Summary: A hell hound is needed to fulfill a spell. A hellhound is captured by TFW. But it turns to be more than they bargained for. Y/N becomes more than they bargained for.
Snarling, you snapped your jaws together, staring at the three men in front of you. They had you cornered against the stone wall, wicked-looking weapons held in front of them.
You had two choices. You could try to sneak back through the Devil's gate, back to a life of misery and bloodshed. Or you could try to push past them. Behind them was freedom, an idea so foreign that it scared you.
"I can't see it!" One man yelled. He was tall and lanky, his shaggy hair getting into his eyes as he glanced around the area you were cornered, never landing on you.
"Well, I can freaking hear it. Where is it Cas?" The man in the middle asked the last man, all three of them holding you in place without even knowing it.
"Right in front. Buy the headstone," The man named Cas grumbled, his voice rough, and you sensed it immediately. He was not human. Not a Demon either.
You cowered back, getting down on your haunches, ready to make a jump for it, knowing that your greatest chance of escaping was by the tall, shaggy man.
"Where the hell are your hellhound glasses?" Cas exclaimed. "They would be very helpful right now!"
Your chance at escaping was quickly disappearing when the other two men pulled out glasses. You had heard of these glasses. Stories passed through the rankings of Demons. About brothers and their friend who used holy fire to spot monsters like you. Hell hounds. The scourge of the underworld. Deadly with teeth sharper than knives and claws that could shred through a human's skin like it was paper.
Your heart pounding, you tried racing past the tall, skinny one, but he already had his glasses on. "I've got it!" He called, flinging himself on top of you, struggling to hold you as you fought for purchase in the frozen ground. "Help!"
His wicked-looking blade knicked your thick skin, and you whimpered in pain, immediately freezing. It surprised all three of the men, who stared down at you before handcuffs were pulled from a pocket. "Dean, do you really think those will hold a hell hound?"
The man, Dean, just shrugged. "Sam, It's the best thing we have. With that and rope, it should do the trick."
Finally, you knew the name of all three men who were around you. Capturing you and taking away the freedom you had wanted for so long. The handcuffs were loose on your joints, but with the rope, you were bound tight. "Something doesn't feel right," Cas, the being you hadn't figure out yet, spoke up, cocking his head to the side as he stared at you. "This was too easy."
"Sometimes easy is a good thing," Dean muttered as he and Sam picked you up. "Now we'll get her to the car, you close the gate."
You watched as your only way back was sealed up before you were being shoved into a dog kennel that was much too small. Your head banged, your shoulders scraped against the rough plastic as the door was slammed shut. The rope still tight around your legs, and you couldn't move an inch. Whimpering, you could barely see through the bars as Dean climbed into the driver's seat of the car. Cas sat beside you, Sam in the passenger seat.
"So, we've got the Hell hound," Dean sighed as he pulled away from the graveyard. "Now what?"
"We need its blood," Sam explained. "That's what Rowena said. We get the hellhound, and use its blood to create the charm."
"Why couldn't we have just killed the hound back there and put its blood in a vial?" Dean grumbled. "What if it claws the upholstery?"
"It's a girl," Cas spoke up, surprising everyone. Your eyes connected with his through the bars, and you whimpered again. "And I still don't think something's right."
"Of course it's not," Dean agreed. "We have a freaking hell hound in baby! I'll never be able to get that smell out of here."
"No, it's more than that," Cas insisted, his hand inching closer to the cage, where your head was. You growled and he pulled it back, his eyebrows narrowed in frustration. "I think we need to tread carefully here."
You listened to them arguing back and forth. You wished you could talk. To tell this Cas that he was right. But you could only watch him closely as the car sped down the road.
The sky was an inky blue, the sun slowly starting to rise when the car finally came to a stop. Sam had been sleeping in the front while Dean drove. Cas continued to stare at you, his hand never moving close again, but you could feel the curiosity coming from him. You just wanted to know what he was as much as he wanted to know about you.
Dean pulled the Impala into a darkened room, stopping in the middle before shutting off the engine. In your cage, you were pretty much blind to your surroundings. But when your cage was lifted up, you saw older cars, in an interesting looking garage.
"Honey we're home," Dean muttered, picking up the other half of your kennel, struggling to carry it with his brother.
"Oh, how sweet," A Scottish accent purred, female and full of venom. "I trust you were able to procure the goods?"
"Rowena, use your eyes," Dean sighed.
You were rudely dropped onto a table, banging your head onto the heavy plastic. You snarled and snipped at their fingers. Dean cursed, stepping back, still wearing his glasses.
"I don't have glasses on dearie," Rowena answered back. "I trust it's in there."
"Rowena, do you feel something different about it?" Cas asked, stepping to her side. "It gave in too easy and hasn't fought back. Something feels wrong."
"No, but I've never worked with a hell hound before," Rowena answered. "I have the spell ready. I just need her blood."
"Her?" Both Dean and Sam exclaimed.
"Why yes. This little hell hound is a girl," she said in her thick accent. Before you could move, she stuck a needle in your thick hide, filling it full of your bubbling, black blood. "That should do nicely."
You watched as she emptied the syringe into a thick stone bowl. Smoke, almost blue in color, wafted up as she chanted in Latin. Everyone watched as she waved her hands over the smoke. Minutes ticked by, and she glanced down in dismay.
"Why didn't it work?" Dean growled, his voice low.
"It should have worked," she puttered. I did everything right. Are you sure this is a hell hound?"
"What other snarling beast is invisible," Sam answered sarcastically. "Of course it's a hell hound!"
"But what if it's not," Cas interrupted, turning everyone's attention to him.
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