A Down Moment Of Sorts(Invite Only)

[Jilak]

(OOC: Right so, Mugen and I for now, ask one of us if you want in and we'll discuss it, knowledge of Supernatural/Danny Phantom would be cool, you know the drill.)

In retrospect Castiel probably should have given William a bit more of a warning. Admittedly, while bending his knees would save him from feeling the brunt of the teleportation, it wouldn't help if he hit a wall or something. After what had happened last time, though, Castiel had been prepared. While he was still a bit off, the four had at least landed in an occupied room... unluckily for the patient who nearly had a heart attack. Surprisingly, though, the nurse present treated it as if it was a day to day thing, calmly picking up what seemed to be a communicator and contacting a doctor.

"New arrivals, room 34B, most of them in need of serious medical care." She said, in an almost bored tone. She promptly exited the room, presumably to gather supplies of some sort.

Castiel had held on to Daniel for dear life. He didn't want to drop the boy upon landing, and it was a good thing, too. Daniel's trajectory, due to his position, would have been so altered that he would have crashed into a wall, while Castiel landed, face first, on a bed, with Daniel still safely on his back. Sam hadn't been so lucky, crashing into a wall. Unfortunately, it was the injured shoulder that he'd forgotten was injured. He groaned, body refusing to get up, just sitting there for a minute.

"Dean...!" He called out, weakly, from his position on the floor. "William!"

[mugenginga]

William was overcome with terror as the area around him vanished from site. He'd ripped himself free from Castiel's grip somehow mid transit, meaning that when the group appeared in the hospital room, he wasn't with them. Dean had collapsed onto the floor as soon as he had materialized, and had once again passed out. Even unconscious he seemed to almost be trying to cough. Then again, it really had been the only option he hadn't been capable of running.

Regardless of his conditino, William still wasn't there.

[Jilak]

Following this brief reverie wherein Castiel noticed William's absence, hospital staff poured into the room. Dean was quickly, but carefully, lifted onto a stretcher by two rather muscular young men. Sam was about to get to his feet as well, before he was FORCED back down by one of the gentlemen. Had he been at full health he could have likely taken both of those guys, but as it was... not so much. Castiel felt Daniel be lifted from his back... followed by someone spinning him around and giving him a good, solid, punch to the jaw. No human was that strong. Even if he wasn't at full health, Castiel was still all angel. Punching him would be like punching a brick wall, but here he was being knocked to the floor. Looking up at his attacker, the other male staff member, he noticed two... pitch black eyes.

"GET OUT OF HERE, THEY'RE-" Castiel attempted to call out to the rest of the, presumably human, staff. The fellow that had punched him promptly covered Cas' mouth with his hand, putting a finger to his lips in a 'shush' motion. The man promptly backed up, and Castiel nearly leapt at him, but he... dropped a match, for some reason? Castiel quickly saw why as the ring of liquid around him caught ablaze. Holy fire. Never a good thing.

Sam himself had his hands full, having gotten a couple more head-splitting blows. His vision was foggy and he was reeling before his attacker finally ceased and the nurse in the room spoke.

"You two. You'll stay behind for questioning." She said in a relatively snide tone.

"What?! You think WE did this?! WHY?" Samuel asked, making his best attempt at an indignant tone. It didn't sound nearly as indignant as it did in his head, due to his jaw beginning to swell.

"HE saw you." She pointed behind her. In walked a well-dressed fellow, seemingly a businessman of sorts. He smiled. Something about him made Castiel's skin crawl.

"Winchesters. Finally dissolved into in-fighting, I see." His accent placed him somewhere in New York. Maybe Brooklyn.

[mugenginga]

Dean hadn't woken up during the entire event. The fact was he probably needed to be hooked up to a machine. The extended activity had turned his severe case of walking pnemonia into full blown. Even if he was conscious he wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing.

There was no sign of William. If he was in the building, he was not near by. Castiel was in no condition to sense him if he was capable of that sort of thing what with the oil and the beating and all. One of the muscular men seemed to actually be taken Dean's pulse, and the gentleman who had grabbed Danny seemed to have just finished checking on his vitals as well. The one beside Dean looked up towards the Brooklyn-accented man.

"What did you want us to do with the older Winchester?"

He stepped to the side to give the man a clear view of Dean. The man needed medical attention, but would have quite a bit in the way of difficulty to putting up a fight to anything they could come up with. Even if they didn't go any of those routes, his condition could also be useful to forcing Sam to respond to their questions. If Sam chose to delay, it was his brother's life he'd be gambling with.

Codependance is fun, isn't it?

[Jilak]

The author would like to take a moment to discuss accents. There are many types of accents in the world, after all. There are many type in the universe, really. But this fellow's, it was interesting. It was absolutely terrifying, when it shouldn't have been. Under any other circumstances, Sam would be laughing his ass off. Come on, the guy sounded like a bloody ninja turtle. Raphael, specifically. But then, that all hinges on whether or not you perceive Raphael's accent as one from the region this fellow's host was from, but honestly, the turtles reside in New York. So, shush. SHUSH I SAY.

In any case, Brooklyn, as we'll call him, turned to the other two demons. He paused for a moment, turning a momentary stare on Dean. Sam felt an odd compulsion to take him while his back was turned, but, even ignoring the fact that he had no salt or iron or the Colt on hand, the big guys would've owned him in moments. All he could do was wait, now, and hope Castiel had a plan. That was another thing, Cas. What the hell? They'd caught him in some sort of... angel's trap. Sam had never read anything about that. He'd have to ask Castiel about it later.

"Hook him up to a machine, fix 'im up. Your orders are to keep the Winchesters safe. Until... well, you know." Brooklyn responded, his tone giving away his complete annoyance at the entire situation. Castiel decided now was as good a time as any to speak up.

"Orders from whom?" Castiel asked, getting as close as he could to the flame without actually touching it.

"You talk quite a bit for a trapped angel. I bet you haven't even told our boy here why you can't. Don't even trust the Winchesters with your weaknesses. You angels. So... pretentious." Brooklyn responded, without looking towards Castiel.

"...Cas? What's he talking about?" Sam asked from his position on the floor.

"It's... holy oil. No angel can touch a flame lit on a ring of holy oil without dying. Except the Archangels, and even then it'd slow them down. I'm trapped. But they're trapped out. Breaking the ring long enough to reach me would allow me time to escape. And you don't look powerful enough to kill me from where you are, so what's your game?" Castiel asked, eyes narrowing. Brooklyn smirked in response.

"You know somethin', I like you. You got motsy. You're kinda stupid, but motsy you got comin' out the wazoo. And you're right, I don't have a way to kill you short of risking my own life or the lives of dumb and dumber over there. But you know what I can do?" Brooklyn paused, pulling out a knife, cutting his wrist. Castiel's eyes widened as he wrote some sort of sigil on the wall behind him with his own blood. He turned back to Castiel, smirk growing into a malevolent smile of sorts.

"I can banish you." He slammed his hand down on it, and in a flash of light, Castiel was gone. Sam had shielded his eyes, having gotten used to bright flashes of light wherever Cas was involved. But that still didn't explain what happened.

"What the hell just happened? What did you do to him?! WHERE IS HE?" Sam asked, leaping at the man, grabbing by the collar. The other two moved in Sam's direction until Brooklyn put up a hand, stopping them.

"Angel-banishing sigil. Not many demons know it, but... I know a guy. Pays to be in good terms with the King of the Crossroads. As for where he is, I dunno. Normally he'd be sent back to heaven, but this place doesn't seem to have a heaven. Oh, but it has quite the fantastic hellhole. He could be anywhere. But you already know that, don't you, Sammy?" It was Brooklyn's use of the term 'Sammy' that pushed him over the edge. Sam punched him, square in the jaw. He barely twitched, instead dropping his hand. One of the other two landed a good hit on Sam, and it sent the younger Winchester down for the count.

"We'll take good care of your brother, Sam. Don't need him dying quite yet, don't worry. Can hook you up too, if you want. You seem pretty beaten up yourself there." Brooklyn stated, voice oozing with glee.

"Go to hell, you son of a bitch." Sam responded, spitting at the demon's feet.

"Your loss, kiddo." Brooklyn responded, lighting a cigarette. It was a no smoking zone, but obviously the staff didn't mind much... being that the closest staff members were demons...

"I'm gonna kill you, you son of a bitch." Sam stated, struggling, even now, to get back to his feet. But it was futile. He'd taken too much, more than he'd taken in a while. And he was tired.

"Maybe. But not today." The last things Sam saw before blacking out were the fist slamming into his face and Dean being lifted onto a stretcher...

--

It was a few hours before Samuel finally came to. The room was deserted, the other patient having been moved out at some point. Or maybe he was never there. Maybe he was a demon. Sam didn't know, he didn't care. The first thought that came to his head as he sat up was Dean. Well, no, that's not true. His first thought was how much his head hurt. His second thought was a question. Why was he in handcuffs? His third thought, however, that was Dean. He bolted upright, struggling against his handcuffs. The other end was connected to the bed which was... nailed to the floor. This would be a tricky one.

"Cas? Dean? DEAN!" Sam called out, struggling against his bonds. Now where was something he could pick this lock with...

[mugenginga]

One of the two demons from before was standing in the room Dean was in. His eyes had returned to human norm, and he seemed very bored. Hell, the man was sitting by Dean's bed reading a book. Dean was attached to the bed by a single handcuf on each wrist, clasped to the bed guards to either side. He was hooked up to a machine and his pulse was stable.

And then he came too with a great gasp and a series of mucusy coughs. The man sitting in the chair next to his bed gave an annoyed look up as Dean shot up into an upright sitting position before trying to practically yank his arms out of their sockets due to the handcuffs. His eyes widened and he attemped to let out a shout of surprise, only to give another coughing fit he couldn't even cover.

"You're not in any danger," said the demon with a bored voice.

Dean jerked his head to the side at the voice, his entire body screaming with flu-like soreness but Sam first and foremost on his mind, "What the hell is this?! Where the hell is Sam?! Cas?!"

[Jilak]

As Samuel Winchester felt around for something to pick his cuffs with, a sound came to him. A voice. A very familiar voice. A voice he'd not heard for hours now. A voice that was rather comforting in this time.

"Sam." The voice called. It was rather calm, even, emotionless. So much like the individual that it belonged to. As this transpired Sam found what he need. A needle. It was rather Spartan, but it would serve well enough.

"Find your brother, Sam. Find Dean. Run." The voice continued to call out, urging him on. As if on cue, Sam managed to pick his cuffs, freeing his hands. He looked around, scanning. As comforting as the voice was, what he needed right now was the man it belonged to, now more than ever.

"Cas?" Sam called. No response. The voice seemed to have been coming from everywhere, anywhere, inside his head, and just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Had he imagined it all? In the current events, had he begun to go insane? No time to worry about that now, he rushed down the hall. If there was one thing hunters didn't do, it was dwell on things. As he rounded a corner, Sam noticed a nurse. In a split second, he'd tackled her.

"Where is he?! Where's Dean?!" Sam exclaimed, forcing his hand to her throat. The nurse looked absolutely petrified, almost human, and it nearly caused Sam to release her. But he knew in his gut that he was right...

"I don't know what you're talking about-" She began, before he pulled forth a salt shaker from his pocket, forcing a few droplets into her open mouth. She screamed, her eyes going pitch black.

"Where did you get that?" She seethed, glaring at the younger Winchester.

"That's none of your business. I'm not going to ask again. Where's Dean?" Sam asked. The nurse pointed to his room on a nearby map. Not too far from here. With a quick sprint, Sam would be there. He looked back down at her. Couldn't leave her there, she'd warn others, or try to stop him... but then a thought occurred. Looking up, he noticed a... Devil's Trap? That would explain why she hadn't tossed him off, but who had drawn it there? Cas? But... Cas wasn't there, how could he... Sam decided he would think about it later, getting up and rushing to the direction pointed out to him.

Once he reached the door, Sam realized there were two ways he could have gone about this. One was more subtle, but the other, the one he chose, was kicking the door down.

"Dean!"

--

John Winchester had, after much walking, finally reached the hospital. It hadn't been extremely far away, but his years were finally starting to catch up on him. Walks like this got harder every day. But he still put his feet to the grind, because it was the hunter way. He pushed open the front double doors, entering a rather chaotic hospital. There weren't many people around the front, but the place was a bit of a mess. Presumably from the earlier earthquake. He approached the desk, deciding to take the direct approach.

"Can you tell me where I can find Dean Winchester?" He asked. It was silly of him, really, but it was worth a shot. After all, Dean wouldn't let himself get hurt so bad he'd have to be admitted to a hospital, right?

"Room 29B." The individual responded, lazily, not looking up from his paper. He had a rather distinct New York accent.

"Uh, thanks." John said, turning and walking down a corridor. He'd have to do a fair bit of walking to get there from the front of the hospital, but it would be worth it to see his boys again. First thing he'd have to find out was why the hell they had themselves admitted to a hospital.

Due to his back being turned, John wouldn't notice the individual eyes turn pitch black. He looked into a chalice he'd hidden behind his newspaper, speaking into it.

"All of the pieces are in place, Crowley. Yes. Yes sir. Immediately, sir."

[mugenginga]

As soon as the nurse was out of Sam's sight, she'd be able to move again. It wasn't that the trap had broken, it was that it had weakened,. as if someone was drawing the power out of it somehow. And not just that, it was also boosted by the demon using the nurse as its host gaining strength. A short middle-aged man stepped out of the door next to her and looked up at the trap that she would now be able to get out of.

"You're not useful if you're stuck there," the man said with an annoyed expression, "I'm not busting you out if you get stuck again."
-----

The demon in Dean's room was on his feet before the door hit the wall. His book went flying, and landed on the other side of Dean's bed. Dean had attempted to jerk up, but was impeded by both the handcuffs and another coughing fit. It sounded like he was trying to say something, but it was completely impossible to understand through the coughs. His eyes were wide with surprise that Sam was there.

The demon felt a surge of energy, and he smirked at Sam's figure in the door. Zandor was doing the job Crowley had assigned him, it seemed. The man popped his knuckles, while Dean tried to slip his wrists through his shackles between coughing fits. His heart monitor indicated a raised pulse, and he thought that if he got out the first thing he was goign to do was smash the annoying machine.

[Jilak]

"Yes sir." The now-freed nurse responded, giving a slight bow to the man whom had returned her freedom. He was right, of course. If she were to let a stupid mistake she made interfere with Crowley's plans, he would be furious. And she'd rather not have the king of the Crossroads upset with her. She was turning to return to duty, the man having continued on, when something slammed into her chest, forcing her back into a wall. Rocksalt pellet. Looking up, she was brought face to face with John Winchester, the man hurriedly performing an exorcism.

"Son of a-" These were the last words she uttered before her head fell back, her mouth opening, a black mist being expelled. The former host's body fell limp. John wasn't entirely sure she was still alive, and he didn't really have time to check, hurrying down the hall. Demons. That wasn't a good sign.

--

Sam took up an offensive pose. There wasn't much else he could do. He was out of salt, there was no iron near, he didn't have any holy water prepared... he'd have to do what no individual in their right mind did. He'd have to fight a demon in a battle of fisticuffs. He was completely out of options at this point. He was stopped, however, by a voice from the door.

"Careful, Sammy." Turning, Samuel saw his addresser. A short, balding man in a rather marvellous suit. He spoke with what sounded like an Irish accent.

"Who the hell are you?" Sam growled. He was past his breaking point.

"There's the Sam we know and love. It's been a while. Oh, but that's right. You haven't told Dean yet, have you? Haven't even told your big brother what happened back at Stanford." Continued a man next to him, chuckling. Sam grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, forcing him against a wall. The other demon poised to attack, but the shorter fellow raised a hand, stopping him.

"Watch your tongue, Egnew. We're not here on a personal call."

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't send you back to Hell." Sam seethed.

"Firstly, because you can't. Secondly, because I have the Colt." The shorter man spoke up, pulling free the gun in question.

[mugenginga]

Zandor had stepped into the room he'd come out of after freeing the ally. It was only a few seconds later he heard a gunshot, and he raised an eyebrow. Hail, hail, the gang's all here. The Winchesters would probably underestimate the situation though. After all, who would expect the demons to be a degree or two stronger than they should be. Zandor smirked as he sat down and crossed his hands behind his back, looking at the ceiling. And Crowley was strong enough without the guided boost...

-----

The first thing on Dean's mind was Sam. The second thing on his mind was that his chest was on fire. The third was that he wished he could spit some of the mucus out of his throat, he didn't like the idea of swallowing it back down. He was trailing off his coughing fit when he heard an unfamiliar voice. With a wince and a rather skillful twist of the body, he turned and looked through his blurred vision (the coughing had kicked up tears) at the strange man at the door.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted, yanking at his cuffs again as Crowley told Egnew to stand down.

Dean heard a different sound from before that caused him to freeze up. Was his thrashing actually working the cuffs loose? Beyond that, his hands were bloody from his attempts to yank free... blood made good lubricant, so he had two things going for him. He was almost growling as he tried to slip his hand or break the cuffs free when he heard Crowley mentioned the Colt. He paused and jerked his head, his eyes wide.

"You're the bastard that threw us here, aren't you?!"

It wasn't that Dean hadn't heard the comment about Stanford. But right now it was the least of his concern's. Sammy was in trouble and if he couldn't get loose he could be dead. He'd have another coughing fit before Crowley could respond.

[Jilak]

"Not me, unfortunately. I was involved, sure, but it wasn't my idea. Some yellow-eyed chap strolled into Hell, said he could get rid of the Winchesters. I figured it would be a nice chance to meet the three most unimportant people in the world." Crowley responded, turning to Dean, giving a slight smirk.

"Let me tell you, you Winchesters sure aren't as smart as I thought. You've been doing everything I've wanted you to since you landed here. Dean giving Sammy his covers, which led to him getting pneumonia, got him out of the way for us. If the two of you had been one hundred percent along the way, this might have been more challenging. But your older brother's not looking too good now, eh Sammy?" Crowley asked, returning his gaze to Sam.

"What do you want?" Sam asked. It was a legitimate question, really. He was honestly quite curious as to what Crowley's game was.

"I want you to take this gun, and I want you to kill this yellow eyed bastard." Crowley responded, holding the Colt to Sam. It was rather jarring, and caused a pause from the man. That wasn't the response he'd expected. He cautiously took the offered gun, pausing for another moment.

"This is the real Colt?" He asked, incredulously.

"Of course it is. I'm a man of my word. Well, demon." Crowley responded, hands behind his back. Sam proceeded to hold the gun to Crowley's head, pulling the trigger. It elicited a click, and... nothing happened.

"Oh, right. I should probably give you more ammunition." Crowley continued, false surprise in his eyes. Sam frowned, not trusting the man before him one bit.

"Why would you want us to kill the demon?" Sam asked.

"Because, genius, he was strong enough to cause a rift in space and time and push you through it. He's a threat. Truth be told, I'm not even sure he's a demon. So I want you to eliminate the competition." Crowley responded.

"And you. You can stop fiddling with your cuffs, my men have been ordered to release you once a deal is struck. So, how about it, Winchesters? You going to step out of dear old dad's shadow and kill the demon that killed your mother?" Crowley asked, smiling.

"Dean?" Sam asked, turning to his brother. It seemed a legitimate enough offer... but then again, Crowley was a demon.

[mugenginga]

Dean's eyes widened as Crowley mentioned the yellow eyed demon. He'd thrown them in here? Hadn't he said something about being upset over Sam getting away, and now he had tried to kill all of them? Well they were alive, but not exactly well... he coughed a bit more, breaking visual contact with his brother and the demon with the Colt. He stopped in time to hear Crowley claim he was responsible for his pneumonia.

"You don't expect me to believe that," Dean said, his attempt at sounding intimidating somewhat collapsing. He needed to recover, but this wasn't exactly the best situation for that.

Dean was coughing again when Sam took the Colt. He was actually overdue for another round of medication, but things weren't exactly condusive to getting him that at the moment. He came out of it in time to hear the click, and although his vision was once again blurry he could guess what had happened. He held his breath to try and stifle the coughs to listen to the conversation. So he heard Crowley address him. He responded with a sick glare, it wasn't really all that intimidating.

"What about Daniel? And William?" Dean demanded. Not that he trusted the demon, but they were running out of options. And between the angels and the demons, Dean had pretty much thrown his hands in the air and decided to go with it for the time being.

[Jilak]

"Daniel is sleeping soundly in the next room. His injuries, while pretty extensive, were easy to patch up. For the most part, that is. The best doctors Hell could find couldn't fix whatever's wrong with his soul. It seems to have been... patched together. Even I'm not entirely sure what the bloody hell he is." Crowley responded.

"And as for William... well, last I heard, an old friend of yours has his mitts on him." He finished, chuckling. Sam was about to ask him exactly who he was speaking of, when another individual burst into the room. Sam half expected it to be Castiel, but was instead faced with John Winchester. He was filled, for a moment, with joy at seeing his father again. It was soon crushed as he pulled free a shotgun, likely loaded with rocksalt. While Crowley was a demon, he was currently their only source of information. And knowing John...

Sam's thoughts were soon confirmed, John firing his gun. Crowley and his minions were gone before the pellet left the barrel, leaving a very confused John looking around, with running a hand through his hair in frustration.

[mugenginga]

Dean glared at Crowley with his taunt. Somehow it didn't seem a lie, not with everything else going on. Dean and Sam would have probably run over each other with their demands as to what he meant when the door flew open. Dean's eyes widened and the surprise sent him into another coughing fit. It was only with sheer stubbornness he attempted to keep his head towards the door as John cocked his gun and tried to blow Crowley away.

About the only thing that had gone remotely right that night happened then. The way Dean had been forcing himself to keep an eye on his father and where Crowley had been moments that the angle snapped one of the handcuffs. Dean came out of his coughing fit and looked at the bit of metal hanging around his bloody wrist. He reached over and began fiddling with the other one, while still keeping an eye on John.

"Dad, you're okay! How'd you..." Dean let out another cough, taking his free hand and covering his mouth with it, "How'd you find us?"

[Jilak]

"You kiddin' me? Big earthquake centered on this hospital? Giant paw print in the wall? I know my boys. Figured you'd be here, fightin' whatever caused it. What I didn't expect was to find Sammy holdin' the Colt. Got it from that demon, I imagine. Did a nice job back there." John responded, smiling. Sam, however, looked at John with an almost... questioning expression.

"Dad... on the way in here, did you see a man about... Dean's height, with a five o'clock shadow, maybe wearing a trenchcoat?" Sam asked. As nice a moment as this was, they couldn't exactly break yet. William was apparently with one of their 'old friends', as Crowley had put it, Cas was God only knew where, and Danny was possibly incredibly injured.

"Didn't see anyone but a demon or two. Why, what's wrong?" John responded, noting Sam's expression. It quickly softened, the younger Winchester smiling ever so slightly.

"Nothing, I'm just... I'm just glad you're okay." Sam responded. The two embraced each other. For John, this was one of the best moments of his life. His sons were okay. For Sam... not so much. As happy as he was that his father was alive, John had come in before Crowley could reload the Colt. Without ammunition, it was useless.