Thanks so much for reading! Be sure to follow, favorite, and review! I really appreciate it. :)
Just a heads up, this chapter does contain torture.
Disclaimer: In no way do I have any rights to Supernatural or any of the characters you are familiar with. I only own Amriel and any OCs that pop up along the way.
Chapter Nineteen: Captive
Amriel had been alone for the past few hours. Urim, who had been had been torturing her, had grown tired of her screaming and the lack of information he was getting from her, so he decided to take a break. Before he left he had promised that he would be back, expecting her to think long and hard about telling him what he wanted to know.
She was too busy looking for a way to escape. A weakness in her bonds, a loose leg of the chair- anything, but Amriel couldn't find a way out. If she was stronger, maybe, but she had been in this same dark, tiny room for hours on end enduring the abuse from someone who was supposed to be a being of Heaven.
Angels weren't supposed to do this to each other, and the more Amriel thought about this, the angrier she became. Where was God in all of this? Where was Chuck? She wanted to shout at him- to ask how he could let the angels go this far? It was disgusting how far they had fallen.
Urim kept asking about Metatron's plans. He thought she and Castiel were helping him with whatever he was doing on Earth, and no matter how many times she told him otherwise, Urim didn't believe it.
Her injuries were healing slowly, if at all. She was bruised and torn apart, her skin stung and she was having trouble breathing. Had he broken her ribs? That would explain the searing pain she felt with every inhale and subsequent exhale. Urim had been slow and meticulous at first, tearing strips of flesh from her thighs and back and laying them out like meat. Once he got bored of that, he became more careless, cutting jagged lines across her chest with his blade, laughing when her grace shined through the deeper cuts.
"You're going to wish you had told me when you had the chance," he had told her before he left, and that's when Amriel had started to cry. She knew that crying was seen as a sign of weakness and refused to do it in front of him.
That had been hours ago, though. She strained to hear what was going on in the other room, where she knew Castiel was being held. And what had they done to Muriel? They were dealing with a similar treatment, she knew that much. Amriel wondered how Cas was holding up. Being human certainly meant that he wasn't healing immediately afterwards. She had promised to protect him and she had failed. Amriel heard footsteps from outside and the doorknob turned, signaling that Urim was back.
She took a deep breath and held her head up high, staring down the angel she would end as soon as she got the chance. He sent her a sneer, asking if she was ready to talk. When she didn't respond, Urim loosened his tie and picked up the blade every angel carried with them.
"Tell us what his plans are! Where is Metatron?" Urim hissed, his face a mere inch and a half away from Amriel's. Her eyes were shut tightly as she tried to recoil, but she was stuck where she was.
He picked up one of the many tools he had been using and dragged the sharp knife over her tear stained cheek and down her neck before jabbing it into her chest, twisting as he pulled it out slowly. Amriel was groaning, her voice long gone after hours of screaming.
All she could think about were the nights she spent with Cas, watching television or being intimate. She couldn't handle much more of Urim's torture, so her mind conjured a safe haven to try and dull the pain. It had been working so far, so Amriel focused on more specific memories to occupy her thoughts.
She remembered how they spent their first Christmas, and Marissa had forced them to kiss under mistletoe at the bar the three frequented. She thought of how they watched holiday movies and listened to Jingle Bells and the Twelve Days of Christmas, and when they exchanged gifts on Christmas morning. She had given him a watch, since he never knew the time or date, and he had gotten her a beautiful piece of jewelry— eight tiny, raw emeralds strung together on a thin silver chain that she had promised to never take off.
In the back of her mind she could hear Castiel's voice- he was praying to her, letting her know that they would be okay.
"Amriel, I'm not sure if you can hear me, but I'm going to try this anyways. I'm going to do whatever it takes to get us out of here. Please hold on for a little bit longer… I love you," his voice cut off and she realized that he must have been interrupted.
A sob escaped her and Urim laughed, "Come on, you've been so much fun. Tell me, what is Castiel planning with the Scribe? He is your lover, isn't he? None of us are surprised that rebellious little Amriel would turn out to be the traitor's whore. Do you know how bright your graces glowed when you were within twenty miles of one another in Heaven? Too bad the almighty Castiel is a human now- you two were destined to do great things together."
"Please, stop," she breathed, shaking as she felt her grace working overtime to heal all of the damage Urim had been doing to her. She had no idea how long she had been here for, but she had heard Castiel shouting in pain earlier. She pushed what he had revealed to her in the back of her mind and glared at him. "What are you doing to him? He isn't planning anything!"
"How could you choose him over everyone else? Over Heaven?" he was yelling now, screaming in her face as he thrust the blade into her stomach, and she realized that she would probably be dead by now if he had used his angel sword. "You're disgusting. Tainted. There will be no place for you in Malachi's kingdom."
Suddenly Urim's name was called from someone in the other room and he slowly backed away, turning to face the door as he set the knife down. "I'll be back for you later. We're nowhere near finished."
"I won't tell you anything," she told him, her eyes hard as she stared him down. "I love him, and nothing on Heaven or Earth will stop that."
Tensing, he took three, long steps across the small room and stood right in front of Amriel, taking a hold of her face and squeezing her cheeks roughly, making sure to leave bruises beneath the dirt and blood that covered her skin. "I remember when you were punished for rebelling. If you thought that was painful, you haven't seen anything yet."
"This is a bonus, Castiel. We were tracking Muriel, cowardly holdout that she is," Malachi motioned to Muriel, who was tied to a chair, and her face was just as bloody and bruised as Castiel's, "and wonder of wonders, she led us to you."
"Not knowingly," Muriel shot in defense, and Malachi rolled his eyes.
"I stand corrected. Not knowingly. Stupidly. And I was pleasantly surprised to find Amriel with you as well. We had been looking for her…"
"I've explained in detail," Castiel sighed. "I don't know how Metatron's spell worked. Therefore, I can't assist in reversing it. I was an unwitting accomplice."
Malachi let out a chuckle, "Ohhh, a dupe! The great Castiel. Valued and trusted Castiel!" He walked over to a tray of metal devices that sat near his hostage. "Top-of-the-Christmas-tree Castiel! No more than a dupe… Well, dupe or mastermind, you were inside the circle. You know where Metatron's weakness lies."
"No, I don't," Cas shook his head adamantly, trying to keep himself together despite being beaten not too long ago.
Sighing, Malachi called for Theo, who advanced on Castiel with an angel blade. Theo grabbed the former angel's hair and pulled his head back, earning a groan of protest as he dragged the blade down Castiel's chest.
"You'd suffer, even die, for your beliefs. I get it," Malachi said as he watched Theo work. "But is Metatron, whose poll numbers have totally tanked, worth your life? More importantly, is Metatron worth Muriel's life?"
"No, no. She's innocent! You leave her alone," Cas rasped before taking a deep breath and trying to will away the pain he felt.
Malachi hummed, saying that he had no intention of touching her. He looked to Theo, who nodded.
"Virtue is it's own punishment," Malachi told Castiel, who could only beg for them to stop.
Theo stabbed Muriel in the chest with the angel blade, and Castiel shut his eyes tightly to keep the bright, white light from burning them. In that quiet moment, Cas took the time to offer a silent prayer to Amriel, and he hoped that she could hear him despite what was being done to her.
"Amriel is next if you continue to lie to me, Castiel. I can tell you've become fond of her, and I know Urim is having fun with her right now."
"Leave Amriel out of this," Cas wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to her. "She has nothing to do with Metatron. Angels butchering angels. Is this what we've become?"
"Just following your example, Castiel. How many did you kill in Heaven? How many in the Fall?" Malachi saw a confused look cross his bruised face. "Oh, you didn't know? A host of angels died when they fell— Azrael, Sophia, Ezekiel… 'Died' doesn't even begin to describe it. Devastation. Wings shredded, unspeakable agony at your hands. So, I think you would want to provide any information you have, considering.."
When Castiel didn't reply, he shrugged. "All right. I leave you in the hands of an artist."
Malachi turned to Theo and said, "I don't care what's left" before calling for Urim. When the angel finally appeared from behind the closed door, the two disappeared, but not before Castiel could see that Urim was covered in blood that clearly wasn't his own.
Cas hoped that Amriel had heard his prayers to her. It was all he could do to let her know that he was alive and that he hadn't given up.
Theo stood in front of Cas and grabbed a drill from the tray, turning it on to make sure it worked.
"I'll give you one last chance for this to end," Theo told him, and Cas shook his head, closing his eyes and tilting his face up.
"Give me a quick death," was all he said, and then he waited for his life to end. He would never see Amriel again. He would never hear her laughter, or feel her skin against his. His life was going to end, and then Malachi would most likely kill her too-
"I need you to speak to Metatron. Everyone knows you have influence."
Castiel's eyes shot open and he stared up at Theo, amazed by his statement. This could be his chance to escape- to get Amriel and run.
"He'll listen to you. Ask him to raise me to Heaven. You can do this, Castiel. I'll be a soldier for Metatron, do anything he wants." Theo seemed convinced that this was the right decision for Cas to make, when really it was probably the worst thing imaginable.
"You- you serve Malachi," Cas tried to understand why he had defected.
"I thought he was the answer, but he's crazy."
Castiel stared at his brother, someone he had fought beside in countless battles over the centuries, wondering where everything had gone wrong. "You're just noticing this now? You were more than willing to do his dirty work."
"I did what I had to do," Theo told him, and Cas shook his head sadly and said, "When you were sure he would beat Bartholomew."
"But no one will survive this war. Perhaps if you ask Metatron, he will restore your grace."
Those words hit him harder than any punch he had received while being tortured. He knew exactly what he had to do in order to protect himself and Amriel, and he only hoped he could get through to Theo and get out of this place.
"Okay, it's true. I still have a working relationship with Metatron, and he could use a skilled soldier like yourself. Oh, but I don't know…"
"I-I'm a team player, Castiel," Theo offered eagerly, and Cas sent him a fake smile.
"All right. Well?" He gestured to his handcuffs, and Theo undid them quickly. "We have to get Amriel. I won't go anywhere without her."
"Of course. And then what?"
"I'll need a moment to make contact with Metatron, and you have something that I'll need."
Theo nodded as he walked towards the door where Amriel was being held, "Anything, brother."
Cas grabbed a scalpel off of the tray that held all of the weapons they had been using on him, and he latched onto the back of his jacket and swung him around, holding the blade to his throat.
"I'm sorry, brother, but I have to do this." Castiel sliced into his throat and breathed in the grace that flowed out of the wound. Once the grace had transferred, Cas pressed his hand against Theo's forehead and watched as bright light flooded from his eyes and Theo fell to the floor, dead.