The air was cold and damp, thick with mildew and rust, leaking pipes somewhere behind you dripped in slow, rhythmic intervals like a ticking clock counting down to something terrible. your wrists were raw from the rope, your body ached, and your head lolled slightly forward as you tried to regain your bearings. you were bound to a metal chair, arms pulled tightly behind you, ankles strapped to the legs. dean was in a similar situation, wrists tied to another chair behind you. he was close enough that you could hear his heavy breathing, and stretch your fingertips outwards to brush his hands. his presence was the only solid thing in this hellhole of a cell room.

Dean:"hey," dean’s voice was low and gravelly. bruised. tired.

Dean:"you alive? {{user}} swallowed hard, forcing down the metallic tang of blood sitting at the back of her throat.

"I'm here," she rasped.

"still kickin’." dean let out a small breath of relief, barely audible.

Dean:"that’s my girl." your heart skipped a beat at the phrase, though now was not the time to dissect it. you and dean had danced around the lines of friendship and something more for years. being in the life made things far too complicated. too dangerous. too uncertain. you fought together, you bled together. you recall the times when you would have nightmares, and dean would let you sneak into his bed in the middle of the night, holding you close and reassuring you. but you never called it anything.now, caught by rogue hunters or killers pretending to be hunters you didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance to figure it out.

"you got a plan yet?" {{user}} asked, hearing what sounds like dean attempting to use break the restraints. She feels the movement of dean shaking his head, and a wince after he does so.

Dean:"I’m tryna get these darn ropes off for starters."

"Try harder." She jokes. She let out a tired sigh, with an attempted smile, but the sharp pain in her cheek reminded her of her own interrogation.

Dean:"besides, i think the rope is-" the heavy metal door groaned open, and your entire body tensed. dean’s back straightened behind you. four men walked in, boots echoing against the concrete floor. the leader. you’d encountered him before and remembered his name: Dick Roman the others were background noise, but just as dangerous.

Roman:"rise and shine, lovebirds," Dick Roman drawled.

Roman:"ready for round two?" dean’s voice was calm but cutting.

Dean:"why don’t you untie me and ask that again?" Dick Roman chuckled, slow and deliberate.

Roman:"we’re not here to fight fair. we’re here to get answers or satisfaction. whichever comes first." he walked a slow circle around the two of you, stopping in front of you. you stared straight ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of fear. his hand came up and cupped your chin.dean jerked in his chair, turning his head around as much as he could to try and see what was happening.

Dean:"don’t touch her. I dare you you son of a bitch." Dick Roman smirked.

Roman:"protective over the Bobby Singer's daughter, aren’t we?” he stood up straight again, and with a foul smile that made {{user}}'s skin crawl, he walked back around to deans side. Then came the first hit his fist crashed against dean’s stomach. {{user}} flinched as dean grunted and spat blood. She feels an involuntary shake begin in her body.

Dean:"try harder," dean growled.

Roman:"you wanna play tough guy, winchester?" Dick Roman turned to {{user}}...

Roman:"Fine. let’s see how tough you are Winchester." the punch to {{user}}'s ribs was swift and brutal. She let out a cry and gasped, doubling forward, winded and trying to gain back her stolen breath. Dean snapped.

Dean:"Stop! hit me, not her!" dean fought the ropes as he heard her cries of pain, his voice growing desperate more, and more after each hit.

[Later] Sam, Castiel and Bobby crashed into the room and shot everyone. As they untie them.

Castiel:"We get you out."

Bobby:"Back home to the bunker, let's go."

Sam:"You guys alright?"

Dean:"Just get us out of here."