I'm just going to post all the chapters that were originally in "Wings and Things" and then continue from there.
One Wing in the Fire (2)
It took longer than anticipated to peel Castiel off the rack. The meat hooks were carefully removed from his wings, the belts with the iron nails were delicately tugged from his skin, and the heavy cuffs that had bound him were gently pulled back. Even freed from the anti-angel sigils, Castiel was too weak to try and lash out as couple a of nameless demons hauled him out of Alastor's lair and dragged him towards what looked like a carriage. It was black and decorated in silver and red and was drawn by four massive black dogs made of smoke and charcoal. Hell hounds.
Then the carriage door was opened and Amon was hauling him into it, wrapping a blanket around the angel's naked form, fingers brushing the damaged wings. Castiel cringed away from him and it was only then, as the carriage set off, that he saw the other demon sitting across from them.
He was taller even than Amon with ghostly pale skin and dark violet rings around his completely black eyes. The lower half of his face was covered by a leather and brass gasmask sort of contraption, the straps vanishing in the curls of his short, dark brown hair. Three bronze horns curled from his head, two to either side of his forehead and one larger in the middle. His hands were folded in his lap, black claws tapping lightly against the metal rings on the backs of his fingerless gloves. He wore only a dark jacket opened at the waist, held closed by a single bronze button, a pair of loose fitting pants with the ends tucked into heavy boots, and a cloak that looked more like a pair of folded wings, the fingers a dark violet, the "membranes" a pale, sickly imitation of the royal color.
"What've you got there, Amon?" The new demon's voice was clear, even through the mask, and had an almost childish, inquisitive quality about it, ringing like shattering glass.
"An angel." Amon said eagerly, rubbing his hands together. Sparks leapt from his palms and Castiel flinched.
"Not for your harem…" The other demon said in an exasperated tone.
"No!" Amon sounded offended, "Hells Bells, Astaroth, get your head out of your ass. He was with Alastor and I was just looking and I had a really good idea."
"Really?" Astaroth sounded skeptical, his thin eyebrows rising. Castiel was honest to God ready to scream with the fearful wariness building up inside him. Not only was he now the prisoner of Amon but now he was also at the whims of Astaroth, the Demon Lord of Fear and Chaos. This did not bode well.
"I was thinking we could try an experiment." Amon was sounding far too eager, "Okay, so, human souls in Hell eventually become demons, right?" He didn't wait for an answer, just plowed right on, "So I was wondering…we should see if an angel would become a demon too."
Castiel didn't need to see Astaroth's face to know the Demon Lord was smiling, the way his dark eyes crinkled up at the edges said enough, "Well, well, that does sound like fun." He turned those pitch black eyes on Castiel and the angel flinched, "Alastor's kind of ruined him though, hasn't he. The guy might book it the second he gets the chance." Astaroth leaned forward, stretching out a hand, and Castiel pressed himself against the soft seat of the carriage, trying to stay out of the demon's reach.
But it was to no avail. Astaroth clamped his hand loosely around the angel's neck. There was a hot sensation, a glow of violet-blue light, and then Astaroth sat back, looking satisfied with himself. Amon leaned forward to peer at Castiel and the angel couldn't help his curiosity. He raised a trembling hand and felt around his neck. His fingertips brushed leather and cold metal and he realized he was wearing collar. He belonged solely to these Demon Lords now. There would be no escaping.
His hand fell with a whimper and he closed his eyes. He had already given up hope that his siblings would save him and now he let go any hope of ever getting out of Hell at all. Beside him, Amon let out a snort.
"So, angel, I can't just keep calling you angel. What's your name?"
Blue eyes snapped open and turned to look in wonder at the Demon Lord. Alastor had never asked, he had never cared. The angel swallowed, opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally managed to push out,
"Castiel."
His voice was ruined. What once had been a harmonious melody of silver bells and raindrops on the roof and a singing choir was now a rough tear in his throat. He would never sing with the Host again, his voice was a rasp of pain, a guttural, demonic sound that shamed him and made him want to hide.
"Castiel." Amon repeated, trying the name out. A forked slid out from between his sharp teeth as he rolled the "L" off of it, "Caaaasssssstieeeeellll. Cas. All right, Cas."
Cas.
They were even taking his name away from him.
Castiel was honestly surprised to learn that Amon and Astaroth shared a castle and that they had combined their regions of Hell into one region. It was against their nature for demons to team up, to be partners or even allies. The only reason one demon would work with another would be because there was something beneficial in doing so. The Demon Lord Asmodeus, Lord of Ambition, Greed and Desire, was notorious for this. He even went as far as to pull humans into his scams with a whole other persona; Crowley, King of the Crossroads. He had been hunted for a long time but no one had ever found him.
The surprise must have shown on his face because Astaroth let out a low, throaty chuckle as he stepped out of the carriage and into the courtyard, "You're probably wondering why Asmodeus and Alastor let us get away with this, huh?"
Castiel nodded mutely, looking up at the foreboding structure of stone and metal twisting above them.
"It's because we didn't want to have anything to do with their stupid pissing match against Heaven." Amon threw in, leaping out of the carriage and spinning his scepter in his fingers, "If they wanna pick a fight with you winged dicks, let 'em. I'm more interested in having fun."
"What Amon means," Astaroth said with a smirk in his voice, "Is that in exchange for leaving us out of the war, Asmodeus and Alastor allowed us to combine our regions and share a fortress."
"Why?" The word tumbled from his lips and Castiel didn't understand it. Why did he care?
Amon blinked his impossibly green eyes at the captive angel, "Because we're brothers. What, you thought only you feathered folk could have siblings? Ha!" The Demon Lord let out a harsh laugh, waving some demon servants over to take care of the carriage and the hounds, "Typical…"
Castiel felt a million questions boiling up inside him at this revelation but he stubbornly pushed them down. Astaroth pressed a hand against his back and the angel jerked away, staring at him wildly. Astaroth simply nodded forward and when Castiel looked around, he saw Amon waiting impatiently by a large stone door, tapping a booted foot against the cobblestone with a scowl on his belt-crossed features.
"It would be best not to keep the King of Wrath waiting." Astaroth murmured with a humorous undertone and Castiel scurried as best he could on injured legs towards the other Demon Lord.
Through the stone doors, into a large entrance hall lit with warm electric lights and carpeted in deep crimson, silver, and gold. Up the main flight of stairs, through twisting halls lined in weapons or shelves of books, always with a warmth permeating the place, like a warm fire comforting every nook and cranny. They finally stopped on what Castiel counted as the fifth floor and looked to contain the Demon Lords' chambers. The hall was brightly lit, there were several statues of both Amon and Astaroth doing various things (clutching humans souls, looking studiously upon a scroll, slaying some monstrous beast), and only a couple of doors.
"This is my room." Amon declared, thrusting a hand against a wooden door inlaid with gold designs, "And that," He pointed across and a little down the hall, "Is Astaroth's. That door," He pointed to a heavy looking marble one at the far end of the hall, "Is my harem. Don't go in there."
Castiel wondered what the point of this was.
Amon looked up and down the hall and let out a snort, "And this," He clapped his hands together, fire sparking between his fingers, and pressed them against the wall next to his door, "Is your room." The rock wall beneath his hands warped, caved, and finally formed a second wooden door, inlaid with simply silver swirls that formed a delicate pair of wings. Amon turned and grinned at Castiel as though he was proud of himself, "There you go, Cas, a room to yourself."
Castiel did not move, keeping the blanket drawn tight around him, despite the pain it was bringing by crushing into his broken wings.
"Ground rules, before anything else." Astaroth said smoothly and Castiel glanced up to find the Demon Lord's black eyes on him again, "You can wander anywhere in the castle unless we say otherwise; the collar will stop you from stepping outside these walls and prevent you from entering anywhere we don't want you." Castiel nodded slowly to show he understood. Astaroth continued, "You will spend time with both myself and Amon, whenever we see fit, otherwise you are free to do as you please. You can't harm anyone here, that's one of the big ones; just don't hurt anyone."
Castiel's brow furrowed but he nodded. Demons—and the Demon Lords of Wrath and Chaos for that matter—not wanting to see people hurt was a strange concept. He would try to figure out their trickery later.
"You will eat our food," Astaroth said seriously, "You will wear our clothes, you will obey our laws and customs." His voice softened and those black eyes looked a tad less scary, "If you need anything from us, just ask. We'll do what we can to get it for you."
"Healer." Castiel's treacherous mouth said in a weak rasp. Then, as if realizing how weak he really was, his legs gave out from underneath him. He tensed, prepared for the hard impact of the floor, but it never came.
Steely arms coiled around him, hefting him up, and he raised his head weakly to see Astaroth standing over him. The demon looked back impassively and Castiel briefly wondered if he had imagined the softness in the demon's gaze.
"Hey!" Amon was shouting, his thunderous voice ringing down the stairs as he leaned over the banister, "Someone get a medic up here! There's an angel that needs his wings patched!"
If there was anything else, Castiel didn't catch it. For the first time since he had been dragged into Hell, he felt his mind slip away into blessed unconsciousness.