I hope you guys like it!
~ Trapped ~
Rowena MacLeod had had a hard life, but she was content with what she'd made of herself.
After years and years of failure, she'd decided to open an occult shop, hoping to earn at least some money; her expensive gowns and jewelry weren't going to pay for themselves, and her teenage son still had school to finish – if he finished it at all, considering the way he'd been acting ever since he started hanging out with those impudent hooligans he called friends.
There were also costs of property he had a tendency to damage, though ever since she'd become friends with that annoying, but incredibly handsome policeman, Fergus appeared to have cleaned up his act.
Rowena thought he might have developed a crush on officer Winchester. Her son's bisexuality was no secret. As far as parent-child relationships go, they weren't close; he'd only told her he was bisexual because he thought she'd be outraged and he wanted to push her buttons, and was, for lack of a better term, crestfallen to find that she was actually rather open minded when it came to sexual preferences.
Fergus, however, never openly admitted his crush. For all she knew, he could have simply admired the man. Still, Rowena had her theories.
Much to her amazement, her small shop had grown quite successful and soon enough she was able to expand it, turning it into a fancy place occult fans from all over the country, as well as plenty of tourists, loved to frequent.
Unfortunately, with popularity came crime, and it wasn't long until thieves started showing up and trashing her beloved shop.
That was how Rowena had become acquainted with the kind officers. There were three of them, partners, all assigned to her part of town.
Castiel Novak was strange. Rowena rather enjoyed talking to him, for the look of complete and utter confusion on his face every time she'd utter a phrase he was unfamiliar with (and with her being Scottish and proud, that was quite frequent) was priceless. He'd always cock his head to the side, frown, and politely ask her to repeat what she had said. This in turn would prompt her to roll her eyes and mumble something rude in Scottish that he wouldn't understand; but she was always somewhat amused by his lack of familiarity with pop culture references and Scottish slang.
Sam Winchester was tall, freakishly so, as she had let him know multiple times by calling him "giant" whenever he'd annoy her, which happened quite often. He was kind, very professional, but stern when needed. She didn't appreciate the way he spoke to her at times, how he rushed her while she was giving statements or pressured her to tell him things she'd have rather kept to herself (every little detail helps, he'd said plenty of times, with emphasis on detail).
However, she understood that he was only doing his job and always did her best to cooperate – even if that meant admitting to some things you really shouldn't admit to to a policeman. That, however, didn't mean she didn't roll her eyes here and there, and uttered a few sarcastic remarks that earned her his signature bitchface she'd taken a strange liking to.
The third officer, Dean Winchester, Sam's older brother, was a peculiar one. He was tall, but not as tall as Sam. Muscular, but nowhere near Castiel. His forest green eyes were a few shades lighter than Rowena's, complementing his short, dirty blond hair. He was the one who always challenged her, who never failed to respond to her sarcasm with even more sarcasm and who was never, not once, afraid to speak his mind.
When she'd be a bitch, he'd openly tell her to tone down the bitchiness. When she'd lie, he'd make sure to point out that lying to him was only going to hurt the likelihood of them catching the people who'd vandalized and robbed her shop.
There was also that one time he suspected her of murder and he didn't let their acquaintanceship stop him from grilling her like he did all the other suspects.
Rowena hated him for that, hated him for making her shake in anger to the point of crying that day, but she also admired his dedication. The man loved his job and was damn good at it.
And, as much as she hated to admit it, she'd developed a certain fondness for the blond officer. Sure, he was a stubborn pain in the arse with the manners of a Neanderthal and the dining habits of a toddler, but there was something about him that made her want to push him against the nearest wall and fuck the living daylights out of him. Perhaps it was his good looks and charm, or the fact that he, unlike many others, challenged her instead of walking away with his tail between his legs.
It wasn't one-sided, either. She'd caught him checking out her ass plenty of times, and whenever she'd wear a gown that'd show a generous amount of cleavage, he'd have trouble keeping his eyes locked with hers. Flirty smiles and winks were a common occurrence; he behaved like that around all women, but would try really hard around those he found attractive, which only further fueled her darkest fantasies.
Not that she'd ever dare act on them.
Rowena's eyes filled with dread as they met her boyfriend's angry ones. They sure seemed innocent, those beautiful baby blues, but there was darkness in them; darkness Rowena had become accustomed to ever since their relationship evolved from a casual fling into something more serious.
Lucifer Shurley was a dangerous man whom not many dared cross. His blond hair was messy, a few shades lighter than Dean's. Combined with those baby blue eyes, it made him look strangely sweet, almost angelic, but Rowena knew better.
Before it was all flowers and expensive little presents. He took her out to expensive restaurants and took her shopping to the most exquisite of boutiques. He told her he loved her every single day, made promises he swore to keep, and treated her like a queen she always thought of herself as.
It was when he moved in with her and Fergus that the problems started. At first he'd just scream at her. She'd scream right back; Rowena wasn't one to walk away from a fight, especially when she'd be blamed for something that couldn't possibly be her fault.
That worked the first few times, but soon he started getting even angrier at her retaliation and would spew horrendous threats and insults until she'd shut her mouth and lock herself in the bathroom to escape his deadly glare.
Everything would always be fine the next morning. He'd make her breakfast, kiss her cheek, and act like the perfect boyfriend he used to be. But Rowena knew – she knew he was far from that perfection he presented himself as.
He'd used his charm to draw her in and, once he felt secure enough that she wouldn't leave, he'd allowed his true nature to surface, trapping her in a net she couldn't escape even if she tried. By this point, she was too afraid of him to even think of leaving, let alone actually attempting to.
The first time he hit her was when she, as usual, talked back to him after he called her some of the many nasty names in his rather impressive vocabulary. She was left speechless, stunned by the suddenness of the slap. Shooting him a glare, she once again locked herself in the bathroom and cried her eyes out until she fell asleep sitting with her back pressed against the door.
It started happening more frequently, and soon she could barely cover the bruises with makeup. Fergus, perceptive as ever, had noticed the change in his mom. There was no love and devotion to her demeanor when she was with Lucifer anymore. Now she looked at him with fear, and flinched whenever he'd make a sudden movement.
Fergus may not have been the best student, but he was bright. He could see what was going on. He'd told her countless of times how stupid she was being, and at times even resorted to crying and begging her to leave. He didn't seem to understand why she couldn't simply kick Lucifer's sorry ass out and free herself from his terror.
Rowena, herself, couldn't understand it. She knew perfectly well how grave the situation was, yet something deep inside her was holding her back. By now, Lucifer's grip on her was too strong for her to fight it. She was trapped in his web of abuse and there was no escaping.
It was then that Fergus had started to stay out late again. It took them years to repair their broken relationship, and her newest hookup, as he'd called it, had managed to ruin that. There were times when he'd disappear without saying a word, and when he'd reappear days later, he'd simply gather some clothes and snap that he'd stay with friends for a couple more days. Which friends – he never said. Rowena didn't even bother to ask anymore, for all attempts she'd made at learning anything from him had been futile.
A part of Rowena was glad he was away from Lucifer. Her boyfriend had never hit her son, mostly because Fergus, unlike her, knew how to hold his own and didn't let someone he considered a stranger push him around. Still, him not being at home meant he didn't have to listen to their arguments. He didn't have to look disappointed every time he'd defend her from Lucifer's violence and see her crawl back to him the very next day, acting like nothing happened.
If she had to lose him to keep him safe, so be it. Perhaps it was what she deserved for neglecting him for most of his life, blaming him from his absent father's crimes. She was a terrible mother and she paid the price. Maybe this way, by letting him come and go as he pleased, she could make up for being such a disappointment.
This night was the same as any other. Lucifer came home late and, without a greeting, started screaming at her for not making him any dinner. At the very start of their relationship, she had made it perfectly clear that she didn't, under any circumstances, cook. That didn't stop him from getting in her face, waving a forefinger a threatening manner and calling her things even she would be too ashamed to say.
"Make yer own fuckin' dinner!" she shouted at him, shoving him away. Just because she lost most of their fights didn't mean she couldn't put up a fight of her own. Her hard life had taught her to never falter, never show weakness in the face of danger. "I'm not yer servant!"
"I worked my ass off all day to afford those rags you call clothes! I don't think a dinner is too much to ask!" he exclaimed, face red with anger.
"And what do ye think I've been doin' all day? Ye seem to have forgotten I have a shop to run!"
"Think I don't know what you were up to? That lover boy of yours was here, wasn't he?" he accused.
Rowena frowned in confusion. "What're ye talkin' about?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Rowena! I've seen the way you look at that cop. Dean Winchester, is it? I'm not dumb. I know you've been fucking him behind my back."
Out of everything he'd said to her, none had ever been as outrageous as this one. Her and Dean? Yes, he was handsome, and there was obvious mutual attraction, but she would never dare cheat on Lucifer. She valued her life too much to do that, for she was certain her boyfriend would kill her if he was to find out about the affair.
And he would find out. Lucifer always knew everything, saw everything. He could read her like a book; she could never hide anything from him, and if she tried, it wouldn't end well for her.
"Ye're insane!"
"Am I? Am I really?" He grabbed a hold of her chin, fingers digging into the sensitive flesh.
Rowena shuddered, chills of dread creeping down her spine. She swallowed, breaths fastening, heartbeat racing, her eyes locking with Lucifer's in an intense stare. This wasn't going to end well. The look in his seemingly innocent eyes was that of pure anger – it was only a matter of time before he exploded with rage and did something she'd tell herself she'd never let happen again.
But she would, because she was weak, and she was in too deep to dig herself out right now, after months of enduring his torture. He'd trained her well, turned her into his faithful little puppy who took everything he threw at her without having the heart, or spine, to leave.
"The moment I saw you, I knew you were a whore, Rowena. I knew it, but I still gave you a chance. You know why? Because I liked you. I saw potential in you." He leaned forwards, face so close to hers that their noses were almost touching. "I should've known you aren't worth it. A whore like you never changes."
Rowena's eyes narrowed in anger. How dare he tell her that? It was no secret that she'd had plenty of lovers, but she was no whore. She was perfectly aware of her attributes, aware of how attractive and desirable she was, and had no problem using it to her advantage when the situation called for it.
Her body – her rules. It would be a shame to let a perfect weapon like that go to waste.
"Fuck ye," she hissed, her tiny hands firmly pressing into his chest to push him away.
He swung his hand at her, his palm connecting with her cheek in a sharp, painful slap. "How dare you lay a hand on me?"
Rowena brought her hand to her cheek, cradling the bruise that was beginning to form. Burning with anger, she glared at her boyfriend, quickly regaining her composure. She was sick of this; sick of his abuse, sick of his violence, sick of everything to do with him. She may not have had the strength to leave, but she sure could stand up for herself, even if it killed her.
"How dare I lay I hand on ye?" The irony of his comment wasn't lost on her. "How dare ye?"
Without thinking of the consequences, she slapped him right back, her long, perfectly manicured nails grazing the surface of his skin. Blood pooled atop the small, light scratches, a single drop sliding down his reddened cheek.
"I've had it with yer nonsense!" she snapped, voice trembling as she spoke. She may have gathered some courage, but she was still scared of him. Lucifer was an intimidating man; his tall, muscular form could crush her tiny one without breaking a sweat. She was under no delusion that she could win this fight, but she sure as hell could put up a struggle. "I'm not yer punching bag, Lucifer. This has been goin' on for far too long. I want ye out of my house right this instant!"
It was time she took care of herself once again. She wanted him out of her life, far away from her as possible. She wanted her old self back, and she wanted her son to trust her again, like he had before Lucifer showed his true face and started pushing her around like she was nothing but a doll for him to play with.
Growling, Lucifer threw a fist at her. The force of the blow knocked her straight down, and she yelped as pain shot through her body, burning hot and strong.
"Think it's gonna be that easy, red?" He smirked at the sight of her writhing on the floor. "You're nothing without me! Nothing!"
He placed a well aimed kick to her stomach. Rowena screamed, instinctively curling into a fetal position before she pushed herself up on her elbows and started crawling back. Dread spread across her face, sucking all the visible anger into oblivion and replacing it with fear of things to come, things that he would do to her.
Lucifer wasn't one to be crossed, especially when he was blind with rage.
"Ye're wrong," she told him, her voice a tad softer, almost a whisper in comparison to what it was just a moment ago. Seeing him like this always frightened her, made her scared for her life. She could be as brave and strong as she wanted; but once he started throwing punches, the courage vanished.
Lucifer followed after her, one foot after the other in a slow, careful swagger, a look of pure amusement crossing his features.
"Am I? Look at yourself."
He motioned to her trembling form resembling a wounded, cowardly puppy.
Perhaps that was what she was – a coward who couldn't stand up for herself. A miserable nobody who didn't have it in her to throw a stranger she'd been living with out of her house. A shallow shell of a person who used to have it all, and was now afraid of her own shadow.
No, she told herself, remembering the day Fergus' father left the hospital after she'd given birth, promising to come back, but doing so, never bothering to even lay his eyes on his son. She was scared then; scared of being a single mother, scared of all the responsibilities and obligations. Scared of making the wrong choice and ruining both her and her child's lives.
She didn't let those fears define her. She pushed through life with her head held high and raised her child as best as she could. She'd made plenty of mistakes, said and did things she'd grown to regret, but she made it. Her son was a man now and, even if she refused to admit it, she couldn't have been more proud of him. She had her own successful business and lived the life she'd always dreamed of. Life was good.
Long ago she promised herself she'd never be weak again and she meant to keep that promise for it was the only bit of strength she had left in this darkness Lucifer had imprisoned her in.
If she could raise her child all on her own, without even thinking of asking anyone for help, let alone accepting it, she could stand up to Lucifer.
"Pathetic!" he spat venomously.
"Ye're right – I am pathetic," she said, looking him dead in the eye.
A single tear slid down her cheek, smudging the caked blood adorning her chin.
"I've put up with yer bullshit for months. Any other woman would've already kicked ye out. But not me – no, I kept givin' ye second chances, thinkin' ye'd change. Because ye love me. I'm yer queen. Isn't that what ye've said?"
She let out a small chuckle.
"I actually believed that. That is pathetic."
She slowly raised herself to her feet, the stinging in her abdomen making her hiss. There were going to be bruises later on. She could already picture them, big and purple, covering the entirety of her stomach and ribs.
The price of dating Lucifer Shurley.
"But I've had enough. I don't want ye in my house. I don't want ye anywhere near me and my son. We're done, Lucifer. Ye can hit me, beat me, throw me around. Ye can do whatever ye want to me, but that won't change the fact that I loathe ye."
She got in his face, scowling at him in mad fury.
"I've loathed ye for a while now. I was too much of a coward to say it to yer face before, but I've got nothin' to lose anymore. Fergus already hates me. I hate myself, as well, for never havin' it in me to tell ye to go fuck yerself. Well, I have it in me now and that's exactly what I'm tellin' ye." She took a short breath before hissing: "Go. Fuck. Yerself."
Lucifer gritted his teeth then, in a swift movement, his hand was around her neck, pushing her back against the wall. She gasped as strong fingers pressed into her sensitive skin, squeezing hard enough to leave her struggling for breath.
"I'd watch my tongue if I were you." He stared her down like a vulture securing its prey. "I must admit, though, I underestimated you. Didn't think you had it in you."
He brought one hand to her bruised cheek, giving it a caress that was almost affectionate. Rowena shuddered at his touch, her heart beating so fast she thought it would explode. All her courage from a moment ago was gone, replaced by sheer agony. He was going to hurt her. He was going to hurt her bad, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
A part of her was glad she managed to stand up for him, but the other, saner part chastised her for opening her mouth. She should've taken what he'd thrown at her and locked herself in the bathroom, like every other time they'd gotten into a confrontation.
No, she told herself. She was in the right here. He had no right to hurt her like this, no right to push her around and abuse her. If there was anyone who should have felt guilty, it was him.
"I always knew you were a clever girl," Lucifer continued. "But, sadly for you, not clever enough. You see, Rowena, I'm a selfish man. I don't like to share. If you think you can kick me out just so you can cozy up with that lover boy of yours, you are gravely mistaken. You're mine. I've claimed you. I own you. You belong to me. And if I can't have you, sweetheart, I'll make sure that pig can't, either."
Rowena whimpered, tears pouring down her rosy cheeks. She should have known it wasn't going to be that easy. Lucifer was possessive; if he'd claimed her as his, that was what she was, and there was nothing she or anyone else could say or do to make him change his mind. There was no doubt in her mind that he would act out on his threats, and she was damn sure he would act on them brutally.
"He's not my lover," she choked, hoping to all deities that he believed her, but she knew it was futile. Once Lucifer made up his mind about something, there was no changing it. He decided that she was a cheater, that Dean Winchester was her lover, so, in his twisted, deranged mind, that was the truth.
"Don't lie to me!" he snarled, giving her neck one final squeeze before releasing it and slapping her across the face.
Rowena yelped, taking in large, deep breaths through the stinging pain in her face. Just when she was about to mutter a reply to his claim, he hit her again, this time with a fist, and her head flew sideways, connecting with the wall with a loud, painful thud.
She screamed, which only seemed to anger him further for he hit her, hard and strong, once more. She fell down, her tiny body slapping against the hardwood floor. He didn't give her time to recover before straddling her and pinning her wrists down, the look on his face that of complete madness.
"You're a dirty whore, Rowena, but you're my dirty whore. I'm not letting you go," he whispered threateningly.
"Please," she begged, her split lip trembling. The iron taste of blood burned on her tongue. "Don't hurt me."
Lucifer smiled in what could only be described as sweet, sadistic satisfaction. "Oh, it's please now." He chuckled at his bad, over the top impression of her thick accent. "No more go fuck yerself. No more I loathe ye. Just please. Don't hurt me." He scoffed. "You are so miserable, Rowena. If only your pig fucker could see you now… Think he'd still wanna be with a weakling such as yourself?"
He was right, in a way. If Dean could see her now, he'd probably laugh at her. He'd consider her weak, a waste of his time. Unlike him, the strong, fearless policeman, she was just a wee girl who, despite denying her weakness and claiming to be proud, couldn't even get her boyfriend to leave her alone. What chance did she have with a man like that?
She was shaken out of her thoughts by another slap. Lucifer grabbed a hold of her hair, yanking her head up to his face. She hissed, eyes narrowing as they met with his in a defiant stare that was supposed to be brave.
How brave could she look, with welts on her face and blood pouring down her nose? She had fooled herself into thinking she was something she wasn't, and now she was paying the price. In a way, Lucifer was her karma for all the horrible things she'd done just because she could, because she thought it gave her power, when in actuality she'd only been fooling herself into believing a lie that would never come to truth.
A lie that she was something when she was really nothing.
"When he leaves you, and I know he will," Lucifer continued, "you'll come running to me with your tail between your legs, begging me to take you back. Because that's who you are, Rowena – a worthless, useless, whiny little bitch. Your pig will see that."
With that he gave her another slap that made her head spin, then got to his feet and, after a final kick to her ribs, headed for the door.
"I'm going out for dinner since, y'know, you didn't make any." He smiled, and in that moment he looked like he did before his violence surfaced – kind and loving, a perfect, doting boyfriend every woman could only wish for. Like the horrific violence he'd inflicted on her had never happened. "I'll see you in the morning, sweetheart."
Rowena just stared straight, afraid to move a muscle. She stared at the closed door; stared at expensive, exquisite wood that formed it. Stared at the place where Lucifer stood just mere moments ago.
Then, as the reality of him being truly, honestly gone dawned on her, she wept, loudly, madly, curling into a fetal position. The sudden movement hurt, but she paid no attention to pain. She just wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them to her chest like a child craving comfort.
How did it get this far? How did she let it get this far? She didn't deserve this – no one did! After all the hardships she'd endured in her lifetime, she was supposed to be happy, supposed to enjoy her hard-earned wealth and live out the rest of her days in harmony.
Not be abused by a two-faced maniac with daddy issues.
The bitter silence of the large house ate away at her desperate cries before they slowly died down, fading into gloom nothingness that surrounded her. Nothingness that was the entirety of her being, the core of her existence.
Lucifer was right – she was nothing without him. Who would want a pathetic creature such as her? Even her own son avoided spending time with her. She'd managed to lose the last bit of spine she had, and it cost her dearly. She had no family to turn to, no friends to trust. Just herself, and considering she was the one who fell for Lucifer's lies and didn't have it in her to kick his sorry ass out of her own house, that wasn't much.
She knew one thing – she had to do something before he killed her for she had no doubt in her mind that he was capable of it. His actions these past few weeks proved it. Only, what could she do when everyone she trusted abandoned and betrayed her?
One name instantly popped into her mind and Rowena shook her head at the mere thought. No way, she told herself. There was no way in hell she was going to ask him for help.
"If only your pig fucker could see you now… Think he'd still wanna be with a weakling such as yourself?"
She almost chuckled. Lucifer had a point there. If Dean saw her like this, he'd probably laugh in her face. A weakling such as her would be waste of his time.
Wouldn't it?
Dean was a policeman. His job was to help people in need, to assist them and make sure that justice was served. The two of them were prone to sarcastic banter and nasty quips, but, when she gave it some though, he'd never thought her weak. Not once had he sent her a wrong look or said the wrong thing. Not once had he pitied her or insulted her out of sheer malice. They snarked at each other, yes, but that was all in good fun.
Dean Winchester was a gentleman. She'd never witnessed him mistreat anyone, let alone a victim of a crime. Hell, even when he questioned her when she was a murder suspect, he never mistreated her.
And he wouldn't mistreat her now.
Gathering all her remaining strength, she pushed herself to her feet and limped over to the bathroom, locking the door behind her and leaning against it for support.
Was she really going to do this? Was she ready to trust Dean Winchester with her darkest secret?
She almost chuckled at her misery. It's not like she had any dignity left. Lucifer made sure to suck every last bit out, leaving her an empty, faded shell of a person she used to be. That signature pride of hers was long gone, having disappeared the moment she let Lucifer lay a hand on her without putting up much of a fight.
She found Dean's number in her contact list and pressed it, bringing the phone to her ear. She managed to calm down a bit, but she was still trembling like an addict aching for a fix. Perhaps that was a good thing – if she was upset, Dean was less likely to question her, and right now she really wasn't up to going into details about what happened.
The only thing she wanted was to get away from Lucifer, to get away from his violence and threats. She could talk later; right now she just needed to get to safety, and Dean was the only person she could count on.
"Hello?"
The sound of his voice made her stiffen. To be honest, she didn't expect him to answer that fast. The last time they saw each other, she gave him attitude that he didn't appreciate and in turn he said some things that made her fear he wouldn't even bother to come.
Well, it was worth a try. It's not like she had anything to lose.
Breathing hard, she uttered: "Dean?"
"What do you want?"
He was clearly still bitter, but there was no malice to the tone of his voice.
"Ca-can ye come over to my house?" she choked, tears once again spilling down her face.
Sensing the pain in her voice, he quickly grew serious, petty arguments forgotten in an instant. "What happened? You okay?"
So he really did care. The thought prompted her pull on a small smile. "I need help."
"I'll be right over."
Just as he ended the call, Rowena burst into tears, her loud cries echoing throughout the house.
This story is a gift for my dear friend BewitchedSquirrel. She ships Dean and Rowena and loves rescue themes, so I figured I'd combine them. She's the one who introduced me to The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus' song Face Down, which inspired me to write this story. Hope you enjoy it, hun!
I would like to thank my bro zoe19blink for helping me with editing and grammar. I'm extremely grateful for your help! I couldn't have done it without you!