Invalid (Supernatural)

5. Shooting Stars

Ion took both Tabbris and Cas to what looked like Crowley's private office. At least, it was an office with a desk that Crowley sat behind. The back wall was comprised completely of a large bookshelf in front of which sat a large mahogany desk that was neatly organized. In front of the desk, were two dark, vinyl armchairs. The floor was the same color as the desk, also wood, and the walls were a dark shade of brown. Crowley sat in a blood, red chair behind the desk in all his glory.

Ion placed Tabbris and Castiel carefully down in the chairs, trying not to injure them further. When they were settled, Crowley smiled widely at them.

"Just wanted to take a moment to chat with my old business partner," Crowley said to Castiel. "I assume you won't die just yet. Takes a painful long time to bleed out from the gut."

Castiel held on to his wound tightly and said, "You can do whatever you want, Crowley. I will never tell you where I buried the tablet."

"I know, Cas. I know," Crowley replied smuggly. "Luckily, I don't believe you'll have to. I've been getting regular updates from my expensive friend here." He nodded to Ion. "Naomi should have caught you out of the gate, seeing as lately she's been knuckles-deep in that melon of yours. She thinks that your touching the tablet broke her spell over you, right?"

"The tablets weren't meant for angels, and they weren't meant for you."

"She's a busy woman, so you can't blame her for missing it," Crowley continued, standing up from his desk and sauntering over to Castiel. "So I was thinking, if Cas got away from her by touching the tablet, why would he ever stop touching the tablet? Then I thought, he hasn't stopped touching the tablet, now has he?"

Then Crowley plunged his hand into Castiel's wound. Castiel shouted in pain. Crowley slowly pulled out a large rock slab from Castiel's body. It stretched the wound even further as it slid out of his body. Crowley held up the tablet triumphantly.

"You've been a good sport." Crowley smiled at Cas.

Then the phone on Crowley's desk rang. Ion looked up at Crowley, his eyebrows pulled together uneasily.

Crowley picked up the phone and listened. He frowned and sighed, irritated.

"You jackasses, you're ruining my steak!" he cursed into the phone and hung up. "Watch them, I'll be right back," he told Ion.

Crowley walked briskly out of the room and there was a moment of silence. Tabbris, for one, had no intention of breaking it. He was royally pissed. He had been disarmed. Ion had disarmed him. Now Ion was the only one left with a blade, which he held firmly in his hand. Unfortunately, this left Tabbris with no options of escape as of now. He knew Ion. He knew he was a great warrior and Tabbris didn't have a weapon to fight him with.

"How far can this go?" Castiel asked Ion, interrupting Tabbris's thoughts.

"Shut up," Ion replied.

"How far can we let it all drop?" Castiel persisted. "This charge was left to us, it's our mission."

"Do you even know what the mission was?" Ion retorted. "They've been in all our heads. Hell, they've been in yours, they've been in his," he motioned to Tabbris, "and they've probably been in mine too."

Tabbris's eyes widened. "What?"

"Of course you don't know," Ion continued. "That's right, Tabbris, you've been reprogrammed. The master of reprogramming is just another puppet. Why do you think I'm always around you? Naomi assigned me to watch you."

Castiel looked over at Tabbris.

"No," Tabbris said stubbornly. "That did not happen. You are only saying this to get me to defy my orders as you have done."