When he comes to again, he's lying on the floor somewhere. His face is pressed against the cold tiles uncomfortably, limbs bending at awkward angles as if someone had carelessly dumped him on the floor and let him stay like he had landed.
Castiel slowly blinks his eyes open and groans at the soreness in his neck. He gets his hands under himself and tries to lift himself up, elbows buckling under him and he falls face first on the floor again.
He hisses when the tiles hit his cheekbone and he can almost feel the bruise forming.
He blinks and decides to stay down for a little while. His limbs feel uncoordinated and his mind his foggy and sluggish.
There's something he should be remembering. Something important about what happened that has to do why he is currently lying on the floor and not in his comfy bad in the Roadhouse. Castiel scrunches his eyes closed and tries to concentrate as best as he can.
The last thing he remembers is kissing Dean and watching as he laughed at Cas when his eyes stayed closed a fraction of second too long, after Dean had pulled back.
And then. . . something. Something had happened. Something with Samandriel and awful loud noises.
He tries to get up again, coaching his brain into making his limbs move accordingly. This time he manages to sit up, and have a proper look around the room.
It's dark and his eyes take a minute to adjust.
It's a fairly large open space, by what he can see. Only one high window at the farther wall, which his letting moonlight stream in at an awkward angle.
Castiel carefully gets up and wobbles slightly on his feet. He opens his palms at each side of his body, facing down, and he lets his body find its center again and adjust to the gravity pulling him down towards the center of the earth.
When he thinks he's okay again, he takes a step forward, towards the window. There's something bothering him. His ankle. There's something heavy on his ankle.
Cas takes another step forward and his immediately held back by something clutching his ankle tightly.
He gasps and reaches down to touch cold metal circling his ankle, a heavy lock binding it together and a string of intertwined iron links bounding him to something. The wall probably.
Cas' breath quickens and he traces his fingers along the chain connected to the shackle. He follows it carefully, letting the cold metal pass through his hand until he reaches a wall.
And just like that images of what happened rush through his mind and he can't breathe. Jesus fuck! He can't- he can't-
He starts hyperventilating. He slumps against the wall and lets himself slide down, entire body shaking and starting to sweat profusely. The part of Castiel brains that still functions, makes him put his shaking hands on his knees and head between his legs, forcing himself to steady his breath.
He needs to stop, adjust and prioritize.
Samandriel must be here somewhere. Cas takes a deep breath and slowly gets up again, hand splayed against the wall, so he has something to ground him and to catch him if he happens to have another freak out.
"Samandriel." He whispers carefully.
No answer. Nothing.
Castiel clears his throat.
"Samandriel." He tries again a little bit louder.
A whimper, somewhere to his left. Castiel's head snaps towards the source of the sound.
"Sam." He says again "I'm coming for you." Castiel lets the wall guide him as he moves carefully. Feet barely leaving the floor as he walks towards his friend, his brother.
"Talk to me Sam." He demands, trying to guide himself by the sound of the kid's voice.
"Cas." It's barely a whisper but it's there. Close.
"I'm right here. Don't worry." He tries to reassure him as best as he can.
His foot touches something soft and Samandriel whimpers slightly, chubby hands wrapping around Castiel's legs as soon as he's within reach.
Castiel sighs relieved and blinks a couple of times, willing his eyes to see the kid. All he can see is Samandriel's silhouette.
"Let go of my legs, so I can sit down." Castiel commands calmly, prying Sam's hand off his legs and carefully sitting down.
The chain that bounds him to the wall is almost stretched fully, giving Castiel little comfortable positions in which he can sit.
Samandriel is on him the instant his butt touches the ground.
Little hands wrapping around his neck and fat tears rolling down his cheeks, as he hides his face in Castiel's neck and cries.
Castiel pats his back and shushes him, saying that it will be okay. And even to his own ears it sounds like a lie.
They stay like that for a while. Samandriel clinging to him and Cas propped against the wall trying to keep his shit together.
"I'm sorry. My fault, my fault. It's my fault." Samandriel starts babbling.
'Yes, yes it is' Castiel thinks although he doesn't say it.
"Not anyone's fault." He forces himself to say, because it's the right thing and he can't blame a six-year-old for panicking.
"But, Cas-"
"Shut up. I told you already. Not anyone's fault." He snaps.
Samandriel nods his head and gulps down, climbing out of Castiel's lap and settling beside him against the wall.
They don't talk. Hours pass by, and Castiel remains in the same position. Samandriel falls asleep against his shoulder and Castiel remains awake, staring out of the far away window. Too small and too high to be possible for someone to climb through.
He watches as the moonlight changes in angle and the day stars anew, sunshine crawling through the window, and slowly rising in the horizon just out of Castiel's sight. No one comes for them.
Castiel looks around the room carefully, now that the sun is high enough to let light shine upon the room. It's fairly large with tiled walls and tiled floor. 'Easier to clean off the blood' something in the dark corner of his mind that he doesn't like to visit supplies helpfully.
He tells it to shut up and takes in the rest of the room. The wall they are sitting against is lined with hooks, only two of them put to use with iron chains that link them to the shackles around Castiel's and Samandriel's ankles.
There's a link of handcuffs hanging from the roof in one side and table about five meters away from it. Castiel squints at it, and his eyes go wide when he realizes that the stains splattering it are blood.
He inhales sharply and Samandriel stirs beside him.
"Cas-" he mumbles.
"Right here." He assures the younger boy.
"I'm hungry." Samandriel complains uselessly.
"I know." He's hungry too, but there's not much he can do about it, is there?!
Samandriel quiets for a minute, while Cas studies the stairway on the right wall. And he briefly wonders which one of the families got them. Heaven or Hell?
A little voice that sounds suspiciously like Dean snorts about a stairway to Heaven and Cas smiles.
"What do you think will happen to us?" Sam asks quietly.
That depends on who got them. If they're in Heaven then they'll probably be brainwashed and turned into good little soldiers. If they're in the Hell part then they can end up in slavery, sex rings, money laundry or soldiers.
Instead of telling this to little Samandriel he says "I don't know."
He's heard little snippets of conversation between Bobby and Ellen to know that Heaven is falling. They're much more interested in overthrowing Hell than in being actual mafia. Sure they have their shady business, dirty cops under payroll, but it's in no way as big as it used to be. A reign of clouds trying to protect their heritage, even though the king had long ago left the building and the two princes were at a loss of what to do.
"I need to pee."
Cas makes a face. This isn't going to be pleasant.
"Try not to want."
Sam clenches his fists and wiggles a little on his spot.
Castiel is so tired. His nerves are on edge from the waiting. He doesn't know what'll happen next and it's driving him mad.
"I really, really got to pee." Sam wriggles some more and Castiel sighs.
"Just-" he looks around and there's a railing in the middle of the room that probably leads to the swears.
'They use it to flush out the blood' Castiel shakes his head and tells that part of him to shut the fuck up.
"Just see if you can reach there and aim."
Samandriel gets up and shuffles forwards, getting as far as the chain will let him. He stands a meter or so from the drain and it's too far and the aftermath of this is going to be gross and stink like hell.
Samandriel throws a look over his shoulder and makes a face.
"Try not to dirty your clothes." Cas advises.
He turns his head away when he hears Samandriel's zipper open and starts humming the lyrics to some song. He sings 'Sweet Child of Mine' and remembers Dean humming it once or twice distractedly. Dean hummed a lot, songs Cas knew and songs Cas had never heard about. Gabriel likes to sing at the top of his lungs to get a rise out of Cas. Balthazar sung sometimes, some frensh thing twisting the words in his tongue with an impeccable accent and giving the finger to anyone who complained.
Castiel stops humming.
His eyes sting, and he can't cry in front of Samandriel because if he loses his shit, Sam will lose his shit and if Sam loses his shit again it'll be fucking hard to put his shit back together.
So Castiel doesn't cry. He tips his head back and blinks the tears away.
Samandriel turns back to him with his nose wrinkled and he sits next to Cas again, leaving a little more space between the two of them.
They stay quiet for what feels like hours. The sun starts crawling down of the sky and still no one comes for them.
Samandriel falls asleep again, because there isn't much to do anyway. Castiel remains awake, watching the light shift through the window and day give place to night.
No one comes for them. Castiel is hungry. He's starving and he hasn't eaten in a little over twenty four hours. Rationally Castiel knows that the human body can withstand several days before dying of starvation, but of thirst you can die in just three.
Castiel read once a book about how they broke someone and stripped him down of everything he ever was, re-making him to their image. He remembers that one of the things they used to break him was starvation and physical abuse and sleep deprivation, all of which are also used to break marines in war zones.
If they use any of these methods in here, then Castiel is certainly not looking forward for what comes next.
Samandriel wakes up next to him and complains about his hunger and thirst before he goes back to sleep.
Castiel keeps quiet and waits for them to come, like he knows they will.
He's leaning over the wall, he has barely moved all day, saving his energy for when it really counts, and he's exhausted. His body is used to have at least nine hours of sleep, and he's still awake.
Castiel scoots down and lays on the cold floor, shivering slightly. He uses his arms as a pillow and closes his eyes. Not sleeping, he just needs a couple minutes to rest. Just that. A couple minutes. He can't sleep. He tells that to himself a couple of times, willing the sleep away.
Castiel falls asleep anyway. And of course that's when he's asleep that they come.
He's startled awake by the loud noise of a door being thrown open and little hands digging into his bicep. He quickly sits up and looks toward the staircase.
There's heavy footsteps coming down and Cas puts himself between the people coming and the boy.
The first thing he sees coming down from that staircase is a shiny pair of expensive black shoes, followed by a pair of clicking heels and another set of shiny black shoes.
He immediately recognizes Zachariah, the first one to come down, with bugged eyes and a shark-like smile that sends a shiver down Castiel's spine. A woman follows him, in the same grey suit with a white dress shirt underneath and hair tightly pulled into a bun. Not a hair falling to her forehead or out of place. Behind her comes a larger guy, with a look of utter disgust in his face as he looks around and wrinkles his nose. If Castiel had to guess he would say that that was Uriel.
The woman steps forward with both guys flanking her.
Castiel immediately knows that she's the one running the show around here.
"Hello, Castiel. Samandriel. My name is Naomi." She says, not smiling but steal sounding nice. Friendly even.
The woman looks down at them, keeping her distance. Caged animals are dangerous. Bobby had thought him that, and right now, he guesses the two of them are the animals and Naomi is threading cautiously, still not sure if either of them was going to jump at her throat.
Cas might. He is very inclined to do so.
Samandriel peeks over Castiel's shoulder carefully "How do you know our names?" he whispers.
"I know everything about you." She states matter-of-factly "I know your mother and your father were murdered, Samandriel." The boy inhales sharply and hides behind Castiel "And I know that your father left you, Castiel." Castiel stares at her blankly "And I know you never met your mother. We could find her for you." Naomi offers kindly.
Castiel keeps staring with a blank expression, not reacting to any of her words
Naomi leans over and squints at him.
"You don't talk much do you?"
Castiel keeps quiet and stares at her defiantly.
She smiles at him sweetly.
"I am going to have so much fun breaking you."
Naomi looks back over her shoulder, and that's apparently all it takes for Uriel and Zachariah to yank him forward, Zachariah twisting his arm behind his back painfully, so he doesn't get any leverage at all to escape.
"Cas!" Samandriel gasps from his place, starting to cry.
He keeps quiet, throwing a reassuring look at Sam even though Zachariah is twisting his arm in a very uncomfortable angle, and he's sure he's going to dislocate his shoulder.
Uriel produces a key from his jacket and unlocks Castiel's shackles.
Castiel tries to leverage himself out of Zachariah's vice hold, without much result.
Zachariah twist his arm further and Cas gasps
"Easy there, boy. Wouldn't want to rip off your arm. You're going to need it." He drawls in Castiel's ear.
Cas shudders and turns his face away in disgust.
Naomi takes a firm hold of his chin and twists his head, examining him. She tips his head back and squints.
"Uh." She whispers "Interesting."
She straightens up and lets go of Castiel and he just knows he's going to have bruises in his jaw tomorrow. He bruises so easily.
Naomi turns around and starts towards the door, throwing a disinterested "Careful with him. That one's special."