The Lost Memories (a Destiel Fanfic)

Chapter 9 - Castiel

"Where did you send it?!" Crowley yells into my ear as I feel another sharp pain dig into my arm.

"Bite me." I reply, turning my eyes up to his in a stone cold glare. He digs the angel blade into my leg and I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my teeth to keep myself from screaming.

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Castiel. Where is my book?"

"I'm never going to tell you and what good am I to you dead?"

"Oh you're worth absolutely nothing to me dead but I can still inflict the pain while you're alive." He says dragging the knife down my arm. I shut my eyes and for a split second I can't feel the burning of the cuts. "Now, maybe before you say another idiotic comeback, I suggest you tell me where the book is." I keep my mouth shut and he simply stabs my arm with the blade. Suddenly, the door creaks open and a male's head sticks out.

"Sir, you are needed in one of the torture chambers. There's been an change." The demon says. Crowley takes the blade out of my arm.

"Can't you see I'm busy with my own problem?" Crowley counters but, cautiously, the demon replies.

"But, this captive is ready to confess. Usually you're the one that does the final step."

"He's ready to confess huh? I'll be there in a moment." The demon nods his head and shuts the door behind him.

"Well, looks like someone's caved. Unlike you, but I can tell you're close to it." Crowley says stepping away from me but then quickly turns. "Oh, I almost forgot something." He says and walks back to me and sticks the blade into my leg and I scream out, feeling the white pain spread up my thigh and to my knee. He walks away and leaves the room, closing the heavy iron door by snapping his fingers. I glance around the room trying to take in my surroundings. I see my trench coat on an old table nearby. I notice that beneath me is a medium sized rug with loose strands coming out the sides. The pattern on the rug reminds me of the one in Bobby's living room and my thoughts drift to Dean. I imagine him sitting at the desk, drinking one of his favorite beers. I remember his green eyes and the way his laugh sounds, even when it's quiet. Then I remember his face when I was about to give Crowley the book. He looked so scared and worried about me that I actually felt guilty. Then, the smoke came and I couldn't see him anymore. I love you so much. I try to say to him in my head. A part of me is wishing he could hear me.

"Ready for some more?" Crowley says from behind me, he must have appeared a few seconds ago. I keep my head down and just keep telling myself to stay strong. "Straight to business I see. Well then, let's get started once again." He says pulling the dagger out of my leg, only to inflict worse pain upon me.

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I wake up, slowly remembering where I am. I must have passed out at some point in the torture. I scan the room once again and notice that the rug has some sort of enochian symbol sewn into it. I look more carefully and I recognize the way the lines bend and twist to make an angels trap. If I am going to get out of here, I'd have to find a way to get rid of that symbol. Perhaps pulling the thread out of the rug where the symbol starts might get me out of here. Although, that would be near impossible since my arms and legs are tied down. Crowley walks through the doorway and I notice that there's a loose bolt that is nearly coming out.

"Oh good, you're awake. You passed out over an hour ago and I couldn't really get anything from you if you're unconscious." He says flipping the angel blade in his hand. "So have you decided to confess?" He asks and I keep my eyes on his, trying to maintain my dignity. "Oh common Cas, you know what will happen if you don't."

"I'm aware of what will happen and it's something I'm willing to do." I reply giving him a cold stare.

"Well then, why don't you sit tight while I go clean myself up from the last session I had and I'll be right with you. Deal?"

"Of course. I'll be here." I say and he leaves, shutting the door behind him. I turn my head to the floor and sigh. Dean where are you? I pray to him. In this moment of pain, I find it quite humorous that an angel is praying to a human instead of the other way around. I'm only willing to admit to myself that he's the only one keeping me going.

Minutes go by and Crowley finally returns to the chamber with a tray full of tools.

"Now where were we?" He says picking up a small knife from the tray.