Chapter 21

Dean was pushed through two metal doors leading away from the arena and into the hallway of the mill. The muzzle clung tightly to his skin and his eyes were wide, still filled with fear. His hand got free once from the mill worker's grasp and he dug at the muzzle, trying to the infernal contraption from his face. Luckily the mill owner's hadn't tightened it to its maximum capacity, but Dean still felt ghost pain from the past and struggled to free himself. The mill worker on Dean's right slapped his hand away from his mouth and tightened his grip on Dean's wrist. The two workers trudged through the hallway, totally immune to the cries of pathetic Omegas and Alphas in pain from previous fights, and they stormed through an old wooden door and into the office of the man behind it all.

Behind his desk, Crowley stood. He looked at the various photos on the wall. They were all of him standing next to Alphas. Each of the Alphas' hands was locked with Crowley's and up in the air in triumph. They were all of the same physique and all housed that stone cold and determined look in their eyes. Dean recognized a few faces, Michael and Gadreel stuck out the most.

"I choose my Alphas wisely and they are all Gods among angels," Crowley motioned for the workers to leave and they did, shutting the door behind them, but not before restraining Dean from behind with handcuffs. Dean growled and glared at them as they left. "Because Gods don't bleed."

Dean stared at Crowley for a moment, deciding whether or not to even dignify his statement with an answer. Crowley lifted one eyebrow and stomped over to Dean, yanking the muzzle off of his face. Dean cried out and then glared up at the man, growling softly. He knew he shouldn't push his luck, but damn did he want to snap off a few of Crowley's fingers right now.

"When you killed that Alpha," Crowley took a sip of his drink. Rum and coke. Dean could smell it from where he was on his knees on the floor of Crowley's office. The workers had thrown him down. "This lovely little shiver ran up my spine. I felt your rage and your power Dean."

"Surprised you care to know my name?" Dean spoke up, it was now or never.

"I know potential when I see it," Crowley turned back towards Dean and smirked at him. "And you Dean, you have great potential."

"Yeah," Dean scoffed. "If yah like serial killing, which quite frankly I don't."

"That's not what you advertised out there." Crowley stated.

"I was drugged." Dean argued.

"So were the others," Crowley walked closer again. "And yet you didn't see them reaching for that blade so soon. It showed that you were willing to play dirty and I love playing dirty."

"I feel dirty," Dean's eyes narrowed. "Just breathing the same air as you…"

Crowley suddenly glared and grabbed Dean by his collar. The part where his name was written was splattered in Alpha blood and the back of it was digging into his spine as Crowley pulled. Crowley held Dean close to his face so that they were inches from one another and Dean could smell the alcohol coming off of Crowley's breath in waves. It was almost overwhelming and Dean would've gladly voluntarily passed out.

"You listen to me Dean," Crowley's voice got dead serious and lowered to a low raspy whisper. "When you came here you were nothing, but street trash. Benny found you scrounging for food and for life, or so he says. So I don't know who you think you are trying to bloody boss me around, but it surely won't work."

"Don't call me Shirley." Dean joked and smirked and with that Crowley lost it, he threw Dean up against the wall so hard that the Alpha almost blacked out from the blow to his head. Dean let out a whimper, but met Crowley's hard stare.

"You're gonna be a tough one to control," Crowley said. "But I've had worse. You're shaping up to be a great fighter. The fight you won tonight definitely earned you a place on the score, but you're number twenty. If you want to stay alive you're going to have to step up your game. Who knows maybe one day you'll make it up there to number one? Maybe you'll breed some great fighters as well? Maybe, just maybe, you'll be remembered for centuries Dean?"

Dean blearily looked up at Crowley and sighed. There wasn't much else he could do. His entire body felt as though it was still on fire. The feverish need to fight still burned through him a little. The drugs hadn't worn off yet and if it hadn't been for the brute force of Crowley and Dean's collision with the wall he'd be on his feet and tearing Crowley limb from limb.

"Just think about it," Crowley said, whistling and his workers returned into the office. "Surely you don't want to die do you?"

"I said," Dean wheezed out, his head still hurt. The workers dragged him to his feet and held him upright. "Dun' call me Shirley…"

The workers dragged Dean out the office and the last thing he saw was Crowley's smirking face. The door closed behind them and Dean was practically dragged down the hall to the Alpha cages. He was thrown inside of his cage and immediately he smelled the scent of many Alphas past. The burning smell of urine and hormones filled his nose and he gagged. The drugs had intensified everything and Dean felt sick. His stomach churned and flipped every time he breathed in and the drugs burned red hot in his bloodstream. Dean crawled over to the corner of the cage, looking back once to see the mill workers leaving. Dean whimpered and held his stomach, God it hurt so badly. The drugs were still coursing through him even though the fight had been an hour ago. Dean's mouth filled with saliva and he lay down on his side. He curled up a little, hoping to alleviate a bit of the discomfort. It didn't work. He tasted metallic saliva and he knew he was done for. Dean shot up and threw up the contents of his stomach. The acid burned coming up his throat and he felt the drugs exiting his system faster than he'd anticipated. His head spun as he continued to vomit until nothing was left, but bile. His eyes were filled with tears and his back hurt from not only the drugs and the toss into the wall, but from heaving nonstop for twenty minutes. He stared forward, the entire cage spinning around him. He could've sworn he saw another figure in it with him. His eyelids were heavy and his throat was raw.

"Mama…" he called out helplessly, not realizing he wasn't a fledgling anymore. He'd called out to her his entire life until she'd died that one night Bobby had found him and Sam alone and freezing in the alleyway. Well Dean was alone and freezing now, where was his hero this time?

Dean whined when the imaginary figure disappeared and he fell down in a heap in the corner of his cage, away from the puke. Dean shivered; the sweat pouring out of his body was making everything ten times colder. His entire body ached and he felt completely helpless. Dean cursed inwardly; he couldn't show this kind of weakness. Never again and not in here. So though he shook from chill and yet inside he was burning up, he curled up in a small ball and wrapped his wings around himself, before closing his eyes.

"Idiot." Michael said

"Poor Rookie," Anorath commented. "He's going to get himself killed…"

Gadreel said nothing; he simply stared over into Dean's cage and watched him. Dean could feel the eyes boring into the back of his skull, but even though he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and die. He couldn't show Gadreel he was weak. So Dean kept his whimpers to a minimum that night.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Dean is what?!" Jo exclaimed.

"He fought another angel tonight," Bobby exclaimed. "Damn idjit almost got himself killed until the end."

"You mean he won?" Ellen asked.

"Stabbed the other angel square in the chest," Bobby sighed. "He bled out in Dean's grip. The mill workers took Dean into the back and that was the end of the fight."

Castiel swallowed hard to rid himself of the dangerously large lump that had formed in his throat. This wasn't Dean, at least not the Dean he knew. The Dean he knew didn't kill, he was peaceful and loving. Castiel briefly remembered their last courting date and how Dean and he had lain out under the stars and Dean had held him in the gentlest way and nuzzled his neck. This Dean seemed more into snapping necks than being affectionate with them. Castiel let out a small whimper.

"Look he was drugged," Jody explained. "It's how the fights work. They drug each angel to shoot them full of Alpha hormones. Think heats on maximum overdrive. Dean wasn't himself down there. We can't base this whole thing on him turning into a supposed psycho killer angel."

That gave Castiel a sense of relief.

"Still," Ellen replied. "We need to get him out of there as soon as possible. Who knows what sort of junk Crowley is pumping into that boy's head much less his body. We need to rescue Dean before he's not Dean anymore."

The lump was back and Castiel swallowed hard again.

"I may have found us another link into taking down this guy," Ellen smirked, feeling proud of herself. "This kid named Ron was at the fight. His father is the legendary Charon of the Fathers of The Dark. Get this, ol Ronnie boy doesn't want to be in the family business. He thinks angel fighting is bogus and a waste of time. Maybe, just maybe, he can help us?"

"It's worth a shot," Sam said, appearing from the back room of the pet shop, a glass of water in his hand. "Anyone on the inside is worth holding onto. Especially if they don't agree with what daddy dearest is pitching at them."

"I'll have to find some way to talk to him again," Ellen replied. "Fathers of The Dark can be awfully hard to locate when there's nothing going down in the angel world, but I'll find a way and anything I can't do, Ash can."

"Did somebody say my name?" a sleepy voice piped up from the corner of the room and all heads turned towards a middle aged man with a mullet sleeping on a fold out table. Once no one acknowledged him, Ash laid his head back down and closed his eyes again.

"Is he really?" Sam asked confused as to why anyone could be comfortable on a thing like that.

"Yeah," Jo sighed, looking over at him and crossing her arms. "It's his thing. He claims it helps him think better."

"Well I'll be damned," Sam muttered. "Alrighty then."

"I'll try and get in contact with the station tonight, if not tonight than tomorrow," Jody said. "Hopefully I can leave an anonymous tip about tonight's fight. They usually won't investigate until enough people leave tips, but if a cop does they'll take notice."

"Good," Ellen replied. "We'll keep an eye on the cameras here and update you. Go home you two, get some sleep. We'll handle things here."

Jody nodded and headed for the door, eager to get out of her undercover clothes and into pajamas. Bobby hesitated a moment, staring at Castiel who looked at the screens. One of the cameras was pointed directly at Dean's cage. The Alpha was painfully asleep, but Castiel had seen the whole ordeal beforehand. Bobby walked over to the Omega angel and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Castiel, startled, turned to face him.

"I know it's hard," Bobby explained. "But trust me, we'll bring him home. We'll bring your mate home."

"He's," Castiel licked his lips. "He's not my mate yet…"

"Well," Bobby said. "Then we'll make sure he has that golden opportunity and that you do too."

Castiel smiled slightly and Bobby pulled him in for a hug. Castiel blinked away tears as the older man pulled away and started for the door. Castiel wiped his eyes and looked back over at the screens. At Dean's sleeping face. Bobby was right. They were going to get Dean back.

One way or another.

Reviews are appreciated!

So will Crowley force Dean into a life of killing?

Or will Castiel and the others save him?

More to come soon!