CHAPTER EIGHT
Weeks later and Dean had barely cracked a dent in the research Gabriel had given him. He was seriously beginning to think that if he laid it out end to end he'd have a crap-ton of paper laid out end to end and nothing to show for it. Dean tried not to lose hope though; he'd get through it all, probably not solve the case and still end up with some dirt on Dick-fucking-Roman.
It was just going to take a long fucking time getting there.
Okay, so maybe Dean wasn't as patient as he liked to believe he was. The cabin had warmed up considerably with the coming spring and with the help of a fire (special thanks to Dad for 'camping' trips parked along backwater highways) and the company of the cat helped (and thanks to him for getting cat hair all over police reports), but it already seemed to be bearing down on him. Sometimes, Dean would head out and go for a long drive; if there was one thing he'd forgotten from living in the city, it was how nice good old country air was. It cleared his head, put a spring in his step, and all around put him in a good mood.
That was until he got back to the cabin and his pocket started singing the first few notes of Metallica's "Some Kind of Monster." When he glanced at the caller ID his heart jumped into his throat.
"Hey, Cassie."
"Dean. Hi." There was a long pause where neither of them knew what to say exactly. "How are you?"
"Fine, yeah, good. Uh. How are you?" He winced at how needy his sounded.
"Holding on." Another long pause and he debated speaking up, was already forming the words for an apology when she beat him to it. "I'm selling Genesis."
"I'm—You're-. What?"
"I'm selling Genesis."
"No, that was—What the fuck, Cassie?"
"What, Dean? What am I supposed to do? You took off!" If she had been holding back her anger before she certainly wasn't try to this time. "You took off and now we've lost over half of our subscribers and we have months at best."
He sighed, "Why didn't you talk to me about this first?"
"Don't you remember? You fired yourself. You left me here to try and put this mess together. And the only way of keeping Genesis alive is to sell."
"Well to who?"
"Milton & Sons. I'm surprised that Gabriel never told you."
Oh, he and Gabriel were going to have a nice little chat, very nice indeed. "No, he failed to mention it. Fuck." Dean collapsed backwards onto his bed, and the cat which had been sleeping there hiss at him. "What's gonna happen?"
Her voice was gentler now, "Nothing will change. Not the management, not the employees, not even the content." She laughed and it made his chest ache. "I guess he is more concerned with trying to get on Roman's bad side than actually having anything to do with us."
"Yeah, that sounds like something he would do."
Another long empty pause and Dean remembered better times when they would lay on opposite ends of the world and fall asleep with the phone to their ears just listening to each other breathe.
Now it only felt strained, awkward.
"I just thought you should know." Her voice was quiet and almost sad, like she had the same thoughts running through her head, the same memories.
"Yeah. Thanks."
"Goodbye, Dean."
"Yeah."
Well, there went his good mood.
Half an hour later, he was calling the phone number that Anna had left him with and half an hour after that they were making out and then they were tumbling into bed, leaving only a trail of clothes behind them and about an hour and half after that they were laying there panting and sweaty and sated.
Anna lit up a cigarette and, after taking a long drag, offered it to him. He accepted.
The last time he smoked he was 18; that was right around when he and Cassie got together and she made it clear she would never date anyone who smoked or drank too much. So he made some changes. But what use was all that now? So yeah, he was fucking glad to have a cigarette.
"Did you leave any marks?" Anna asked, rubbing at her neck absently, propped up against the head board on a pile of pillows. "I hate hickeys. People around here ask questions."
"I don't think so." As much as actually Dean liked to leave love bites, somehow he could tell by Anna's prudish manner that they would be a no go.
She just nodded and there was silence as they passed the cigarette back and forth between them.
"Dean, you know that this is probably a—"
"A one time thing? Yeah. I know." He grinned at her easily, quirking up the side of his mouth. The smile he received back was warm and relieved.
"Good. Good." The quiet between them was easy and there was little awkwardness. It was comfortable, like they'd both just done each other a favor. When the cigarette was gone, Anna got up and began collecting her clothes while Dean just put on his jeans.
"Oops! Crap."
"What?" Dean called from the bathroom.
"Nothing, I just knocked over some—" There was a pause, then, "Why do you have pictures of Bela?"
Crap. Dean hurried out of the bathroom, scrubbing his hands on his jeans to dry them. "What?"
"These pictures," she was standing there in her lingerie, holding a folder a pile of pictures he hadn't gone through yet. "They're of Bela." She handed them over and Dean looked them over. It was Bela, but she was in a crowd of people. This must have been the parade she went to that day with her friends. He could see her there on the sidewalk with a couple of people while other locals lined the streets and cars drove slowly by. "I thought you said you were writing about Gabriel?"
"What? Oh. I am. I am. But Bela was a big part of his life, you know, I can't leave her out of this."
Anna nodded slowly, "Right." She didn't quite sound like she believed him, but he was too focused on the pictures to notice. They looked like screen captures from a video, not actual photos. The time stamp in the bottom left corner told him the date and time the video was taken as well as the exact minute and second this photo was grabbed. But where was the actual video? Immediately Dean began digging through boxes and piles.
"I'm just gonna shower, then I'll be out of here." Anna said and Dean gave some vague response. Where the hell was the video?
When Anna came out to say goodbye, Dean showed her to the door, but already his mind was gone, immersed in his work. But he still couldn't find the actual video. A call to Gabriel – however painful it was – told him what he needed to know: the video was at the city archives and they'd only used it to confirm that Bela had, indeed been at the parade. He'd then demanded to know what Dean had found, but he was quick to reassure Gabriel that it was probably nothing. Gabriel hid his disappointment well.
If by 'well' you mean ending the call with, "Okay, thanks for the update, prick!"
But Dean's mind was already ahead of him and after a quick shower he was tearing off to the archives. He didn't have much hope that he would find something, but just the fact that there was video footage out there of Bela just hours before she disappeared had to mean something, right?
The archivist there was attractive and he flirted weakly, as was his trademark. She seemed reluctant to just let him walk out of there with the file, but when he reminded her that he was working for the Milton family – the family that basically built Haven from the ground up – and flashed her his most dazzling smile well, how could she say no?
Zachariah was feeling pretty damned pleased with himself lately. He was up for a promotion, which meant he could start planning that vacation for next month, and he had access to the sweetest ass he'd had in a long time virtually whenever he wanted. So when he got the call from the boy asking to meet him at his apartment again, Zachariah was happy to make some arrangements.
Everything was still set up from last time and, though Zachariah thought that Castiel would probably be much more willing this time, there was just something about watching the boy struggle in handcuffs and chains that really got his blood going.
When he opened the door and saw Castiel standing there, looking all surly and adorable, Zachariah just barely smiled. "Well, come on in, Castiel. I don't have all night." Oh, the look Castiel gave him could have curdled milk.
"Now, Castiel," Zachariah announced as he closed the door. "I don't want to have to knock you out this time, but—"
"Stop talking." Suddenly there was a jolt in his neck, like the worst case of static shock he'd ever gotten and Zachariah's eyes blew wide open before the floor came rushing up to meet him and everything went black.
When he woke, his mouth was covered with a strip of duct tape, and he couldn't move. After a brief struggle he realized that his arms where screwed down into the floor, feet bound together and restrained in much the same way, and he was completely naked. A pillow was propped under his head and he could just barely lift it up to look around. What he saw made the blood in his veins run cold.
Standing at the TV was a figure clad all in black with long pale arms hanging loosely at his side. Castiel. Who else could it be? Immediately, Zachariah started struggling, shouting on the other side of the tape, hollering for the little homo to let him go immediately. There wasn't very much fear in him, not yet.
"Shh, this is my favorite part."
And that was when Zachariah noticed the video playing on his 40" flat screen. He could hear mostly screaming as the Castiel in the video struggled against the bonds and the Zachariah in the video climbed on top of the writhing boy. Zachariah watched himself hold the struggling Castiel down, shouting at him that he should be thankful for what he gets, thankful that someone finally wanted him before the real Castiel muted it.
"To be honest, I wasn't expecting that. Should have known better."Castiel finally turned towards him and all Zachariah could see was the blue of the man's eyes and felt something like terror creeping up his spine.
"Do you want to know how I did it?" Castiel seemed almost excited, grabbing up his bag and standing over Zachariah. He flinched away, but Castiel forced his attention by shocking him with a taser. "Look. See? This button, it's actually a wide-angle fibre optic lens. Got it from a friend." He watched Castiel set the bag down, whimpering behind the duct tape.
That was when Castiel dug around in the bag. "So here's what going to happen." Zachariah choked on shouts as he saw the device Castiel was pulling out, a long steel rod shaped like a cock. "You might want to lie still for this. It's going to hurt."
There was no lube, no gentleness as Castiel shoved Zachariah's bent legs to the side and how was it such a small body could be so strong, Zachariah wondered briefly, mind dumb with fear. Then he had no more room for thought as Castiel shoved the rod into his hole (which, despite Zachariah's active sex life, had never been penetrated before). It only went about half way until Castiel couldn't force it in anymore. So he stood and used a well aimed kick to shove it the rest of the way. Zachariah howled with pain.
It felt like being split open and Zachariah tried to force it out, but a thick ring around the base kept the rod inside him tightly. He hollered and hollered, but Castiel only looked down at him in disgust.
"Now, I am going to talk and you are going to listen, understand?" Zachariah was still screaming, sobbing. "Look at me, Zachariah. Look at me." It's over, his whole life, his career it's all over. There was another shock – a taser - and he forced his eyes open, forced himself to look at Castiel even though all he wanted to do was get the thing out of him.
"I'm going to propose a new deal. Listen closely. Are you listening?" Zachariah managed a nod. "Good." Castiel crouched down beside Zachariah's head and his eyes were so wide and so blue, nothing warm in them at all. Just cold blue. "When you can walk again, you and I are going to go to my bank. You are going to give full control of my money back to me. Once a month, you will write a report telling your superiors that I am improving, that I'm becoming very sociable, the very model of a normal human being. Understand?" Zachariah nodded. Anything, anything to get out of here. "Good. Within six months you are going to petition to get my status as mentally, socially and emotionally incompetent removed. Understand? Good." The blue of the man's eyes was endless and shook Zachariah to his core. "This video shows you raping a mentally unstable young man. If this video gets out, I think you'll be the one institutionalized, wouldn't you agree? If you fail to do these things I've described to you, I will upload this video to the internet and see that it reaches every single person you have ever met. Understand? Good. If I die or if you try to kill me or try to escape from our deal, this video will be uploaded to the internet and sent to everyone you have ever met. Understand? Good."
Castiel stood, talking as he moved just out of Zachariah's line of sight. "Just a few more things. Made copies of all your keys. I'll be checking in on you, Zachariah. I'll be watching you. And if I ever find you in here with a boy or a girl that you have coerced into being here, it won't just be the video you have to worry about. Look here, Zachariah." He craned his head and suddenly there was a gun pointed at his head. His torn ass clenched around the rod as his whole body went still with fear. "I will kill you, Zachariah. I will kill you."
The eyes that stared over the long length of arm and gun were icy blue, focused and cruel. Zachariah could feel the vomit swelling up in his mouth, foul and bitter. The gun was lowered and tucked into the back of Castiel's pants. Zachariah nearly fainted, probably would have if Castiel hadn't given him a fierce kick in the side.
"Wake up. You can't pass out yet. I know this won't be easy for you. So I'm going to do you a favor. I'll make sure you can never forget."
A pillow was tossed over his hips before Castiel was sitting on him, a strange device held tight in his grip. It was only once the man was digging in that he realized what it was. "Lie still. You don't want me to have to do this twice, do you, Zachariah?"
Zachariah couldn't stay awake for all of it, he fainted after the first few lines. It was only the next morning, when he woke and was able to release himself from the zip ties with the wire clippers that had been left near his hands that Zachariah saw what had been written in big, black letters on his skin.
I AM A RAPIST, SADISTIC PIG.
The quality of the video wasn't as great as something you might be able to find these days in friggin' cell phones but it was good enough.
In it, the cameraman was high above the parades crowd, possibly on a balcony overlooking the street. There was shouting and cheers and hollering, but by the third watch, Dean knew that the sound wouldn't be helpful. What he was more concerned with was Bela, standing there with her friends, waving at the people riding by in hot rods and convertibles. It had taken a while to find the point where she arrived, a little late, but she seemed happy to be out and about with her friends. The smile on her face was very pretty and lit her up like a Christmas tree or something. Dean could tell just from that brief moment just what Gabriel had admired in her.
But then something seemed to change. One minute, Bela was watching the parade, waving wildly at a car that went by – perhaps one of her friends from school was in it – turning to watch the vehicle go. Then she suddenly seemed to freeze and, if it weren't for the fact that everyone around he kept going, Dean might have thought there was something wrong with the video. No, she'd seen something maybe even someone and she had frozen. Dean wasn't very sociable, but he liked to think he was still very good at reading people and Bela's face just screamed fear. She was terrified.
And then hours later, she was gone.
