Author Note:Very sorry for the extremely long delay for this chapter. This chapter was actually finish back in January, but sadly my computer crashed. When I finally got my computer working again this chapter did not exist any more. It took me a lot longer then I thought it would to rewrite. I am not sure when I'll next be able to update. As life is crazy at the moment and I have another story developing in my head which keeps distracting me. However, I am not going to abandon this story I have an ending planned out just have to get there. Thank you for the support both Rogue and Dog Fight have had. Hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 8:

After they had hosed Dean clean his captures didn't bring him back to the pens with all the other wolves. They took him straight up to the holding cells, underneath the arena, and there they left him.

As soon as the two men footsteps disappear down the hall Dean frantically began to search for an escape. I am so dead, Dean thought. He could not see himself surviving against a Wendigo. How had they even managed to catch one? Dean had no idea how they managed it, but that didn't really matter now. The fact was Dean was going to have to face one in a ring designed to prevent him from escaping.

Dean was trapped. The room was cement, no window just one solid door. The door, which was lock, had nothing Dean could use on the inside to help him escape. The hinges must have been on the outside of the door as it sat flush with the wall, there was no key hole as the lock was also on the outside and finally there was no door handle either. Dean tried ramming into it to see if he could break it off its hinges. However, the door held firm it did not even offer the smallest creak from the impact of Dean's weight.

Dean wasn't sure how long he had been in the room. All he knew was that he now had a very sore shoulder. The monotony of the cell was broken up once, Dean wasn't sure what had caused it, but there had been a lot of yelling at one stage and Dean had heard people running pass him cell. No-one bothers about Dean though. They left him to stew in his cell.

No-one came to his cell this time, no food was brought, he was left alone. Just when Dean thought he would actually die from boredom he heard noise from the arena above him. He could hear hundreds of people filing into the building. It made him sick to his stomach. The cheering started soon after. Sitting in the cell rubbing his bruised shoulder Dean could tell every time there was a major blow in the fight or when one fight finished and another begun. There was something off about the fighting tonight through. It took Dean awhile to put his finger on it, but what was strange was actually the lack of something. Wolves. There were no roars or growls of wolves fighting; in fact there wasn't even the scent of werewolf around Dean. There had been fresh scent of wolves the first night Dean had been in these cells, but now it was stale. Could there actually be no wolves fight tonight, Dean thought.

Approaching footsteps snapped Dean out of his thoughts. Crouching low, Dean got ready to fight whoever enters the cell. He'd rather die trying to escape then be ripped apart by a Wendigo for entertainment.

The door swung open and scar face him himself was starring Dean down. His shot-gun was aim directly at Dean, with his finger itching at the trigger. The two men from earlier flanked scar face cattle prods at the ready.

"Well, well, well. Looks like some dog has gone off and made himself some doggy friends." Dean felt his blood freeze in his veins as scar face spoke. "We had our self a little riot didn't we, all because of you. Don't get me wrong there was only a few that try to escape, but the only reason they are not dead now is that I would prefer they die in the ring. However, if you don't march into that ring right now I'll give the order for those USELESS DOG TO BE KILLED RIGHT NOW. And I'll make sure it's as painful as possible for them. Do we understand each other?"

Dean could feel his throat tightening, they had Kit and maybe even Colin, and if he did not march to his certain death they would kill the pair of them. It seem that in this place death was always a guarantee, it wasn't a matter of if you were going to survive it was a matter of how long. If Dean allowed himself to be lead to certain death than Kit would live for a little while longer. He would live until he was pair up with an opponent he couldn't beat. However, it might give Kit enough time to live until Sam could rescue him because Dean knew his brother had to be looking for him. So Dean nodded his head and marched out of the cell, a gun pointed at his back Dean leaded the way to the arena. He climbed the stair without been told and waited for the signal to enter the fighting ring. As soon as the cage was opening Dean walked straight on to what would be the stage of his death. He held his head high as the crowd cheered for his blood, and he would give it to them if it brought Kit more time.

He didn't look at the crowd as they cheered and booed him. Instead Dean watched the approaching metal box. It was taller them Dean, and he could make out the sound of claws scratching in the metal box. Three men pushed the box up to an open gate in the cage. Dean could feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest. Breathing deep to try to calm himself he turned away from the metal box.

Something courted his attention in the crowd. Just for a second he swore he saw... Couldn't be, thought Dean, just a trick of the light. Because the quick glimpse of someone he thought he saw was gone, as if they were never there. It wasn't him, he thought, I am just looking for hope where there is none. Well at the very least I am going to go down fighting. Dean squared his shoulder and turned back to the box just in time to watch as the metal door was slide up on the box revealing the Wendigo inside.

Dean blood turned cold as the great hulking beast entered the arena. The cage was quickly shut and locked as soon and the creature entered. The Wendigo was tall, with long arms and legs. Each arm had hands with razor-sharp claws. His face though resembled human was distorted and gruesome. Everything about this creature screamed that he was going to tear Dean apart, but what turned Dean's blood to ice was its speed. One moment he was in front of Dean and the next he had climbed to cage to hang from the cell like a spider ready to strike the helpless fly.

There was no fight. It was just a game of cat and mouse, and Dean was very clearly the mouse. When the Wendigo finally decided to attack all Dean could do was run. The entire crowd was drowned out, all Dean could hear was his own heart pumping in his ears as he tried to evade the creature. However, no matter how fast Dean was the Wendigo was faster. As Dean rolled out of its away as it sprang at him, he felt claws tear through his flesh. It quickly became clear that it was playing with him. It could have very easily have killed Dean already, torn him to pieces. Instead, it chooses to chase Dean, always letting him just escape, but not before taking a chunk of Deans flesh.

Blood was pouring down Dean's skin. His breathes were coming in short gasps. He knew it wouldn't be long now, he was going too died. Dean couldn't run any more, if he had been able to transform he may have had a better chance of fighting. So, Dean squared his shoulders and prepared to face the Wendigo head on.

Suddenly glass shattered above the Wendigo. Dean stared dumbly as liquid and glass rained down on the Wendigo. It let out an angry scream and turned its attention away from Dean toward the crowd. It was as if someone had turn the sound back on, Dean became aware of a fight which had broken out in the crowd. The cage fight seemed to have been forgotten by the men surrounding them, they instead focus on fighting each other. A man was roughly shoved at the front of the crowd. He lost his balance and fell over the barrier into the cage itself. Everything he had held before been shoved slid into the ring toward Dean.

A small silver box caught Dean's eye as it slid to a stop near his foot. Dean look back at the Wendigo, alcohol still drip off its body. The beast was still not paying any attention to Dean, as to the Wendigo Dean was no real threat. Instead it was focus on the crowd; the guards were finally getting the brawl under control. Dean bent slowly to pick up the metal box, ignoring the protest of his injured body. It was just a simple flick of his thumb and the lid open of the box. Then before anyone could notice Dean did something he had done so many times before in his life that it was second nature. In one fluid motion his thumb ran across the thumbwheel lighting the wick as his wrist twisted and he threw the lighter towards the Wendigo.

Screams erupted from the creature as the small lighter flame ignited the alcohol covering it. As flame began to engulf the creature it made one last lunge toward Dean. All Dean could do was climb to escape the enraged flaming monster. He reached the ceiling of the cage, his hands and feet burning from the silver of the cage. It wasn't enough to escape the grip of the creature. The Wendigo wrapped a burning hand around Dean's ankle and tried to pull him down from the ceiling. Dean's muscles screamed, his hands burned, and his leg where the Wendigo grip felt like it was on fire, but he didn't let go. A scream of pain was ripped from Dean. He just had to hold out a bit longer. Just as he didn't think he could hold on any longer Dean felt the Wendigo grip loosen. Turning to look at the Wendigo Dean watch as it began to dissolve into ash, until it suddenly crumpled, fire engulfing the corpse.

It was like somebody cut the string holding Dean up. His body drop to the cage floor, he only just managed to avoid landing in the burning remains. As Dean lay on the ground gasping for breath he realised there was an eyrie silent surrounding him. Everyone stared in shock at what had just occurred. All it took was one person to break out of their shock and throw a bottle in angrier and suddenly all hell broke loose. No-one had expected Dean to win. He knew that a lot of people must have lost money betting against him. Glass rained down on him as bottles shattered on the cage.

The guards seem to snap out of whatever stupor they were in and sprung in to action. Most tried to get the crowd under control again, while two tried to get Dean from the ring. Even with them threatening to shock him with the cattle prod couldn't get Dean to get up. The men were yelling at him to get up, but Dean just didn't have the strength or the energy to get up, he couldn't get his legs underneath himself. Seeing it as useless to tried and get Dean to walk out by himself, the mea grabbed him under his arms and dragged him from the ring towards the stairs. Dean managed to get his feet under him once they left the arena. He chanced a glance back at the crowd as the guards half carried him toward the stair back to the basement where the werewolves were being kept. It couldn't have been coincident what happen at the end of the fight and who he thought he glimpse in the crowd. Dean now knew that he hadn't imagined it. He couldn't prevent the small smirk that graced his lips. John Winchester had been in the crowd.