Hey guys! Here's the promised angsty three-shot AU of 13x21/22. This has been a long time in conception and I've gotten a lot of requests to do something for these episodes. Prepare for lots of feels and angst.

Disclaimer: Some lines are taken from those episodes.

A Dungeon Horrible

A Supernatural Fanfic

XXX

Part One

Darkness Visible

At once as far as Angels' ken he views,

The dismal Situation waste and wild,

A Dungeon horrible, on all sides round

As one great Furace flam'd, yet from those flames

No light, but rather darkness visible

Serv'd only to discover sights of woe,

Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace

And rest can never dwell, hope never comes

That comes to all; but torture without end

Still urges, and a fiery Deluge, fed

With ever-burning Sulphur unconsum'd…

-Paradise Lost (John Milton)

XXX

Sam gasped awake.

His heart stuttered several times in his chest before it found its rhythm, his lungs spasmed as he coughed to refill them. It was dark, wherever he was, and he was alone.

Sam surged upright, still gasping, trying to figure out where he was.

And then there were flashes. Of the last thing he remembered. The caves, the vampires, their fangs in his neck, tearing flesh and arteries…

Sam quickly brought a hand up to grasp at his throat. He remembered calling out to Dean, his brother shouting for him, but unable to get to him, hemmed in by even more vampires. And then they had ripped Sam's throat out.

Sam felt dried, tacky blood, but the skin underneath was intact. He had no idea how that was. Maybe Cas? But Cas wasn't anywhere in the cave. The angel wasn't helping him to his feet, Dean wasn't waiting nearby to pull him into a relieved embrace.

Sam and been dead. And they had known it.

He was also very cold. He shivered uncontrollably, frigid to his core. That feeling…he knew it, but it couldn't be. It couldn't—

His breath caught in his throat as he surged to his feet. He needed to get out of there. Now.

He spun around and a figure from his worst nightmares appeared from the shadows.

"Boo!"

Sam staggered back with an involuntary gasp, his heart ratcheting up to a gallop once again.

"Hi, Sammy," Lucifer smirked, his smile garish in the sparse light of the cave.

"No," Sam breathed, staggering back another step.

"Yeah," Lucifer sighed mockingly, giving a little shrug. "I mean you can do the whole pinch yourself, rub your eyes thing, or you can put on your big boy pants and just cut to the realization that, yup—it's me." He turned to meet Sam's eyes and he felt like he was back in Hell again. All of his worst memories were flooding back, only heightened by his recent trauma.

"You—y-you," Sam stuttered in a hushed voice, terror practically choking him. "You brought me back," he finally choked out in horror.

"I did," Lucifer said matter-of-factly, standing up and walking toward him. "You're welcome."

"Why?" Sam demanded, though he had a few guesses and none of them were good.

"Oh, well, I'm getting to that," Lucifer told him.

"The rift," Sam suddenly realized with a sinking feeling. If Lucifer was here then…oh god, this was so much worse than he had originally conceived. "The rift…Rowena…"

"Oh, she's okay," Lucifer cut in quickly. "I mean, I was going to kill her, but she blasted me here before I had a chance to, so…it was great, self-defense, but, uh…I was coming here anyway."

"But we drained you," Sam said, still trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"So…how did I have the juice to pull off my little Lazarus trick?" Lucifer provided. "Ah, that's a long story, but I was basically tracking you here, and then I came across a handful of Michael's angels, and I…ate them."

Sam's eyes blew wide, his heart clenching in his chest again. Lucifer smiled and cocked his head to one side.

"I guess it's not really a long story, is it?"

"What do you want?" Sam demanded.

"What do I want?" Lucifer repeated. "I want what everyone wants. I want a personal apology from Pop, I want re-run free year round episodes of Drag Race—"

"Yeah, got it," Sam cut in. "Okay, right, we're done here." He cautiously reached to grab his backpack that was still lying on the floor, his hands shaking.

"Where are you going?" Lucifer demanded then handed him a flashlight he held. "Here, it's dark out there."

Sam glowered at him and pulled his own flashlight from the pocket of his backpack, flicking it on. Lucifer rolled his eyes.

Sam took a deep breath and turned his back on the devil, toward the tunnels.

The instant his flashlight shone through the darkness, inhuman snarls sounded and the light illuminated a writhing mass of vampires waiting in the tunnel beyond.

Sam jumped back, horrified.

"Yeah," Lucifer said. "They're sort of…all over there and I'm holding them back."

Sam was paralyzed in fear, unable to tear his eyes way from the same creatures who had killed him only less than an hour ago.

"They're just waiting for a little snap of the fingers, bud," Lucifer said and Sam could see, out of the corner of his eye, that he was holding up his hand, poised to snap. "I didn't want them flooding in here and eating you again. Not until after we'd finished our convo."

Sam's breath caught in his throat but he swallowed hard and spun around toward Lucifer again, forcing a glower onto his face. "What do you want?" he demanded.

Lucifer paused and then finally lowered his hand. "I want what you already have," he said simply. Sam narrowed his eyes, confused. "A relationship with my son."

Understanding dawned on Sam along with fresh terror. No. He wouldn't allow Lucifer anywhere near Jack. He huffed, and shook his head, almost disbelieving.

"Okay, there was a time that I would just…grab him," Lucifer admitted and then he shrugged. "I've grown."

"Yeah, sure, yeah," Sam stuttered.

"I have, Samuel," Lucifer insisted. "I want my son, and you're going to help me."

Sam shook his head. "How?"

"Well, I don't feel like he'll give me a chance unless I come bearing gifts." Lucifer smirked. "Yup." He touched Sam's chest with a stupid 'boop' sound and smirked. "That's you."

Sam turned away, trying to fight through the emotions nearly choking him.

"Look, Sammy, I'm not asking you to like it, or like me. All I'm asking is that you acknowledge the truth. That I was the one who brought you back to life—that I was the one who lifted you from the darkness and into the light."

Sam almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn't believe Lucifer actually thought he could manipulate him like this, after everything. He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing hard.

"Okay?" Lucifer coaxed. "Apocalypse world? Michael's armies? You really think you and your family can handle that stuff alone? You need me."

Sam turned back to him but couldn't look him in the eye. "And what if I say no?"

Lucifer shifted, obviously agitated. He cleared his throat. "Okay, let me just make this really really easy; easy enough for even you to understand, Sammy. I'm getting to Jack. One way or the other. The only question is, you coming with?"

Sam took a shuddering breath, looking between Lucifer and back at the tunnel where the vampires shuffled, obviously ravenous. He could make a run for it, but…it wouldn't change a thing. He would never make it, he would die again, and Lucifer would just bring him back and start this all over again. Just like in the Cage.

Hopeless, terror clawed through him at that thought, and what he knew was coming. Sam felt a tear slide down the blood and grime on his face as he gasped in a sharp breath before he turned back to Lucifer, shaking his head.

"I will never help you," he said and, surprisingly, his voice was firm. "I will keep you away from Jack if it's the last thing I do."

"Oh, Sammy," Lucifer shook his head with a sigh, looking put-upon, but Sam could see the glint of delight in his eyes. "I really wish you hadn't said that….but, who am I kidding? I'm still going to enjoy it." His eyes flashed red and he flicked his wrist. Sam suddenly found himself flat on the ground, Lucifer standing over him with a psychotic grin.

"It's been too long, bunk-buddy," he said as he pulled his blade from inside his coat.

Sam's breath caught in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable.

Dean threw a water bottle into his backpack, slung it over his shoulder. It was automatic, his body doing what he knew he should but his mind wasn't there. His mind was back in that cave, watching his little brother get ganged up on by those vamps and…

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. The pain brought him back to himself and he took a deep breath, turning around to where Mom stood a little bit away, watching him. Cas was over to one side, telling Jack what had happened and the kid didn't seem to be taking it well. Cas tried to put a hand on his shoulder but Jack jerked away. Dean took another deep breath.

"Dean?" Mom asked quietly, concern in her voice.

"I have to go back," Dean murmured, pushing past her. "Get his body."

Mom didn't argue, probably realized how useless it was at this point and he was glad of that. He didn't need that right now. Didn't need to feel worse about anything than he already did.

"Dean," Cas hurried over to him, but still he didn't stop, heading toward the gates of the camp. "Dean, I'm coming with you."

"No, Cas," Dean said stiffly, not even looking at the angel.

He heard a short growl from Cas' throat and the angel gripped his sleeve, yanking him back around to face him. "Dean, I am not letting you go in there alone, it's suicide."

"And so what if it is?" Dean shouted, jerking out of Cas' grip. He should have been there to protect Sam, but he wasn't. And now his brother was dead and Dean just wanted to be lying there with him. They'd said that if they died they would die together, and yet Dean was still alone, because everyone always left him.

The angel shook his head, pain and exasperation and pleading all washing over his features. "Dean, if you think for one moment that I'm going to let you get yourself killed…" He pressed his lips together, blinking hard before he seemed to find the words, and when he spoke again and met Dean's eyes, both his voice and his gaze were shaky. "We just lost Sam; I am not going to lose you too."

A stake drove itself through Dean's heart at Cas' words. It was too soon to hear "lost" and "Sam" in the same sentence.

Cas reached out and gripped his shoulder tightly, forcing Dean to look at him. "Sam was my brother too, Dean," he said in a low, earnest voice. "And I am not going to lose another brother today."

Dean's throat tightened and his eyes stung. In his own grief, he had forgotten how Cas might be feeling. Cas had actually seen Sam dead and yet he'd had to leave him there in order to get the rest of them out. Cas had already saved Dean's life, pulling him from that cave because if he hadn't been there Dean would have already gotten himself killed. And Cas was their family. Dean supposed he had forgotten in his selfish grief that Cas had lost a brother too.

He blinked the threatening tears from his eyes and nodded firmly, unable to say anything. Cas nodded back, relief coming over his features as he squeezed Dean's shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

Then they silently turned and left the camp, going to do the last thing they ever would for Sam.

Sam tried to kick his brain into gear, he tried to fight, but he was petrified. Maybe it was just coming back from the dead, or waking to find that the single subject of his most frequent nightmares was the one who had brought him back, only to torture him again, but he couldn't focus. His brain was convinced he was back in the Cage again—that maybe, just maybe, he had never left after all. That all of this—the apocalypse world, everything—had been just a fabrication of Lucifer's as some new, possibly even crueler torment that he had become bored with and so he was going back to simple knife work.

"Relax, Sammy, you know it hurts less when you do," Lucifer cooed as he slowly stabbed Sam in the side. He cried out, tensing instead.

"You know, no matter how many, delicious years we spent down there in the Cage together, Sam, it never gets old hearing you scream," Lucifer said, sitting back on his heels. "Feeling more cooperative?"

"Sc-screw, you," Sam choked out.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Well, you haven't gotten any more eloquent." He traced the blade over Sam's collarbone almost contemplatively. "I just don't get it. I mean, do you like it when I torture you, Sammy? Is that it? Because I gave you an easy out and you still didn't take it." He broke the skin and Sam hissed, flinching as Lucifer leaned over close to his face with a smirk. "And no shame if you do like it, Sam. You know I don't judge."

"It wouldn't matter what I had said," Sam gritted out. "There is no easy out with you. I know that better than anyone. If I had agreed to take you back to camp you would have just found some other way to hurt me and everyone else. The least I can do is protect your son from you."

Lucifer slammed the hilt of his blade into Sam's ribs hard, causing him to scream as the devil spat in anger. "And doesn't my son get a chance to meet his father?! Make those decisions for himself?!"

Sam tried to catch his breath through the throbbing in his ribs. "Maybe, but not like this. I'm not going to have you manipulate him."

"Oh, Sammy," Lucifer chuckled wryly, tracing the blade over his face, and pushing Sam's hair back with it. "You know me—that's kind of my thing. Maybe right now, you're just a pawn, right where I want you."

"It doesn't matter," Sam insisted. "You know me—I don't break that easy."

"Oh yes you do, Sam," Lucifer said with a knowing smile. "Yes, you do."

And before Sam could say another word, Lucifer dug the blade into his flesh again and Sam threw his head back with a scream, the tunnels echoing with the sounds of his agony.

Dean and Cas trudged quietly through the forest. The landscape itself was silent, like all the animals had run off when the apocalypse had started as well. Dean found himself focusing on the crunch of his boots in the dry ground cover of leaves and twigs, Cas' steps echoing half a step behind him.

But the silence was only deepening the hole that had been carved into his core, and he couldn't stand it after a while, so he finally spoke. "How's Jack?" he asked Cas.

The angel gave a small sigh of regret. "He didn't take Sam's death well."

Dean clenched his jaw, his hands curling into fists, nails digging into his palms. "Sammy is—was close to the kid. I can see he would take it hard."

"Jack thinks Gabriel or I should have been able to save him," Cas said grimly. "He wasn't wrong."

Dean finally looked over at him, seeing the slump of guilt in his friend's shoulders that he knew all too well.

"Cas, you can't put this on you, alright?"

"But you can?" the angel retorted.

Dean pressed his lips into a thin line and looked off into the forest ahead. He knew that realistically Cas was right, but…damn it, if it didn't always kill him when he failed to protect his little brother. Watching him jump into the Cage with Lucifer and Michael had been hard, but at least he'd had something to hold on to. Sam had done it to save the world, after all. This…watching Sammy get swarmed by vamps and have his…his freakin' throat torn out…he hadn't felt like that since the first time, at Cold Oak when Sam had gotten stabbed in the back right in front of him. He had hoped never to have to go through another situation like that, that feeling of being utterly helpless to go to his brother's aid like instinct had taught him, but it had happened again and again, no matter what he tried.

Sure, this might have been a typical hunter's death, but that didn't make it all right. It didn't make it all right that Sam hadn't even died in their own world. That Sam had been taken, and Dean had been left behind.

"Dean," Cas softly prompted and Dean finally turned to him, halting for a moment. "We'll bring Sam home, regardless of what happens. We owe him that."

They owed him a hell of a lot more, Dean owed him everything, but he knew Cas was just trying to make him feel better and he was frankly too numb with exhaustion and grief to snap at the angel, especially since he knew his friend was suffering as much as he was.

"Yeah," he finally said and turned to start on their way again when Cas suddenly grabbed his arm.

"Wait," he said.

Dean heard it then, footsteps in the woods. They spun around but too late to get out of sight of the troop of angels that was marching their way.

"Run!" Cas hissed, but the angels were already shouting, running toward them several of them raising machine guns.

They spun around, launching themselves through the trees, even knowing how fruitless the effort would be. Sure enough, they were cut off almost instantly by an angel appearing in front of them. Dean had unfortunately gotten used to the fact that their angels couldn't fly anymore. The rest hemmed them in, guns raised.

"Hands up," one said. "On your knees."

Dean glowered at the angels and instead reached for his angel blade at the back of his belt, but Cas grabbed his arm firmly before he could.

"Dean, don't," the angel nearly pleaded, even as he glowered at the other angels.

One of them, probably the leader, stepped forward, a dark scowl on his face. "I said on your knees, worm!" he snapped before he backhanded Dean across the face. The hunter saw red and surged forward, frankly thinking of nothing more than going out while taking a few of these feathered douchebags with him. But firm hands grabbed him from behind and forced him to his knees with bone-crushing grips to his shoulders.

Dean struggled, but found it was little use as the angels relieved him of his duffle bag and held an angel blade to his throat. He glanced over to one side and saw Cas held similarly.

The leader of the troop approached them again. "That's better," he said with an oily smile, then reached down and gripped Cas' chin roughly, tilting his head back and forth. "Angel…but not from here. And one of the hunters from the other universe." He released Cas and straightened up, nodding to his troop. "We'll take them back to headquarters for questioning. They may prove useful. I bet they know where the camp and the nephillim are hiding."

"Why don't you kiss my ass?" Dean snarled, struggling again as the angels hauled him upright, before a punishing fist was slammed into his stomach so hard his feet left the ground. He groaned into his dirt, feeling like he would vomit as he was dragged bodily upright again, both arms held in crushing grips by the angel captors. He saw Cas shooting him a pleading look and sagged slightly.

"I think you could use a lesson in manners, mud-monkey," the leader snarled and jerked his head at his troop. "Come on, we don't have all day."

And with that Dean and Cas were whisked away through angel express and all he could think was that this day couldn't possibly get worse than it already had.

Of course, he was going to be proven wrong.

"You know, I really have missed this, our quality time together. Haven't you, Sam?"

Sam was drifting in pain and encroaching blood loss but snapped back to himself as Lucifer slapped him across the face. He took a shuddering breath and tried to struggle again, but Lucifer still had him psychically pinned to the ground.

"Hey Sam, what's worse?" Lucifer asked him with a look of false contemplation. "The fact that I'm torturing you again in a nice dark place that offers no escape, or the fact that everyone thinks your dead so no one is even going to look for you?"

Sam turned his head away from him and Lucifer sighed, obviously getting bored. The fallen archangel stood up and waved his hand. Sam felt the hold on his body give, and struggled to sit up, gritting his teeth from the pain, but Lucifer simply reached down and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, flinging him against the wall. Sam hit with a yelp, struggling but it was no use; he was once again pinned by Lucifer's powers.

"However, as much as I love our chats, we are on a short time slot here," Lucifer said, tapping the blade he had been using on Sam against his palm. "I left Rowena with about—oh—thirty hours of grace, give or take. And you, as usual, are being your stubborn self, and as much as I'd love to do our little Cage reunion rituals, I think it's time to move on to plan B."

Sam grunted. "Go ahead, if you think it will make a difference."

Lucifer shrugged. "Well, that's yet to be seen, but we'll give it the old college try anyway."

Before Sam could react to what was coming, Lucifer had stabbed the blade through his stomach. He choked back a cry of shock and pain, and Lucifer finally released his hold on Sam. The hunter collapsed in a heap at his feet, scrambling to press his hands to the bleeding wound.

"Like I said, Sammy, we could have done this the easy way but you left me no other choice. Now we're gonna see how my son likes his gift from his father."

Sam could barely hear or pay attention to him through the pain, but he did see the foot coming toward his head. Then it was all black.

The next thing he was aware of was extreme bodily discomfort. He let out a whimpering groan and struggled to grope around him, trying to figure out why he hurt so much.

When his eyes finally opened, he realized he was being dragged through the forest by someone who was holding on to the back of his coat. His head lolled up to see who it was and he let out a breath of fear as he remembered. Lucifer.

"Ah, you're awake." The fallen archangel suddenly dropped him and Sam cried out and curled up around the still bleeding wound in his stomach. He had a feeling Lucifer had done something so he wouldn't bleed out completely but the pain was immense.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam demanded, though to be honest part of him was really glad to be out of the tunnels.

"To gain favor with my son, of course," Lucifer said. "If he really likes you, then I bet poor little Jack was pretty sad to hear you had died. What do you think he'll say when I bring you back all tied up with a bow?"

"Jack's not that stupid," Sam whispered. "And Dean and the others know how I died. They'll wonder why I have a stab wound."

Lucifer smirked. "Not when they realize I jumped in here just in time to see you get gangd up on by an angel hit squad who had brought you back to life for interrogation and then stabbed you when you fought back."

Sam snorted. Like they would buy that. He focused on his body for a second, seeing just how unlikely it would be for him to make a run for it, and instantly put off that idea when he could barely roll over. Lucifer looked down at him with something like glee and something like mock pity.

"Come on, Sammy, you knew you weren't getting out of this that easy. Now, let's go see my son, or, tell you what, I'll throw you back to those vamps, and bring you back to life, and start this all over again."

Sam closed his eyes. It didn't matter what he said. He couldn't fight Lucifer in his condition anyway.

The archangel seemed to take that as his defeat, and grinned. He reached down and slung Sam over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, causing the hunter to cry out as his wounds were jarred. "Show time, Sammy!"

Mary watched Dean and Cas leave the camp with a tight feeling in her stomach, mixing with the grief and shock of the loss of her youngest son—in fact, she wasn't sure she had quite some to terms with it being real just yet. She instantly regretted Dean leaving the camp, horrified at the thought of losing him and Cas too, but she also knew there was no way she was going to stop him. She wished she could have gone with them, but she knew that with Castiel there, the angel wouldn't let Dean throw himself needlessly into danger. Besides, Mary was needed back here at the camp.

She glanced over toward the fringe of the camp where a small cabin that was too run down for living or supplies sat. Jack was sitting on the front stoop, arms wrapped tightly around himself as he leaned forward, head bowed.

Gabriel came up to Mary and stood at her shoulder, watching the boy almost hesitantly.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" he asked.

Mary shook her head. "No, I'll talk to him. Keep an eye on the camp."

Mary made her way over to the cabin and once she had gotten there, she simply sat down on the stoop beside Jack, not saying anything. She didn't crowd him, but she let their shoulders touch a fraction, just to let Jack know he wasn't alone.

The nephillim took a shuddering breath and reached up with one hand to scrub his wet eyes. "I can't believe he's gone," he whispered. "How did that even happen?"

Mary swallowed hard, finding it difficult to keep her own emotions at bay, but she would have to find time to break down later. Right now, she had to be strong for Jack even though she was breaking on the inside and she had no answers to his questions. Every time she closed her eyes all she could see was Dean's face when she had asked about Sam. The way he'd shuddered with the silent sobs he wouldn't quite allow himself to release as she held him. Castiel's devastation when he had broken the news to Jack…Even with all that, Mary still couldn't quite believe that her baby boy was lying dead somewhere in a cave, torn apart by vampires.

"I know it's hard, Jack," she said finally, forcing the words to come out mostly steady. "But sometimes, even seasoned hunters…" she stopped, realizing that Jack wasn't looking for a rational explanation. He was just hurting. "It shouldn't have happened, you're right, but we can't just let it break us, Jack. Sam knew the risks and he came anyway. We need to finish the mission so he doesn't have to die in vain."

Jack sniffed again. "It's not fair," he said. "I just…I want him to come back."

Mary couldn't stand the boy's pain anymore and simply pulled him into her arms, rocking him gently as Jack buried his face against her shoulder. "I know, Jack. I do too. I do too."

They sat there for a few long minutes before an alarm bell sounded through the camp and Mary pulled away, both her and Jack standing up and looking around. She put a comforting hand on his back before they raced back into camp.

Gabriel met them, a furrow between his brows.

"What is it?"

"Someone's approaching," he said."

"Is it Dean and Castiel?" Jack asked.

Gabriel shook his head and frowned deeper, looking like he was concentrating on something, then his eyes blew wide. "The warding! We broke it to get in here!"

He raced to the main gate, and Mary and Jack were right behind him, but by the time they got there it was already too late.

The intruder staggered in and Mary instantly felt her guts clench in recognition, but that wasn't all.

"Please! A little help—I have an injured man here!"

"Shit," Gabriel breathed.

"Gabriel what's going on…?" Mary started before she saw the intruder—Lucifer—kneel on the ground and unload the limp figure from his shoulders onto the ground rather roughly. Mary gasped as the injured man sprawled on his back, his face revealed.

Jack pushed through them even though Gabriel grabbed his arm. "Sam!" he cried.

Mary looked from the face of the devil to the pale bloodstained features of her son. The rest of the refugees stood around the scene in a circle, guns held at the ready, as if unsure of what to make of this situation. Mary wasn't exactly sure herself.

Lucifer stood up and faced them, his eyes instantly focusing on Jack. "Oh, hello, son."

The angels that had captured Castiel and Dean flew them quickly through the ether, and landed outside of an old abandoned gas station that, if Castiel had his bearings right, wasn't all that far away from where the refugee camp was located though it seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Dean still struggled against their captors and Castiel wished to fight as well, but didn't want to risk any more injury, especially since Dean would probably be the first one they decided was too much trouble.

"Get your hands off me, asshats!" Dean shouted, and one of the angels who held him slammed his face against the wall of the building, casing Dean to drop to the ground, stunned. The angels took the opportunity to cuff his hands in front of him and kick him viciously in the ribs.

"If you didn't need your tongue to talk, we would have cut it out by now," one of the angels snarled.

Dean growled out more curses and insults, trying to struggle to his knees, but he was beaten back into the ground and dragged inside the cabin. Castiel was manhandled into a pair of cuffs hanging from the rafters and he was left standing, his hands stretched painfully above his head as he watched Dean try to fight yet again after he was dumped in a corner.

"Dean stay down," Castiel pleaded finally, unable to stand the inevitable sight of his friend getting beaten unconscious. He couldn't stomach it right now, not after Sam. Not while he was tied up and unable to stop another of his brothers from pain and torment.

Dean looked up at him and Castiel recognized the raw pain in his eyes. He knew where Dean's head was, thinking the physical pain would work to dull the mental, but they both knew it wasn't worth it. Not when more pain was inevitably on its way. Dean finally sagged, the fight seeming to go right out of him as he slumped in the corner of the cabin.

One of the angels still kicked him in the hip for good measure as he bent and fixed Dean's manacles to a chain attached to the wall to keep him from going anywhere. The leader strode over to stand in front of them, hands clasped behind his back.

"Now," the leader said, glancing between Dean and Castiel. "I'm sure I don't have to explain how this is going to go. We want information, and you're going to give it to us. How strong are your numbers? Where is your camp located?" He strode closer to Castiel, and sneered into his face as he said, "Where is the nephillim?" He pulled back as Castiel met his eyes without wavering. "Consequences will be…harsh…if you do not cooperate. However, if you do, I will promise to make your deaths swift."

"Okay, you son of a bitch," Dean spoke up from the ground and Castiel's heart sank, knowing where this was going to lead, but there would be not stopping the Winchester either. "Let me explain how this is going to go. You can ask your questions, but we're not gonna give you shit. So you can take your threats and shove them up your ass. I have a brother to bury so I'd appreciate it if you'd let me go."

The leader simply reached a hand out toward Dean and made a fist. A cry was ripped from Dean's throat as he doubled over in his chains, blood dripping from past his lips.

"Stop!" Castiel cried as the angel continued for longer than necessary, a small smirk of satisfaction on his lips.

The angel kept going for another few long seconds as Dean hemorrhaged, then finally stopped, turning to cock his head at Castiel. Dean collapsed onto the ground, curled into himself and gasping for breath.

"You want to take the mud-monkey's place?"

Castiel clenched his jaw and lifted his head so he was gazing down his nose at the angel. "You think I'll be more willing to talk?"

"I think you're a filthy deserter who has mistakenly thrown in his lot with these maggots," the angel said, pure disdain dripping from his tongue. "And I plan to teach you a lesson if nothing else." He nodded to one of the other angels who stepped forward and yanked Castiel's tie off, then ripped his shirt open.

"So it doesn't really matter whether you want to cooperate or not, I'll still have you made an example of. I don't know how it works in your universe, but here, angels don't disobey. If they do, they pay the consequences."

Castiel swallowed hard but kept his head high. "As if I haven't heard that a million times," he growled. "Do your worst."

"Cas," Dean grunted weakly from the floor, but Castiel didn't look away from the other angels. As long as they were focused on him, Dean would be safe. If Castiel could at least get him out of there alive, then that was all that mattered. He had not been able to save Sam, but maybe he could at least save Dean.

The angel who had torn Castiel's clothes, stepped aside and returned a second later, handing the leader a coiled whip. The other angel took it and uncoiled it in a snake-like motion to the ground.

"Let's get started."