Please don't kill me! I know I've been missing for about a month and a half now, but I have plenty of reasons, believe me. Mainly it involves a One-Act Play competition that ate up ALL of my time (and I'm not kidding either. Rehearsal every day after school and most of the competitions were 18-20 hour, all day affairs). But I'm back now with a short interlude that will hopefully get me back into writing every week now. Thank you to whydoesitmatter1 for following and Klaus MacGrath for favoriting. Big shout out to VoviaVolcano and tremerid for reviewing. As always, this chapter would not have happened without my beta, KatsatheGraceling, who was on to me every week to see if I had time to write a chapter. I've kept you waiting long enough, onto the story!

The darkness was all he knew. The darkness and the pain. He had long ago given up hope of rescue. He knew that nobody out there was listening.

Their names were Luclin and Ivon. He had never heard of the two before. Lucifer had kept them very well hidden. He doubted that even Raphael and Gabriel knew of their existence. Lucifer must have had a plan for them long before he was thrown into the cage, for these were humans, born long after the event. Lilith had been entrusted to create loyal servants for her master. Ones that would do as he wished and ones that would always remain at his side.

Drops of his blood, given to two children in the early days of humanity. Their powers could be bested by none other than the archangels themselves, of which none had known of their existence, save Lucifer. They were trained in hell itself by the most powerful knights and Lilith herself. He shuddered to think of what had happened down there, for all of their humanity was lost. All that remained was a cold, hard determination to rescue their master and a distinct indifference towards the loss of life. Alpha-witches, they called themselves. Even though they did not sire a bloodline leading off from them, they did have claim to being the first humans with supernatural ability granted by the forces of hell.

He supposed that in some ways he was fortunate that they cared little enough that they spoke freely in front of him on many subjects. He knew that they had worked their way into practically every government on Earth-that-was after Lucifer had been thrown back into the cage. They had been the ones responsible for the creation of the Alliance and for River's predicament. They would brag that they had just been looking for intelligent individuals to become the new leaders of Lucifer's army, but they had been handed a prophet instead. They avoided the subject of her escape and the consequent chase through the universe. He prayed that they would never reach her. He wasn't sure of their need for her, but it was certain that nothing good could become of two servants of Lucifer having control of a prophet.

He supposed that many would have killed him after he refused to give them her location, but these two men had decided to leave him alive. Whether for a bargaining chip or something else, he did not know. While his position among the angels was high, it appeared that they did not care for some blackmail of that sort. They were only concerned with River. None of the other angels knew that he had been captured. It was normal for them to not meet for months on end and he had only been missing for a month. In that time, he could feel that no harm had come to River, but he also had not felt her move. He wasn't sure if Kaylee had found a new place for the trio to settle, but there had been no need for him to worry for quite some time.

His head tilted slightly to one side as he felt a change in the prophet's position. He was hanging in the center of a room, his hands chained to the ceiling, his feet to the floor. His body was bloody and broken. To most, his head tilt would just appear as a slight lull in his neck, but to his captors, that tiny movement had them questioning.

"The angel lives," Ivon stated, narrowing his eyes. "Perhaps we have not been trying hard enough, Brother."

"Enough, Ivon," Luclin said sharply. "You know our purpose and you know his mission. A protector of the prophet is more valuable in our hands than dead. He still has use."

He wanted to ask them what more use they could possibly have for him, but the gag in his mouth stopped him.

Luclin walked towards him slowly. "Where is the prophet, Castiel?"

He turned his head away as much as he could.

"I said, where is she?!" Luclin demanded and backhanded him across the face, the latex covering his hand making the sting more pronounced. His head snapped to the side and he felt the neck of his vessel snap for what must've been the hundredth time since he had been captured. With effort, he moved his face back towards the witch. The gag had moved, enabling him to speak.

"Safe," he spat, blood going into his captors eyes.

Luclin merely grimaced and wiped it away with a white handkerchief. "Always the same answer. But I guarantee that she will not be so for long."

"We will have her, Brother," Ivon said. "And soon, our master will be called from the depths to greet his new army."

He could do nothing as the two brothers left the room, leaving him only with himself and his thoughts. Let her be safe. Protect her, Kaylee.

Short and sweet. Well... not sweet, but it definitely introduced a lot of plot in there and answers some questions about where Castiel has been. Again, I'm so sorry that it's taken this long to get this out there, and, as my beta said, "Get this thing posted and let them know you're not dead!" I'm still trying to get use to writing this story again, but know that if I ever disappear again, I WILL be back. I will never let this story, or any of mine, be abandoned. I'll see you next Sunday!