(1/2)
Dean knew that he didn't have any idea what he'd be walking into. That was a given and he wasn't stupid enough not to be aware of the horrible deficit he was in. Crossing unfamiliar terrain toward an unknown enemy whose end game could just as easily be gaining another prisoner than participating in this self-help exorcism Cas had messaged him about, and it didn't make for pretty odds. But nothing in the past year had been pretty, that dead year filled with more loss than Dean knew he could handle until his life became a one man mission to reclaim the scattered remnants of his broken family. He'd traveled miles, scoured through states for any sign of hope when he'd been surrounded by so much reason to doubt and finally, finally Dean had thought he'd reached the end. The prison, safety wrapped up behind bars that contained one of the most important things to him...
If anything Dean knew that he could continue now because Sam was back there somewhere behind bullet proof glass and walls of reinforced concrete. Hell with the way their last conversation had spiraled so helplessly out of control this was probably better for both of them in the long run. Staying close but separate and not dragging Sam along on what might have felt like a suicide mission if he'd allowed himself that much. But Dean couldn't do that, not if he wanted to survive the next assault and put his enemy down in a controlled enough manner not to alert even more residents of the projects that an outsider and snuck into their midst. He was already dragging slightly on the left, a previous attack from above taking him down hard and unaware before Dean had managed to shove Ruby's knife into its gut, not wanting to take the chance that there were any more demons lurking in the shadows just waiting for an easy kill. The creature had garbled out a pained groan, bearing an impressive set of razor sharp teeth before Dean had introduced him to the kicker, a 13" stainless steel curved dagger with a rear blade. Perfect for hooking the kill and dragging them closer or further away before a forceful twist of the wrist severed the head almost cleanly from the body. It had been a relic, long since unused in the weapons trunk hidden in the spare tire compartment of what had been his dad's Impala, but it had served him since the zombie rising making decapitation the main method of protection.
When he'd rolled the dead weight off of him and forced himself to stand Dean had felt something sharp and hot twist in his left leg but he'd pushed through it, sinking back into the small margin of cover the nearly dilapidated building next to him managed to offer. As far as he could guess from the mental map he'd hastily created from a rough sketch he'd seen of the projects back at the prison he'd just made it through the crop of buildings along the outskirts of the territory. It was something but Dean knew he had to make his way to its center, his only clues coming from the saved messages from Cas on the smartphone he'd be given when his own 'stupid phone' had been unable to connect to the network that came from who knew where. He tried using what he had to make a locator spell, the remnants of which still littered his bed in the cell they'd assigned him, but either the magic was too weak or Cas was too well guarded. He knew there had been other supernaturals that might have helped if he'd asked for it but after the stupid fight with his idiot kid brother Dean hadn't felt friendly enough to ask so right now he was going in blind.