This is War(Supernatural AU)

Chapter Twenty-Five

The next day, guards finally put Dean in the infirmary after he passed out from his injuries. Bobby figured out pretty quickly that if those guards still left Dean alive then that meant Lucifer was still using them for leverage. And if that was true, then that meant you were still alive. "That little lesson wasn't for us," Bobby picked at the stale bread on his tray.

They let Dean out the minute he started asking for extra pudding cups. At that point, the nurses figured he was okay. While Bobby was explaining his theories, Dean shoveled spaghetti noodles down his throat. "You think it was for (Y/N)?" Dean asked in between coughing from the big pieces he ate.

Bobby grimaced in disgust. He put his fork down in defeat. "Maybe start chewing your damn food, I'm trying to eat here!"

Dean paused, the realization hitting him that the food wasn't going anywhere.

"And yes," Bobby nodded. "That means (Y/N) is still alive, Dean."

The elder Winchester put down his fork. For some reason, hearing that information did not comfort him as much as he thought it would. He sighed, "If that's the case, then he's still got (Y/N) hostage."

Bobby frowned. "Yes, but this is a start."

"We might have to talk to that Crowley guy again," Dean grit his teeth, waiting for Bobby to lash out.

"Over my dead body," he replied sternly.

~Meanwhile~

Two weeks had passed since you had to watch that beating. You were grateful to know they were alive and you weren't just doing his bidding for nothing, but to be reminded that Lucifer basically had them on a leash made you feel terrible. He could do anything he wanted to them and there was nothing you could do about it.

The weeks post that event didn't get any better. Lucifer ordered the guards to, "Toss (her/him) in (his/her) room and let (her/him) rot for a few days. I don't think (he/she) really learned (his/her) lesson."

Somehow, the one guard who you were convinced hated you, Vince, felt bad and started sneaking you outside to get some fresh air. The first time he let you out, you cried. It didn't help either that you were still blindfolded and your wrists were tied behind your back. You smiled as warm rain pressed little kisses on your face, feeling comforted by the hot air hugging your sun-starved skin. It was humid and rainy outside but you didn't care. You were just happy to be let out.

When your sister first introduced you to the assassin life, part of her training was solitary confinement. At the time you didn't think it would've been useful and could barely last a day. But nothing could prepare you for what Lucifer had in store for you. Maybe that was why Vince decided to let you out, even if it was just for a few minutes.

It didn't take long for Lucifer to put you up for another task. At this point, you were surprised he hadn't just killed you. Seeing that video of Dean, broke you and everyone could tell. You were standing outside his office when you overheard a phone call he was on.

"Look, I'm not meeting with the board, that's final! A Clypse Enterprises doesn't need their investments. I'm a fucking billionaire!" He shouted angrily. "Why don't you go take another look at 66 and then come back to me? That's what I pay you for don't I, Meg?!"

Your heart skipped a beat. 66. There was that number again, but what did it mean? Vince stood awkwardly beside you, waiting for Lucifer's angry fit to end before knocking.

"I don't care, do your job or I'll have someone else take care of the situation!" Lucifer shouted. He slammed his phone hard onto the table, leaving a crack on the screen. "Oh FUCK YOU!"

He tossed the phone at the wall. Glass and metal shattered onto the floor. Timidly, Vince knocked on the door twice. "WHAT?" He yelled, a single vein popping out his forehead.

"I brought (Y/N) as you requested," Vince said.

You could hear Lucifer sigh on the other side of the wall. "Come in," he said quietly this time. There was a tinge of exhaustion in his voice.

Finally, Vince led you inside by the arm. They no longer bothered restraining you anymore because Lucifer knew there was no way you'd try running. It was as if Lucifer hadn't just cussed someone out seconds before because his lips were curled into an oddly calm smile. You don't know what was more scary, him angry or him pretending not to be.

Lucifer walked back to his desk and sat down, leaning back comfortably in his chair. Vince led you to the seat across from him and stood closely behind.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, (Y/N). You ready for another job?" He asked with a smile. That was it, another confirmation of how psychotic this man was; grinning in your face like he didn't lock you up in solitary confinement for days. Or maybe he was satisfied by his work: finding in pleasure in breaking down your tough exterior.

You had nothing to say. Part of you just wanted to cry, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction. So all you did was nod.

He raised his brows and pursed his lips in shock. "Wow, you're awfully quiet," he frowned, "I kinda miss the fiery, sassy (Y/N)."

You said nothing in response, giving him a dead pan expression.

He turned to Vince. "I think we may have broken (her/him) down too much," he sighed, "Oh well, as long as (Y/N) gets (his/her) job done now."

On top of the glass table lied a Manila folder. Lucifer slid the folder closer to you, prompting you to open. Slowly, you flipped open the folder to read the name: Azazel Moore. You couldn't help but let out a gasp, rereading the name over and over again. It couldn't be. You flipped through pages with images of him seemingly alive and well. So the boys didn't get to him either. The whole reason you were in the situation you were in now was because of him.

"You know him don't you?" Lucifer quirked an excited brow.

You closed the folder, finally looking him in the eyes. "When do I start?"