Castiel (apoorexample) wrote in elysianfieldsrp, @ 2010-07-02 17:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | castiel, meg |
Who: Meg and Cas.
What: Bonding through torture. Or bondage and torture. Same thing.
Where: An abandoned warehouse.
When: After this but before this.
Rating: We'll just say R.
Status: Complete.
He didn't remember how he had gotten here, which was probably the first sign that something was very wrong. Even in those darker days back at the camp, when he'd been stoned to the point of oblivious apathy, he'd already been where he needed to go and he hadn't wandered somewhere else. He'd certainly never ended up somewhere unfamiliar with no memory of how he'd come to be there.
His head hurt, so that was probably a good bet for the why. And given he was tied to a chair, he definitely hadn't just tripped and hit his head. Or if he had, he'd had help. The whole situation was looking like it was going to be of the decidedly unpleasant variety. He opened his eyes, letting his vision clear, and then narrowed them in disgust at the sight of the woman-shaped thing in front of him. Of fucking course. "Meg," he said sarcastically. "Why am I not surprised? To what do I owe the pleasure?"
When he awoke Meg was sitting cross legged on the ground in front of him, patiently awaiting for him to do just that. And when he did she grinned brightly, despite his obvious displeasure at seeing her. “Oh good, you’re awake,” she said with another grin, though there was a definite darkness to her eyes as she did so. The small collection of knives and the blowtorch that sat beside her was definitely not a good sign for Cas.
She grabbed one of the knives closest to her and sat up. “Well... it was a combination of things really,” she said as she moved closer to him. “One, I was bored,” another dark grin as she perched herself in his lap. “Two, you make the most adorable hobo,” she smirked and titled the knife in the light, watching as it bounced off the blade. “And three,” she looked back at him. “Payback’s a bitch.” With that she dragged the knife across the side of his face, drawing a thin line of blood.
"And you're observant," Cas said dryly. Even tied to a chair, at the mercy of a demon with a serious grudge against him, he didn't lose the sarcasm. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen. If nothing else, it was a testament to the life he'd lived before he'd died, that he wasn't even phased by the array of weapons she had and the knowledge she'd probably be using them on him. Either it had made him apathetic toward violence, or he'd just seen and faced worse than her. Maybe both.
He was honestly more bothered by her proximity than he was by the threat of violence, and it showed in his face. He forced himself not to react as she cut him, staying quiet and still. It wasn't hard. He'd had worse. "Funny," he said after a moment, ignoring the blood, "Here I thought you were the bitch." He smiled. "You're going to have to do better than that, sweetheart."
It was easy enough for her to notice that it was her closeness to him and not the threat of oncoming violence that threw him the most. It was fine by her. She wasn’t above using that against him. She’d used it against plenty others before.
Meg grinned as she pulled the knife back. “Oh but I’m just getting started, sweetheart,” she mocked and plunged the knife into his shoulder.
“You know I’ve heard this crazy rumor that we can’t die,” she started and she could quite honestly be discussing the weather the words were that casual. “What’s say you and me do a little testing of that one,” she said with a smirk and ran a hand down the uncut side of his face.
Castiel hated demons. Even though it had been years since he'd been an angel, that had stuck with him. Being near them made him uncomfortable, and if his hands had been free, he would have shoved her away. Violence, he could handle. It was the feel of her, of what she was, that bothered him.
It hurt, he wasn't immune to pain the way he had been before and it hurt like hell, but he stubbornly refused to react. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of letting her get to him. Dean wouldn't have, so he didn't. It was almost sad, the way he tried even now to act the way Dean would.
"Of course we can't," he said with a roll of his eyes. "How do you kill someone who's already dead?" Honestly, was she stupid? They weren't alive, so they couldn't die. He was proud of the way he didn't jerk away when she touched his face, and he smirked at her. "Go ahead. Give it your best shot."
Castiel infuriated her more than any angel she had ever encountered. His faith, in a God that abandoned them all, in Dean fucking Winchester of all people, it was enough to make her sick. Meg herself had never had faith in much of anything. The only thing she’d ever had faith in had been snatched from her, ripping a hole in her that never would heal. Anger was so much easier.
She pulled the knife out of Cas’ shoulder and lodged it into his stomach, she grinned from her spot on his lap and twisted the knife. “I bet it still hurts like a bitch though.”
Fuck! Gut wounds were always messy and awful and this one hurt like a bitch. He clenched his teeth against a groan of pain, still refusing to let any reactions show. He was obviously in pain, but he wasn't about to admit it. He had every intention of clinging to his stubbornness until she gave up or somehow manage to kill him. He still wasn't sure which would actually come first, and he wasn't sure he cared.
"It stings a little," he said, the words coming out with some difficulty as she twisted the knife, "but I've had worse."
“Haven't’ we all,” she said with another smirk but it lacked her usual showmanship. If anything the comment came off as defeated. Meg herself had endured far worse, the centuries spent in hell.
She twisted the knife once more before she pulled it out. Cas had degraded her in a way few ever had. He’d tossed her body into flames and used it to walk across. She knew this stunt, taking him like this, wouldn’t be without its consequences. But she honestly didn’t care. Dean Winchester could rip her apart as long as she could make Castiel feel a fraction of what he had done to her.
She stood and plunged the knife with all her strength into Cas’ leg, just above his kneecap.
He didn't regret what he'd done, didn't feel any remorse for the way he had used her. All that mattered then, all that mattered for years after, was stopping Lucifer. That had been his life and harming one demon hadn't even registered. No, that wasn't true. He enjoyed it, because he knew she had hurt Dean and Sam, that she would again, given the chance.
That hurt, more than he had been prepared for, and this time he bit through his lip trying to stifle a shout of pain and not entirely suppressing it, his leg jerking in reflex. "Fuck," he swore.
She grinned at the reaction. It warmed her heart really. To see Castiel in just as much pain as she had been. She pulled the knife out and it was probably a damn good thing the wound would heal faster than usual here. Hell she was about an inch short of chopping the damn thing off.
After a while, Meg removed herself from his lap and dropped the knife on the ground before she picked up a can of gas. She looked back to Cas as she started making a large circle around his chair. "You asked me if it still burned," she started. "Every fucking day," she answered as she finished the circle. She stepped into the inside of the circle of gas and pulled out a book of matches. "Thing is Cas... something like that... for us... it'll never go away. I'll always feel it, I'll always have a burning inside," she said, her tone lacking its usual sarcasm, for once almost sounding like a human being hurt. "Anything I do to you, wouldn't even come close." She lit the book of matches and tossed them onto the gas igniting it.
"But I'm sure as hell gonna try," she said and untied Cas, pulling him to his feet roughly. "This feels familiar, doesn't it?" she asked with a tilt of her head. "You and me, close, a nice roaring fire." She gave a twisted grin and shoved him just as unceremoniously as he had done to her into the fire. She gave a satisfied smirk to herself at his screams and walked over his body to escape the flames.