"Hello boys."
The open door revealed a woman dressed in white, her wild curls blowing slightly in the evening breeze. The pale fabric made her warm, caramel coloured skin seem flawless and giving both Dean and Cas the impression that she may be a minor goddess. Most captivating, though, were her eyes, which were a deep brown that seemed to just keep going. If she hadn't been holding them captive, Dean would've been almost desperate to get her into bed with him.
"Who are you?" he demanded, forcing himself to ignore how beautiful she was. If he gave her the chance, she might try to use it against him. "What do you want with us?"
She laughed warmly like he'd just cracked her favourite joke, "Easy, sugar; one at a time. My name is Jada."
"What do you want with us?" Dean snarled. She may be beautiful, but she was already getting on his nerves.
"I don't want anything with you," Jada explained. "It's the angel I'm interested in. You were just in the way and you caused me a fair bit of trouble. I didn't want you tracking us."
Cas groaned quietly on the other side of the unit, "What do you want with me?"
Jada smiled, moving to kneel down in front of him. With one quick motion, she reached forward and plucked three feathers from near the base of his left wing as he howled in pain. Dean struggled against his bonds, shouting that he'd kill her if she touched Cas again.
"Oh quiet," she snapped in annoyance, waving a hand in his direction. "They'll grow back just fine."
"What," Cas repeated, panting as he recovered from the pain. "Do you want from me?"
Patting his knee, Jada stood up and headed over to where Dean was still struggling against his bonds. "Do you know how powerful angel feathers are for spellwork? Grace? Tears? Blood? Even the most skilled witches only have a single feather or a few drops of blood at a time. I've got an entire angel!"
Dean nodded. "You're a witch," he spat.
"No, sugar, I'm a businesswoman."
With that, she lowered the door, leaving them alone again.
Two days later…
Cas was starting to get weak. He wasn't talking as much as he had in the beginning, instead leaning his head against his shoulder and wrapping his wings around himself for warmth. His shirt was gone, probably removed by Jada to give his wings room to materialize. Like Dean, his hands were bound above his head.
"Dean?" he breathed after an achingly long silence.
"What is it buddy?" the hunter replied, still searching for anything he could use to pick the lock on his shackles. So far, he hadn't found so much as a nail in the wall that he could get to.
"How do the two of us always manage to have the worst luck in this universe?"
"I don't know man," Dean chuckled.
The door raised up again and Jada stepped through, "Imagine that. I've already got an order for a couple of angel tears."
Cas lifted his head. "As a good friend of mine once said, bite me," he snarled weakly. She laughed.
"Oh, I intend to," Jada laughed. "This offer will earn me more money than I could make selling every feather and every drop of your blood for a year. I'll do whatever the hell I have to to make you shed a few tears."
"You would have to do more to me than you are physically capable."
Dean sat silently, watching the whole thing go down. He knew that no matter what he said, he'd only make things worse for them in the long run. All he could do to help his friend now was make sure he found some way to get them out of here.
It wasn't easy, though. In fact, to sit silently while his best friend was tortured went against everything he stood for. But he did. Cas was beaten and sliced at and poked and prodded in so many ways, Dean was sure he'd never get the angel's screams out of his ears. It was the kind of wrong that chilled him to the bone.
What felt like hours passed. Although Dean was fairly certain that it had only been a little while, Jada was growing impatient. Her dress was stained with blood splattered down the front, and her eyes had a glint in them that Dean vaguely remembered from the Pit. She didn't even seem human anymore.
"Why won't you just drop a tear already?!" She shouted. Each word was punctuated by harsh blows, but they only earned small groans from the now exhausted Castiel. "I guess I'm just gonna have to get really creative."
Picking up the small bag that Dean had been eyeing, she pulled out a jar of holy oil. Dean hoped she'd just use it for a spell to make his friend cry. He was wrong.
Instead, she poured the liquid over both of the angel's wings, listening to him whimper as he was weakened by its properties.
"Last chance," she warned. There was a book of matches in her hand. Dean half prayed that Cas would just give in.
With all the strength he seemed to have left, Cas lifted his head and spat blood onto her skirt.
Jada struck one of the matches, "Wrong decision."
I don't really have anything to say today except that I already have part of the next chapter prewritten. Guys, this is probably among the darkest pieces I've ever written, and I've written some pretty dark stuff before.
As always, don't forget to favourite, follow and review! I don't really have a happier-than this time. I've gotta go look at some pictures of puppies and stuff.