-Hurt!Cas this chap!-
12
God Must Be Busy
As soon as those two angels grabbed my arms I was somewhere else. A big, concrete room with a high ceiling. It was so unbelievably cold. Bumps rose on my arms that stung.
The angels let me go and I fell to my knees, trembling. I looked up.
Zachariah and five other angels stood behind him, not counting the ones who had just dropped me here.
Zachariah was smirking at me, a thoughtful finger pressed to his chin. "Clothes, off."
"Wh-what?" I asked, my throat still burning painfully.
"I said…" He clenched his fist. My insides went with it, churning horribly. I doubled over, crying out at the sudden horrible pain. "Clothes off."
"Okay, okay," I gasped, the pain subsiding.
My shaking hands went to the hem of my shirt. It was halfway over my head when I realized that I didn't want to take off my clothes. I didn't want these people, some of whom I didn't even know, to see me naked. But if I didn't do this then Zachariah would hurt me more, and I didn't want that either. I was already in pain.
"Go on, now," the angel urged, sending another wave of blinding pain through my stomach. I let out a sob, the sound escaping my throat on its own.
I dropped my shirt to the ground, my hands going to the waistband of my pants. Some of the angels were laughing now, and that only made this awful feeling worse. I kept my head down, tears on my cheeks, sniffling.
I was whimpering lightly, the sobs coming in quiet gasps, when I went to remove my undergarments. The laughter and snickering continued. I fell back to my knees.
"Now there's a good soldier," Zachariah chuckled. With the tilt of his head chains came down from the ceiling, shackles closed around my wrists and I was hauled up mercilessly.
My arms were high above my head. I was standing on the balls of my feet because I was so high off the ground. My breath came in small gasps, shaking in fear.
"Oh yes, there's no doubt in my mind that Sam and Dean will be here very shortly. And if they aren't, well, then I suppose we'll find some way to pass the time."
He stepped toward me, thinking once more.
"You're new to this whole human thing, aren't you?" I didn't answer. Zachariah was cruel, and he knew just how to hurt me. And he wouldn't hesitate to do so. "Well, I think it's time you got the whole human experience."
"How about we start with…a broken heart."
It was an awful, hollow feeling. It felt as if my heart was in bleeding pieces, having been torn apart. I started to cry again, Annabelle's face in my mind.
"No…no…" I croaked, my head pounding from fever and the stress of my tears and no matter what I did it would not end.
"Or maybe…" That pain stopped. I took deep breaths, trying to get through it. "Getting shot?"
A second later my shoulder erupted in agony. I screamed, coughing and gagging as my throat tore.
"AGH! Oh please, please, NO! NO!" I threw my head back, hissing. It was like it was on fire. I looked sideways, at my shoulder. It was bleeding, a nasty looking hole residing there. But the pain didn't stop. Zachariah did not heal me from this nightmare.
My legs weren't holding me up anymore, I was simply hanging by my wrists, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn't know how to take this, how to handle it. I wasn't like Sam and Dean, I wasn't strong, like them. And I didn't know how to be.
Suddenly the chain gave way and I crumpled to the ground, slamming onto my knees again. Fear overwhelmed me when Zachariah stepped toward me.
I looked up at him, tears on my face, lips shaking. He smiled down at me, chuckling, right before an unbearable force struck my face. His fist.
He backhanded me, slapped me, kicked my ribs. My fevered state only made this so much worse. I didn't know how to be sick, I didn't know how to be tortured. I just didn't know what to do.
When I was coughing, blood in my mouth, bruises on my face and shivering violently he stepped away, taking Sam's phone from his pocket.
"I think it's time we give them a call, don't you?"
"Why?" I croaked. He smiled.
"You're my bargaining chip," he stated. "They say yes, I let you go and promise to never hurt you again. And even if they don't come on those terms, they will come get you."
I shook my head, stomach plummeting. No, no he couldn't do that! He couldn't do that to them! I wasn't that important!
"Nohoh…" I whispered. But there was nothing I could do.
"Hey there, Dean."
Dean practically busted the motel room door down when they got back. All he wanted was reassurance that Castiel was alright.
But instead, his fears of something horrible happening were confirmed.
The bed was empty. Sam's phone was gone.
"CAS?" He bellowed, darting into the bathroom, looking around wildly, Sam doing the same. "SON OF A BITCH!"
"May…maybe he went with Annabelle or something," Sam offered, grasping at straws. Dean shook his head.
"Annabelle wouldn't take him anywhere when he was sick like that," he said, running his hand through his hair.
"Maybe-" Before Sam could make another pointless speculation, Dean's phone rang.
The brothers' eyes lit up and Dean crammed his hand in his pocket, taking out the device as quickly as he could and flipping it open.
"Cas? Cas, where the hell are you-?"
"Hey there, Dean." Hatred found its way to Dean's face faster than Sam could blink. His lip curled into a sneer, cheek twitching in rage.
"Where is he?" He growled.
"Oh, Castiel?" He chortled. "He's right here. He's doing quite well, actually."
"What did you do to him?" He barked.
"Oh, I just gave him a little taste of what humans go through. Ya know, heart break, a gunshot, a good beating…"
"You listen to me right now you junkless piece of shit," he snarled. "You let him go right now or-"
"Or…what? I could kill him in a second, faster than you could decide just what you were going to threaten me with. So I suggest you play nice."
"How do I know he's even alive?" He challenged.
Zachariah glanced down at his shaking brother. "You want proof? Then I'll let you talk to-"
"You think I'm stupid?"
"Very much so."
Dean flexed his jaw. "I'm not gonna fall for that 'I'm an angel and I can change my voice' crap. You're gonna have to do better than that."
"Fine." He grabbed a handful of Castiel's hair, forcing his face up. "You know, this needs something." He shut his eyes for a moment. A dirtied, white rag had tied itself around Castiel's mouth, blood from his lips staining it.
He whimpered a little, tears in his eyes as he looked at Sam's phone curiously, wondering why Zachariah had it pointed at his face.
A few seconds later Dean looked down at the picture of his bruised and bloodied friend with Sam looking over his shoulder.
"Oh my god," Sam breathed, shaking his head, his expression pained. Dean shut his eyes and licked his lips, putting the phone back to his ear.
"What do you want, Zachariah?" He asked darkly.
"What do you think I want?" He chortled. "See, you are stupid. You ask stupid questions."
"I want to talk to him," Dean demanded, ignoring him.
"Fine," he resolved, bending down and yanking the cloth from Castiel's mouth and pressing the phone to his ear.
"Cas?" Dean asked hopefully, all the hate and anger gone from his voice.
"D-Dean?" The frightened man whimpered.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here, buddy," he assured, smiling a little. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips when Castiel stared to cry. "Hey, hey, it's alright. Everything's gonna be okay, Cas, I promise."
"Dean, please," he implored. "D-don't come look f-for me. I b-beg you, please!"
"Cas, you're our friend," Dean said. "We're not just gonna leave you there!"
"Th-they want you to say yes," he choked. "Please, I'm not that important p-please…Please."
"Cas-"
"Please!"
"Cas," Dean sighed, shaking his head and trying to change the subject. "Cas, are they hurting you?"
"Y-yes," he whimpered. "I, I don't f-feel good, Dean. I-it hurts. Everything hurts…" He was sobbing.
"It's gonna be alright, it's okay. I know you're scared, Cas, it's okay."
"Th-they made me t-take my cl-clothes off."
Dean shut his eyes again, his free hand clenching into a fist and shaking.
"I-it's so cold…" He was crying harder. "An', and the chains…"
"You're gonna be alright, Cas, okay? You gotta fight them, alright? Can you do that, bud?" He asked gently.
"I d-don't know h-how," he shuddered. "I'm n-not strong l-like you, Dean. I d-don't know what to do…" Dean chewed his lip, his eyes ever still shut.
"It's okay. Just…just…whenever you feel like giving up, and giving into whatever that asshat wants, you keep going. Just say no one more time, alright?"
"Oh-okay."
"Cas, it'll-"
"No, NO! DEE-HEEAAAN!"
"CAS?"
"The longer you take to get here, the longer I get to make Castiel suffer." Dean held the phone away from his ear, startled by the horrendous scream that emitted from the speaker. Sam's eyes grew.
"Hurry, hurry." Dean could hear the smile in his voice as the line went dead.
"FUCK!" Dean bellowed, throwing the phone across the room and not caring if it broke. He took out the lamp and the card table in his rage before Sam grabbed his shoulders, dodging a punch.
"Dean, Dean! Calm down, we'll find him," he assured, nodding.
"You don't understand, Sammy," Dean said, chest heaving, face red. "Zachariah likes torturing almost as much as Alastair did. He…he won't show Cas any mercy."
"C'mon, Dean, how bad can it get?"
"Being human sucks, Sam. And Zachariah knows it."
Zachariah put the phone back in his pocket and looked down at Castiel, who shot up in another instant, yelping into the gag, standing on his tip toes.
"So, Castiel," he grinned. "How do you like the dark?"