Dean had not been a Demon as long as Alastair, a pathetic twenty years or there a bouts, as his Mentor would say. Admittedly Alastair had probably been through a few changes in the command and what with the big daddy gone.
(Thank you, bloody Sammy and the Charmless ones!)
They were in the need of a new leader. With the exception of himself and a handful of other Demons, what was left was pretty much a bunch of useless idiots. Dean understood this but how could Alastair think that boy.
(That Wyatt the twice blessed pain in the ass Halliwell is the way to go!)
Sure people were trembling in fear, that was pleasant, but people knowing about them, that took all the fun out of it. They were either trembling and didn’t last long, or they fought back, which was admittedly more fun, but now the hunters and the witches were joining forces. It was getting more than just a bit too irritating. It was Wyatt’s fault and Sammy’s too, definitely Sammy’s.
(He had to go and be all inspirational, gathering the survivors together to fight back, bitch.)
The Demon’s problem was that, Wyatt was too powerful to get rid of, and Sammy, well he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of Sammy quite yet. He couldn’t let someone else do it either; Sammy would die by his hand, just not yet.
(Not until he tells me where he hid the Impala anyway.)
Wyatt was the immediate problem anyway, Sammy could wait. Dean looked at Alastair, who was paying great attention to Wyatt’s speech. They were currently inside,
(Castle I know what you need better than you do.)
It was actually called The Halliwell Fortress, but Dean liked his name for it better. They were there to listen to Wyatt, to agree to obey him, or die. It didn’t sit well with Dean. His mentor on the other hand looked positively captivated; maybe he was just better at faking it. You could never tell with Alastair. Dean smirked at him; his mentor turned his beady eyes on him in warning. It still amused Dean to see Alastair in that body, that short and wizen body with the beady eyes. One of Wyatt’s changes was they were given back there original bodies, restored of course.
(Not much good to his Royal I’m a pain in the ass, if we are walking skeletons, or rotting flesh. Or even better dust.)
It was away for Wyatt to keep track of them, being able to move from body to body was not acceptable. Dean hadn’t liked it at first but when he’d first came across Sammy, in said newly restored body, the utter broken look in his brother’s eyes, made it worth it. He smiled at the memory, on his other side Ruby elbowed him, she looked exactly like he’d imagined her to have looked like, a prostitute. Okay maybe he was just a little bit bitter, she had used Sammy, which was not on.
(Only I get to emotionally use my brother.)
He gave her a nasty smile; she returned it before whispering to him to pay attention. She was afraid; truth was they all were. That was why they were there. Wyatt
Halliwell may look like a college drop out in the need of a haircut but he was damned powerful. Dean wasn’t stupid enough not to be afraid but he wasn’t licked enough to just give in. It wasn’t his style. He tried to listen to the Hitler wannabe but all he heard was,
(Power is blah, blah, blah. Bow to me blah, blah, blah. If my mother was still around I’d be so grounded.)
Okay the last part he made up.
(Lucifer! Am I ever bored!)
He turned his attention instead to monitoring their surroundings, or more accurately the beings around them. It was one of the things, the gifts he received, as a demon that he excelled at, other than mayhem that is, being able to sense the auras of those around him. He sifted through them.
(Dark, darker, mindlessly dark, could do better dark, hopelessly stupid dark, light with a sliver of dark, dark, wait back up!)
Light, he found the source quickly, it was a kid younger even that the twice pissed me off. He was staring at Wyatt with a mixture, of horror, anger, hopelessness and yes love. It reminded him of the way Sam looked at him, he smirked.
(This could be interesting, now who are you kiddo, and how can I use you?)
The kid moved forward towards the stage, the guards stopped him but not as roughly as they could have, which piqued the Demon’s attention more. His need to know; who the kid was increasing steadily by the minute. Wyatt stopped his ravings to glare at the kid; he got down from the stage and was immediately swarmed by guards. Dean couldn’t make out what was going on, much to his annoyance.
(Being secretive now are we Wyatt? What’s with the special attention? What is this kid to you?)
He looked again at his mentor, who mouthed, younger brother, and rolled his eyes. Dean mulled this piece of information over in his head as he looked back in time to see the guards pull back and the kid looking stricken being lead from the room. Wyatt went back to his ravings but there was a new tension in his bearing. Dean smiled inwardly. Maybe his night hadn’t been such a waste of time after all.
(If Alastair is so set on making nice with Wyatt, maybe I should make nice with Wyatt’s little Brother. It could be fun.)