Castiel awoke in darkness, his movement restricted. The second he started to struggle, a light flickered on, temporarily blinding him. A man in a suit stood before him, his hand resting on a metal table, a cloth concealing something beneath. Castiel's overcoat was gone and his knees ached, pressing painfully into the hard concrete floor beneath him. He looked up to see his wrists bound, a chain attaching him to the ceiling. The throbbing pain in his head made him wince as he tried to remember how he had gotten to the present situation. The last thing he remembered was all of heaven's angels falling to earth, fiery comets lighting the sky.

"Welcome back, Castiel." the man in front of him sneered. He walked up to Castiel, bony fingers wrapping coldly under Cas' chin. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

At the sudden chill, Castiel tried to use his angel powers to teleport but instead he felt nothing.

"Your grace is gone," the man chuckled, "You're a mortal now."

Castiel glared coldly."Who are you?"

Smiling, the man pulled Cas' face close to his own. "Do you remember Alastair? I'm his replacement, Aamon." His eyes flashed black and a look of surprise and fear crossed Castiel's face. Seeing his reaction, Aamon released his cold grip and smirked.

In a panic, Castiel looked fearfully to Aamon. "Where are the Winchester's?"

With a twisted look, Aamon retorted, "That's where you come in." Then, smiling cruelly, he walked back to the table and pulled back the cover to reveal several unsavory instruments. "Now, why don't we have a nice, civilised conversation?"

Seeing the implements, Castiel struggled weakly against the chains, but it was to no avail as Aamon cackled, his deep laughter filling the small room with an icy presence.

Dean paced outside of his brother's hospital room. The doctor's had said that Sam had suffered several small seizures and now they were trying to stabilize him. The doctor walked out and told him he was allowed to see his brother. Dean rushed inside and stood protectively next to Sam's bed. Sam looked better. A lot better. His eyes were bright and alert. The blood had been washed off. He sat up strong and healthy.

"Sammy." Dean smiled and pulled him in for a hug. They parted and Sam looked up to him with worried eyes.

"What happened? What were all those meteorites?" Sam asked. Dean's smile left his face.

"Angels." he replied.

"Angels? How?"

"I don't know."

"Well-Well what about Castiel?"

"Not a word. He's ignoring all of my prayers. Again." Dean snarled. Sam sat up straighter.

"Maybe he can't respond." Sam suggested softly.

"I hope not. I'd much rather have the son-of-a-bitch ignoring me." Dean admitted gruffly. "Well in any case we need to get back to the bat-cave and work this all out."

"We should go look for Castiel too." Sam nodded as he stood up, and grabbed his clothes to change into. Dean remained silent.

Aamon pulled on the chain, drawing Castiel up to his feet. Castiel thought that the pain of falling and experiencing so much human emotion was too much, but it had been nothing compared to the physical torture he endured now had without his grace there to heal him and shield his vessel from the pain. Castiel's chest showed almost invisible scorch marks from the live wire Aamon had repeatedly pressed against it, and his throat was sore and gravelly from screaming. Bruises covered his face, and torso from where Aamon had mercilessly beaten him over and over with various blunt objects. His arms were lacerated where Aamon had taken a knife to them, slicing and carving till the fallen angel's blood drenched his broken body. Unable to hold himself up any longer he went slack against the shackles, causing his muscles to burn from the strain, and his breathing to go shallow.

"I'll ask you again. Where is the Winchester's main base of operation?" Aamon snarled. Castiel coughed, but otherwise stayed silent. Aamon grabbed Castiel by his hair and forced him to look at him.

"Answer me!" he yelled. Castiel remained silent. Aamon let go of Castiel to don protective gloves, and to grab the electrified wire that had been stripped of it's outer protection. Castiel tried to shrink back as Aamon came at him with it, but he had nowhere to go, and no strength left to move. The demon cruelly pressed the wire against Castiel's bare stomach, and smiled gleefully as Castiel's back arched, and his body shook and bucked. He shreiked until Aamon removed the wire, his body twitching and shaking even after the current was gone. He let out shuddering breaths, but still said nothing. Aamon threw the wire down in frustration and stalked out of the room.

"He won't say!" Aamon complained to the empty room he had just walked into. After a few seconds the front door to the abandoned warehouse slammed open, and Abbadon walked through.

"We need the demon tablet, which means we need the location of the Winchester's base. So get back in their and break him." Abaddon commanded.

"He's an angel! He doesn't break easy!" Aamon snapped. "And if I keep up much longer, he won't survive! Then what will we have?"

"He's human now. His ability to feel pain will have tripled. I'll heal him so you can start all over again, but if this isn't working, then come up with a different plan that will." Abbadon replied sharply, "Or it will be you chained up there, screaming." Aamon nodded in compliance, but didn't look away from her glare. Abbadon swept into the room where Castiel hung.

"Hello, Castiel." she greeted sweetly. Castiel flinched away as she cupped his cheek in her hand. He gasped as he felt a quick, sharp pain, but then it all went away. Even his exhaustion and hunger left him, and he was able to stand on his feet to support himself. A sense of dread and despair filled him. It wasn't a blessing, it was a curse. Now Aamon could start the torture anew without fear of Castiel fainting, or dying. Abbadon turned, and left the room whispering, "All yours," as she passed Aamon on the way out. Aamon turned and smirked at Castiel.

"Looks like it's just you and me now, huh?" he chuckled. Cas closed his eyes and shuddered as he felt dread and fear drown him completely.

Sam and Dean had stopped to pick up Crowley on the way back to the bunker. The ride there was spent in tense silence. Once they got back, they put Crowley in the dungeon, and spent a few minutes calming Kevin down, and explaining what had happened. Kevin went to work on deciphering the tablet immediately, leaving Sam and Dean alone to talk.

"We should go look for Cas, Dean." Sam swallowed as he looked down at his shoes. "He'd do the same for us."

"Would he?" Dean snapped. "The son-of-a-bitch messed up everything. Maybe he doesn't deserve to be looked for!"

"I've done alot of things too, Dean." Sam protested.

"That's different." Dean interjected.

"How?!" Sam yelled, "Dean, I started the apocalypse! I raised Lucifer from hell! It was because of me that you went to hell, Dean! So don't say it's any different!"

"Don't say that, Sammy! That's not all your fault!" Dean pleaded.

"Oh, yeah? Well thats not what you were saying a few hours ago." Sam argued.

"You're family." Dean replied lamely.

"So is Cas! If anything, you taught me that family doesn't end with blood, Dean." Sam countered angrily. "Cas could be god-knows-where, alone, and vunerable! We need to find him."

"Why, Sammy. Why are you defending him so much? The guy can handle himself, I'm sure he's fine!" Dean muttered.

"Why are you still angry?" Sam questioned.

"Look, even if that trenchcoated-pain-in-the-ass is off hurting somewhere, that isn't our responsibility."

"Since when?!"

"Since he abandoned us!"

Dean and Sam were silent. Sam finally huffed angrily, and walked out. Dean slowly limped over to a nearby a chair, and sank into it, holding his head in his hands.

The former angel's screams echoed throught the warehouse. It turned into sobbing whimpers as the boiling water Aamon had poured on his back, sank into his shirt and steam rose from his skin. But not once did he beg. He didn't say a word. Because deep down, he thought he deserved this. As he slumped toward the ground and the chains bit into his wrist, he thought that this was only a sliver of the punishment he deserved for what he did. And although he a small part of him hoped the Winchesters would come for him, he knew they wouldn't, and he knew he deserved it. This was his penance, and a calmness overcame him when he accepted that fact. He only gasped in pain when Aamon broke one of his legs. He could endure this, for his own sake.

Aamon frowned as he left the torture room. Castiel still screamed when Aamon inflicted pain, but he seemed to accept it. To break a victim's hope inflicted the greatest torture, but Castiel had no hope, giving him the upper hand over Aamon.

"Abaddon." He called sweetly.

"What?" she sighed as she walked in.

"This isn't working. Castiel has accepted his fate, it seems. There is no breaking him. You'll just have to find the Winchester's some other way." Abaddon mulled this over in her mind.

"Any suggestions?" Abbadon asked.

"Why don't we use him as bait?" Aamon suggested carefully.

"Will they come for him?" she asked. Aamon shrugged.

"It's worth a shot." he replied.

"Fine." Abaddon consented. "I'll leave that up to you. Call anyother demons you may need to help you." She turned to leave.

"Wait." Aamon called. Abaddon turned around unpatiently.

"He's pretty far gone." Aamon explained.

"I'll make him fresh again." Abadon smiled as she walked into the bigger room. She walked over to Castiel, who was slumped forward on his knees almost dead from bloodloss. His back had been skinned, each ligament exposed, and several carefully cut from the bone. Aamon had begun to snap his ribs, one at a time.

"He's barely breathing this time." Abaddon observed as she knelt down to examine him, "Maybe you should be a little more careful." She cupped his cheek in her hand again, and healed Castiel for the eighth time that day. Aamon grabbed the chained and pulled it taut, yanking Castiel to his feet. Abaddon patted him affectionetly, and left.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell us Winchester's are?" Aamon smiled, as he looked into Castiel's calm blue eyes. Cas remained silent.

"Fine." Aamon purred, and pulled out his phone. "When the Winchesters come for you, we can torture them for the information instead." Aamon laughed cruelly as the blood drained from Castiel's face, and a look of terror appeared on it.

Sam, Dean, and Kevin sat around the big table. Sam searched the web, Kevin translated the angel tablet, and Dean called around to other hunters for info.

"Dean, you should look at this." Sam whispered. Dean walked over to look, and Kevin followed. Sam opened an email from his inbox.

"Hello winchesters." he read aloud. "My name is Aamon, Dean may remember me as Alastair's understudy from his time in Hell." Dean's face paled and went grim. "I believe I have something of yours and if you want it back, I suggest you give me the demon tablet. Meet me at the following address." Two links were at the bottom. One said 'directions' above it, and the other said 'I believe this is yours'. Sam clicked on the first one, and it opened directions to a warehouse on Google maps.

"What does he have of ours?" Dean muttered as dread knotted his stomach. Sam clicked on the second one and it opened a video. Sam hesitantly pushed play.

The video showed a handsome man in a suit with black, demon eyes.

"Hello, I'm Aamon." he smiled, and winked playfully. He walked over to a table of torture impliments, and Dean felt his stomach flip. Aamon picked out a long leather whip with three long lashes, and pieces of metal tied on the ends.

"this used to be Alastair's favorite." Aamon explained. "It always elicited the loudest screams." Aamon looked at it fondly before unrolling it and giving it a practice lash. It cracked in the air, and the noise echoed around the warehouse.

"Wish he'd hurry up" Kevin whispered, the suspense getting to him. Aamon turned the camera around to reveal Cas. Dean sharply inhaled, and the blood drained from his face. Castiel slumped over, bound by chains, his head hung down. His overcoat was gone and although his body was unscarred, his shirt hung in tatters.

"Say hello, Castiel." Aamon urged. Castiel didn't even look up, but remained completely silent. Aamon turned the camera to himself.

"He's a little shy, but don't worry. Soon we'll get him singing. Now that he's human, he feels pain as much as you do." Aamon explained, smiling. Sam looked at Dean, but Dean didn't tear his eyes off the screen. Aamon set the camera down facing Castiel, and walked over to stand behind him. He raised the whip, and Dean closed his eyes in horrible realization.

"One." Aamon counted. Dean heard a crack and a heart wrenching scream. It sounded again, and again, until the screams deteriorated into whimpering sobs. Dean collapsed on a chair and held his head in his hands flinching at every scream or cry. Kevin left the room with his hands over his ears, and Sam silently watched with a look of horror.

"Forty." the demon finally stopped. Dean slowly looked up to see Castiel, dead weight upon his chains, and blood pouring from his lacerated back, as he whimpered, and panted. Aamon walked over to Castiel and tore what was left of his shirt off. Castiel shuddered, and his skin shivered as Aamon caressed his back with the whip. He then felt around with his fingers, sticking them into wounds, and feeling around, laughing as he heard Castiel gasp or cry out in agony.

"I look forward to seeing you." Aamon giggled. Then the screen went black. The replay button popped up, Sam simply shut the laptop. The brothers looked at each other, as Castiel's screams still seemed to echo through the room.

"We have to go." Dean choked. "It's our fault this is happening." Sam nodded in agreement. They packed their weapons, told Kevin to lock up behind them, and climbed into the Impala.

"He's going to be alright, Dean." Sam comforted. "He's stronger than he looks."

"Yeah, back when he was still a goddamn angel." Dean snapped back. Sam remained silent, and Dean drove like a man possessed.

The Impala screeched into the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse. Dean and Sam leapt out of the car, their weapons at the ready. Five low level demons attacked at once, but the brothers took them out with a vengeance. Dean grabbed the last one and forced it onto the ground, holding the demon knife up to his neck.

"How many of you ugly son-of-a-bitches are there?" he snarled. His attention was diverted when he faintly heard Castiel scream in agony. The demon took the opportunity to try and break loose, but the older Winchester just bashed it's head against the ground and slit it's throat. Dean led the way as they broke into the warehouse. They would've gotten lost in the giant maze of factory rooms if it hadn't been for Castiel's excrutiating screams, and the echoing crack of a whip. Before the brothers burst into the room where Castiel was being tormented, Sam grabbed his brother by the shoulder.

"Don't you think this has been to easy?" Sam pointed out.

"Of course it has, it's a trap." Dean explained. He flinched as another scream sounded from the other side of the door. "But it doesn't matter right now."

"Wait! I should stay behind and wait for the trap. No use in both of us getting captured." Sam suggested. Dean nodded in agreement.

Dean burst into the room, as Aamon was raising the whip. He lowered it, and turned around to face them.

"Ah, I've brought Castiel begging to his knees, and had to heal him two times before you got here. " Aamon smiled charmingly. "We were working through our fourth session," Aamon gestured back at Cas where he had already started on the bared chest, already covered in stripes and welts. "What took you so long?"

Dean angrily approached Aamon, gripping the demon knife tightly.

"You fucking son-of-a-bitch, leave him alone!" Dean yelled. He was walking towards Aamon when a small voice stopped him.

"Dean, please." Castiel wheezed brokenly between gasps. "It's a trap. Get out while you still can, leave me here. I'll be fine." Castiel agonizingly raised his head, and smiled at Dean feebly. Dean almost choked on the guilt welling up inside. He looked into Castiel's eyes, but they had become dull, and glazed over, the blue not so brilliantly shining anymore.

"It's not your fault." Cas assured Dean quietly. The crack of Aamon's whip as it dug into the flesh on Castiel's face broke the connection. Castiel shrieked in anguish, as Dean lunged at Aamon. Aamon dodged his attacks easily, laughing at his fruitless efforts.

"I'm sorry I had to interrupt your little chick flick moment." Aamon giggled as he swooped in and expertly twisted Dean's wrist, effectively disarming him. Aamon then twirled around to Dean's back, yanking Dean's arms behind him. Dean inhaled sharply, and struggled against the demon's grip. Aamon snickered in delight. Just then Sam burst in covered in someone elses blood, and weilding an angel blade. Dean used the distraction to jerk his arms free; spin around, and stab Aamon in the throat with the demon knife. Aamon had seen it coming, and smoked out even as Dean killed his vessel, returning to the fiery pits of hell. Dean and Sam rushed to Castiel's aid but, Abaddon appeared before them, holding Cas' head up by a handful of hair and pressing a knife against his throat. The Winchester's stopped in their tracks, and held their breath.

"Give me. The. Tablet." She hissed through clenched teeth. Castiel's eyes were beginning to droop from pain and exhaustion. His body trembled violently, and he breathing came out as desperate sobs. They were losing him.

"Here, take it, you bitch." Dean snarled as he pulled out the tablet. "Now let Cas go."

"Nuh uh." Abaddon shook her head. "Slide the tablet over first."

"How do we know you aren't lying?" Sam accused.

"Your ex-angel has 4 minutes before he dies of blood loss. You don't have a choice." Abaddon smiled cruelly. Castiel's breathing had become even more labored. Dean set the tablet on the floor carefully, and slid it across the room. Abaddon quickly disappeared with the tablet in hand. The brothers rushed to Castiel's side. Dean cupped Cas's head in his hands, and gently shook it, as Sam searched Aamon's old vessel for the key to the chains.

"C'mon, man. Stay with us." Dean pleaded. "Stay awake, Cas. Don't you leave on me, now." Sam finally found the key, and he unlocked the chain holding Cas in place. Castiel involuntarily cried out in pain as Dean gripped him tight and gently laid him on the floor. He kept shaking Castiel, begging him to stay conscious. Castiel painstakingly opened his eyes.

"That's right, Cas. It's gonna be okay, just stay with me." Dean urged.

"You should have left me." Castiel whispered. Dean leant in closer to catch every word. "I deserve this and a million times worse after all I did."

"No." Dean responded forcefully. "We'd never leave you here Cas! You're family. Haven't we all suffered enough?" Cas just stared back. Sam cut in as he gently hoisted Castiel so that he could bandage the wounds.

"I called 911. They'll be here soon. it's going to be okay," Sam ensured them. Dean held Cas up in a sitting postion, as Sam applied pressure to the wounds. Castiel flinched several times, but said nothing. He was losing the battle to stay awake, and to stay alive. Finally he spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Dean." he sighed.

"It's okay." Dean gave a watery smile, as he squeezed Cas' hand. The sirens on the ambulence pierced the quiet night, but they were too late. The blue In Castiel's eyes shown brilliantly one last time before slipping away and glazing over with a dull gray.

Dean cried that night.