let me do my job."
"Can we just get over this?" Sam asked propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm bleeding here."
Victor was forgotten. After he fed Sam two painkillers and some water, Dean settled him back on his side. Than he started to clean the wounds.
"Hugging a wendigo." He shook his head. "You are such an emo bitch."
"Ungrateful jerk." Sam replied with a weak smile.
"Hold on." With forceps Dean pulled something out of the mass his brother's side was and hold it up. Sam flinched, a sharp gasp escaped his lips.
"Want a souvenir?" Dean grinned.
"What is it?"
"Piece of a claw."
"No. I have the scar to tell the tale." He bit his bottom lip. "If you ever come to the part where you stitch me up."
"Getting there." He finished the cleaning and got more things out of the first aid kid. It was very well stocked and Dean seemed to know his way around with the medical stuff. How often did he have to do something like this, Victor wondered.
Sam's naked chest gave him a clue. Besides a tattoo on his left pec – a pentagram surrounded by flames, of course – Sam had more scares to tell the tale. Nasty ones.
Apparently he had been stabbed and maybe shot more than once. Burned on his forearm. With an open mind the scar near his collarbone looked suspicions like a bite. From a big animal. Another one started just below his navel and disappeared under his waist band. And that were only the ones Victor could see he bet there were more.
"Here we go." Dean said and began to put stitches in his brothers flesh. Sam fisted the sheets lines of pain on his face but he hold still and didn't made a sound. Like he knew the pain.
Dean worked quick with efficient moves mumbling soft words of comfort under his breath.
"I think the painkillers kick in." Sam said his eyes closed. The lines of pain softened a bit.
"I'm here. You can sleep. I'll keep watch." With his free hand Dean stroked sweaty hair out of his brothers face before he did the next stitch. He was halfway done and Victor wasn't sure if a doctor could have done a better job.
A few minutes later Dean finished his work. Clean white dressing covered the wound and Sam was fast asleep. With a smile on his lips Dean tucked him in.
"Your turn." His attention was back on Victor. Dried blood covered Dean's face though the gash near his hairline had stopped bleeding a while ago.
Victor started to protest but was cut off.
"I'll just make sure your are not dying here till you can see a doctor tomorrow." He hold his hands up in surrender. "So don't try to take me down. I'm to freaking tiered for games. All right?"
"OK." Victor nodded and Dean sat down at the edge of the bed. He was so close Victor could smell the mixture of blood, sweat and smoke. And something like grilled pork.
"It's not that deep. I don't think it needs stitches."
"Good. Because I wouldn't let you near me with a needle." It came out of his mouth more comradely than he had meant to. Their eyes met and Victor could only see honest concern in that green pools. Maybe a bit of an amusement.
Dean offered him painkillers which he took without hesitation because his arm really hurts and his head pulsed with his heartbeat.
"Sorry, for … you know … the door." He felt kinda bad for hitting Dean. And that said something.
"Actually I'm impressed how you managed to get free. I would have done the same thing." He didn't seemed mad at all. "But I would have gotten away." He added with his trademark smirk.
Victor watched while Dean dressed the wound. "Where did you learn this?"
"Kinda comes with the job." He smiled lost in memories. "Actually, Sam is better with the needle."
That part of their lives Victor didn't want to think about. How many nights like this they had? Will they have?
"What did you mean by I can see a doctor tomorrow?" Victor changed the subject.
"What I said." He closed the kit. "We're done here. I'll just let Sam sleep a few hours before we get on the road again. We have to make sure to get a headstart before you can chase us again."
Right. He was a fed and they were psycho killers. Problem was, it didn't feel that way anymore. It didn't feel right.
Dean watched him closely. Reading something in Victor's face.
"Crap." Was all Dean said running a hand through his hair. The blood caught his eye. Like he haven't noticed it before Dean examined his arms and clothes. "I'll take a shower." He announced. "Do I have to secure you?"
Victor couldn't make any sense of his captor's behavior but he was willing to play along. Dean earned that much. "I'll stay put." He promised and meant it.
While Dean was in the shower Victor lay back. Thinking. On the nightstand between the beds lay the souvenir Dean had pulled out of Sam's ribs. Victor picked it up and examined it form every angle. It was some kind of claw.
"You can keep it, if you want." Dean was standing in the bathroom door, arms crossed over his naked chest. Only wearing sweatpants he looked way to young and vulnerably. He had the same tattoo Sam had. And scars. As he bend over his bag and pulled out a T-shirt Victor saw scars on his back, too.
"You are like a dog with a bone." Dean said while he was dressing. "You can't just let go, can't you?"
"No." He wasn't sure what to believe. What to make out of this, but sure as hell he couldn't just pretend the last few days had never happened.
"You should." He sighed. "But if you really can't you might want to speak to Rachel Donovan. She'll tell you a different story than she told the police."
Victor needed a moment to place the name. The last victim. The one Sam couldn't save.
"You saved her?"
"Her and two others. They are in the hospital." Dean sat at the edge of Sam's bed one hand on his brother's legs. Than he started to talk. About the wendigo hunt. About shapeshifters in St. Louis and Milwaukee. About a spirit in the Green River County Jail.
And Victor listened.
"What about Baltimore?" He asked after Dean had finished.
"A death omen. I was most of the time in custody so that would be Sam's story to tell. Besides I don't want to get other people in trouble."
The cop. Victor understood and didn't ask further.
"You are at the beginning of a very dangerous and most kindly deadly path. I highly recommend you to stop before it's to late." Dean looked him in the eye.
"I'm not saying I believe all that stuff you just told me, but it raised some serious questions. I have to find answers."
"Yeah, I know." And he really looked like he knew.
The Winchesters left before sunrise.
The maid found Victor a few hours later.
I know I'm evil but this is the end of "Take a Seat". I promise there will be more. Part two of my Victor 'verse will be called "Down the Rabbit Hole" so look out for that if you like.
Maybe I'll do one or two oneshots first. I don't know just yet.
I also want to thank everybody who left a review, put this story on alert/favorite list or just enjoyed reading it. It's kinda overwhelming how many people actually like this story.