Sadly, I own no one remotely Supernatural related. Oh, well.
Supernatural
His vision was blurry when he woke up again. At first he thought he was in hell again, was almost convinced that he heard screaming from the others "inmates", until reasoning caught up with him and he remembered Cass had pulled him out. His vision cleared to reveal a small, dirty room. He was lying on a cot, his hands and feet no longer chained. Slowly he sat up, but several searing pains made him lie back down.
Lifting only his head, which felt like it was in a vice, he looked at the newly made burn marks all over his body. They were red, puffy, and warm to the touch. Ignoring the pain, not wanting to give the demons the satisfaction of seeing him weak, he sat up again. He swung his legs off the cot, getting unsteadily to his feet.
The room spun for a second then everything went still. Dean looked around for any windows, a door, any way to get out. There was one door, a big metal door that Dean had no chance of breaking through.
"Sucks to be stuck again, doesn't it," a female voice said and he was flung across the room. He landed against the wall, stuck like a smashed fly. He looked over at a female, standing by his cot. He had only ever seen her once before, down in the inferno, but he knew her name like he knew his own.
"Ava," he murmured and she walked toward him. She hadn't had the body she wore when he met her, but whoever she was possessing was very pretty. She had long, curly brown hair that bounced when she moved. Her eyes were gray; they reminded Dean of a storm. In any other situation he would have hit on her, but now wasn't the time.
"Glad to see you remembered, Dean," she said stopping a few inches from him. "Alastair had to go out for a few, but he said I could play with you for a little bit." Dean remembered all right, he remembered how psychotic Ava got when she was torturing someone. She only tortured him once, but it was enough to keep her etched into his mind forever. "You know, Dean, I watched you down in hell. I watched you cut into those people… You did it with such grace. I could tell you enjoyed it." She was mere centimeters from his face, he could smell her scent. He kept concentrating on the sweet smell, not allowing himself to hyperventilate. He didn't want to be taken back there; he didn't want to be forced to remember. He may have opened up to Sam, but he was not about to discuss his stint in Hell with Ava.
"I've always liked you, Dean. You realize we could have been great together, you and me. We could have sliced and diced like a team. I would have been a co-worker that came with fringe benefits." She leaned in, breaking the little space they had, and kissed him softly on the lips. He tried to break away, but was still stuck to the wall by her power.
"Aw, come on Dean," Ava said pulling away. "You aren't making this fun if you don't play along."
"Sorry, your breath just really got to me. It's like sticking my head in a garbage can of shit." He knew he shouldn't have said it, knew he was going to pay, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.
Smirking, the smile practically screaming how much trouble he was in, Ava raised her hand and sent Dean slamming into the cot. He bounced off the mattress, landing on the floor. He tried to get up, but Ava was too fast. She used her boot to turn him over, so he was looking up at her. She placed her foot on his chest, grinding the heel into one of his burn marks.
"Being rude will not be tolerated, Dean," she said and dug deeper. He kept his mouth closed, but he wasn't sure how long he could hold in the scream. Before he could crack, she took her foot off the wound. She walked around his body, stopping and crouching next to his head. "I like you Dean, I really do, but you aren't a fun date." She stood up, looking down at him. "And you got blood on my boot." She wiped the heel on his tee-shirt, taking great care to nick one of his burn marks. He held in a whimper, knowing his bravura would be useless when Ava got done with him.
"Let's make this date more fun," Ava said and Dean was pulled to his feet and thrown into a wall again. He was stuck again, the whole ordeal becoming an annoying array of déjà vu. "Let's see…" Ava reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a knife. Do they all carry frigging knives, Dean couldn't help thinking.
"What should I cut…" she walked toward him, the knife dangling in her hand. She stopped a good half dozen inches from Dean. "I could cut here…" she lifted the knife so it rested directly on his ear. "No, too simple. How's about here…" she stopped at his right cheek, the left one already cut up from Alastair. "No, it'll ruin your handsome face." She let the knife glide down his face and chest, resting it near his groin. "How's about here," she asked smiling at his wide eyed expression.
Before she could do anything a familiar voice said, "Ava, let's not torment the poor boy." Alastair stood in the doorway, arms across his chest, watching them with an almost respectful look in his brown eyes.
"Yes, father," she muttered stepping away from Dean. She stored her knife back in her back pocket, and crossed her arms to match Alastair's.
"Let him go," Alastair demanded quietly, his voice kinder than normal. It made Dean suddenly nervous; Alastair was only kind when he was ready to deliver real pain. Ava pouted slightly, but Dean was able to move on his own. "Now, be a good girl and leave us." Ava nodded, still pouting, and walked out of the room. She gave Dean one more look of longing before she closed the door.
"Takes after her mom," Alastair commented still staring at Dean. Instead of replying Dean just glared at Alastair. "You know some people are actually kind enough to respond when other people talk to them."
"Yeah, well I don't exactly classify you as people. The only thing that could ever possibly classify you as a person is that body you inhabit."
"Oh, Dean, you hurt me deep," Alastair said softly putting his hand to his heart. "Is that anyway to talk to an old friend?"
"Old friend my ass," Dean muttered darkly.
"You were my prized student, Dean. You could have been the next me, could have taken my place when I 'retired.' But you were pulled out of hell. Another couple of years and I could have made you one of us with no problem."
Dean couldn't look at Alastair anymore. It was like looking at a future he could have had, a scary, demented, freakish future. Keeping his eyes locked on the floor, he said, "I am glad the angels pulled me out. They helped me from going blind at seeing your face everyday."
"You sarcasm kills me Dean," Alastair commented as Dean found himself pinned against the wall for the third time, "it honestly does." He walked toward the defenseless hunter, getting in his face. He placed his hand on Dean's face, lifting his head so their eyes met. "I don't like it when my guests are not grateful. Keep up your smart mouthing and I'll cut your tongue out. Try talking without one of those." Alastair pushed Dean's head away and pulled back turning his back to leave the room.
"Dean, one more thing," he said turning back to look at the stunned hunter. He didn't even notice that Alastair had lifted the force that held him to the wall. "If you're ever rude to my daughter again, I'll pull each and everyone of your teeth out." and with those words ringing in the air, Alastair opened the door and walked out of the room.
Shaking uncontrollably, actually wishing he was back at Bobby's with Sam, on the verge of calling Castiel to help him, Dean slid to the floor.
SUPERNATURAL
Sam was not too fond of Joshua for two reasons: one he had no freaking plan other than sit there and wait for his 'superiors' to contact them. Two, well Dean would have wanted to shove his head trough a wall. Dean hated to wait, he was very impatient, and if Sam were caught and he was stuck waiting for Joshua's bosses to make a fucking decisions he would have went crazy.
Instead of pulling a major Dean Winchester and taking his chances with attacking the angel, Sam hid himself in one of Bobby's many rooms, sitting against the wall with a knife. He kept tossing it up in the ceiling, catching it as it fell back down.
"I know you must be frustrated," a familiar voice said from the doorway. Cass was watching him, his hands in his pockets.
"You have no idea," Sam muttered throwing the knife in the ceiling again. It fell back at him; he caught the hilt with a hunter's grace. He didn't even cut his hand, that's how skilled he was. John Winchester was a good teacher.
"Don't I?" Castiel crossed the room, sitting on the bed.
"If you were as frustrated as I am you'd be ready to help me go after Dean. We could make the trip in like ten minutes. You have some freaking teleporting power, right?" Sam threw the knife at the ceiling again. Before he could catch it, Castiel was on his feet the knife in his hand.
"This is a dangerous way to vent your anger," he said calmly, in his emotionless voice, and the knife was gone. "I am not allowed to go after your brother." He sat back on the bed, eyes actually weary. First freaking emotion he's shown all day, Sam thought bitterly.
"Yeah, you've said that already," Sam muttered pulling his knees to his chest.
"I am only following orders," Castiel said sliding off the bed and onto the floor. "If I had a choice I would go after him, too."
"I bet," Sam said skeptically.
"It's hard to pull someone out of hell and not share a bond. Your brother may be a stubborn person, may anger many people (my superiors included), but he does not deserve the fate he's been dealt. Alastair may not kill him today, but soon Dean will end up dead. And, between you and me, I don't think waiting will help us at all. If I wasn't about to get in trouble for doing it or if I knew where he was, I'd transport you and Bobby to Dean. But that is not possible. They are blocking his location from me."
"Why?" Sam asked trying to hold back his anger. He didn't want to piss off the angels by attacking Castiel.
"They believe that I have gotten too close to my charge. That I have an emotional attachment to Dean." Ironic much, Sam thought thinking about how unemotional Castiel was all the time. "They believe I feel responsible for your brother.
"They believe, or you believe?"
"They believe until I say otherwise," Cass muttered and Sam realized the angel attempted sarcasm. It was a joke worthy of his older brother, something along the lines of what Dean would say. His attitude rubs off on everyone, including the angels.
"Look, I've worked with Joshua before. He's someone you can trust. Just hold on a bit longer and then we'll go after Dean." Castiel got to his feet heading toward the door.
"Wait, why is Joshua the one to help? Why not Uriel?"
"Because Joshua knows Alastair a little better than Uriel," Cass muttered his hand on the doorknob.
"What do you…?"
"He's Alastair's son," Cass replied softly and walked out of the room.