Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
And the second chapter is up!
Chapter title and lyrics borrowed from Alice Cooper.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
On with it, shall we?
Try to walk away when I see the time I've wasted
Starving at a feast and all this wine I've never tasted
On my lips your memory has been stained,
Is it all in vain, tell me who's to blame
CHAPTER TWO- HELL IS LIVING WITHOUT YOU
Hell is freezing.
It always has been.
I've always thought it would be hot- that it would burn.
But I was wrong.
The frost of hell seeps through what is left of my body- strangely inflaming my wounds.
I still don't know how much time has passed.
It feels like an eternity.
I don't know anything, except that I am in pain.
Blinding, agonizing pain.
The muscles in my body lock down for impact as Alistair re-enters my room.
He is smiling, and he catches a tendril of my blood-soaked hair in his clawed fingers.
"Are you ready for round two, sweetheart? I have a surprise for you."
Alistair winks.
"I think you'll like it."
I am hideously, painfully afraid.
I have never feared, or hated any other person this much.
I blink in surprise as Alistair moves back, and I can hear the distinct sound of wheels moving.
A portable rack.
Foreboding fills me as Alistair pushes the red gurney inside my torture chamber.
I realize with a roll of nausea that it is red from the person's blood.
I cannot discern anything about him- all I know is that he is male.
I can see nothing but cuts and weals over his body.
But he looks oddly, achingly familiar.
There is something about the shape of his cheekbones, the curve of his lips...
And then I understand how much I've failed.
The person on the other gurney is Jared.
Alistair rips into my skin.
I scream.
~Supernatural~
Alistair knows me well.
It is worse, so much worse, to see him torturing Jared than being tortured myself.
I know this is all my fault.
Every time Jared screams, I loathe myself even more.
"No, don't. Please don't. Let him go," I plead brokenly.
It only makes it worse.
Cas was right to leave me- I am a monster.
I cause nothing but pain and death and misery- to both myself and everyone else.
I can feel it growing in me- the rage, the hate, the utter, encompassing fury that is possessing me.
I have never been capable of feeling this way.
Ever.
Hell has twisted my identity, warped it into something unrecognizable, inside and out.
Alistair turns on me, and I welcome the pain, agonizing as it is.
I deserve it.
Jared's eyes stare into mine mutely, and there is nothing I can do but scream as Alistair continues.
I know he understands.
He always has.
But it is not enough.
Not this time.
Finally, finally, Alistair stops working us both over, and leaves with a satisfied smirk.
"I have a checklist, you know," He grins.
The pain does not lessen for either of us when he goes away, but at least I do not have to hear Jared scream anymore.
For now.
We cannot see each other's faces in the fog.
"I'm sorry," I whisper softly.
My words burn with regret.
"It's not your fault," Jared replies loyally, and I laugh hysterically.
Not my fault.
When everything is.
I keep laughing, unmindful of the blood in my throat.
I am losing my mind.
My laughter changes into sobbing.
I cannot hold them back any longer.
The tears fall, mixing with my blood.
"You don't understand," Jared's voice is harder.
"I came to hell because of the people I've killed. I deserve this."
"Don't you dare," I snap.
"None of this is your fault. None of this would have happened if not for me."
Jared objects.
"I guess we'll just have to agree to disagree," He concurs.
I hang my head in silence.
Jared's voice is an odd mix of tentativeness and self-loathing.
"Would you understand if I said I'm both glad and horrified that you're here?"
I smile bitterly.
I do understand.
I hate the fact that he has to suffer with me, but I am shamefully grateful that I am not alone.
"I do, Jared."
I breathe out shakily, steeling myself to stay in control.
It takes all my resolve not to scream.
"How did you..." Jared spits out blood. "How did you get here?"
"By force," I say sarcastically. "Alistair has plans for me."
We both know what that means.
Jared hitches in a breath.
"How could he let that happen? Cast-"
"Don't," The word is pulled from my mouth. "Please don't."
"That son of a bitch," Jared snarls. "He promised me."
I want to defend Cas, but I can't.
I just can't.
And that hurts more than anything else.
"Jared," The words are almost inaudible.
"I'm scared. I could turn into a demon. I can feel it."
I can feel hell chipping away at me, at my identity.
It is only a matter of time.
"No you won't," Jared promises me. "I won't let you."
"How?"
I search for his face in the grayness of the room.
"How did you not change?"
His answer makes the tears prick back into my eyes.
"I thought of an anchor. My anchor to humanity, when I was a vampire. The link that kept me human."
Jared takes a deep breath.
"I thought of you."
The air whooshes out of my lungs, and I hate myself more than ever.
"I love you," I murmur softly.
And I do, but something has changed.
Jared chuckles weakly.
"I know, querida. I do too. But focus. Remember your anchor."
What is my anchor?
What is it that keeps me human, that keeps me...me?
There's really no doubt about it.
I remember rich, clear blue and upraised, dark-edged wings.
I remember a tan coat, frayed and torn and bloodied.
I have my anchor.
"Do you have it now?" Jared asks.
"Yes."
My voice is firm.
"Good. Burn it into your memory."
I don't need to.
It already is.
My answer is lost as Alistair reappears.
Fear constricts my throat.
He starts again, and the pain impossibly intensifies.
I reach out blindly, searching for Jared's hand.
My hand brushes against his fingers, and he holds onto it tightly.
Our screams weave together in a strange, twisted melody, as Alistair continues his work.
Our hands are slick with the other's blood.
The pain is excruciating.
And through it all, Jared's hand stays clamped in mine.