Young Guns [Destiel Au]

One

Two months later

Gruff cheers interrupted from the smoke filled room as Dean Winchester took his place in the pit. A 5ft hole in the ground, of an abandoned sugar factory complete with a large chicken wire net and two gates for the competitors to drop down through. In the past six months Dean had become accustomed to factory's layout. The most recent location in Alastair's long line of skeevy warehouses and basements. He scanned the crowd above him and felt his fear slip away. After all Dean was used to this life, he couldn't count how often he found himself in front of crowds like this one, in the past four years. Rolling his shoulders he Breathed in the familiar smells of cheap tobacco, sweat and the metallic smell of blood.

Through the smoke that filled the old factory like a fog, Dean locked eyes with the man across the pit. Glancing at his frame Dean realized he was a big guy, closer to Sam's height than his own and was probably twice the size of Dean when it came to muscle. Clearly he was a crowd favourite, despite the fact that logically his bulk would probably make the man slower. They always underestimated Dean. He was too small, too pretty to bet on. Or so he had been told. Surprisingly this worked in his favour. Dean had learned early on that the more the odds are against you the more likely you are to gain big when you win. And Dean planned to win.

It wasn't that Dean was cocky, deep down Dean hated this. He hated fighting in places for men like the ones in the crowd, looking at him like he was no more than a rabid dog. But this is what he had to do. He fought dirt bags for the pleasure of slightly richer dirt bags until one of them was on the floor. His dad had done it and now he was doing it because sadly Dean had no other choice and at least if he fought Sammy would never have to.

Not that Dean could picture his gentle Lawyer of a brother in a fight like this. Sam had always been the civil one. Always able to use his words instead of his fists. Knowing Sam, he would more than likely drop out of college and live on the streets than be in a place like this. Thankfully Dean wasn't Sam. He didn't have the big brain or the fancy words instead he had his father's voice in his head and a solution that kept Sam living the dream oblivious to his brother's extra-curricular activities. The pits were a solution that kept Sam safe and happened to line his pockets. Sure it was a solution that meant ending up in places like this, much like John Winchester had all those years ago. But it is what it is.

Taking a deep breath Dean looked away from his opponent and turned his attention to the man climbing down into the pit. He walked to the centre of the ring, turning to address the crowd above them, watching like hungry vultures. "Ladies gentlemen we've got quite the fight lined up for you today. So place your bets."

Dean smirked at that the people here were far from ladies or gentlemen, more like whores and Asshats.

Putting on a mock announcer voice The sleazy guy turned to Deans competition and said "In this corner we have the gruesome, the terrifying Scarecrow!" The crowd cheered loudly, confirming Deans previous suspicions. Dean rolled his eyes. From the way the announcement was going you'd think it was WWE not some illegal cage match.

"And in this corner" the man said pointing at Dean "We have Dean 'The young Gun' Winchester"

Dean smiled falsely. Squaring up he removed his shirt. Turning to face the 'Scarecrow' once again, he too had taken his shirt off revealing a chest tattoo saying his little pet name. The announcer smiled once at both of them then fled the ring similar to a rat hiding from the rain.

Dean moved closer to the centre his competitor doing the same. For a second the danced around each other, then without warning the man threw a punch. Dean turned to avoid it, getting hit on the shoulder instead of his face. He then turned quickly placing a sharp punch to the man's stomach and stepped back just out of his reach. Glancing  at the scarecrow he searched for where to land his next punch, but he instead of finding a weak spot he caught a glimpse of silver in his rival's fist.

Dean shivered at the sight. If this was a legal fight, there would be lights and cheers and almost everything happening would likely be faked. Knives wouldn't be allowed in a legit fight. But this wasn't legal this was one of Alistair's fights and in these fights you were either knocked out or died bloody.

Slowly the Scarecrow lunged at him the knife flicking toward his neck. Dean twisted to the right kicking up and managed to land a hit in stomach as he avoided the Scarecrows fist. Moving back quickly Dean felt blood drip from his cheek. Dean wiped it clean shaken his fist.

"You son of a bitch" Dean muttered as the Scarecrow lunged again. Dean grabbed at his jeans pocket pulling out his own butterfly knife and flicked it open just before he was tackled to the ground.

Groaning softly Dean stared as the Scarecrow lifted the knife up ready to drive it home. His large thighs stopping dean from moving his own hands.

As if planned a sudden bang echoed around the room "Everybody put your hands up!" A voice shouted. From this angle Dean couldn't see the crowd bolting for the exits. But he could hear their shouts and heavy footsteps.

"Shit" Dean muttered. Trying to  pull his hand out from under the Scarecrows thunder thighs looking for his own escape route. Catching his competitors equally confused gaze they both stood to run when suddenly a man charged putting his knee on the Scarecrow's neck as he snapped on a pair of cuffs.

Dean tried to run only to receive the same treatment from a stone faced officer who looked like he ate babies for breakfast.

"Hey buddy watch the merchandise" Dean snarled acting like he didn't have a care in the world.

The cop sighed ignoring him as he said in a bored tone " You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you." Dean  blocked him out continuing to struggle as the cop lifted him up, hoisted him through the gate. For a brief second Dean considered running before the cop pulled him up and lead him outside before pushing him into the back of the cop car. Well almost the cop made sure he got a whack on the door frame first.

"Whoops, I'm sorry miscalculation on your height there princess." The cop said before getting into the front on the car. Dean glared at him through the glass divider ready to make a comment when the radio interrupted him.

"Hendrickson we have reports coming in left and right, did you seriously bust up one of Al's joints? " a voice asked lazily.

The cop, Hendrickson lifted the radio and said with a smile,  "yeah w finally got a break Frank I'm coming in now."

Hendrickson locked eyes with Dean in the rear view mirror a smile on his dark face. "You princess, you are going to save my career."

"Me?" Dean asked suddenly confused, he knew he had been doing some illegal shit in that pit but not enough for the cop to be this happy. In fact, nothing about this arrest was making any sense. In the four years of Dean's time in the pits he had never heard of one being raided before. Dean had always assumed it involved some kind of payoff but watching the cop grin as he pulled out of the factory's old lot Dean felt a certain sense of dread.

"Yes you for three years I've been trying to destroy this mess and you have just handed me the dynamite"

"And how did I do that?" Dean asked more lost than he was pretending to be.

"Oh you'll see. The suits are going to have a field day with you princess, and as for me I'm celebrating. What do you think steak or lobster?"