The guy screamed a lot. Somehow, they were expecting someone… stronger. Someone who had done so much damage had to have some sort of strength, right? It turned out that he was just a coward, using magic to take revenge on the people he'd never been strong or brave enough to confront. A fourth of the small town was either dead or moved, and this man couldn't be forgiven. There was no option of handing over the books and leaving. There was no threat of being watched and hunted again should he pick up where he left off. He was only given death. He begged, pleaded, and cried out for mercy, but the brothers couldn't give it to him. Wouldn't give it to him. We're going to kill you, Dean said. Then we're going to salt and burn your bones, Sam continued. He tried to run away, howling as he went, and Dean glared at him when Sam's long legs finally caught up. They dragged him back to the house and tied him to a chair. Dean covered his ears while Sam took the safety off. Consecrated iron bullets, even though he was human. Better safe than sorry. The noise finally stopped, and Dean relaxed. They were searching his body for anything of value or mischief when they heard something from the floorboards.
"We don't need no education…" The brothers looked at each other in surprise. It didn't sound like a radio or music player. "We don't need no thought control…" As the song continued, the Winchesters found the door to the basement. When Dean pulled it open, the singing stopped, and they heard a clatter. Guns at the ready, they descended the steep stairs, peering into the dark. Sam found a light switch, and an ancient, yellowed bulb clinked on. They found themselves staring at a young man chained to a post in the middle of the room. He was as surprised to see them as they were to see him. He was nude, and filthy from the dirt floor. His hair was long and wild, and his pale eyes blinked up at them in wonder. Dean approached him while Sam looked around. There were various children's books and toys scattered within the man's reach, and he was clutching a ragged doll to his chest.
"How long you been down here, kid?" Dean asked. His voice was rough with anger. The young man swallowed hard and licked his dry lips. Sam found a cup in the laundry area and filled it with water. His smile was bright when he reached for it, and the sounds he made were obvious relief.
"Dunno," the man muttered as he handed the cup back. "Why was Daddy screamin' so much?" The brothers traded a startled look. "I never saw someone so big a'fore."
"We, uh… your daddy did some bad things," Dean told him. Sam dug around for his lock picks and started to work on the man's cuffs. "We had to make him stop."
"Didja kill 'im?" the man looked up at them with such innocent and curious eyes that Dean didn't want to say anything else.
"Yes," Sam told him softly. "Do you have any other family? Someone you can go stay with?" The man nodded his head and rotated his freed wrists while Sam started on his ankles.
"Gotta uncle. He's in… De….moine?" the man sounded unsure. "I don' wanna go there." Dean examined the circle around the post. It had been worn into the ground by someone pacing.
"We've got to take you somewhere," Sam told him sensibly. "What's your name? Do you know how old you are?"
"Alexander. I'm twenty-somethin,'" He said proudly. "Do I have to go to Uncle Max? He's real mean."
"We'll figure something out," Dean promised. He pulled off his plaid button-down and helped Alex put his arms through. "Sam, you take care of the mess upstairs. I'm gonna get Alex to the motel." The motel was within a short enough distance that Sam didn't protest. He picked up the doll that Alex had left, and handed it to him. Alex smiled brightly again and followed Dean up the stairs. He was short enough that Dean's shirt covered all the important things, and Sam sighed. Things were never simple when witches were involved.
"Anything else you need?" Dean asked. He tried to guide Alex out the back door, but the man went straight for the living room and the corpse of his father. He frowned at it for a few long moments before he finally leaned down to look into vacant eyes.
"Ya won' see Mama," he whispered. "'Cause she was beautiful 'n' precious, 'n' yer a bastard. You don' d'serve Heaven, and I hope you burn in Hell." He leaned back and suddenly kicked the chair, sending it and his father crashing to the floor. "'Cause tha's where ya put me." He looked up at Dean again, and his eyes softened. "B' now I'm out." Dean smiled a little.
"Damn right, you are. Let's get out of this hellhole, huh?" Alex nodded and clutched his doll tightly. He stared at the rising moon while they drove, and looked absolutely at peace. Dean was content, even though he wasn't sure what they were going to do with the guy.