Author's Note - Hi guys, long time - no see! I cannot believe how long it's been since I last wrote anything. I've gone through some major life changes over the last six months and literally haven't had the time to work on any of my stories. But, writing is one of my favourite things to do so I'm finally back and I intend to stay back. Since this is my first attempt at writing in a looong time, I'm afraid the chapter is a little shorter than others but I hope you still enjoy! =D
Chapter Nine
"Where exactly do you think you're going, boy?" Virgil drawls from where he stands behind Dean, who has to grit his teeth in response. He stopped being a 'boy' a long time ago and if there is one thing he hates (aside from the whole being a slave thing), it's being treated like a child.
"Outside," Dean finally supplies, though he thinks the answer should be obvious. "To train."
Virgil relinquishes his grip on his shoulder and Dean turns to look up at the angel. With his tailor-made suit and slicked back hair, Virgil looks the same as he ever does. Not that he ever really shows himself all that often. Dean has maybe seen him a grand total of four times over the ten years he has spent in the colosseum and that is just fine by him. Seeing Virgil is practically an omen. A really bad omen.
"Outside?" Virgil questions. "With all the riff-raff? But you're famous now. Metatron's new favourite." He spits out the last sentence like it's a dirty taste in his mouth and Dean suddenly know what this is about.
He should have expected it really. Metatron had mentioned that he managed to buy the four of them by making Virgil an offer he couldn't refuse. Dean had thought then that it sounded more like he threatened the other Angel and that assumption was beginning to look pretty accurate.
Virgil's glower turns to Chuck and Kevin, as though only just realising their presence. "The two of you may go. Phoenix - " Apparently another dirty word, considering the way he grimaces when he says it. "- and I have some business to attend to."
Dean can't think of any kind of 'business' that he and Virgil could possibly have together. His best and only guess is that it was actually code for 'I need to beat the crap out of the handsome one so I can feel better'.
And from the look of it, it's the exact same conclusion his two companions have come to as they glance from Virgil, to Dean and back again, concern written clearly across their features.
"Don't make me repeat myself, slaves." Virgil all but growls at them. "Out. Now."
Both Chuck and Kevin give Dean one last apologetic glance before slipping away from the table and out into the cold.
They have barely left the room when Virgil, with that impossible, inhuman speed that all Angels seem to possess, grabs Dean by the scruff of his collar and slams him down onto the table. The plates still left clatter around him and Dean hears a gasp come from one of the gladiators on clean up.
"All of you." Virgil shouts at them. "LEAVE!"
Unlike Dean's friends, they don't need telling twice.
"So, uh, what's this business we need to attend to?" Dean says, voice strained due to the hand pushed up against his throat.
Virgil doesn't reply, just stares down at him with a dark gaze that can't be described as anything but intense.
Dean glares back defiantly but already he can feel the beginnings of fear rise up within.
"You're not gonna' kiss me, are ya?" he asks when the silence becomes too much for him. He's only half joking. "Cause seriously, the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid."
Virgil pushes away from him with a look of disgust. "I just don't see it. What could the Supreme Ruler possibly see in you?"
Dean cautiously pushes himself up, already thinking up an array of snarky replies but cleverly keeping them to himself. He knows that pushing too many buttons at once could be dangerous for his health.
"You're nothing but a smart-mouthed, scrawny runt. No worthier of Metatron's attention than any of the other apes we've enslaved on your putrid little world."
Well, now he was just being plain insulting. Scrawny? Runt? Ape? Dean has never thought of himself as any of those things, although now that he thinks about it, he probably has been called at least two of those names a few times over the years.
"But you think you're so special, don't you?" Virgil continues, closing the distance between them again. "Surviving the labyrinth? Supposedly earning the right to be healed by an Angel's touch? Well let me tell you something, boy, you're not. You're just a worthless slave. You're my worthless slave. And I'm going to make sure that you never leave my Colosseum."
A cold rush of dread washes over Dean upon hearing the threat. He knows exactly what Virgil is implying. "I'm bought and paid for." Dean breathes. "If you kill me, Metatron kills you."
It's a long shot. Dean doesn't know for sure that Metatron would in fact kill Virgil for killing Dean but at the very least, he'd be a little angry and no Angel could really want to anger the Supreme Ruler, right?
But Virgil just smirks and claps him on the shoulder once more, leaning in close to whisper. "Do you even realise how many of your own kind hate you right now? I won't have to lift a finger."
"What is the meaning of this?" a new but all too familiar voice interrupts.
Dean whips around in shock, mouth agape while Virgil just sighs heavily, "Castiel."
"Virgil," Castiel greets him return. "I trust you have a good reason for holding one of my students back from training?"
One of his students? During his time in the colosseum, Dean's only trainers have been Anna and Balthazar. What was Castiel even doing here?
"Merely saying our goodbyes." Virgil replies tersely. "Afterall, our dear Phoenix has been with us for a long time now."
"Well, wrap it up. I've been given six days to train he and the others and I'm going to need all the time I can get if I'm going to have them ready for the Royal arena."
Virgil nods and looks like he's attempting to smile but doesn't quite accomplish it. It's more of a baring of teeth. "Better watch you're back, boy." He murmurs in Dean's ear before stalking out of the hall.
With him gone, Dean turns his attention back to Castiel, deciding for now at least to forget about the threat. "What are you doing here? I don't see you for ten years and now all of a sudden you're everywhere."
Castiel frowns at him. "I have had no reason to see you in the last ten years. Now I do. I am to train you. Come." Is all he says before heading towards the arena again. Dean practically has to jog to keep up with the fast pace.
"Wait, so this is what you meant yesterday, when you said that you'd been promoted? You're a Colosseum Master?"
"That is correct."
"And you're here to train us?"
"Indeed. It is my job to ensure that by the end of this week, you and your three labyrinth companions meet the standards required to become a gladiator of the Royal Colosseum."
The wording of that statement has Dean bristling. He may not be particularly excited about becoming one of Metatron's personal fighters and he may not be the very best there is but he still considers himself a damn good gladiator, thank you very much. "I thought we already fit that bill. Metatron told me yesterday that he wants us."
Castiel comes to a halt at the arena doors and pins Dean with a glare as icy as the air outside.
"Did he now? I suppose the Supreme Ruler always did have a habit of acting impulsively. But tell me something, Dean, do you really think you're good enough to fight before gods?"
Dean is fairly certain that Castiel is speaking metaphorically right now because as far as he is aware, there are no gods in any of the audiences of the colosseums, even the royal ones.
"We managed to escape the labyrinth," it's the best argument Dean can come up with.
"By the skin of your teeth," Castiel breathes as he steps towards Dean, stopping only when scant inches separate them. "Let me tell you this Dean, I understand why His Highness wants The Prophet. Whilst in the labyrinth he managed to overpower one shapeshifter, kill several others and navigate the maze with ease. I understand Him wanting The Avenger. She killed two ghouls and a Djinn. And Dragon Bait, though new to the world of gladiators, managed to make it out of one of the hardest tournaments practically unscathed, saving your hide several times in the process."
"In all fairness, I also saved him." Dean can't help but point out.
"But you, Dean." Castiel continues as if there had been no interruption. "I do not understand why he wants you. You were fooled by a shapeshifter who would have succeeded in killing you had you not run. You were almost eaten by ghouls and then saved by a boy half your size. You were rescued yet again when one of the dragons managed to pin you down and finally, when you managed to throw yourself down the escape tunnel, you had to be saved yet again by an Angel. Now tell me, Dean, does that sound like a gladiator who is ready to go up against the strongest fighters this planet has ever seen?"
Dean scowls. "Well, when you say it that way, it obviously doesn't sound great but - "
Castiel's scowl deepens and Dean has never felt more like a scolded schoolboy than he does now. And that's including the times he was actually scolded in school. "No, I guess not," he reluctantly mumbles.
"That's what I thought," Castiel nods and begins the swift pace again. "But don't you worry Dean, by the time I'm through with you, you will be."