Broken, a Destiel Story

Part 28

"Hey," Dean said, wiping his wet hair with a towel as he stepped out of the bathroom,  "I'm hungry.  What do you say we grab some dinner?"

Castiel sat on the bed, back in his suit, realizing how odd it was that he felt more comfortable in a suit and tie than anything else.  "Sure," he said.  "There's a restaurant in the hotel. Would you like to go downstairs?"

"Can we get it sent up here?" Dean asked.  "Not because I'm embarrassed," he added quickly.  "I'm just kind of beat, and I want to be alone with you."  He crawled onto the bed and kissed his husband.

"Whatever you want is fine with me, Dean," Cas said.  

"I'll call them," Dean said, sliding off the bed. 

Cas turned the television on and started flipping through the channels.  

"Food is on it's way," Dean said, reappearing a moment later and setting his phone down on the nightstand.

"Nature calls." He went into the bathroom and shut the door, and the second he did, the room went dark.

"Dean?" Cas said, crawling out of bed.  His anxiety spiked.  He knew this wasn't normal.  Looking outside he could see that their room was the only one without power.  He grew more nervous when his husband didn't answer.  "Dean?" he said again.  He knocked on the bathroom door.  When Dean still didn't answer his heart started to race and he opened the door.  Dean was gone.  

"No," Cas said, starting to panic, his breathing growing heavier. He could feel his anxiety taking over. "Dean!" he shouted, running out of the bathroom. But instead of his husband he came face to face with an angel. Three in fact.  

"Hello, Castiel," Uriah said, smirking at him gleefully.  "Did you miss me?"

"No," Cas said, his heart racing as he started to move backwards.  He felt his head exploding with all of the terrible memories of being tortured at the angel's hands.  Having his bones broken, his feathers torn, shredded and burned, his skin cut and bleeding. He found himself backed into the corner of the room, stricken with fear.  "You're dead," Cas said, trembling.

"Yeah, not so much," Uriah replied, stepping closer to the clearly tormented angel.  "And it turns out, that not only did you not end your friendship with Dean Winchester, like we politely asked you to, you went and married the worm.  Naughty, naughty," he said waving his finger back and forth in front of Castiel.

"Where is he?" Cas growled.  "You leave him alone, or I'll. . ."

"You'll do what?" Uriah asked.  "You're too weak, Castiel.  Too weak to do anything.  Too broken, too scared.  All of that crippling anxiety that's flowing through you right now, that self doubt, that insecurity. . . You can't do anything for your husband."

Uriah snapped his fingers and two more angels showed up in an instant, holding Dean by the arms.  Castiel's heart fell, seeing the hunter's beautiful face bruised and bloody.  He was barely conscious, his head hanging down.  

"Cas?" Dean said weakly, blood dripping from his mouth and onto the floor.

"Let him go," Cas growled, taking a step forward.  But he knew he was no match for five angels, especially without his angel blade.  

"No, I don't think so," Uriah said.  He signaled to the two angels holding Dean and they disappeared with a flap of their wings.

"No!" Castiel shouted, running towards them, but it was too late, and he had Uriah, plus two other angels standing in his way.  

Uriah stepped close to him and grabbed him by the throat, shoving him back against the wall.  His eyes burned with anger and hatred.  "You disgust me," he said as Castiel gasped for breath.  He removed his hand from the angel's throat and punched him in the face over and over and over again, until Castiel was lying on the floor, blood spilling out of his nose and mouth, and dripping down the side of his head.

"How?" Castiel asked, coughing up blood.  "How did you find me?"

"Oh, we've been honed in on your grace ever since you got here.  It was a little hard to do when you were hunkered down in that super secret bunker of yours.  We were having some trouble at first, but then when you healed that poor little girl today your grace was like a beacon.  So thanks for that."

"Why don't you just kill me?" Cas said, picking himself up slightly and looking at Uriah.  It took more courage than he thought it would to look his torturer in the eyes.

Uriah crouched down and grabbed Castiel by his hair, slicing into his chest with his angel blade.  Castiel cried out in pain.   "Because I've got something much worse in store for you," Uriah hissed.  "What's the one thing, Castiel, that would be worse for you than death?" he asked, his face inches from the angel's.  He made another cut in the angel's chest and heard him scream.  

Castiel gritted his teeth, breathing heavily.  "I don't know . . . what you mean," he lied.

"Yes, you do," Uriah said playfully.  He cut the angel again just for the fun of it. "You, living the rest of your long, long life, knowing that you couldn't save your husband, that you couldn't protect him. That is your hell."

There was terror in Castiel's eyes that he was trying not to let show through. The same terror he'd felt all those months ago when Uriah had had him strung up. But this felt worse. This wasn't his life on the line anymore. It was Dean's. And that, the idea of living life without his husband, knowing he couldn't save him, that was worse than death. And Uriah knew it. "I . . . will find him," he said, determination in his voice.

"Oh, you will," Uriah said.  "But that doesn't mean you will save him, Castiel.  Not with who we've got on our side.  So try.  Find us.  But even when you do, you can't win.  Your hunter friends will all die.  And then Dean will die, in front of you, and you will be left to walk this earth alone, for an eternity."  He moved his face so that it was right up against the angel's, making him squirm.  "Welcome to hell," he whispered.  Then he shoved Castiel away and stood up.  "Oh, and by the way," he said, looking back at the broken, bloody angel on the floor.  "Gabriel is dead."