I do not own Supernatural.
.o0Captivated0o.
"Castiel!" A large hand touches me, and I hiss pushing it away. My hands tremble and as always a tidal wave of disgust crashes down over me. I scramble up and hurry to the bathroom, scrubbing myself clean with burning hot water and soap. Once my skin is free of germs I finally look to the door where Sam is leaning against the door hinge, eyes calculating and weary.
"Man, you're a freak." He decided, eyebrow raised. I swallowed thickly, touching the empty pill bottle in my pocket. I had taken the last one the day before and the medicine was leaving my system rapidly. Without Dean and without meds, I would surely be a broken thing with the following hours.
"Where is he?"My throat is croaky and dry. Sam runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at his neck in irritation.
"I don't know," He admits, licking his lips in a habit similar to his older brother. "But he's probably being ripped to shreds. We need to find him, and fast." Sam paces back into the room, gathering up weapons he has hidden around the room. He looks out the window and spots the Impala still safely waiting in the parking lot.
"Why is Alastair doing this? It's so petty." My voice is sharp. I wobble on my feet and Sam reaches out to steady me, I stumble back so quickly I hit his drawers. I wince in pain from the feel of the hard wood digging into my side, I'll surely bruise.
"Okay, I get it. No touching." Sam raises his hands in surrender. I look away from him. I feel so silly, as I always do when the medication isn't enough. When the medication wears off, the depression will start again. I squeeze my eyes shut and try and think of Dean's smiling accepting face. A small tendril of relief loosens my chest.
"Alastair is insane." Sam says answering my earlier question. He lifts up the bag Dean had only managed to half pack for his younger brother before he was abducted. Whatever Alastair had stuck me and Sam with had done it's job. Dean and I had arrived at Standford sometime this afternoon, while now it was late at night.
"Dean ... Dean likes doing what he does. But Alastair loves it, he loves hurting people. Dean kills people who are monsters, but Alastair kills for fun." Sam informs, and starts out the door. His long legs carry him faster than I can walk, so I have to jog to keep up.
"I honestly don't see much difference." I admit, staying close to Sam. He may not be Dean, but there is something about him that is close enough to quell me just barely as the nerves of the situation burn into my mind.
"You will." Sam says, not looking back over his shoulder as he leads me to the Impala.
The whole day we spend trying to gather information. Alastair has not made contact with either of us, which Sam finds strange. Alastair apparently likes to try and torture as many as possible in as little time as he can. Sam and I have hit a brick wall in our search. So Sam had resorted to waiting at a bar, clacking away at his computer to try and find old rap sheets on Alastair. He's looking for a pattern to where Alastair might take his victims but he's having no such luck.
"So what's the deal?" Sam asks, not looking up from the screen. The bar is slightly nicer than the ones Dean usually drags me to. The wooden tables are cleaner and the people are less rowdy.
"I do not understand." I frown, puzzled. Sam speaks strangely and it confuses me. He rolls his eyes as if reading my thoughts.
"You and Dean, what's going on between you?" Sam's gaze slants at me from over the laptop. I look away, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.
"We are travelling companions." I shrug, touching a frayed hole in the jeans that I'm wearing. They belong to Dean.
"Dean doesn't have 'travelling companions'. I thought he would have dumped you on the side of the road by now." Sam grunts, eyes scanning something on the screen hopefully before he sighs and clicks something else. I don't tell Sam that Dean has in fact dumped me on the side of the road only the day before.
"Dean needs me." It's the truth. Dean needs me almost as much as I need him, and this brings me great comfort. I anchor Dean into reality, I keep him from getting too lost in the bloody world he inhabits. Sam looks shocked at my bold declaration.
"Are you two fucking?" Sam blurts. I feel my cheeks burn with humiliation, and shake my head.
"No! No. Of course not. Dean is ... he protects me." I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. Dean would never do something so savage and unclean to me. He loves me. My family had raised me to believe that intercourse was wrong, sinful. So it was ingrained in my mind. The man who had touched me, the man I killed, had only fortified this thought. Dean would never do something so awful to me.
"Whatever you say, Andy Stitzer." Sam sniffed, scratching at his nose.
"My name is Castiel." I remind and Sam rolls his eyes dramatically. I am confused. We sit in silence for a long time, me studying Sam's face to keep my mind busy. He does not share many features with Dean which is a shame. But I suppose to other people he would be considered handsome.
"I found something." Sam says, voice taunt with restrained eagerness. I lean forward and he shows me a police report.
"He prefers large open rooms in seclusion, because he likes to make them scream-Miler's Point." Sam gasps, slamming down his computer. He rushes out of the bar, I follow behind.
Miller's Point it an old abandon mansion in the nearby woods. Sam drives over a creaky bridge. He parks a ways away and we stealthily approach the building. The front doors are covered by two men in suits.
"I don't understand." I whisper to Sam as we crouch behind a boulder. Sam glares at the men.
"Alastair sometimes hires goons to keep watch, he's a smart prick. He avoids capture because he thinks ahead." Sam gritted, rifling through his bag.
"We're going around back." Sam says, and we skirt around to the back of the massive home. The back door is also covered and all the windows are heavily boarded, we would not be able to break them open without drawing attention.
"Shit-" Sam curses under his breath, leaning back against the side of the house in between where the two sets of guards are. I look up and point eagerly. A small hole from the decaying home is crumbling above.
Sam cups his hands and squats down, I look at him strangely. He lets out an annoyed breath.
"I'll hoist you up." He whispers, gesturing for me to put my foot into his hands. I shake my head viciously, stepping away from him.
"Sam, I can't. The wood, it's rotting." My voice is choppy and broken, and I want Sam to climb up, but he is much too large. I will barely be able to squeeze through the hole.
"Just fucki-" Sam hisses.
"You don't understand!" I choke, hands trembling where I have them knotted in the over sized shirt belonging to Dean. Sam stops short and looks at me in silence for a long moment.
"If you don't, Dean might die." He says slowly. Pain erupts in my chest, and I nod shakily. For Dean I could brave anything. I nod again mostly in reassurance to myself, moving forward as he recups his palms together. I try to not touch him but it's impossible. My hand collides with the side of the house and I cry out in disgust. Sam hushes me and I whimper as I'm brought up to chest level with the hole. Inside it is dingy and dark, mold sits on the sodden wood and spider webs sit densely in the vent.
Gulping loudly, I try and swipe some of it away with the sleeve of Dean's jacket I had found in the Impala, the scent comforting. Spiders scurry amount and I feel my mouth fill with spittle from disgust.
"Come on." Sam snarls below. I nod, shakily taking hold. I lift myself weakly inside and give a short dry heave when a spider crawls across my jaw. I slap at it and it crushes under my hands, spurting messily against my neck.
"Try to find a weak window, or distract them so I can get inside." Sam's voice calls from below. Tears well and slip over my cheeks as I weakly drag myself down the shaft on all fours. I have never been in such a tight space before and am relieved to find out I also seem to be claustrophobic.
The wood groans under my weight, protesting as I finally see a small light. The mold is sticking to my skin and the smell is so dense it tickles my nose, little spores clotting up in my nostrils. I push out the weak metal vent and find myself in a decaying old living room. Wet papers line the swollen wooden planks. My shirt is soaked through, but Dean's jacket had protected most of my forearms from the grim.
I drag myself up and double over. I'm hyperventilating, my mind and heart racing in tune. Black swirls around the edge of my vision, threatening to pull me under. Violent stabs of pain shoot through my stomach and chest like I'm being stabbed at the attack seizes hold.
I desperately try and wait it out, but it rakes my entire body. I've just sunken down to my knees when I hear loud footsteps. I manage to crawl behind a fallen sofa when I hear the nasally voice from the telephone.
"Heaven, I'm in heaven," The haunting voice echos in the empty crumbling mansion. I hear a creaky metal door screech open and the sound of footsteps going down stairs.
"And my heart beats so I can hardly speak." The man sings slowly, almost tauntingly. I get up on wobbly knees, using the sodden couch to support me as I follow the voice down the stairs into the basement.
"That was it, wasn't it, Dean? The song you danced to on your wedding night." Alastair's voice was so cruel. He wasn't even speaking to me, and I felt myself freeze in fear as his voice twisted into the air like a cold blade.
"Oh, you looked so happy. Dancing cheek to cheek." Alastair chuckled darkly. I stood on the stairwell. Dean hadn't spoken a word, and I could see nothing besides a dull flickering light below.
"But it was all a lie wasn't it Dean. I did you a favor really. I showed you who you really are. If I hadn't killed Lisa, than you would have never of met your angel." Alastair swallowed at his words strangely as he spoke with false sympathy. Was this man speaking of me?
"I've been watching you. The way you look at him, it's disgusting really. Do you want to soil his pure little soul?" Alastair's voice lowered. I took a few steps further into the basement.
"Lisa screamed. Did I ever tell you that? She begged me to stop, she thought you'd save her. But you didn't Dean, you failed her." Alastair was a monster, he knew exactly what to say to make Dean drown in guilt. I knew Dean had a ridiculous belief that he needed to save and protect everyone, and the fact that he couldn't weighed on him so heavily I didn't know how he got up in the morning. Alcohol had so far seemed his favorite treatment.
"Now Castiel, he's even prettier than her. He'll scream won't he? Oh, I might even put some icky things on, just to watch him squirm. You shouldn't get so close to things so pure, Dean. You might make them dirty." Alastair sneered. The chains rattled and finally Dean spoke.
"Fuck you!" Dean snarled, struggling violently against his bonds.
"I wonder if our angel will cry. I bet he looks so pretty with tears on his cheeks. He cried when I sent Rick to play with him, he didn't seem to like that, but I'd be gentler. Oh, he'd learn to love it, to crave me." Alastair purred. I took the final step down and peered around the edge of the staircase. My breath caught in my throat. Dean was bloodied, tied up spread eagle and face down on a table. He was naked, large lacerations were whipped up and down his spine. The blood oozed steadily down his sides to drip from the table.
"You touch a fucking hair on his head and I'll rip the flesh from your bone!" Dean snarled viciously like a wild animal, struggling violently as the manacles dug into his wrists. My own scars still wrapped around my wrist, a brand to forever remind me of what 'Rick' had done. Alastair had sent him for me, the thought was terrifying.
"Ah, ah, ah. You're bleeding out, relax." Alastair smoothed a hand down Dean's backside. Dean growled lowly, face just out of my line of sight.
"We're not all that different. Castiel, and I. While you have a delusional hero complex, Cas and I have a purpose. We kill for vengeance." Alastair's smile was slimy.
"Cas killed that fucker because he deserved it." Dean spat, blood flying from his lips.
"Not at all. Rick was just doing his job, and he might of taken some liberties but he was a sick man. He didn't deserve to be carved up, at least, not by your strange standards." Alastair continued. I tried to filter out his words, to focus on Dean's voice.
"Shut your fucking mouth."
"But Cas is something special, isn't he? All that power and he doesn't even know it. I mean, he's tamed you hasn't he? The killer who slays people without a speck of remorse has gone weak in the knees for a college boy from orchid town. I wonder what makes you so drawn to him? Does he put those large pretty lips to good use?" Alastair mocked.
"Don't touch him." Dean panted, green eyes ablaze with hatred.
"I'll take good care of him." Alastair cooed. Dean started up his struggle again, blood flying from his skin. The sound of something breaking upstairs caught all of our attention. I managed to slip under the stair case just as Alasitar turned.
A man screamed and his voice broke off into a muffled pained noise.
"My little brother's gonna eat you alive." Dean grinned brutally, blood staining his usually white teeth. I winced when he immediately assumed it was Sam who had come to his rescue as if I wouldn't be able to. Alasair dug a fingernail itno one of Dean's wounds causing him to cry out. The sound of Dean in pain would haunt me for the rest of my life.
"I'll be right back." Alastair promised. He quickly ascended the stairs, shutting the heavy metal door behind him. I ran to Dean's side, and the relief on his face made any of the anxieties melt away like the sun warming the frozen soil after winter.
"Dean-" I breathed, dropping to my knees to cup his swollen face. I pressed out foreheads together, feeling his breath against my lips, assuring myself that he was indeed alive.
"Cas." Dean murmured my name like a prayer, pressing into my hands eagerly. I stroked his hair, wet with blood and sweat.
"I'm going to free you." I promised, standing and searching the room for something to remove his cuffs.
"Saw's over there." Dean nodded, and I saw the saw covered in little bits of Dean's flesh and blood. I shivered as I picked it up, using it to saw through the metal at a painstakingly slow pace. I was not very strong. Once the first one was free, Dean took the saw into his own hands and set to work on the other three. Even half bleed out he was stronger. Dean sat naked on the table, breathing hard as sweat rolled down his temples and chest, creating little streaks on his chest.
"Dean, I'm sorry-" Sorry I hadn't gotten here sooner. Sorry I couldn't protect him as much as he protected me. Sorry I wasn't strong enough to use the saw properly. Sorry Lisa was dead. But I didn't say any of this. Dean just nodded, eyes suddenly weary.
"Gotta help Sammy." Dean grumbled, standing. He collapsed and I held him up. He cried out as my hands clasped his wounds. I jerked back but he held tight to me.
"It's okay." He said stiffly, before I could get out my apology. I leaned him back against the table, removing his leather jacket and tying it around his hips for some form of modesty. Slowly we ambled up the stairs. I had to hold Dean's arms because his back was in ribbons from lacerations. Dean would have scars.
We were halfway up the stairs when the door opened. Sam stood up top, he too had blood on him and raced down the stairs. He easily helped carry his bulky brother up the stairs, whispering words of comfort I hadn't offered.
I skipped over the start of depression and delved head first into a pit of it.
A/N: If Cas was human he would be so fucked up, he just wouldn't know how to handle humanity and I think thats were I got all these ideas for his mental instability. What do you think of this chapter? Alastair is seriously one of my favorite villains of all time.