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"Rise and shine, kid."
The kid jerked awake at the shock of a cold glass of water to the face. He spluttered, sending more drops scattering over his jeans and tee, and tried to lift his hands to wipe his eyes, only to find them bound tightly behind his back.
Jack smirked. There was no way those knots were giving anytime soon.
Shaking his head, the kid looked up at him and squinted as he tried to focus. "The fuck are you?"
Jack slapped him. "Watch your mouth," he told him. If TV had taught him anything, it was that you needed to be firm with your kidnap victims.
The kid recoiled at the slap and Jack taunted, "Never thought your father would've stood for language like that from his kid."
The kid's eyes narrowed. "What do you know about my dad?"
"Plenty," Jack said happily. "John Winchester's a hard man to forget. I know all about you too, Dean. And that little brother of yours. How old's Sammy now? Twelve? Thirteen?"
Dean's jaw clenched but Jack was surprised by the confidence in his voice when he said, "Not like it matters to you, is it? You'd never be able to get anywhere near Sam and you know it."
Jack swallowed. Of course he'd considered taking Sam first - the youngest was always the best target and it would've been easier to deal with a little twelve year old than a bigger seventeen year old - but he hadn't been able to get close enough. Nevertheless there was no way Dean could know that. He was guessing.
"I don't know," Jack said. "I've got you, haven't I?"
Dean smirked, pulling on the ropes again. "For now." He winked at Jack. "Good luck keeping me."
"Give it up now," Jack said. "You're not getting out of those ropes. I was a Boy Scout leader for fifteen years - I can tie a goddamn knot."
Dean looked like he was trying not to laugh. "Boy Scouts? Seriously?" His expression shifted to one of disgust. "Man, you're not one of those ones who-"
"No," Jack said sharply. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to defend himself against accusations of molestation from the kid he'd just kidnapped but it seemed important.
"Oh. Good," Dean said with a nod. "I don't really want to get badtouched by a Scout dude if I can help it."
"That won't happen," Jack said. He wasn't sure how reassuring his kidnap victim had become a prority. "I just need your father to return an artefact of mine that he's stolen and I'll let you be on your way. Can't say fairer than that, can I?"
Dean stared at him with a look of utter contempt. Jack wondered if he should slap him again.
"You really think my dad's going to just hand over dangerous magic to the guy who kidnapped his son?" Dean asked in disbelief. "Wow, I knew you were batting with a low average but I didn't realize you were that fucking dumb."
Jack did slap him again then but Dean laughed through his wince and kept talking.
"You have any idea what happened to the last guy who tried something like this? Dad caught up to him, broke his nose, snapped four of his fingers, and shot two rounds of salt into his gut." Dean's eyes never left Jack's as he said, unconcerned, "I don't know if the guy even survived. But hey, maybe he managed to crawl to the hospital quick enough."
Dean paused, looking at something over Jack's shoulder, and a chill went down Jack's spine at the smile which spread across his lips. "So, Boy Scout, what do you think your chances are?"
Braced for a fight, Jack whirled around, gun raised but frowned when he came face to face with his own door. "What-"
Dean's voice was closer when he whispered, "Surprise."
Jack spun back around and was met with a fist to the face. He fell hard, gasping as he hit the floor, and looked up to see Dean unwinding the ropes from his wrists with a sigh. "How-"
"Man, if you think I can't get out of Boy Scout knots, you really don't know my dad." Dean flashed him a smile and pocketed Jack's gun and knife.
"If I see you again, I'll kill you," he said simply. Jack watched him scan the room once more before crouching by his head and saying quietly, "Oh, and I lied about what my dad did to the last guy who tried this." Jack didn't have time to be relieved before Dean whispered in his ear, "It was me."
The kid's fist came down again. The last thought Jack had before he blacked out was that he was lucky.