Bloodline (Supernatural)

22 - A Change in Routine

 Hell must have some magical properties, because based on how little food and water I've gotten, I should be dead by now. My stench alone should kill me, I smell as bad as some of the odors I've picked up since I've been here.

I don't see anything outside of my cell, outside of the area I'm confined to. Demons pass by, selecting some for torture time. Some leave their captivity, some don't. Some we get to hear live. It's enough to make you want to rip your ears off.

Finn continues to be a consistent visitor and pain in my ass. He prattles the same bullet points, so much so that at times I begin to recite them myself. I don't believe them, but the words are said almost every single day that they start to get memorized.

The wound on my hand is infected now. Finn doesn't accept my plea to fix it, to treat it. He's insistent on having me share his views first before he allows anything nice to come my way. Hardball, indeed.

"Hey, Willa, guess what? Your routine is getting shaken up," says Finn in greeting.

I remain on the ground, knees pushed to my chest. It's not the most comfortable position, but none really are in here. I keep still as Finn enters my domain. I don't resist him as he pulls me up by my arm. "W-where am I going?" I ask hoarsely.

"Someplace new, for a little bit. Figured it's time you get a little tour of Hell."

My legs are stiff, and Finn almost has to drag me out of my space. My body feels like it's aged decades. As we pass by cells, I stop abruptly and take a double take. I pull Finn towards one of the cells.

I could've sworn I saw Cas inside. But when the shadows lessen and the face appears, it looks nothing like the angel I'd come to know. My heart breaks a little. While it wouldn't have good news to find Cas here with me, I would've known someone in here. We could've formulated a plan to get out.

"Ah, you're at that phase. I wondered when it would hit," Finn says, gently pulling me forward. "Your mind starts to play tricks on you."

"I'd be better if you gave me food and water. And perhaps a quieter area to sleep." I'm pretty sure I've been functioning on few hours since I've landed here. The others around me don't ever shut up with their nonsense babbling and screaming and crying. I'm one of the quieter ones.

"Yeah, we're not Heaven, Willa. We've got a reputation to uphold."

You're certainly living up to it, dick.

We walk up a winding staircase, to which I trip up a few times. Finn has to keep hold of me so I don't go tumbling back down. The air doesn't feel any less suffocating than my prison. The temperature feels no different.

The doors we pass by look like ones you see in maximum security—slots to shove stuff through. A slot to open to take a peek inside at the prisoner. Muted screams and painful cries come from them as we walk. My stomach knots uneasily.

"This is you."

Without anyone opening it, the door moves inward. Finn pulls me inside.

There is a torture contraption with my name on it, gleaming at me. Shadows move behind it, I can't quite make out who.

"What is this?" I ask. I resist little as Finn guides me to the contraption and straps me in. My body trembles. "H-how long are you gonna leave me in here?"

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. I want to watch the show." He nods past me to the shadows. "Let's show her the cruel truth of the world, boys."

As Finn steps back towards the door, I blink a few times to understand what I'm looking at. No. Not possible. There's no way...They weren't faking it this whole time.

Before me are Sam and Dean Winchester, both sporting black eyes—a trademark demonic trait. Neither bare any weapons, so I'm still very suspicious.

"I-I don't—" I sputter in disbelief.

"Yeah, we figured you'd say something like that," says Dean. It sounds like Dean, but it can't be. He's got a rough voice to be sure, but something seems off about it. His eyes revert back to green. "You see, Wills, the truth is always hard to swallow."

"You're not...demons. I can't..." My brain begins to throb.

"No, no, we're not demons," Not Sam admits. "We're just not who we made you think we were."

As I look around, Hell has melted away. This place looks scarily like the bunker. Finn seems to have vanished as well. I screw my eyes shut. This isn't real. It's not real. Finn is doing this to break me. I know Sam and Dean Winchester. They wouldn't do this to me.

"Hey, open your eyes."

They're forced open with strong fingers. Each Winchester has taken one eye to pry open. I thrash my head around to break their grip. I do, but I overdo it and smack my face against the cold contraption.

"We're gonna help you understand just what world you really live in, Willa," says Not-Sam quietly. "A world where everything you think you know is wrong. Where people you think you trust have much different agendas."

"Knock it off, Finn!" I shout, looking wildly for the demon. "This won't work on me! I know them, they're not going to hurt me."

"Who're you shouting at?" asks Not-Dean. He looks around. "It's just us here, Wills."

"Stop it! Stop acting like you know me, you stupid black-eyed monster!"

"Oooh, what a childish comeback. I didn't realize we were in kindergarten. Then again, you haven't graduated high school yet, so there's a lot of immaturity in you still. How about we get that out?"

Panicked, I begin to struggle, though my effort looks weak. They can't do this. It's a trick of the mind. Demons are doing this, not the Winchesters. They're not..."You plan to talk me to death? Finn's been taking shots like that since I got here."

"Oh, no, we're going to...Ah, hell, let's stop talking about it and starting doing it."

"Guys, guys, please," I plea, trying to rise as much as I can. The contraption offers no give. I shake my head. "Damn it, I'm talking to you like you're them. You're not." The magic hums low in my veins. "You're not them. They would never—" I scream as pain shoots through my body, though I see no weapon deal the damage.

"Ah-ah, we can't let you having your outbursts now, can we?" asks Not-Sam. "You've got the tiniest bit of power in you. Do you really think we want you to use it? Do you know what power can do to people? Do you realize how much power that is for a sixteen-year-old girl?"

"Stop it!" The bunker lights flicker.

"Oooh, look at that, a cute parlor trick!" exclaims Not-Dean. "Oh, sweetheart, we're gonna make sure you think twice before ever using a drop of what you've been given."

**Fact: once I knew Willa was going to have a Hell tour, this was one of the many scenes I wrote in advance. When I wrote this, this story was a skeleton with some meat on its bones.**