Equals (Crowley Fanfic)

Alone

After what felt like five minutes of rest, a man came in with a tray of food and medical supplies.

"What seems to be the trouble, Ms. Miller?" He said, looking at my facial injuries. "Ah. I bet that wasn't any fun."

"If I knew, I'd tell you just how fun it was." I said.

"He's been tinkering with your mind? Sorry, I'm just an M.D." The man assumed wrong, but it was good to know what powers Crowley had, or at least, what the prisoners think he has.

First, he set my arm into a brace and sling, then he cleaned the blood off of my lip and from the skin around my ear. He used some kind of adhesive to pull the broken skin on my lip together. "There, that shouldn't scar." he smiled and I returned the expression. I heard a flicker and his eyes turned black. Great, a demon. I should have expected that.

"Still racist, are we? I guess your experience with Crowley hasn't left much to be desired." He examined the knife cuts around my ear.

"Will it scar?" I asked.

He took the razor and shaved around the cuts that went from in front of the middle of my ear to a centimeter above the top of my ear.

"Sorry about this, but I can't stitch it if the hair is in the way." he said. So, that was a yes.

I shut my eyes and tried not to grit my teeth or scream as he began stitching. I don't remember if I succeeded or not. Before he left he told me to try to eat something. I decided to be friendly to the people... demons Crowley sent in. I didn't want to be alone in this place.

Crowley came in early the next morning with a mp3 player that had internal speakers blasting 'Uptown Funk'. Something about actually hearing a song that I heard before coming here (my off-key belting not included) made me feel braver and stronger.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" I yelled over the music.

"What?" he shouted back.

"Good Morning!" I shouted, conveniently just after the music switched off.

"Oh, Morning. Are we feeling cooperative today?"

"Only if you'll give me your digits." I pretended to flirt, hoping that he would be at least delayed by the chance to have some good comic-book style banter.

"I don't know about that," he paused, "Something tells me that you'll only send chain messages." He turned my head and looked at my stitches.

"Aw, I suppose you're right, I'd probably text you at 3 a.m. too."

"I don't think I'd mind that... Didn't anyone tell you it's my job to tempt you?" He spoke in a distracted way as if he were paying more attention to my injuries than my words.

"I unsubscribed from the emails years ago." I chuckled.

"Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, why don't you sit down and tell me one of those secrets you're known for being so good at keeping." he said.

"Not today, in this place my secrets are currency. Once I run out I won't be able to get any more. I have to be conservative with my resources, you understand?" I had walked around him while I was speaking. I finished at his side and patted his shoulder with my free arm in mock sympathy. I started to walk away, but he grabbed me by my sling and slammed me against the wall. He pinned me there by leaning one of his shoulders into my collar bone and gripping my injured arm.

"You don't understand, do you? When you don't submit, I will hurt you." He spoke coldly, distantly. As if he were in another place.

"I understand perfectly, I just don't care. Not today. I was weak yesterday and I might be weak tomorrow, but not... not today." I slumped my head onto his shoulder in pain. He backed up and I nearly fell.

"Now, Go sit." He said as calmly as if I were a misbehaving child. I sat in the metal chair I'd been avoiding since I was untied. He pulled my hair back into a low ponytail.

"It's not like having someone who reeks of scotch and sulfur do my hair is unpleasant, but don't you you have something bet-" I stopped talking as he picked up the barber scissors that he had left yesterday. It wasn't that being bald was the worst thing I could imagine, it was the symbolism that bothered me. Shaving a captive's head was one of the quickest ways to dehumanize them. I won't say why.

"Oh, still sure you don't want to give me one of those precious little secrets?"

I swallowed. What he didn't know was, I didn't have any secrets left to share. I might be able to fake a few, but right now I was fresh out of ideas. I didn't say a word as he cut above the hairband. He stood in front of me and fluffed my hair and snipped a few places.

"Now, that's lovely. It will also be easier to shave off. Now," He ran his fingers through my now jaw-legnth hair, "If you cooperate with me tomorrow you get to keep this pretty little haircut. If not, I won't go easy on you anymore."

I looked anywhere but his face. I couldn't handle those human-looking eyes, not when I knew that I wasn't going to see another person for a long time, not when I felt so alone.

He backed away and stood at the door. His entire body tensed with apprehension. I realized that this was probably the most relaxing time he got all day. No wonder he didn't want me to be just another rag doll he beat until it spilled it's guts.

"Think about what I said." I realized that it wasn't mock sincerity in his voice.

That afternoon a woman came to deliver my meal and she left a mirror. It surprised both of us when I thanked her.

I picked it up and looked at my bruised face. It had started to turn gruesome colors, so I chose to look at my hair instead. It wasn't bad and it covered my stitches. I looked at the cut under my stitches and wasn't sure what to think. If that line had been from a pen or a brush on a piece of paper, then I would have called it art, but to see it on my skin... I put the mirror face down in the corner where I had been sitting and listening to the mp3 player that he had left. I hid the scissors under the mirror and looked around the space. I decided to stack the chairs and put them facing the corner furthest from mine. I looked at the straight-razor and wondered if I could somehow hide it. There was nothing in the room to hide anything behind or beneath. I had an idea. I grabbed the scissors and started cutting the cord on the razor, no electricity, no close shave. I didn't cut all the way through so it wouldn't be immediately obvious, but I checked it to make sure it was disabled. I left it neatly by the outlet. I slept until I heard the door open.

a/n: Ooh, so tense! Please remember to vote, comment, and share with your fellow fans! Keep on reading and writing and you can't go wrong.