1. Chapter 1 (1/2)
"would you like to try that again sam?" she asks, annoyed.
he gasps for air in response after she withdraws the cattle prod. the cold water they poured on him continuing to drip down his
uised and battered body, mixing with blood and sweat. his hair, disheveled and damp hangs down his face. he continues to find it difficult to keep the air in his lungs, his chest heaving up and down. every wound throbs, particularly the one in his leg. it's likely infected if the extra pain is to be trusted; either way, his captors don't seem to mind that much. bunch of assholes.
he's been here a while. though he's not sure what here actually is. what he does know is that it's been some time since dean died. some time since dean had been turned into a freaking soul bomb and sent to kill amara, or more preferably the darkness. god (chuck?), he wishes he was making that up.
once again big
other had been forced to fix one of his messes. all because he'd wanted to save his
other from the mark, that he had stupidly taken on, he had doomed the world again. and all it took was one of the
other's lives.
he's sure he's in the empty right about now, if billy was true to her threat. a place where no one comes back from, so no demon deals or spells or anything else he had in mind.
shrinks would say they're severely co-dependent, and he wouldn't deny that certainty. especially with the fact, he had planned on joining his
other there, soon. hell, he was thinking maybe a hunt "gone wrong", something easy to be written off as an accident. that being more preferable to simply pulling a trigger, tieing a knot, or cutting and bleeding. although it isn't like he hasn't done those things before, so maybe he had just wanted an ending people who knew him could find comfort in; something they would blame themselves less for.
don't be too shocked, it's not likely he had much to come back to. all his attempts at a normal "apple-pie" life had been burned to the ground. all his family was dead and were in heaven, except for dean, yet hopefully at peace. he had friends, but it's only a matter of time they would die as well. it's not like any good came out of knowing the winchester's, let alone him. cas… cas would've been okay he's sure. maybe if he was dead he'd be able to return to heaven, help fix things after metatron and uh lucifer…
yeah, maybe it was a good thing he wasn't able to go through with it.
though all of that had been a long time ago, he's sure. the lack of actual sunlight makes it difficult to distinguish the time, let alone the amount of days that pass.
from what he could remember cas and him had just gotten back to the bunker, the world no longer at the
ink of death, and they'd been met with some random blonde woman. however, the alarms in his head were a bit slow since he was too late to prevent her from sending castiel away with a sigil. then he was held at gunpoint and he couldn't help but give off a few smart-ass remarks until being met with a bullet to the leg, and seriously why was he the one always being shot lately?
when the pain had registered, followed by a pinch in the neck from behind, his memories became fuzzy. it wasn't till later that he'd receive small glimpses of time in-between; like the van ride, stopping at an animal doctor to receive very amateur medical attention, and the feeling of being roughly hauled to a small and darkroom. the clearest memory he has at the moment is waking up to that blond bitch - toni - who had prompted him to answer some questions with her pen and notebook in hand.
now that had elicited a signature bitch-face along with a "fuck-off". surprisingly she was patient, as she had continued to ask her questions and in reply, he threatened and insulted her; he may have channeled some of his now-deceased
other's cockiness as well; then when her patience had finally been filled she had moved on to a different tactic; torture.
if he's honest, she's pretty adept at the subject. unlike what he had been conditioned too though, she simply lacked the creativity. rather, her forms of torture having so far been generic and from the book. yet, it didn't make it any less painful, though it was easier to manage. he thinks maybe the lack of emotional investment is the reason for it, to her, it seems to be simply part of the job.
a no-strings-attached kind of thing.
death by torture isn't his most preferred end if he's being honest. especially if it's out of his hands like so many times before. because isn't that what his life has always been about, control?
control over his destiny, his story, even his death.
when he had thought and planned of dying on a hunt, he had done it with the intention of it being on his say-so; allowing a monster to tear him apart, throw him around. hell, even by his own hand if his hunter instincts wouldn't allow it.
he's never been allowed to die as long as dean was around, and he loves - loved - his
other so much. but, he's tired and ancient. so yeah he had wanted to die, wanted to for a very long time. that never changed, he just simply kept pushing the date back further and further.