You wake up all at once, sitting up and looking around with wide, panicked eyes. You're in a room you don't recognize, but it looks like a bedroom. You're on a cot, and there's a soft blanket stretched over you. The only thing that's off is that there's no door.

"Hello?" you ask softly, simultaneously hoping that someone will answer and that the room will stay silent. "Dean? Hello?"

"Dean's not here," Zachariah says, and you blink because he just appeared out of nowhere, and it's still disconcerting as fuck. "But I'm sure he will be soon."

You stare at him, fear making your whole back tingle and your stomach turn over. "What am I doing here?" Before he can answer, you answer yourself. "You're trying to use me as leverage to get Dean to say yes to Michael."

Zachariah smiles approvingly. "You are the smart one! Yes, soon, Dean will say yes to us, and he'll help us fight Lucifer, and everything will be peaches and ice cream for all of us. He just needs to be… Persuaded."

That fear is making your spine feel like ice, and you're genuinely starting to worry that you're about to vomit. "Per… Persuaded how?"

Zachariah's vicious smile answers for you.

He snaps his fingers and you're in a different room, with concrete floor and walls and a metal chair in the center of the room. There is a door in this room, but you have a sick feeling that you're not going to be allowed to go through it. Dread makes you almost incoherent, and you try to stem the terrified tears that are trying to fill your eyes.

His cold hand grips your arm and leads you to the chair. You struggle hard, but he's an angel, and you knew there was no use, anyway.

He shoves you down into the chair, and without thinking, you tense every muscle you have as hard as you can. Ropes appear around your waist, wrists, and ankles, and you relax everything just after they do.

Something you read a long time ago, in a Stephen King novel, is floating in your mind. If you tense every muscle when you're being tied up, as soon as you relax them, you'll have a little bit of wiggle room to get out. It's not a lot to go on, but without weapons, or any idea where you are, you're kind of stuck in this situation.

Zachariah's eyeing you, and you blink, hoping that he doesn't realize what you've done. "What… What are you going to do to me?" you ask, and the trembling in your voice isn't fake. You're absolutely terrified.

He smiles coldly. "Oh, whatever I want, dear," he says almost gently, reaching out to run a finger along your neck, the down your collarbone. The implied threat has you shivering in fear.

"But let's see if your boyfriend won't save you, hmm?"

xxxxx

"Dean. I need an answer. Now."

Panic is clawing at his gut, and Dean can't think of a damn thing to say but, "Where is she? I'll come to you."

"Not good enough, Dean. I'm not playing around this time, do you understand?" Zachariah is snarling into the phone. "Maybe some time to think is what we need. I'm sure I can find something to… Entertain myself with until then."

The line goes dead, and the panic and fear and fury finally overcomes Dean. "Fuck!"

xxxxx

When he gets back to Bobby's, Sam meets him in the kitchen with a serious look on his face. "Cass is already working on finding her, Bobby is looking for omens, and I'm calling around to hunters, to see if they've seen anything weird."

"No, you're standing here, fucking talking to me," Dean snaps, pushing past his brother to get into the kitchen. "Where the fuck would they take her?"

Winch is whimpering in the corner. As soon as Dean enters, the big dog approaches him, still whining. It breaks Dean's heart a little, so he lets his hand stroke Winch's big head.

"Might not be somewhere we can go," Bobby says gruffly from his desk in the study. "But if it is, we'll find her."

Dean suppresses the urge to destroy something. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Dean," Sam says gently, "It's just, uh… It's just important that you don't say yes, okay? Not even in your head."

Incredulous, Dean stares at Sam. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Sam runs a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "I know you, Dean, you're already thinking about saying yes to save Y/N. You just… You can't do that."

All of the anger in Dean changes targets, and he steps forward to fist his hands in Sam's shirt and toss him back. "Then what the fuck am I supposed to do, Sam?!" He shouts, so furious he can hardly see. "They're going to kill her!" Winch is whimpering, but Dean can't find it in himself to comfort the dog.

Sam stumbles backward, but stays on his feet. His face settles into a stubborn expression. "Dean, I know you're worried, but-"

"Worried? You think I'm just worried?" Dean asks, completely dumbfounded again. "Sam, I'm pissed. We gotta get her back. Any way we can."

Sam's shaking his head. "Dean, no. How would Y/N feel if you gave up because of her?"

"At least she'd be alive to feel something, Sam!"

xxxxx

When Zachariah comes back in, a table appears next to you, draped in a cloth. That, combined with the look on his face, has tears starting to pool in your eyes.

"Y/N, dear, this isn't personal-" he cuts himself off with a shake of his head. "No, it's definitely personal. I'm going to have to do some… Persuasion, per se, to get your boyfriend to talk."

You seal your lips and just look at him. You've already decided that your best bet is to not say a word. Not because it will make him stop, the sick feeling in your stomach is telling you that nothing will make him stop. But that way, when Dean comes to save you, maybe you won't be screaming your fool head off.

You have no doubt that Dean will come for you, you know that Dean will come for you, because that's what he does. He's a hero, and you're in need of rescuing, and he'll rise to the occasion.

But the time between now and then is what's worrying you.

So you just stare at Zachariah, petrified, tears pouring down your face.

He smirks. "Oh, good, you won't cooperate. This is going to be delightful."

xxxxx

He starts with hitting you.

He hits you over and over and over. Your lip is bloodied, you're fairly sure a tooth or two has been knocked loose, and your right eye is so swollen you can't open it. The pain in your head is immense, you can't think, you're just feeling it, wave after wave of alternating sharp and dull pain shooting through your skull. Maybe you've become just a creature made of pain, because surely you're no longer human.

Zachariah disappears again, breathing heavily and absolutely furious. You send up a prayer.

Cass. Please find me. Bring Dean to me, I don't know where I am, but please, please, please find me soon.

xxxxx

Dean is sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands, when the phone rings again. He lunges, opens it, and presses it to his ear. "Zachariah?"

"Dean, ready with that yes yet?"

Before he can say anything, the phone is snatched away from him. He looks up at Cass, who is holding the phone in his head. "Zachariah, where is Y/N?"

Dean tries to stand to pull the phone away, but Castiel's iron hand on his shoulder forces him to stay in the seat. Winch snarls, and Dean puts his free hand on the dog's back to stop the sound. He hears the other angel's nasty voice in the phone, and his stomach rolls, thinking about what that bastard is doing to his woman.

"Zachariah, tell me where the girl is."

There's more noise from the other end of the phone, then Cass snaps the phone shut.

Hope soars in Dean's chest. "Did he tell you where she is?"

Castiel stares at him for a moment, and Dean's mind goes blank with rage. "You… He… He didn't tell you… So you hung up on him?"

"Dean, you must not say yes. He will use any means to get you to do so," Castiel says, but he averts his eyes, and that's all Dean needs to know. He pulls away from Cass's hand and stands slowly, anger pulsing through his veins.

"Dean," the angel starts again, "I know you want to protect Y/N-"

Dean cuts him off by picking up the chair he was sitting in and smashing the angel across the head with it. Castiel doesn't move, but he looks surprised, and the chair is in pieces. Winch is whimpering in fear again.

"Fuck you, Cass," Dean says softly, his voice shaking with fury. "Fuck you, do you have any idea what they're doing to her? How they're going to hurt her because of what you just did?" Dean's voice cracks, and the heartbreak and concern and fear are threatening to overwhelm him. "God dammit, Castiel."

The angel has the good sense to look apologetic. "Dean, I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to say yes."

Dean runs his hands through his hair, his mind racing, so upset he doesn't know what to do. "The next fucking person who tells me that is going to enter a world of hurt," he says gently, closing his eyes, wishing she was here with him, safe and happy.

Not knowing what else to do, he prays, and ignores Winch's panicked whine.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, Zachariah, yes, just bring me to her.

xxxxx

You have no idea what happened, but Zachariah is pissed when he gets back.

He foregoes just hitting you, and somehow, several huge cuts appear on your chest, and you can feel them opening up on your belly. It looks like a scalpel is running across your skin, but he's just staring at you with cold, dead eyes, his chest heaving.

The explosive, sharp pain has you biting your lips hard enough for blood to pool in your mouth to keep from crying out. You're breathing hard through your nostrils, and the only thing keeping you from screaming and weeping is Dean's voice in your head.

You've got this, princess, the pretend Dean says to you as another deep, terrible wound opens on your collarbone. You're doing so good, baby, be brave, I'm on my way.

You let your imagination take you away, deep into a fantasy about being in bed with Dean. Your dog is sleeping across your legs, and your face is pressed into that broad, strong chest. His arm is flung around your waist, his legs tangled with yours under Winch, and you're warm and happy and safe.

The pain blooming into your thigh brings you back to the horrific present, and you bite your lips together hard to keep from screaming out. Somehow, even though it's still pain, the fact that you caused the pain yourself centers you, and you keep your focus on your teeth sinking into sensitive flesh.

"Oh, you're good and stubborn, just like your jackass of a soulmate," Zachariah says softly, running an invisible blade along your skin to open you up. "But I'm sure he'll give in soon. To keep your lovely little self safe."

He stops and looks up, then smiles a vicious little smile again. "Ah, there he is," he mutters, before disappearing again.

You take the opportunity to drop your mouth open, and you let out a sob as you gasp for air. You have never in your life been in this kind of agony, and you're so scared that Dean has said yes to the archangel that you can barely think.

But that's not a luxury you have, so you take a deep breath to center yourself, and you open your eyes again. You look around at the room, absorbing the details, then look down at your arms.

I'm proud of you, princess, keep going.

You decide to start with your right arm. You brace yourself, then start to pulling backward, out of the rope. It's coming, slowly, the wiggle room you gave yourself by tensing as he bound you giving you leeway, as well as the sweat that's popped up on your skin. It's slow going, but you have no other choice, so you keep at it, slow and steady, not rushing yourself.

When it finally slips free, you blink, then look around the room. Part of you is convinced that this is a trap, that Zachariah's going to appear behind you and rip your arm off or saw it off or do something equally horrific. When the room stays silent, you nod and start to pull the rope off of the rest of your limbs.

You're doing so good, baby, just a little further.

With that done, you brace yourself and stand. It's not super hard, the bastard has really only cut up your front half, but the cut on your thigh is deeper than you thought it was, and you watch dispassionately as blood starts dripping down your leg.

You want to cry. You want to cry for days, you want to scream and rage and whimper and sob. You just want to crawl into a bed and wail. You want Winch, his big, comforting presence the rock that you've always clung to in a storm. You want Dean, his warm, strong arms around you, his deep voice whispering that it's going to be all right, you're safe now.

You want warmth, safety, comfort.

You want Dean, Winch, Sam, Cass, Bobby.

You want a shot of fucking tequila.

But instead, you walk forward to the door, take a deep breath, and open it.

xxxxx

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, Zachariah, yes just bring me to her.

The moment the last word rings through Dean's brain, he's transported away from Bobby's kitchen and into a room he recognizes from before Sam let Lucifer free. And Zachariah is there, smiling that stupid, smug smile.

The angel spreads his arms wide. "Dean!" He says genially, "So glad you could join us." He leans forward conspiratorially. "Between you and I, your little slut probably couldn't have taken much more indecision from you."

Fury blanks Dean's mind again, and he struggles against it. He has to be sharp, he has to be on his toes if he's going to rescue her. "Where is she? What did you do to her?" he asks, his voice cracked and emotional. He lets it stay that way, partially because he wants Zachariah to think he's desperate, and partially because he is desperate.

Zachariah shakes his head. "Not until you say yes. Not until you say yes to the big man."

Dean shakes his head back. "Proof of life, you bastard. I want to see her."

The angel steps forward and clasps his hands behind his back. "No, Dean, you seem to be under the impression that you're in charge here. I can assure you, you're not. You see, you're going to say yes to Michael, he's going to use you to defeat Lucifer, and then, and only then, will you get to see Y/N. Until that moment, until that fight, she's mine." Zachariah smiles coldly. "And I'm going to go ahead and tell you that you don't want her to stay that way for very long, Dean."

Dean just stares at him, fighting with himself, fighting his emotions back.

Zachariah misinterprets his silence as defiance. "Dean, come on, we can strike him now! We can strike before he gets his vessel! The casualties might be just… Half of what we think they'll be!" The angel has been stepping forward, insistent, his manic eyes wide.

Dean takes a deep breath. "Call him down, you motherfucker," he says softly. "Get him down here, fine, I'll say yes, just… Just don't hurt her anymore."

The glee on Zachariah's face makes Dean's stomach roll again. The other man tilts his head back and looks up. He begins to chant in Enochian. "Zodiredo, noco, aberamage, nazodpesade…" He looks back down at Dean and smiles. "He's coming now."

Dean nods, mind racing to find a way out of this, but he's more than willing to say yes if it will mean he can save her. She's going to be livid, but he's her soulmate, it's his job to protect her.

The room starts to shake, and light begins to emit from the ceiling, when the door opens.

xxxxx

When you open the door to exit the torture room, shock makes your mind go blank. You can't believe what you're seeing.

You're in the warehouse that the beautiful room is in, from the episode where the angels bring Adam Mulligan back. You can see the outside of the beautiful room, obviously shoddily built. You tilt your head out the door, and see that you're in a very similar room.

How stupid does everyone think I am? You think venomously, stepping forward and walking out of the room. You should be grateful that they keep underestimating you, but it's a little insulting. You hold onto that feeling as you walk toward the beautiful room, hoping that it will keep you going.

As you step toward the door, the sound of Dean's rumbling voice almost takes you out at the knees. You let the tears fall from your eyes, because there's no way to stop them.

"Proof of life, you bastard. I want to see her."

You nod and take a deep breath. Keep them busy, baby, give me some time.

You steel yourself and dip your finger into the wound on your leg. You whimper a little as pain washes through you again, but you have what you need. Almost. You close your eyes.

Cass, we're in Van Nuys, California, an abandoned muffler factory. It's the same place they keep the angelic green room. I'm going to need you in about two seconds, so get your ass here.

You start smearing blood on the wall just next to the door of the beautiful room.

xxxxx

The door opens to reveal Y/N, and Dean's heart stops in his chest.

She's covered in blood. The black sundress she was wearing hides some of it, but the low cut neckline gives him a clear view of the deep cuts on her chest, and the blood streaming down her leg tells him there's another one high on her thigh. Her eye is swollen shut, her lips are bloodied, and her left cheek has been split open.

His heart is broken looking at her.

She's the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on.

Zachariah hasn't seen her, he's still gloating. "This is really for the best, Dean, you'll see. You're doing a good thing here."

"He's not doing jack shit," she says, her voice raspy.

The angel whirls around, and Dean sees him tense in shock. "What the hell?" Zachariah asks softly.

"Fuck you," she says simply, before slamming her hand against the wall outside the door.

Zachariah screams and bursts into light. Dean shields his eyes, then opens them to see that the angel is gone, and the light that was shining from the ceiling has gone, too. She's swaying on her feet, tears falling down her face.

"Dean," she says softly. "You didn't say yes yet, did you?"

He runs the few steps to her, then gently presses a kiss to her forehead, his arm hesitating to wrap around her. "No, princess, I didn't."

She nods and leans into him. "Good." Then she steps back, away from him. "I'm sorry, I'm covered in blood," she says softly, tears still streaming down her face, still sniffling.

He frowns and steps forward to take her gingerly into his arms. "I don't give a fuck," he rasps, "I thought you were dead."

She whimpers and leans into him. "I thought so, too."

The fluttering of wings has Dean tensing, but when he turns, it's just Castiel standing there. The angel doesn't meet his eyes, just puts one hand on Dean's shoulder, and one hand on hers, and the world drops away from them.

They land in the kitchen, Sam and Bobby's shocked gazes falling on them. Dean looks down at her, and she smiles timidly up at him, her lip pulling open and bleeding again.

"Um, I think I'm going to pass out," she says softly, and her warning gives Dean just enough time to wrap his arms around her and catch her before she falls to the floor.

xxxxx

You're sitting up against the headboard the next night, arguing gently with Dean.

Sam apparently stitched you up while you were out, which you're grateful for. You're not sure how you even sustained that much pain, much less the pain of being tended to.

You've peeked beneath the bandages on your chest, stomach, and thigh. The stitches are small and neat, and there will probably be minimal scarring. There's nothing they can do for your face except wait it out. The swelling has already gone down significantly, so you can open your right eye a crack.

Dean has been hovering for the past twenty-four hours, insisting that you eat and bringing you medicine and even letting you wash some of it down with whiskey. He's been sweet and gentle and downright loving, and now he's being stubborn.

"Dean, please?"

He shakes his head. He's sitting on the bed next to you, his hand resting lightly on your shin. "No, Y/N, you need your sleep. What if I bump you in the night and open up your stitches?"

"Then Sam will sew me up again and I'll take more painkillers. Please?"

He shakes his head, but you can see in his eyes that you're getting to him. "No, Y/N."

"Dean," you say softly, "I… I don't think I can sleep without you." Which is true. The night before, once they'd gotten you back here, you had slept fitfully, your dreams filled with invisible scalpels and pools of blood and Zachariah.

He sighs deeply, and his eyes are filled with an unidentifiable emotion. "I can't, princess," he says hoarsely.

You frown, which hurts, but you ignore the pain. You take everything you know about Dean, the way he feels about himself and you and the world in general, and you use it to find out what's going through that lovely head.

"You think this is your fault," you say softly.

He just stares at you silently, and you sigh. "Dean, this is in no way your fault. It's the angel's, Zachariah's and Michael's. It's not yours."

He shakes his head. "If I had said yes-"

"Then they would have hurt me anyway," you interrupt firmly, "and we would be fucked six ways to Sunday and twice on Tuesday." You lean forward to take his hand in yours. "Dean, please don't feel guilty, or try not to, anyway. This is not your fault."

He looks away, and you wish he wouldn't. "Y/N, I'll just go sleep in me and Sammy's room."

And suddenly, you're too sad and angry and hurting and beyond exhausted to be nice anymore. "God dammit, Dean," you snap, releasing his hand and sitting back.

He turns back to look at you, frowning. "Princess, I-"

"No, fuck that," you say hotly, mad as fuck all of the sudden. "You don't get to feel guilty right now, understand? You don't get to do this to me."

The confusion on his face is growing. "Y/N, I-"

"You don't get to make me feel guilty about you feeling guilty, all right?" The tears are filling your eyes, and you fight to keep your composure. "I have been kidnapped and tortured, I had to stick a finger in my leg, I got sliced up, and now my fucking soulmate won't fucking sleep with me." The tears are spilling down your cheeks, and you raise your hand to wipe your face angrily, and then you wince because it hurts like a bitch. "So get your ass in this bed, Dean, because it's been a really long couple of days, and-"

Before you can continue, he's in bed next to you, his arms around you gently, his lips pressed against your temple. You turn and press your face into his neck, crying in earnest, overwhelmed by it all. He's murmuring soothing nonsense into your ear, his voice rumbling in his chest. He maneuvers the two of you so you're lying down side by side. He holds you close and rocks you gently back and forth, taking care with your injuries, which is somehow exactly what you need.

"You did so good, princess, you were so brave. Jesus, I'm so glad you're as smart as you are, I can't believe you got us out of that-"

He's whispering to you, saying the things you need to hear, gentle praise and affection.

You fall asleep with your face pressed into his shoulder, your tears still running down your cheeks, and his neverending dialogue in your ear.

xxxxx

Dean holds her as she cries, whispers to her, and remains firmly in a state of shock at the woman in his arms.

A woman who survived angelic "persuasion." A woman who managed to escape said angelic "persuasion." A woman who outsmarted that rat bastard Zachariah. A woman who managed to rescue herself, and Dean, from a situation that he was supposed to be rescuing her from. A woman who has had to explain over and over again what happened, get stitched up, and has hardly complained at all about the pain she's in.

A woman who put him in his place when his guilt and self-blame made him blind to her need.

A woman that he knows now that he's falling in love with.

xxxxx

**Hi everyone! Here's my notes:
I don't own Supernatural or the characters. (heartbroken)
Reviews, comments, and kudos give me the warm fuzzies and keep me going.
If there are any mistakes in continuity, canon, or geography, blame me.
**Happy holidays, beautiful readers! I hope everyone who celebrates Christmas had a good time, and everyone who doesn't ALSO had a good time. I actually celebrate Yule, and in case you aren't familiar, that means I stayed up all damn night and am now exhausted. On top of that, we're fostering five-week-old puppies (named Winch and Chester, wink wink), so the next chapter may take an extra day or two.
**PLEASE let me know what you think of this chapter. I have probably revised it six times in the past two days, between bottle feedings and gift wrappings. And, as always, thank you all for sticking with me.