When Dean Winchester finds himself at the mercy of Bella Talbot, desperate for information that might save his soul, he crosses paths with Nadia Turner-the strong-willed, fiercely independent daughter of hunter Rufus Turner. Though the connection be...
The Winchesters and Nadia spent the rest of the day meticulously preparing their plan. Dean checked the shotguns, making sure they were loaded with salt rounds. Nadia dipped the rope in holy water, watching the liquid soak into the fibers. They'd need every advantage they could get to stop Dirk—whoever, or whatever—he had become.
"We've got our weapons, we've got our plan," Sam said, his voice calm but his eyes betraying the tension running through him. "Nadia, you keep an eye on Dirk, and Dean and I will handle the rest."
Nadia nodded, checking the salt rounds in her own shotgun. "Let's just make sure we're ready for anything."
Dean grinned, his usual cocky expression coming through. "Like anything's gonna stop me."
The hours dragged by, but as the night deepened, they were finally ready. They found the bus along a dark back road, the headlights of the Impala slicing through the misty night air.
Dean sped up, the tires screeching as he laid down the spike strip. Seconds later, the bus's tires exploded with a deafening pop, and it came to a screeching halt, swerving to the side.
The driver—a bald, burly man—stumbled out of the bus, shaking his head as ectoplasm dripped from his nose. His eyes darted around, scanning the empty road as if he could sense something was wrong.
"Something's off," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. He started walking around the bus, inspecting it.
"Dirk!" Sam called out, stepping out of the shadows, shotgun raised.
Dirk turned, a smirk twisting his features. "What are you gonna do? Shoot me?"
Sam's expression didn't shift. "Don't need to."
Dean was already behind Dirk, having silently moved in from the other side. He grabbed him from behind, slamming him against the side of the bus as Nadia stepped forward, shotgun aimed squarely at Dirk's chest.
With quick, practiced movements, Dean wrapped the holy water-soaked rope around Dirk's wrists. "This rope is soaked in holy water, Dirk. You're not going anywhere."
Dirk snarled, thrashing against the bonds, but the rope held fast, and the burn of the holy water made him flinch. "You think a little water's gonna stop me?"
"I think it's enough," Nadia said coldly, her gun steady as she trained it on him.
Dean moved quickly, hopping onto the bus to make sure the athletes were safe. They were all staring at him, confused and startled by the scene unfolding.
"Stay where you are," Dean ordered, his voice firm. "You'll be okay. Just stay calm."
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