The march was long and arduous. The initial beatings from the angels had left me battered and limping on my left side. They'd said it was about a four or six hour walk from here to where they wanted us, but my limping was more than likely extending it.

When I tripped over a particularly nasty root, that was where the angels let out an annoyed sigh.

"Get back up." One of them ordered, poking me with its feet. My hands were tied behind my back securely, stopping me from being able to get back up quickly. "Get up, human." It sneered, kicking me to the side this time. I let out a groan of pain, curling in on where I'd been kicked.

"She can't." Ketch said blatantly. "You have her hands behind her back and have probably fractured her ribs. It's impressive she's made it this far." His expressions were neutral once more, as was his face.

"If she can't walk," a different angel decided. "Then she can be dragged."

"That'll just kill her." Ketch mused. He sounded disinterested, as though analyzing the situation for tactical reasoning instead of being another prisoner. "You drag her around, bang her around too much, and eventually she gets her head on a harder rock or dies from internal bleeding."

"I think that sounds like a fine way to kill her." The angel agreed.

"You're forgetting," I pointed out, finally rolling into a position where I was sitting up right. It hurt like hell, but I needed to. "Michael wants me alive." A few of the angels looked at me in fury at those words. "He wants the information I have, and I bet he gets really, really pissed when you guys kill the people he wants interrogated instead."

"Who's to say we won't interrogate you here and now?" An angel asked. The emphasis they put on the word "interrogate" was one that suggested it would end in my death.

"You would've done it already." Ketch pointed out. He sounded as though he was bored by this, actually. "That's an easy one."

None of the angels spoke, all of them looking around at each other angrily. They didn't like that we were right. They didn't like that we knew we were right.

"I liked the you that talked less better." One angel decided, staring at me. I shrugged apathetically, choosing to mimic Ketch's bored demeanor. This just made the angel angrier. "Can't we just kill her here?"

"No." A blonde angel, one that appeared to be there leader, was firm in this. "Michael's orders. But," I could see him thinking. "We're almost to the site. You all," he pointed to a group of angels. "I have a special assignment for you. Summon the specialist." The angels he pointed at looked around at each other, mixtures of fear and sadistic glee in their eyes. "Tell him I've got one he'll probably be interested in."

The angels disappeared in a flurry, too excited. The others stood around, waiting for their orders.

"You three," he points at three more angels. "Stay. The rest of you, continue your patrols as normal." The rest of the angels ran to the trees in small groups, save for the three he'd pointed out. The angel looked down at me, thinking.

"Who's your specialist?" I asked, offering an eyebrow. "Someone to deal with that hair situation of yours?"

"You'll be easier to manage if you're quiet." He decided, his foot coming around to connect with my jaw. It was lights out at that point.

I woke up in a chair. Ketch was across from me. My arms and legs were bound tight, leaving me no room to really struggle. Ketch was put in a device hanging from the ceiling, keeping him standing, but his arms bound high above his head.

"You're awake." He commented. "They'll be coming back in soon, then. Wanted to wait on starting the fun until you could fully appreciate it."

"How thoughtful." I muttered, looked at my situation in comparison to his. "Why am I the one stuck in the chair?"

"Patriarchal choices." Ketch offered. "Can't very well tie up a woman like me, oh no. Must keep her bound to the chair."

"I don't quite get what you're saying," I admitted. "But it sounds funny. Is it supposed to be funny?"

"Sarcastic humor."

"Got it." I let out a small laugh. "We're completely and utterly screwed."

"That we are."

"Why did you stay, then?" I asked. "You knew this would be a death sentence the second I opened my mouth. Why'd you move away?"

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about it." He responded. I could agree to that.

"OK." I thought for a few moments. I still had more I wanted to ask, and honestly, I wasn't going to get a better time to. "Mary told me you knew me." I stated. Ketch nodded.

"Yes." He looked away at that. "I did." The way he said it sounded as though something was wrong with that.

"I don't remember you." I admitted softly. "I'm sorry." He just let out a hoarse laugh.

"It's probably better that way." He said. "We weren't exactly friends."

"We weren't?" I knew the answers, but I wanted to hear them from him.

"No." He looked away again. "Not even close."

"Were we enemies?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Circumstance." He said bluntly. "That was how the cards were stacked. Those were the orders we had."

"I don't know much about the person I was," I said. "In your world, anyways. But I'm pretty certain I'm not the type to take orders, no matter the circumstance." Ketch fought back a small smirk.

"No. You really aren't." He agreed. "I am, though. I take them and give them, like a good soldier." He spat the last words out angrily. "And I jump from ship to ship like a rat at sea, keeping myself afloat however I can."

"Mary said you wanted to kill me. Did we try to kill each other?" I asked. Ketch looked over at me in surprise. "You said we were enemies. Mary told me some stuff. It made sense."

"Yes." He said. "You promised to kill me. Actually, I think your exact words were that you'd burn me."

"Oh."

"You had good reason." He promised. "I… I've done terrible things, in the name of order and duty. I've done things that made me," he let out a sigh. "The very monster that I tried to eradicate from the world."

"You're talking to a witch." I pointed out. "I think I'm technically a monster too."

"You're not." He argued firmly. "Trust me. I've seen real monsters. I tried to make myself see you as one; I tried for well over a year." He shrugged. "But in the end, you never were, and that just made me want to see you as one even more." He sat back a little, looking down at the floor beneath us.

"That's why you didn't leave." I muttered. "That's why you moved away when I tried to get you out." He paused for a few moments, then nodded.

"I didn't deserve an easy way out." He said. "I know what we're both headed towards. I'm certain I can guess how much worse it would've been for you if you were alone."

"You really should've left me, then." I said.

"Why is that?"

"Because we both know how bad it'll be." I replied. We both sat on those words for a while, mulling them over. Our chances of walking out were slim to none. I could still get Ketch out, but my hands were bound and I was far enough away so that I couldn't touch him. I couldn't really get myself out, the thought of it brought back Kevin's voice screaming at me.

Hell, I was only barely certain that I'd gotten Charlie to the right place.

And I had no idea how to do anything I told them I could do. I could do magic, yes. I'd proved that. But I didn't know how I did it, much less how to control it perfectly. I wasn't even certain what all I could do.

I knew, the moment I spoke up and revealed myself, that I was signing myself over to certain death at best. Jack and Mary had told me some of what Michael did. Seeing what happened to Kevin told me more than anything else could've.

At best, they'd kill me when they found out I couldn't do anything.

At worst, they would never let me die.

"Any advice?" I asked finally, looking over at Ketch. He thought for a few moments on that.

"Don't lose your mind." He answered automatically. "When in the face of torture, they will try to break your mind and spirit. The spirit can be broken, and people can stop believing in whatever it is they believe in. Sheer spite will still keep them from saying a word. But if a person has their mind broken," his voice petered off.

"Alright." I agreed. "Don't lose my mind."

We stayed as we were in silence. There wasn't much else to say. Asking about my past from him would give away too much to any angels listening in (there had to be a reason they didn't gag us, after all). Him telling me anything else about anything else I can do would be too much. Even the amount that was said was a lot, but it didn't give any important details away.

We were both resigned to our fates. We would either die, or wish every day that they would just kill us already.

For a brief moment, I wondered if Ketch had done the same thing to anyone. He had given advice as though he had been on both sides of torture before, and in truth he probably had been.

For another brief moment, I wondered if I had ever been one of the ones that he had tortured; if he had only kept me alive to break me and gain information from me at some point.

I didn't have a good answer. I didn't want one.

When the angels came back in, there was nothing but pain. There's no other way to describe it. They took their time punishing me for the deaths of their brethren before they even got to asking me questions. One of them made sure I had a tally of every single angel that died at both my hands and the hands of the me from this world; their names, spelled in Enochian, carved across the expanse of my body with an angelic blade.

By the time they were through, there were very few parts of me that didn't have a name carved into it.

For Ketch's credit, he did shout that what they were doing was monstrous and inhuman after the first name. He argued that the exercise was futile, and only done out of revenge.

The angels sliced names into him too after that. Not as many, but enough into his ribs.

I wish I could say that I bore the torture in silence, as Ketch did. I wish I could say that I kept myself impassive in the face of the angels. I wish I could say that they did not get the pleasure of hearing me scream; some words were nonsense, other words were pleas, others were nothing close to words at all but instead a primal scream of agony.

But I can't say that. I can't say that at all.

So instead I'm going to skip over the rest of this part, for the moment. I don't even wish I had the capacities to explain everything they did, purely out of spite. All I will say is that by the time they got to the actual questioning, I was impressed that they still had the gall to call themselves angels.

"How did you transport the other fugitive away from us?" The first angel asked. I would've shrugged if they hadn't dislocated my shoulder. Instead I just pursed my lips.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" The angel sounded bewildered by that phrase.

"I don't know." I repeated adamantly.

"How did you conceal the fugitive from us?" They tried again. I couldn't help but fight back a small smile. It'd worked. Wherever she'd ended up, they couldn't find her.

"I don't know."

The questioning continued like that for a while. They moved from torturing me to torturing Ketch at each question I couldn't answer, and I just laughed. If I'd known more songs, I probably would've started singing them.

Someone was screaming at me, asking what was so funny.

"Dean had been so mad at me that I hadn't done my job right." I heard myself saying. I was laughing. I was tortured and bound and laughing. "And apparently he didn't do so good either! And the King of Hell looks like a damn tomato, and I'm trapped in a room run by demons with a prophet of the friggin' lord that outsmarted the Winchesters, you, and everyone!" I was still laughing, still laughing and laughing and laughing.

Kevin was beside me. I don't know how I knew, but I knew. He was beside me and he was laughing right along with me. Both of us were laughing, laughing in the face of imminent death and torture instead of crying, screaming, or begging for our lives. We just laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed.

It wasn't long after that before we were separated. I didn't know where Kevin went. He had been important, they weren't going to kill him, but other than that I didn't know.

I was alone in a cell, tied to a chair that reeked of my own blood, piss, sweat, and shit. I kept up my odd act of defiance, singing song I could only barely hear words to and making up stories when I was tired and bored and out of ideas for songs.

I was doing whatever I could that wouldn't give anything away to the enemy.

I fought and fought and did everything I could to prove they couldn't get to me.

I blinked out of the memory to see Ketch staring at me pretty bewildered. I'd been laughing. That just made me laugh more. I could almost hear a song coming to mind.

I think it was then that Ketch truly understood that I didn't come here with some sort of an escape plan; some hope of getting rescued. Logically, sending Ketch and Charlie away would ensure survivors to what happened, and would implant the idea of a rescue team.

But tactically, that probably wouldn't happen. There was no way to tell how many angels were outside of here now. Michael wanted me, and he'd be coming at some point. Coming after me was a stupid choice, one that would kill more people than save them.

So even though I'd imagined the idea of a rescue time, I knew it wouldn't be coming.

I just didn't want them to suffer along with me.

I offered Ketch a glance, just once, to make sure he was alright. He nodded me on, encouraging my lack of available answers.

That was all I needed to keep going.

We kept it up for I don't know how long, neither of us giving straightforward or correct answers anymore. If I was asked about my magic, I said that I was taught. When they asked who by, I answered their mothers. If Ketch was asked about the people or the encampments, he gave vague and angering answers.

After a few hours went by, they left us alone for a little bit. There were discussions outside from the angels. We couldn't hear them well, or at least I couldn't.

"How're you doing?" I asked Ketch. He let out a puff of air.

"I'm fine. You?"

"Not bad." I stated. "I don't like that they left."

"Me neither."

"What do you think they're doing?"

"Waiting for us to say something without them being here." Ketch decided. "Or planning even worse tortures. Maybe even calling Michael here himself."

"Damn."

We didn't say anything else, just waited for the angels to come back in. When they did, though, neither of us were prepared for what was next.

"Here," one of the angels said, tossing something at me. "Catch."

The second the object landed in my lap I screamed. It was just a small little cloth bag, but the instant I came in contact with it I became nauseous and pained all at once. It was… It was difficult to describe. If there was a word beyond agony, I didn't remember it.

I howled in pain, thrashing about in the chair to try and knock the thing off of me. Eventually it fell to the floor, but that only lessened the pain – not removed it.

"So, you are a witch." One of the angels said. They sounded almost in awe of the idea. I heard Ketch swear quietly behind me. The angel looked behind me at the other one, and I could see them smiling. "He'll be pleased."

"Who will?" I asked. The angels ignored me, still smiling. "Who's coming?!" For a moment, I was scared. What if they'd called Michael, and he was coming? I'd heard enough from others to know that whatever the angels were doing to us now, Michael would make it infinitely worse.

"This is your last chance." The angel behind me said, presumably talking to Ketch. "You don't have to face what the witch will. Just answer my questions and we'll make sure your suffering ends." The angel in front of me offered a wicked smile.

"It's too late for you." He assured me.

"Can you repeat the question?" Ketch asked, boredom prevalent in his tone. The angels spun me around in the chair, making sure I had a clear vision as the other one drove his fist into Ketch's ribs. I heard one crack, and Ketch let out a grunt of pain.

"How many fighters do you have?" Ketch's assailant asked. "Where's your battalion based?" Ketch took a few breaths before lifting his head. He looked… Defeated. He looked tired and done and more than a little defeated. I could see him considering something, considering talking and speaking and telling them things.

"Are you familiar with a place called Boardwalk?" He asked. I kept my face neutral, but I was confused inside. What was he talking about?

"No." The angel stated.

"Well, it's very near Park Place." Ketch continued. "Go to Oriental Avenue and take the B&O Railroad straight to Hell." I couldn't hold back a smile this time, and the other angels saw it. Whatever Ketch was talking about, he was being an ass to all of them.

The angel closest to him responded by slashing his blade down Ketch's torso. Ketch kept breathing, eventually letting out a hoarse laugh.

"Hmm… Is that all you've got to make me talk?" He asked, smiling. "Because if that's it, then I must say, this whole day has been quite pathetic."

"Don't worry." The angel next to me crooned. "I've sent for an expert in these matters. He'll be able to make you talk." The angel paused, glancing over at me. "Both of you." As he finished speaking, I heard the sound of tires rolling on dirt, coming closer.

We all waited in silence – myself and Ketch in pensiveness, and the angels in excitement. Ketch and the angel closest to him were illuminated in the headlights of a car. I watched as the angel leaned forwards and whispered a few words to Ketch. He offered me a glance of despair.

"You'll learn to be more obedient after this." The angel told me. All of us fell silent as footsteps approached the door. When it opened, the face I saw was… Surprisingly familiar, but at the same time wrong. There wasn't any better way to describe that face. I was certain I'd seen those features before, but this time they were contorted wrongly. His hair was too slicked and oily. His eyes were too narrow, with one of them clouded over. His stance and his posture were too rigid and exact.

"Good evening, Castiel." The angels greeted, offering the new player a bow.