A/N: Written for one-word whump prompts on tumblr: kidnapped.
Rowena didn't know the man who kidnapped her, but she'd heard whispers of his green eyes that could now turn black, had heard of all the havoc he caused for the supernatural world, the monster blood that he was soaked in. So she wasn't surprised when he came for, subduing her, gagging her by stuffing a cloth deep in her mouth and taping it around her head, the tape painfully tugging at her hair, keeping her from using her powers. She had tried to run, but she was much smaller than him. He caught her, slamming her down onto the hotel room floor, making Rowena let out a muffled cry. Her elbows began to bleed from rug burn, and she cried out.
This man was going to kill her.
This hunter, this Winchester.
How had he found her?
Rowena cried out as he lifted her to take her from her hotel room, but that made her receive a smack in the head. Dazed, she promptly shut up.
"You want everyone to wake up?" he murmured, low voice irritated. "Jeez. Crowley didn't tell me you were this annoying."
Oh god, Crowley. Fergus. Her son.
This hunter-turned-demon knew him.
Of course he did.
Dean Winchester had connections, and he was greatly talked about in the supernatural world and with the beings of Hell. Both Winchesters were popular topics of discussion. She'd just never had the courtesy of meeting them before.
As he carried her from the hotel room and stuffed her in the back of a trunk, she really wished she hadn't.
It was dark and cramped in the trunk, and she was sore by the time he finished driving her to wherever it was he was taking her.
Rowena blinked against the flashlight he shone in her face, eyes watering, and then he hauled her aching body from the trunk. She didn't bother fighting him this time. Without her magic she was helpless. Rowena had never learned how to fight without it, had never thought she'd need to learn. Besides, even if she could she wouldn't want to take on such a well-trained opponent who was about twice the size of her.
Dean dragged her over the dew-wetted grass, her bare feet already beginning to numb in the cold. They were near the woods, and there was a rundown shack not far from them.
He took her there and tied her to a chair.
Rowena glared defiance at him even as she shivered in her lacy nightgown. He walked around her, touching her hair, observing her.
"So… You're Crowley's mother," he mused. "You're a lot prettier than I imagined." He rested his weight on the back of the chair, leaning over her, his mouth near her ear. "I always pictured some old hag with warts, especially since witches are sounsanitary. But you, you're quite the thing to look at, aren't you?"
Rowena screamed at him, voice muffled, towel thick in her mouth, nearly feeling like it was about to choke her.
Dean straightened, and then he was standing in front of her.
"Now what to do with you?"
She raised her eyebrows at him, as if to ask why he hadn't planned this far. Noticing her look, he went on, "I only captured you to annoy your son, okay? We're having a… falling out, and I wanted to irritate him."
Rowena did her best to laugh with the gag on.
Irritate him. Irritate him? If anything, Fergus would end up thankingDean.
He must've taken her muffled tone for distress because he smiled. Then he was taking out an oddly shaped blade, looking like it was the jawbone of some large animal, teeth still embedded in it. Some part of Rowena recognized it, but she couldn't put together what it was just now, fear taking hold of her, even as she continued to laugh at Dean's reason for this.
"Quiet," he ordered. He blinked, eyes turning black.
"Mm!" she got out, wishing she could tell him this was as good as he was going to get. If he wanted quiet he shouldn't have kidnapped her.
This wasn't going to get anywhere.
Dean approached, and then the blade was against her throat. He used it to slowly brush her hair away from her collarbone, and his eyes flicked downwards for a second, his lips turning up in a small smile.
"If I had different standards as a demon I might have some fun with you while I've got you tied up like this. I will admit, I want to," he breathed. "I'm curious to know what that power feels like. But why lower myself like that? I'm a Knight of Hell. I don't need to take you to prove anything."
Rowena trembled, but still rolled her eyes. Dean seemed to just like hearing himself talk.
He leaned back, taking his phone out of his pocket.
"Now, let me call Crowley and get this all sorted out."
Dean talked with her son, and instead of Crowley being furious she heard his jovial tone on the other line, Dean glancing at her every so often in shock.
Letting out a growl, cheeks flushing with embarrassment, he left her there, tied to the chair, gag still in her mouth, but not after taking his knife to her collarbone, opening up a bright red stripe of pain across her skin.
Rowena screamed, head thrown back, Dean's breath whispering across her neck, making her tingle.
And then he was gone.
Rowena would get out.
This wasn't her first time being kidnapped, and it most likely wouldn't be her last.
But she'd survived a Winchester, and that was more than most witches could say.
