Captured

Erela woke up with her hands tied. Her head was throbbing. Her arms were wrapped around a rough, round pole of some sort. She didn't dare open her eyes yet because she was afraid of what she might see. The last thing she could remember was standing on that cliff with Cas. She tasted blood in her mouth and spat. Cas. Where was Cas? She opened her eyes and realized that she couldn't really see anything. The small space that she was in was gray and dimly lit by some candles.

"Cas! Cas? Castiel?" Erela called hoarsely.

"Erela? Is that you?" Cas replied. He sounded like he was off to her right. His back might have been facing her because he couldn't see her either.

"Yeah, it's me. Where are we?"

"I don't know."

"Cas, I'm scared," Erela admitted.

"You should be," a familiar voice said.

"Sam?" Erela and Cas asked at the same time. Sam stepped out of the shadows and walked up to Erela. Something was very wrong about him.

"You're not Sam," she growled. "This is all wrong." She extended her wings and wrapped them around herself as some sort of protection from the evil thing that was walking towards her. Although they were invisible to the thing standing in front if her, it made her feel a bit safer. Not-Sam crouched down and cupped her face in his hands. Erela wouldn't meet his eyes. "Get away from me," she hissed.

"No," not-Sam replied, kissing her roughly, almost painfully. Erela didn't kiss back and not-Sam slapped her across the face so hard that she tasted blood in her mouth again. She spat it right in his face and he grabbed her by the throat. She kicked at him, choking. Her wings flailed, but he couldn't see them or feel them.

"Now now, Sammy. We can't kill her yet," Erela heard a voice say as her vision started to get black around the edges. It sounded like Dean. "We still have things to learn from her. From both of them."

"Something is very wrong here." Cas said as not-Sam let go of Erela's neck. She wheezed and coughed as not-Sam laughed.

The torture started not long after that. Not-Sam only ever tortured Erela and not-Dean only ever tortured Cas because they knew it would bother them the most. They would cut their captives with various knives and burn them with red hot pokers until they passed out, either from pain or blood loss. Castiel and Erela learned quickly that they shouldn't heal themselves because the faster they healed, the sooner more pain would come. They also learned not to show their captors their wings because they would cut those too and rip out feathers.

Erela was awakened from passing out by the sound of Cas screaming. As she came to her senses, she smelled burning flesh. She whipped her head around and tried to scoot around the pole to see what was going on. As she turned around, the rough pole ripped against her skin, but she could see what was going on. The second she realized what was happening to Cas, Erela wished that she hadn't been so curious. Not-Dean was slowly dripping burning holy oil onto Cas. It seared where it touched him and the angel cried out in pain, swearing in Enochian. The smell of burning flesh caused Erela to retch and she turned her head to vomit. When she turned back, not-Sam was crouched down next to her.

"What do you want from us?" she asked, her voice gravelly.

"We want information. About the seals," he replied, lightly tracing a knife over the contours of her neck.

"What? What trials?" Erela cringed when Cas cried out again. "I don't know anything about any trials."

"I don't believe you," not-Sam growled, slicing the knife into the skin where Erela's neck met her shoulder. She flinched away from the pain and hissed through her teeth as she felt the blood begin to trickle down her collarbone and catch on her shirt.

"Your friend over there isn't being too helpful, girlie. He's passed out," not-Dean said, walking over from Cas' side of the room, still holding the bottle of holy oil and a lighter. "Now I don't quite know what you are, but you're not an angel. Not completely. But you're not a Nephilim either. And you have wings." Not-Dean plucked a few feathers from Erela's invisible wings, as if he could see them. She cringed every time he pulled out a feather.

Castiel awoke from a pain-induced blackout, and heard Erela screaming and crying and swearing louder than ever before. Cas heard a sawing sound and felt his stomach drop. He felt Erela's grace slowly leaking from her body and into the small room. The sawing noise stopped after a while and then resumed again. Erela's cries were much more muffled now. Cas assumed that something had been stuffed into her mouth to stifle her cries. The sawing stopped again, after how long, Castiel did not know. Not-Sam pulled the gag out of Erela's mouth and let her whimper, laying there in the middle of the floor. He gathered up his supplies and the things he took from her and left her there, crying and shaking.

"Cas," Erela said after what seemed like an eternity. He could tell from her voice that she was still crying.

"Yes?" he said gently.

"Cas, they... He... He cut off my wings." Erela started crying even harder. Her spine hurt where not-Sam had been kneeling on it and the stumps of her wings felt like they were on fire. She felt the blood soaking the back of her shirt and felt her grace leaking out of her, but Erela couldn't care less.

Cas couldn't respond. He couldn't form a coherent thought. He felt like he was going to vomit. He vaguely heard Erela say something about wrapping her wings around her and sleep and manifesting, but he was too engrossed in his own thoughts. How could they do that to her? She was practically human. He vowed not to let not-Dean see his wings again. He was pretty sure he would be able to grow them back, but he wasn't so sure about Erela.

"If your blood is flowing out of you as fast as your grace, you're going to need help staying alive," Cas said. Erela just groaned. Even if she could have moved, she didn't want to. She just wanted to give up, but Cas wouldn't let her. He tried to use his grace to push some of Erela's grace back into her to heal her, but to no avail. She felt him trying and pushed back with the little energy she had left.

"Just let me die, Cas. I don't care anymore. I'd rather die than be here," Erela replied weakly. "Everything hurts. Everything hurts so much. I just don't want to be in pain anymore."

"Shh. Shhh. I know. But it'll be okay. Our Sam and Dean will come rescue us. Just you wait," Castiel promised.

"Look at you, always the optimist," not-Dean taunted. "Even when your friend is lying there, helpless and dying." He walked over to Erela and kicked her in the stomach. She merely grunted to appease him. It was nothing compared to the pain of having her wings sawed off.

"What do you want from us?" Castiel demanded.

"Toys," not-Dean replied, walking back over to Cas. "Playthings." Cas saw a knife glint in the man's hand. Not-Dean stood over the angel and looked longingly at the knife. He then crouched down, and pulled the knife through the flesh on the angel's stomach. Castiel flinched and looked down. The wound was pretty deep and bleeding rather profusely. Not-Dean continued cutting away at Cas. Suddenly, not-Dean grabbed at Cas' invisible wings that were tucked behind his back. Not-Dean grabbed a handful of feathers and skin and yanked, causing Castiel to scream. Erela flinched weakly at the sound. Cas' screams were half in his real voice and they hurt the human ear. Not-Dean flinched away from the noise and then ran upstairs.