Running From Insanity

30. The Blood of Our Enemy

I was fastened to a chair and stuck in a Devil's Trap before Sam and Dean were pushed into the room. Dean tried to verbally stop them but was unsuccessful. I sat patiently waiting for them to notice me and get me out. When they didn't recognize that I was there, I took a page out of Dean's book; verbally.

I cleared my throat and shifted, waiting for a response. Sam swung around first, quickly running to my aid. He untied the ropes and started scraping his foot on the paint.

"How'd this dry so fast!?" he muttered, grunting as he scuffed the markings. Dean, on the other hand, was trying the door.

"I doubt they're that dumb," I called to him. He gave me a dirty look but continued trying.

It didn't budge. I bit back a 'toldja'. When Sam was finished smudging paint, he moved to examine the windows. "Anything?" Dean asked him.

"Nothing," Sam replied, still looking out the windows. "You think Edgar's here for the same reason we are?" He paused. "I mean, look, if they figured out that we're here to get Alpha blood for a weapon..."

"And how would they figure that out?" I scoffed, practically running out of the Devil's Trap. I rubbed my sore wrists.

"I don't know," Sam trailed off.

"I think any way you slice it, you got Pac Man and True Blood in the same room and that's bad news," Dean deadpanned. "I mean, he's not stupid. Why the hell do you think he locked us in here?"

"Dean, we're his enemy," Sam shot. "I mean, they're like monster cousins or something. Who would you give the benefit of the doubt to? Man, you know what? Maybe the Sucro is poisoning the vamps on accident. Maybe they'll fix it."

That thought hadn't occurred to me and I'm assuming it hadn't for Dean either. If Edgar, or whatever his name is, came to tell the Alpha about the mistake, then we're in the wrong place and we're going to get eaten alive. On the other hand, if he came because he did know that we were obtaining a weapon, the Alpha would be eaten alive. Both situations are a lose, lose.

"I think you got the oldest monster on earth thinking that he can hold his own because he always has," Dean said.

"That Leviathan's going to eat him alive. Literally," I joined in. "Okay, so how're we going to stop this?"

Dean was the first to start looking around the room for anything helpful. When he stopped turning his head, I fixated on what he was looking at. A blood bag.

"Hey," he called to Sam, ripping the needle from the bag. "You think you could pick a lock with this?" Sam took the needle with a weary look.

"I can open the door," I scoffed, crossing my arms.

"We want stealth, though. I don't want Edgar to know we're here." Images of my spit and Dean's blood on the table flew across my vision. Even I could smell them. He already knows.

"But, Dean... we gave up all our Vamptonite."

"Not you, too," I whined. My groan earned a look from both Brothers.

"Did we?" Dean smiled, rolling up his pant leg. A smile met my lips as well once I saw a syringe poking out of his boot.

Sam smiled as well and headed for the door. He knelt down and inserted the needle. I longed to know how he was precisely picking the lock with skill. From his dad's journal, I knew it had taken a lifetime.

"Edgar already knows we're here," I told them, crossing my arms and leaning on the doorframe. Dean eyed me with curiosity. "Your blood is on that table and so's my spit. Even I could smell them, I imagine that he can, too."