I'm still in the chair when I awake. My body aches, the stinging is still there, but a lot less painful. I blink again, it's the only thing that doesn't hurt to move. I'm tired. I probably passed out. I have no idea how long I've been here. Or where here is. I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, and I have to pee again. I close my eyes, and...just wait.

It's a long wait...I think. Don't really know. I just concentrate on not pissing my pants. Try to remember what my angle was in this whole escapade. I'm still groggy.

The door opens eventually, and I don't like the words I hear.

"Hello Chew Toy." I stay silent. I don't want a repeat of...however long ago that was. "Good. Ready to talk? Well, answer... Or scream. I'm not really picky." I stay silent again. I still don't know what he wants. "So, what do I do to you so this never happens again? We are in an unusual circumstance. Usually, if Anyone did this to me, I'd torture them, kill them, then torture them some more, then Rip Their Fucking Soul Apart On The Rack. But..." He stops in front of me and I hear the clanking of metal as he goes over whatever tools are on the table. "Our little contract prevents me from killing you! So, you see my dilemma." He circles me, pausing occasionally to make me tense up, anticipating an attack, but nothing comes. "Well, I made a contract with you to advise me, so advise me. Tell me, What should I do to make sure this never happens again?" I blink, squint, and shake my head. I feel like I should speak, I need to say something, help him. But I can't think straight.

"Well, my first piece of advice is heal me….so I can actually give you good advice."

"Mmmm. No. I want Truth, and addled minds...well." I wince.

"At least let me pee. That won't be fun for anyone."

"I disagree, it'd be hilarious. Talk." No choices left, and a deal was a deal. I can't go back.

"Well firstly, you don't have to do anything. I'm not doing it again."

"Really. This little measly bit of pain has Guaranteed that you won't pull a stunt like that again?"

"No. It is guaranteed I won't pull That stunt again, but not because of the torture." My head swims, I know ...I think I know where I'm going with this. "And you're asking the wrong question. It's not what will stop me, it's why did I do it." There's silence it stretches as I sway a bit in the chair.

"Well? If you make this like pulling teeth, I'll take that simile literally."

"To give you...information." The pain in my wounds has become a slight sting, but it's everywhere, it itches. It's hard to concentrate with it and my hunger and other things tearing through my senses. "You...now know that I'm capable of thinking like you. Maybe not at your level, maybe not as fast, but I can do it. So….I'm figuring somewhere in the contract is a clause, or lack thereof, about suicide, and what happens in the case of that type of 'unnatural' death…" I pause, concentrating, unable to concentrate, trying to think and hold my bladder and ignore the painful itching stings. I decide to just go for it and let the words spill out of me. "You drive me to it. It might void the contract, perhaps I'll just go down there early, but it's an option. You make my life Hell, try to drive me to it...I'll know it's you, or assume it even if it isn't. I don't know, but it's a thought that has occured. Secondly...You know my pain tollerance, have a better idea of how quickly I'll go mad if you torture me. Perhaps try to get me to ramble about the online trap and void my contract. But...a contract needs both parties to agree on the definition of something...unless it's pre-defined in your files, which I'm guessing the word 'tell' isn't." He's been quiet, letting me ramble, digging my grave or saving myself, I had no clue, but he was letting me do it. Now however he pipes up.

"And why would you assume that, Chew Toy?"

"Three more points. One: you said this is a unique situation. Two: no one would argue for the definition of tell, in the specific situation of insanity, for the person hearing the info to believe and understand. Because I believe that in order to tell someone something, both people need to have intent and belief. If I'm insane, I have no intent, and the person hearing has no belief. No one has come back to argue this point because once they are insane...well you're not coming back from that to argue. If they've told and died, then it's a moot point and their soul is yours. Three...I...I can't remember three. Still, betting you don't have that written down and defined somewhere. So if we...right point three. If we disagree on the definition of something in the contract, an addendum must be made or that entire point is moot until we agree." He's been standing behind me, I can feel him regarding me, out of sight so I can't see his reactions. Out of sight so I don't know if an attack is coming. Out of sight to try to scare me and make the hairs on my neck stand up. Well it's working. "So now you know that I am...no….look. I really have to pee and neither of us want to work, or be worked on, smelling that."

"Still don't care. So, the whole point of this was to…" I swallow and steel myself.

"Make sure I'm more than a Chew Toy that you'll throw away after a month. " He leans down and whispers in my ear.

"A Chew Toy that costs $50 is still a Chew Toy. Brave or stupid, my Chew Toy, will still squeak."

"I'm niether brave nor stupid, and it wouldn't matter. I'm here giving you information because I'm counting on you being smart and putting all the info together. Showing that uh…you...shouldn't mess up your goose's fathers, or your chew toy's luster so fast." The walking stops, him out of sight, silent. No clue where he is standing.

"So...the point of this was to teach me a lesson?"

"No! Give you information!"

"Darling, I've been inside you, twice now, there is Nothing I don't know about you!"

"Of course there is! Why? Because there is stuff I don't know about me. I have no idea what I'm capable of in a situation until I'm fucking placed in it! I believed I could withstand a certain amount of pain, but I had no fucking proof until today! That's what's so problematic about humans, Crowley, even we never really know what we're gonna do."

There is silence. I'm sweating, my bladder no longer hurts, for now, but the rest of my body aches. The silence compounds it. And when it is broken, it's right next to my ear.

"So this was recon, on yourself, for both of us."

"I...guess?" There's a snap and relief floods through me. The salt. Gone. He runs his hands lightly up one arm and down the other, closing all the cuts.

"Use me in your recon again? I'll break off your legs and feed them to the Hellhounds."

"I'm kinda hurt you wouldn't eat them yourself."

"Keep taunting darling. I'll peel off your skin and turn it into crisps."

I'm back home. In front of my bathroom. I hurry to the kitchen...clock says 9:35. An hour after I'd left. And that's when I knew…

I'd been in Hell.

And I have no idea if any of the conjectures I made were right, or if they had any effect….

...Bollocks.