Where Do We Go From Here? ↳ Dean Winchester

Thirty- Two

When I wake up the next morning, I have a pounding headache. I expect to wake up in some crappy motel room, but instead, I'm handcuffed to some sort of water pipe about a foot above my head in some old, empty, dusty building.

What the hell is this?

I blink a few times, trying to make sure that the scene in front of me is real and not a hallucination. It smells like it just rained, but everywhere around me is dry.

"I didn't think you would wake up," a voice says. The oh-so familiar Clary comes out from behind the corner, holding Ruby's old demon knife. She crosses her arms, looking me up and down.

"Clary," I murmur, my throat feeling very dry. "It's been a while. How have you been? What did I do this time that's gotten me into this?" She steps closer, the sound of her boots against the concrete echoing off of the walls.

"Your boys are currently trying to kill Lucifer," she starts. "They don't know that I've taken you, because I messed with their heads. I didn't like doing it, but I didn't have a choice."

"They've got the colt," I say. The previous night, I had a dream, a premonition. The colt won't work to kill Lucifer. Jo and Ellen are going to die. "It's not gonna work."

"You are so much smarter than you let on, you know that?" I roll my eyes. "Seriously. And for someone who only has a month left, you seem pretty calm about it." I stare at her, my blue eyes burning through hers. She sighs dramatically. "Oh, right. You don't know. Don't you ever feel like a chunk of your life is missing?"

She's right. I do feel like I forgot some things.

"You remember your brother's eighteenth birthday party? There was a twelve year old kid there who...who was getting picked on by these older kids, and they skinned his knee open."

"I remember."

"That was Sam." I lower my eyebrows, trying to believe her. "I'm not lying to you. That kid was Sam. And Dean was at that party, too. That's where you guys first met."

"Okay, spare me the sappy love story and get to the important stuff." I snap.

"It wasn't all sappy, but okay," she mumbles, sitting in a chair across from me. "They left town a little before your brother died. When you were a werewolf, their dad tried to hunt you down and kill you, but you managed to get away every time." She pauses, allowing me to digest this new information. "After you got...de-wolved, you went back and stayed with Layla in her apartment. You saw Dean again, and you became friends. A few months later, he got shot. He was going to die; Sam was a wreck. You couldn't bear to see him be that upset, so you sold your soul for him."

"May 13th, 2000." I start to remember everything.

"A few years ago, after Dean went to hell, Zachariah asked you to pull him out, just to see if you could do it. He said that if you pulled Dean out of hell, then he would bring your brother back." She pauses, watching my expression. "When you got back from hell, you were almost dead, and you couldn't remember a thing about Dean or Sam. We don't know where you put those memories."

"So, the Winchesters don't know any of this, right?" I ask.

"They know about your deal, but I think that's it."

_________________________

That bitch Clary left me here by myself. My angel powers aren't at full capacity, so I can't poof out of these handcuffs. Where would she even get a pair of handcuffs?

Oh god. Don't open that door.

I can hear the sounds of multiple footsteps echoing off of the walls. I stay silent, trying to stay hidden from whoever it may be. The footsteps stop directly in front of me. Someone grabs my leg and pulls me out from my hiding place. I look up and see three people there. All of them blink, showing me their black eyes. Not people.