~*****~

"He could have kept her hidden down here for years," I mention as I help Dean break open the dumbwaiter. "Kept her fed. Nobody would ever know." As soon as it breaks open, the stench rolls out. My stomach roils for a minute, but I stuff it down before leaning into the hole. "Danny!" I shout. "Danny?"

"Watch out, I'm going down--" Dean grasps my hips and hauls me backwards.

"No, that's my son--" Brian tries.

"I know it is." Dean retorts as he stops him from moving closer. "But I said that I would get him. I will. Let me." Dean grasps onto the edge of the dumbwaiter and feeds himself inwards. Once he's propped on the sides, I hand over the flashlight.

"Be careful," I urge as Dean begins the climb downwards. I turn to look over my shoulder. "Sam, Brian-- go get some rope-- curtains, I don't care." I explain.

"Right," Sam nods and hurries out of the kitchen with Brian on his tail. "Got it-- got it--" Sam says as he and Brian rush back in.

"Good--" I feed it through the dumbwaiter and peer inwards. A boy peeks his head through the hole. "Danny! Loop yourself through the curtains, and hold tight!" Danny nods and slips it over his head. "Pull!" I shout as I grasp onto the curtain beneath me and start tugging.

"Come on, buddy," Brian coaxes we continue to pull. "Don't look back, Danny. Just don't look down." He grasps Danny under his shoulders and hauls him out, hugging him tightly. "Come on. I got you. You okay?"

Danny nods quickly and buries his head into his fathers chest. "Get him out of here," I say harsher than I intend. I curl my palm over my belly again, staunching the bleeding from the reopened wound. "You got to go-- hurry."

"Dean?" Sam calls as he peers through the hole. A gunshot goes off and I stumble to the dumbwaiter.

"Dean!" I call louder.

"Take the baby-- here--" Sam unstraps the harness quickly and hands her over before leaping into the dumbwaiter himself. Mary whines impatiently as I curl her away from the dumbwaiter to peer inwards.

~*****~

By the time morning hits, everything has calmed down. Brian killed the Rebecca's daughter in the end to save his wife and daughter after he'd taken his son out of the house. I lay sprawled in the front seat of the Impala, my legs hanging out of the door, still healing the wounds I'd sustained from the two demented children of the house.

"Thanks for the head start," I hear Dean sigh as I sit up.

"Why doesn't it surprise me you guys don't like the police?" Brian questions.

"Sort of a, uh..." Sam trails off. "Mutual appreciation thing, really."

"Well, thank you." Brian says as he extends his hand to Sam and Dean. Susan thanks them as well.

"You okay?" Dean asks her.

Susan sighs softly before shaking her head. "No. We're the opposite of okay." She admits. "But... We're together. Thanks." She smiles at us, and with a nod of her head, her and her husband travel back to the house.

After a few hours on the road, we stop on an old underpass to eat. Mary stuffs ripped up bits of food into her mouth as I settle her on the car hood and perch besides her. "You okay?" I ask Dean as he sets his burger down.

"You know, I felt for those sons of bitches back there." Dean sighs. "Lifelong torture turns you into something like that."

"You were in hell, Dean." I say softly. "Look, maybe you did what you did there... but you're not them. They were barely human."

Dean nods sullenly. "Well, you're right. I wasn't like them. I was worse. They were animals, guys, defending territory." Sam and I exchange worried glances as Dean speaks. "Me... I did it for the sheer pleasure of it."

"What?" Sam asks after we share another confused look.

"I enjoyed it, guys." Dean admits. "They took me off the rack, and I tortured souls, and I liked it. All those years... All that pain... Finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because the f-- that pain I felt... It just slipped away. No matter how many people I save... I can't change that. I can't fill this hole. Not ever."