Walt Versus Dean
BA Canon: No || AU
Timeline: 2005 (The same week Dean and Sam reunited in canon BA)
(Part 4 of 5 )
Dean frowned at the small man he’d captured. It had been over ten minutes since the blonde haired man had said a word, or even acknowledged that Dean was there. Tapping at the glass had only brought on a brief flicker of fear before annoyance pushed that away, and then the man had turned his back.
With an internal shrug, Dean turned his attention to the bag that was held in his hand. It was small, and well worn. Clearly something that was made to be used, and used often. Wondering what the hell was in it, he fiddled with the small straps holding it closed.
The motion attracted the attention of the small man once more. He stiffened at the sight of the bag held between thick fingers.
Dean dangled it closer to the vase. “Want to just tell me what you’re doing here? That way I don’t need to take this apart?”
A small glare was leveled at him and the man turned away again. But this time, Dean noted that he was still turned enough towards Dean to be able to track the hunter’s movements from the corner of his eye.
Dean scoffed. “Suit yourself.” He stood, going over to his duffel to dig out a needle. It was shoved in with his med-kit items, used for either stitching his clothes up or stitching himself up depending on the day.
He sat back down and scooped the bag back up. This time, he carefully played with the clasp, trying to undo it without just shredding the bag apart. He had no idea who this man was, after all, or if he was any type of threat. If he had no reason to destroy the small workmanship, he had no intention of breaking it.
It was only a few minutes before he got in. Flipping it open, he frowned as a trail of thread slipped out, attached to a… is this a paperclip? he thought wonderingly. He lifted it out, staring at the strangely twisted paperclip. It was almost…
“Did you turn this into a hook?” Dean asked in surprise.
The man turned back to him, eyes briefly wide at the question. But it didn’t seem harmful… “Yes…” he begrudgingly let out.
Dean put it down on the tabletop, with the string still attached. “Holy crap,” he said quietly. That was inventive, but he couldn’t imagine using it to climb with. What if it slipped off? A paperclip couldn’t be the most stable climbing tool… he hid a shudder at the thought of dangling in midair at the mercy of a cobbled-together tool like that.
“Y’know,” he said conversationally. “Something like a fishhook might be a bit better for climbing with. Something that you don’t have to worry about bending when you’re using it.”
That got the man to turn all the way around, suspicion in his small eyes. “Why’s it matter to you? ” he bit out at Dean.
Dean stared back at him. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he pointed out as he shifted the bag and its contents back over to the vase. “I need to know what you are and if you’re dangerous. Then I can either let you go, or…”
The man glared at him. “Or you’ll kill me. I know how hunters work.” He turned away once more and crossed his arms. “I know how far you’ll go.”
Try as he might, that was the last Dean was able to get out of him for the night. Walt was trapped in memories of the hunter that had tried to kill him in the past, combined with those humans taking away his daughter. There was no way he’d get out of this one, not twice. All of his luck was used up on the first rescue.
He was only glad that Sam hadn’t been the one captured.
|| Part 3 )