Bloodline (Supernatural)

25 - No More Solitary

I don't like to admit it, but, Finn's blood helps.

I guess he was so pleased with the result that the "trial run" was quickly tossed out the window. He'll feed me bits at a time, just enough to get me through the torture sessions. I feel worse coming out because I try to use the extra push and waste it.

Time and time again, I convince Finn to up the amount I intake.

"Never thought you'd see the day, huh?" he teases.

"Shut up," I snarl. It's animalistic, the way I take in his blood. The taste has worn off on me, I've grown used to it.

"Hey, hey, not so greedy, Willa. I can't exist if you drain me dry."

I keep hold of his wrist, and I swear I see him smirk. Once I have enough to make my escape, I'm going cold turkey. I'm not ingesting this ever again.

"You know...it is a bit of a turn-on, watching you like this."

"Dude, I'm sixteen, and you're probably older than dirt. There's nothing here to suggest something's ever gonna happen."

"Not all demons are ancient."

"Then tell me how old you are."

"Never ask a demon his age, Willa." He attempts to tug his wrist away. "I think you've had enough."

"But it helps." I pout. "It does. I feel the changes. You're being...oddly nice to me."

"Well, I can stop this arrangement—"

"No!" I say way too quickly.

Finn smiles. "Come on, killer. We don't want to keep them waiting."

We take the familiar path, with me resisting every step of the way. I should feel numb to this at some point, right? I can't lose focus. If Finn gives me just enough of his blood, if I time it right, I could get out of here. Maybe. There's still a lot of details I need to figure out. They didn't exactly give me a map of Hell upon moving in.

The moans and groans of the damned doesn't bother me as much as it used to. It sounds more like background noise now. I almost break from Finn's grasp as he gets the door open to the room that's been deemed mine. I'm sure I'm not the first person to be given this room, nor will I be the last.

Since I've resisted more, Not-Sam and Not-Dean have assisted Finn in strapping me into the cold contraption like always. Once settled, Finn fades into the background. Lately, the Hell backdrop doesn't melt into the bunker's. It maintains its dreary, dark, damning appearance.

"You know, we can do this all day," says Not-Dean as he circles me. Not-Sam remains stationary for now. "We ain't getting anywhere if you keep coming and going. I think it's time you move in here with us, kiddo."

My heart runs at that scary idea. "How about no?"

Not-Sam chuckles. The darkness in it isn't promising for me. "You really think you've got a choice. That's cute." He frowns. "No more solitary for you, Willa."

"No!" I protest, searching wildly for Finn. "Damn it, Finn, I know you're listening! They can't do this! Don't let them!" As if pleading to a demon will help. If I'm here, they won't let me take the demon blood. I'll never have a chance of getting out of here, let alone stopping these two.

"This is our domain, he just brings you to us when we're ready," says Not-Dean. "He gets no say either."

Fine. I'll stick this out, then. Winchester stubbornness, don't fail me.

As the brothers banter with me, I keep trying to reach Finn. I get no answer, well, not from my blood donor anyhow. After enough attempts, and enough smacks to the face, I stop trying to get an answer.

As promised, I don't get a break. I don't get released from the contraption. My brain hurts from all of my overthinking. My body strains in fruitless attempts to break free. The fatigue sets in, and just when I think I'll get a second of sleep, it's beaten out of me.

They're not messing around, not anymore.

Just let me close my eyes. Let me rest.

I almost get my wish, until my mom's name is brought into the chat.

"Maybe we can bring her in with you, make it a bonding thing," Not-Dean suggests.

I open my eyes wearily. "She's not dead."

"How do you know?" asks Not-Sam. "Last you saw, she was getting the shit beat out of her. She could be here, somewhere."

"She's not. She's done nothing to come here."

This time, Not-Dean laughs. "Just because she hasn't sinned enough doesn't mean we can't bend the rules and pull her down here. There are loopholes."

I shake my head tiredly. "I don't believe you. She's with Sam and Dean...and you two aren't very convincing actors. They're nothing like you."

"Give it time, you'll start to see things differently." Not-Dean cracks his knuckles. "You're handling this better than we should be giving you credit for, Wills. What made you mature so quickly, eh?"

"Your kind ruined my Homecoming dance, and it's spiraled ever since." My body releases a chill. "That kind of trauma matures a girl."

"Oh, hon, I don't think you know the meaning of the word. Allow us to educate you."

**Okay, so I know that last line might imply...It does not involve anything sexual, I promise. That's not how the line is supposed to come across.**