Castiel was knocked out by a swift punch from Crowley. His stunning blue eyes rolled back as his now unconscious body fell slack onto the floor. With a smug and prideful smile lingering on his lips, Crowley picked him up like a trophy then headed as silently as he had entered out of the house. With the first sign of daylight being about an hour away, the widower had plenty of time to sneak out of the village as inconspicuously as he could with a body hanging over his shoulder. Once he entered the woods he was less caring with the transportation of Castiel, and quickly made his way to the roaring river. Just as it had as his journey to the village, the waves parted, making a perfect path for Crowley to cross. The moment his feet had landed on the bank, the water came splashing back down to it's usual roaring chaos. Next was the quick journey to Crowley's own house, which was both close to the shore and well hidden in the forest scenery. Easily carrying the nearly lifeless body, Crowley began to finish his endeavor, his mind once again racing with the possibilities of what he could do to wreck his new prize.

/

Castiel had woken up in some pretty odd place, but when he woke up tied to a chair, the occasion definitely took first place for strangest awakenings. It took a purring accented voice for Cas to remember what had happened before he woke up. "Hello there, Castiel."

At the sound of the voice Castiel was able to locate a man sitting professionally in a chair in front of him, poised as if he was a hawk watching over his prey. Or, a better description, a cat plotting what to do with a new toy. The village boy had a million questions he wanted to ask, the first being 'where's Dean' and the others questioning where he was and who the man staring at him in the uncomfortable way was. "What…?" The weak words finally escaped from his lips, his head unwillingly tilted to the side in wonder.

That's when the man stood up, appearing to be just a bit shorter than Castiel would of been if he too had been standing. He had dull brown eyes and a week old stubble. His eyes were weird, sometimes they would appear to be dead and empty but then the next moment they would be gleaming in a mischievous elfish way that seemed to suit him. "Who am I? Where are you? I'm sure those are few of many questions flowing through your head right now, my angel." He spoke, starting to pace around, mostly around his captive in a predatory way.

Castiel decided it would be safest not to answer. He kept his mouth shut though allowed his eyes to follow the man wherever he went in the room. The shorter man chuckled, stopping next to the chair. "My name is Crowley, thanks for asking." Once again the pacing continued. "You're here because you, you special duck, have somehow managed to piss off the queen of the forest. Sleeping with her son or something like that." The smug smile seemed permanently glued to his lips. "Now, to keep you away, she gave me to you. Very generous of her. Now I have my own angel I can play with."

"Angel? Why do you keep calling me that?" Out of all the questions Cas could have asked, he settled on that one.

"Oh joy, so you can talk. As to your question, why does anyone call anyone anything? I like the name, it suits you." Crowley's features suddenly became darker, more dangerous. "I can pluck out your feathers one by one until your wings are bare." He advanced closer, intimidating Castiel though he kept his gaze matched with his. "I will wreck you, angel. I will leave to bleeding and begging on the floor for me to kill you, though I'm not that merciful" A hint of fake charm hit his expression. "You see, I think I'll keep you for a bit. I'll destroy you, angel, until you are nothing but a shell of a human. You'll be dead, though still have to suffer with that pulse that you'll quickly learn to hate."

As if to prove his point, Crowley drew out a crooked dagger and gently pressed the tip down on a vein pulsing in Castiel's wrist. He applied just enough pressure to send a shiver of pain up his captive's body as a drop of blood blossomed from his skin. Crowley spoke again, now uncomfortably close to Cas as his voice dropped to a hiss. "Does that hurt you, angel? It's only the beginning, my dear. Only the beginning."

A single word escaped Castiel's lips as he closed his eyes, distracting himself from the pain by thinking about anything besides Crowley and the dagger currently at his wrist. "Dean…"

Another chuckle. "Dean? Ah yes, the shapeshifter. Do you think he'll come to save you? Do you think he actually cares that much?"

Once again Castiel remained silent, earning a deep rumble from Crowley's throat before he backed away, sheathing the dagger back in his belt. "So how about we start with the real fun now?"

/

Dean spent his last hours in the most helpless and weak way he could imagine. After Castiel had left, he just lay there. He lay there staring up at the slowly fading stars and changing sky, waiting for both the morning and his death to come. Morning came quickly, though death wasn't exactly guaranteed. About an hour after the sun had risen into the night sky, the shapeshifter began to suspect something when he was still breathing. Soon he finally willed himself off the ground and started to walk around, which was quickly accompanied by him shouting for his mother, at first questioning but quickly growing to demanding. Finally a choked sob answered him, though his mother was no where in sight. "I- I'm sorry Dean."

The shapeshifter immediately froze, his muscles tensing. "What did you do? What did you do?" His voice started out as a scream, fading into a whisper as he continued.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, my son. I couldn't bear the thought without you I-" Her words were cut off by another sob.

Realization struck Dean's face, his features quickly turning distant and cold. "What did you do to Cas? Where is he?"

"You mustn't go after him, please Dean, you mustn't, I beg of you-"

"Where is he?"

There was a pause before the queen answered. "Across the river, at the widower's house. You can't cross the river, Dean. You'll drown and there's nothing I can do about it. not anymore."

Dean set off to the river without another word, his mother's pleading and sobbing voice filling his ears as he made his way. Once he made it to the banks, he studied the roaring waves. There was no way he could swim across, there wasn't even a likely chance that if he had a boat he could ride across. The waves were too wild, the rapids dangerous and eager to take any life that dared try to brave them. Without another thought, Dean started with the impossible task he made for himself. Gathering logs, branches, and anything else he could find, that shapeshifter built a lousy but yet somehow stable raft. At first it was just big enough to fit only him, but after a small extension he could only hope that his lover would also be able to fit.

Once again his mother's sobs filled his head. "Dean, you can't cross. Not like this. The only way you can cross safely is-" Her sentence dropped off, as if she decided not to finish it.

"What?" Dean snapped, "What can I do?"

His mother told him, though it was quickly followed with pleas of him to not do it and for him to come back to her. Undoubtedly, Dean ignored them and continued with his new plan. "Oh spirits of these waters, I ask of you to calm."

The gurgling came to a standstill, as if the river wanted to hear the words that the shapeshifter would say. Dean took a breath before continuing, "I give to thee my life for a safe passage. Once more, I wish for you to calm your waves and slow the churn so I can safely cross your waters to get to the other side. In return for this favor, you can take my life once I cross again." He refused to believe the tears threatening to spill over onto his cheek were real as he choked out his final word. "Please."

The river continued to churn, as if it was thinking about his request. Dean's mother continued to scream at him, nearly going into hysterics as the tide suddenly slowed, the rolling waves subsiding into a gentle ramble. Before the shapeshifter could rethink what he had just done, he set his makeshift raft down and sat himself down on it, letting the current push him to the other side. Dean jumped off the raft, quickly taking it out of the water and setting it on the banks as the river suddenly changed back into the roaring and raging monster it had been mere minutes ago. His hazel eyes rested on the fierce river before he snapped them away, setting out in a run to find the widower's house. Quickly he located a small shack like house hidden under a blooming willow, and with no other shelters in sight, Dean decided that it was the place.

Practically breaking down the wooden door, Dean wasn't sure what he should have expected to see when he entered. Castiel was tied to a chair, the bonds on his legs and arms splattered with blood, the ropes on his wrists frayed from a clear struggle. A man stood in front of him with a knife at Cas's throat, slowly turning around as Dean barged in. The shapeshifter had to resist the urge to back away when he saw the widower's expression, mixed with rage and pleasure and something Dean could only describe as insanity gleaming in his eyes. "How nice, you must be Dean. Pleasure you could join us."