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Chapter 11: Damsels in Distress

The saliva in your mouth felt thick and hard to swallow. Were they dead or unconscious? What had Stephen done to them?

As the questions swam through your head, you realized that you froze in your spot. You scolded yourself for not moving. Time was always of the essence on a hunt. It was a precious thing that was foolish to waste, especially when you had people to help.

Without another thought, you tucked the gun back into your waistband and ran to Sam picking the lock on his wrists. It was difficult at first to maneuver the pins in the lock, but once your eyes adjusted to the blackness you were able to work with ease. His arms fell heavy to the ground and you began lightly slapping his face, hoping against hope that he would wake up and be okay.

"C'mon Sammy," you pleaded quietly. "You have to wake up."

His head jerked a little before it lifted and he looked at you with a crooked grin. "It's Sam," he uttered shakily.

"Oh, thank god," you breathed, pulling the weakened hunter into a hug. "I'm gonna go work on Dean." You handed him your bobby pins and crawled over to Dean, yanking more bobby pins out, causing your hair to fall loose.

You straightened out the pins and started to work on Dean's chains, trying to talk him awake. Anytime you stopped to lightly pat his cheek, his head would only sway to one side or the other. It was beginning to seriously worry you.

Just as you finished getting Dean's wrists loose, Sam stood above you and whispered, "I'm going to see what I can find out. Stay with Dean and get him awake if you can."

You nodded, realizing after it was too late that Sam couldn't see you nod your head. You supposed he understood that you were going to stay. It would be stupid to leave Dean unconscious with the Starship roaming around somewhere. A shiver went down your spine at the thought of him being anywhere nearby.

Dean still wasn't coming to, and for the time being you gave up on him and worked on freeing his feet. While you were at work, you heard him groan. Your heart leaped in your chest at the sudden noise, but you still managed to get his shackles unlocked.

The hunter started to shift a little and you made your way to sit beside him. With your hand resting on his cheek, you softly coaxed him awake.

"Dean, it's me. You need to wake up."

There was another groan and he pinched his eyes shut tightly before opening them. They landed lazily on your face. He seemed very groggy and winced when he moved a little. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"

"Apparently saving your skin," you smirked at the thought that you had to rescue the stubborn boys who outed you.

"Where's Sam?" He started to stand, but fell back into the wall, resting a hand onto the right of his side. You quickly steadied him and stood close by his side in case it happened again.

"He said he was going to see what he could find."

"Crap," Dean grumbled and started forward, stumbling as he went. Something was not okay with him.

"Take it easy. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. We need to find Sam."

Your eyes travelled to the spot where his hand was still rested. You moved a hand towards his and forced him to move it away. Since he was weak, he didn't fight it. Below his hand, you found his shirt was soaked with blood.

"Dean, what-why are you bleeding?"

You gingerly lifted his shirt, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. There was a decent sized wound in his side. You assumed that Stephen did it to him at some point while the boys tried to ambush him. Before you had the chance to question him further, Sam called out for you both.

Following the sound of his voice led you behind the staircase. Dean leaned heavily into you as Sam shined a flashlight into the corner.

"What is it?" You asked, not entirely willing to move for fear that Dean would collapse from blood loss and likely head trauma.

"Stephen isn't Stephen."

Sam backed away, allowing you to see the rotting corpse of who once was the Stephen everyone said existed before he started acting weird. That explained the smell...So Stephen wasn't infected at all. That brought you back to the drawing board. All this time, you were certain that Stephen was infected, meaning that there had to be others and maybe he could lead you to who turned him. That wasn't the case. No one turned Stephen. He was murdered, just as the others.

"Fantastic," you mumbled. "So this thing can shapeshift too, I take it?"

With the click of his tongue, Dean replied, "Bingo."

A/N: So after spending about ten minutes on three separate occasions trying to name this chapter, I've realized how...not good I am at chapter naming. If you guys notice a chapter title you think doesn't fit well and can think of something better, I am all ears. Seriously. This is driving me bonkers.

Also, , thanks to you I am now acutely aware of every time I write the word moseyed because I always read moose now. Haha!