Part of the Family Business (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter Twelve

It's late at the motel, and I hear scuffling noises. This wakes me up, so I'm struggling to open my eyes and stay focused on the noise. I yawn widely and rub my eyes - I need to wake up. Quickly, I roll myself out of the bed. Luckily, Dean had taken most of the covers, so I don't disturb him.

What's that noise? I need to wake up. Crouching, I feel under the mattress and grab a gun. Fully awake now, I stand, holding the gun readily. With quick feet, I walk into the bathroom and click the light on. No one's in there, or in the bathtub. I turn the lights off and look over at the window above the sink.

Silently, I walk over, the kitchen tile cold on my bare feet. A slit in the curtain allows me to discreetly look across the parking lot at a van. I've never seen it in my life, and the back of my neck tingles like I'm being watched. Someone else is in the room.

Panicking a bit now, I drop my gun to my side.

"D-" a hand interrupts me, roughly covering my mouth. I watch as Dean stirs a bit, and I struggle against the person behind me. My elbow juts out, hitting them in the stomach a few times. They knee me awkwardly in the forehead. As my head goes to their knee, I swing my leg out and flip the kitchen table over behind me. Dean sits upright in his bed.

"Chrys?" he asks loudly. "Sam!" Dean yells as my kidnapper drags me through the front door. I kick and try to be as stubborn as possible. My attempts are pointless, and I'm thrown heavily into a van. As my head hits the opposite door, I hear my name yelled multiple times. It goes black when I feel the vehicle move with a sharp jolt.

---+---+---

The first thing I notice when I come to is the taste of blood. My eyes open and reality floods back to me. I was kidnapped, and now I'm tied to a chair. As I glance around, I realize I'm in a fancy office. Bookshelves tower over me on walls far from me, and the wall behind me seems to be mostly windows. In front of me is a well polished desk with a man sitting behind it, smirking at me. His facial features are jagged, and his hair is the perfect mix of salt and pepper.

After staring at him for a while, he decides to speak. "Your brother wanted me to spare you. I disagreed and think you'd be much better dead," he continues, smirking still, "seeing as you're clearly the head of that puny clan of hunters. If I could give you guys a name, I think I'd call you... The Pitiful Knights. You like that name?" The man stands, narrowing his eyes at me, his finger tips on the desk. "You can't get out of this one," he whispers loudly. I glare at him as he grins.

To my left, large doors fly open, as if they were kicked in. Dean and Sam stand there, Dean holding a gun and Sam with a dagger. Glancing back over to the man behind the desk, I see his smirk has fallen, and he looks at the Winchesters with fire in his eyes.

"Sam," Dean says, aiming his gun at the man, "get her out of the way." Sam nods and jogs over to me, sliding my chair up against the wall.

Both of the brothers advance, but then, the man starts to transform into a werewolf. His clothes rip themselves off, straining against his growing figure, and his nose spreads forward, making a snout. Dean shoots quickly, but the creature moves just in time to miss it. As the werewolf swings a hand across Dean's face, Sam goes in to stab his ribs. It looks like the wolf was anticipating this and grabs Sam's arm with his other hand, twisting it and causing the dagger to drop. Dean shakes his head quickly, trying to regain his balance. Then he raises his gun again - I hear the dagger drop - and he shoots.

From here, it looks like it goes in slow motion somehow. The bullet pierces the center of the werewolf's chest, and Sam and I look on helplessly. I watch as the werewolf stiffens a bit before falling, magically a naked man again.

Sam stands and walks to untie me.

"He said something about my brother," I tell Dean quickly, wriggling out of the loose ropes. "We need to find him."

Dean puts his hands on my shoulders, "Not now. We have to leave before their back-up comes." He turns and takes my hand to lead me out, but I pull back.

"Not without Trick," I say sternly.

"We don't even know that he's in the building," Dean protests, staring at me. "Let's just go. Stop being childish."

"Childish?" I scream. "Missing your brother is childish? Bitch, so help me," I say, grabbing an envelope opener from the desk. "I'm going to find Trick." Quickly, I walk past Dean. He makes an attempt to grab my arm, but I'm too quick for him.

"Chrys," he calls after me. Marching down the hallway, I step over multiple bodies.

"Chrys," I hear Sam's voice this time. Spinning around, I wipe a tear from my face. Sam runs up to me, his face sad.

"Your brother's a vampire," he says, "right?" I nod quickly, scowling.

"Why?"

Sam looks behind him at Dean, who's looking at the spot on the floor just behind Sam. "Why?" I repeat. When Sam turns around back to me, my breath gets caught in my throat. They killed him, didn't they? My mouth moves, struggling to form words as I glare at him.

"We, uh," he starts softly. "I'm sorry, Chrys, but we killed him... in self defense."

"In self defense," I repeat, my voice strangled. "You killed my brother," I say. "You killed him," I shout at him. "In fucking self defense."

I turn around and stumble on my way through the hallway, my vision blurry from tears. My name is called behind me, by both of the brothers, but I ignore them.