AN: Written for the kink meme. Warnings: torture, implied non-con
Cas lost count after twenty-one days.
Of course, even the twenty-one day count was inaccurate, a blur of pain-addled thoughts and guesswork. It could have been twenty-one months, maybe, or a week. Cas hoped it wasn't a week. Becoming human weakened Cas, made him ill and exhausted even without torture to accompany it. But even struggling with Falling, Cas hoped he wouldn't be so broken after only a week of torture.
He could ask his torturer, but he wasn't sure Dean was keeping count, either.
"I think this is the most time we ever spent together. You were always running off, abandoning me and Sam when we needed you to put your useless ass in gear and help us."
"Pushed me away a couple of times, you know" Castiel rasped, raising his swollen eyes to Dean. He expected the smash of the angel blade against his head, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"You were always so defiant. That's why no one loved you. your dickbag family, your daddy, me, Sam," Dean punctuated his list with more swings of the angel blade. "You let me die, Cas."
The angel sword clattered to the floor. Dean knelt in front of him, put his hand on his chin, and tilted his face up. Cas almost craved for the touch. Almost loved it. At times like this, it was hard to forget it wasn't really Dean. Couldn't be Dean. Then again, Castiel loved and craved any touch that didn't harm him.
"You let me die. Sam and I trusted you. We treated you like you were family. And every time, you let us down. You let me die."
When physical torture failed to move Cas, Dean reminded him of us failure. This-more than the angel sword and whips and thumbscrews and anything else Dean's imagination could conjure-hurt Cas the most. But Cas heard that taunt too many times. He lived with it. He breathed it, thought about nothing else. For this moment, he was immune to it.
"You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself."
The last thing Cas knew was the hilt of the angel blade against his face, again.
Cas's eyes fluttered opened. His constant blackouts were one of the reasons he had hard keeping track of time. On a normal sleep cycle, he could count the number of times he went to sleep. But between the blood loss and the beatings, Cas had no reliable way of knowing how much time had past.
Not much time, he figured, since Dean was still standing in front of him, eyeing him like a predator."So cute when you're sleeping," Dean said. "So vulnerable. Your skin used to be pure white. Unblemished."
Dean ran his fingers down Cas's chest. After Jimmy left the vessel, some time after Raphael destroyed it, Cas took a long time to get used to the fact that the body was his and his alone. After becoming human, it took Cas a while to realize that this body was him and he was this body. Now, he was struggling with these new additions to his flesh. The bruises around his torso and long lashes on his back. Deep cuts on his limbs. Dean had violated the body in other ways Cas didn't want to think about, not because of the physical pain or unpleasantness of the memory, but because Cas didn't want to think of Dean doing those things. Or, Cas reminded himself, not Dean. Something taking over Dean's body, making the violation both Cas and Dean.
"I like you better this way. You could always do to be taken down a few pegs. How many times you've fallen from grace, and you still don't learn. Remember when you were God? Couldn't even do that right."
After all this time, Cas still wasn't over that. It wasn't the loss of power that stung Cas the most. It was the memory of the cold loneliness of Sam and Dean finding out. It was the fact that he betrayed his family, his Winchesters. He thought they would never forgive him, and he would deserve that. It took so long for Dean to forgive him. Everyone turned their back on Cas.
Everyone except Sam.
"Sam..." Cas's thought wheezed out from his cracked lips.
"Sam? You think Sam is going to rescue you? Sam doesn't care about you. You're worthless right now. Worse than worthless. You're pathetic. You're a burden. No one wants you when you're like this. At least when you're mojo'd up, you can help out a little bit when you're not fucking things up. But this? You're useless. Good for maybe one thing."
Dean chuckled and ran the blade down Castiel's body, from cheek down to his chest, and down more. Cas's head lolled limply down, but through half-slitted eyes, he could see a tall figure in the door way. A hallucination, probably.
"Sam..."
"Listen to me carefully. Sam. Is not. Coming. For-"
There was a clang, and then Dean fell in a heap at Cas's feet. Sam looked to be nothing more than a blur of fury. He dragged Dean half way across the room and then threw him the rest of the way.
Then began the beat-down. Cas kept drifting in and out, but he caught Sam landing a few well-placed kicks on Dean. But only a few. Whether he was doing it for catharsis or for subduing Dean, Sam did not lose himself to violence. He rushed over to Cas, cradling his head in his hands.
"Hey. Hey. I'm gonna get you down, OK?"
Sam's eyes were glistening with love or hope or, more likely, regret. After all, he had just dragged his brother across the room and beat him. His hands lingered on Cas's cheeks, though, as if he were hesitant to remove them even to untie Cas.
"Cas, listen to me. I'm going to hack the chains off, but I'm not going to hurt you."
He wished Sam would shut up and free him, but he was also touched by Sam's concern and unwillingness to leave him.
"I don't want to move you too quickly, or do anything that will startle you, OK?"
Sam picked up one of Dean's weapons.
"It's going to be loud, OK?"
Does he expect me to answer? Cas thought dully. Maybe it was more wishful thinking than actual expectation. Although Cas had been broken like this a few times in the past, neither Winchester had seen it. So Cas being too weak to speak must be surprising. Shocking.
Disappointing.
Castiel immediately dashed the last one from his mind. What Dean said wasn't true. Sam Winchester was a good man, who saw someone's value when they couldn't see it themselves. No, Sam Winchester was a good man who didn't look at people as valuable or not. He just saw them as worthy.
Even Cas.
The vibrations of the sword against the chains shook Cas, and Sam dispensed shaky apologies as he tried to hack Cas free. Cas wished he had the strength to tell Sam it was OK, he didn't have to apologize, Cas was grateful that Sam was even trying. Eventually, Cas felt one hand go free and then the other. He felt himself falling, but he felt two strong arms around him before he could land. Two strong arms guiding him gently down, laying him comfortable across Sam's lap.
Sam was looking at Cas with such concern. Pity, maybe, for which Cas usually wouldn't be grateful, but now, he would welcome Sam and any emotion he brought with him, even anger at Dean. Dean didn't deserve it, he wanted to say. That isn't Dean. You shouldn't have kicked Dean...
But all Cas could do was smile up at his friend. Anything to alleviate his worry. After all, seeing what Dean's became must be hard on Sam.
"I don't want to move you too quickly. I have to check you over for the extent of your injuries," Sam's hand fully cupped Castiel's cheek.
Cas was fine with that. He could lay in Sam's arms for a while. In fact, Cas wanted Sam to hold off on checking for injuries if it meant his hand would stay on his cheek, and his body could stay in Sam's lap. But that was silly and sentimental, and Cas didn't have the strength to ask for it.
Sam's fingers ran gently across his body. Dean haphazardly fixed his broken bones along the way, tended his wounds so that he could create new ones without killing his victim, but even with that, Castiel was in bad shape. He wondered what Sam was thinking as he looked at Cas's countless wounds. At least Sam would be non-judgmental, as non-judgmental as anyone could be. Even Sam's pity wasn't condescending pity, but sadness and concern.
"Oh, Cas."
Cas could die comfortably right now, right here in Sam's arms. He would probably let go, let himself fall asleep and drift away in what would be the most peaceful death he ever had, if he could stop thinking about how disappointed Sam would be if he did. Sam tried hard to save him, so Cas would not give up.
Sam's arms tightened around Cas. Something was making Sam tense up, and with every ounce of strength Cas had in him, he opened his eyes. Just slits.
Dean was crawling towards them.