I know it's been a while, but with hubby out of town for four months now, it's been hard to wrap my head around writing with four kids always in my ear...so, I am very sorry for the delay...thanks for reading and for the awesome reviews they mean the world to me. bambers;)

Chapter Twelve

I've always hated party crashers – those irritating little bastards who just tend to annoy the hell out of people because they try to do something to draw the attention toward themselves. Well, Sam's got my full undivided attention now. He's clever, I'll give him that much, finding the main breaker, and tripping the lights just as I was beginning to have some fun with Dean.

If I wasn't so pissed, I might've chuckled when I heard one of the metal spikes skitter across the floor. Obviously Dean was taking full advantage of his brother's diversion, so why burst his happy little bubble by telling him that half the fun of hurting someone is seeing the look in their eyes as they're screaming in pain.

"I can almost hear you smiling, Dean," I commented as I rose to stand beside him. "Of course you're smiling as it's what I'd be doing, but I bet I can make that little grin slip from your face."

"Wasn't actually smiling, was more like planning on how I'm gonna gut you like a fish when I get out of these shackles."

"Well, you're just gonna have to hold that thought then," I chuckled as I strode away from him. "Sammyboy wants to play with electricity, so I figure why not help him out with that."

"Get back here you filthy sonuvabitch!" Dean shouted, chains rattling loudly as he struggled to free himself. "You wanna play then we'll play jus' leave my brother out of it!"

"Glad you realize this is all just a game to me, Dean," I called back over my shoulder, "Nothin' personal except for when someone interrupts a play in action as your little brother just did. It's almost kinda like cheating . . . an' I hate cheaters." I swear I could almost feel his heart skip a few beats as I allowed the words to sink in to his thick skull before further adding, "I'm just a little worried that my anger might get the better of me and it would ruin the game entirely if I had to take out one of the players so soon after we've just begun to play."

It's fun playing with people's emotions, more fun listening to them scream as you walk away to hurt someone they care about. Dean's screams were my anchor, they kept me grounded, allowed me to think and take my time with Sam because for as much as I would've loved to kill him then and there – it would've been to quick. Too unsatisfying.

Once in the blackened corridor, I paused and closed my eyes, craning my neck as I listened for sounds of Sam scurrying around in the darkness searching for Dean. He was smart as most people would've probably turned the lights back on for the safe snuggly feeling it would give them no matter how momentary it might be. The second I detected the sounds of footsteps pounding hard against the ground, I was on the move again, soundlessly circling around him and coming back on the other side. With a light-hearted chuckle, I moved forward, now making just enough noise that I knew he would hear me, and also lead him toward where I kept Dean locked up.

"You'll never find your way out of here in the dark, Sammy," I called out, breaking the silence as I quickened my pursuit of him, forcing him to pick up his pace. "And definitely not while holding up your dying brother – maybe you should just forget about him. Make a break for it – he'll be dead so it's not like he'll ever know you left him behind to save yourself."

I didn't expect him to answer, giving away his exact location - well, not directly anyway, but I was waiting. Listening. A smile crept onto my face as my efforts were realized, and I heard a muffled scream, followed by several cries of pain. "Oh, should have warned you about that pit. Sorry about that, Sammyboy," I chuckled. "Kinda deep, hope you didn't break anything too severely."

Counting off my paces, I came to stand at the edge of the pit, and looked down into the blackened hole. As I squat down, I pulled a silver zippo lighter from my pocket, and ran my thumb along the ridged edges, and within a moment a halo of fiery light filled a small expanse. "Smell that, Sammyboy?" I gestured around where he lay sprawled on the ground clutching hold of his leg. "Gasoline." I smirked as I waved my lighter around for him to get the hint of my intentions. "So you have like five seconds to get to your feet, an' up that ladder before I burn you alive."

I've learned that when people mention a time limit like oh, say five seconds, they never really mean a whole five seconds, or at least I never mean it. I'm more of a four and a half second kinda guy – three if I'm really pissed. "Five." It always amazes me how people will wait for that last second, thinking that there will be time added on just for them – Sam's not a waiter, his father taught him well. "Four." From the muffled cries of pain, and how he kept all his weight to his left side, I figure he broke his right leg. That really sucks for him. "Three." Okay, so I'm actually a three and a half second kinda guy. Throwing the lighter down into the pit, flames flared up, licking at Sam's feet as he scrambled up the rope ladder, scarcely breeching the surface before the whole pit was entirely engulfed. "Two. One." I chuckled, grabbing the scruff of his hair as I hastily rattled off the last two numbers. "You're real fast, Sammy," I added, hauling him to his feet. "I'm impressed, you wouldn't believe how many people haven't made it out of there."

"W-where's Dean?" Sam ground out through his groans and grunts of pain.

"He's waiting for you to save him, Sammy." I shrugged, finding extremely hard to suppress my laughter "You're doing a bang up job by the way – he'll be out of here in no time – maybe not walking out . . . perhaps in a body bag . . . but hey, you tried right? And that has to count for something."