Memories of You

Chapter 9

"Dean..." Sam's voice had that tone that told Dean he was in trouble. It snapped Dean out of his attitude quickly.

Dean walked over to where Sam was standing and saw the huge pool of blood at his feet. Dean's heart dropped to his knees.

"Oh shit," Dean finally said. "Guess you were right, Sammy."

"Y/N's in big trouble."

You froze in terror as the man that was your boss got closer to you. And realization hit you.

You were never free of the life. You never truly made your escape. You should've known better. Like Dean always said, you can never leave the life. Eventually it finds a way to drag your ass back in.

You didn't know how long Mr. Campton had been a demon, but at this point it didn't matter. He knew you were a hunter. You'd told him things you wouldn't tell ordinary folk. And now you had a feeling he was going to use that against you.

What if this demon knew about the Winchesters? What if he was using you as bait? Again, that didn't seem to matter to you. You'd die before you gave up your former lover and his brother.

Mr. Campton slapped you hard across the face, causing you to shout in pain, spitting blood onto the cold cement floor.

"You know," Mr. Campton said cheerfully, as if he was delighted to have you bound and beaten to a pulp. "I wasn't planning on doing this for at least another couple of years. But, ya know, orders are orders. And what the boss wants, the boss gets."

"T-The...boss?" you wheezed.

Mr. Campton swatted you across the face again, another yelp of pain evading your lips. "I believe you and those fucking degenerates known as Sam and Dean call him 'Yellow Eyes'."

You could feel the exact moment your heart turned to solid ice. Mr. Campton wasted no time grabbing what looked like a miniature ice pick and dragged it across your face.

"Now we can really have some fun," Mr. Campton giggled.

Sam and Dean combed your apartment for any more clues that could lead to your whereabouts. But to their disapproval, none was made available. Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his heart pounding feverishly in his chest. Dean wasn't much better, as he took the crumbled remains of your cell phone and threw it against the wall.

The brothers climbed out the window they came in (after Sam ensured that Dusty had plenty of food to eat, to Dean's displeasure) and Sam pulled out his own cell phone.

"Please tell me you're calling me at this ungodly hour to tell me my niece is okay," bobby grumbled sleepily.

"There's signs of a struggle, large pool of blood in front of the door, cell phone smashed..." Sam had to reign in his emotions to be able to speak. "Bobby, she's gone. And she's in big trouble."

"No shit, Sherlock," Bobby spat back. Sam could hear the seasoned hunter getting out of bed. "Well from Nebraska there's not much I can do. And if she's in trouble, by the time the crew and I get out there it may be too late for additional help."

Sam hadn't considered that, and internally he cringed. This was a battle that the brothers we're gonna have to fight on their own. If this was a demon that took you, it wasn't going to be easy to trap. And as far as they were aware, there wasn't a weapon in existence that could outright kill a demon. Their best chance was a shit ton of holy water and the element of surprise. And that's assuming it was a demon. One way to find out.

"Thanks Bobby, but I think we can handle it," Sam finally said.

"You sure about that?" Bobby asked.