Broken, a Destiel Story

Part 8

Castiel felt ice cold water splash onto his face and it jerked him awake. His eyes slowly opened, and just barely. They were swollen and sore. He took in his surroundings. He saw a blurry figure standing in front of him. His head was throbbing and he couldn't move. He could feel that his wrists were in chains, suspended above him. He felt wet and sticky, and unusually cold. And he smelled blood. He looked down as far as his neck would allow and saw the blood dripping down his bare chest. "What . . . what's going on?" he mumbled, his whole body starting to ache more, now that he was conscious. His lips were bruised and bleeding, and it hurt to talk. He was fairly certain his jaw was broken. "What am I doing here?"

"You're here," a voice said, "because we need to talk." The man stepped closer and Castiel was surprised when he recognized him. And it wasn't a man at all. It was an angel. And not just one angel. Five of them, standing in front of him, swords drawn.

"Uriah?" Castiel said, confused. He could taste the blood in his mouth. "I . . . I don't understand."

"Well, that's the problem, Castiel," Uriah said, stepping a little closer and touching the point of his blade to Castiel's chest. "You just don't understand. And we've been trying to make you understand. But it's just not working." He dug his blade a little deeper into Castiel's skin, enough to make Castiel scream and draw blood.

"Uriah, please," Cas pleaded. "Whatever you think I've done, I haven't. You have the wrong angel."

"So, you're not the one who's in love with a human?" Uriah said.

Castiel's heart stopped. "I don't know what do you mean," he lied.

"I mean, we know about your feelings for the hunter, Castiel," Uriah said, gritting his teeth. "And we've had you here for a while now, trying to . . . persuade you, in every way we can think of, to end it. Now, you keep passing out on us, because of the pain, and we keep waking you back up, and starting all over again." He made a cut along Castiel's abdomen as he spoke and Cas screamed again.

"There's nothing to end," Castiel said, gritting his teeth. "We're just friends. He doesn't . . . he doesn't even know."

"Listen, Castiel, this is what's going to happen. You are going to end your, quote, friendship, with Dean Winchester, or we are going to end it for you."

"No," Cas pleaded, his head was starting to throb more and his arms were aching. "Why are you doing this?"

"He's a human, Castiel!" Uriah screamed in his face. "You're an angel! He is a bug, a termite. Mortal, emotional, weak. Everything we are not! He is nowhere near good enough for you! Can't you see that?! We're doing this for your own good!"

"You're wrong," Cas said weekly, looking down. But then he lifted his face again as he spoke, this time with all of the strength and defiance he could muster. "He is far too good for me," he growled, his face inches from Uriah's.

Uriah's fist came in contact with his face and he felt blood spilling out of his nose and mouth.

"Fine, Castiel, we tried it the easy way. Now it's time for the hard way." Uriah began to chant something in Enochian and Cas would have looked at him in shock if he'd had the strength. But the pain he started to feel in his back was so intense he couldn't stop screaming, and he knew what the spell was doing. It was exposing his wings. He could feel the bends of his wings tearing through the flesh on his back , could feel the skin ripping apart and blood pooling down. Each movement, each release of a feather, causing him excruciating pain, until they were fully exposed, spread out, spanning the room, but hidden in the darkness. He had never felt such intense pain in all his life. Had he been able to he would have collapsed to the ground. And he knew, unfortunately that it was only going to get worse.

Dean, he pleaded in his head. Sam, help me.

**********

Cas screamed as he felt a bone in the bend of his left wing snap, causing sharp, burning pain to radiate through his wing and down his spine. They had been burning, and shredding, and breaking his wings for what seemed like hours now, and he was in tears. "Please," he cried. "Please, stop."

"End your friendship with Dean Winchester," Uriah repeated.

"No," Cas replied, knowing it would cost him. And he felt the same radiating pain as before only this time it came from the right wing, and he screamed again. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He had already passed out twice and woken up again to his wings on fire.  They were mangled now. Torn, bruised, bleeding, broken, and shredded. He couldn't see it but he could feel it.  He could feel all of it.

"Let me make it simple for you, Castiel," Uriah said, coming around to face him again, sliding his blade along Castiel's bare chest as he did. "Either you leave Dean, and never speak to him or anyone he knows again, or we kill you as slowly as possible."  He gritted his teeth, and stuck the point of his blade into the skin below Castiel's chin, drawing more blood.

"Fine," Cas mumbled, barely able to speak. "Then kill me."