Chapter Text
The first time you ‘sleepwalked’ in front of the guys was when you were passed out in the backseat of their car. They had promised to sit you down after to explain what happened when you found yourself on the edge of the road covered in fresh scrapes and mud pinned beneath the two of them. Considering they were mostly still strangers to you it took some convincing to get you back into the car.
They had pulled into the nearest motel they could find. Dean stayed with you in the car, where you sat as far against the back seat opposite him as possible, eyeing him warily.
When Sam came back with the keys they gave you plenty of space to walk. The second you’re through the motel room door you bolt to the bathroom, locking it quickly behind you.
After taking some time to calm yourself you force yourself to look into the mirror. You try not to cringe at how sunken and dead your eyes are or the deep bruising you can see spreading from your face and down your neck, disappearing beneath your shirt. You force yourself not to touch any of the small cuts that mar your skin, each in various stages of healing. You knew it only got worse beneath the fabric of your borrowed clothes. Clothes that not that long ago had been on one of the demons that had enjoyed torturing you.
Suddenly you couldn’t strip fast enough, although you’re very careful to avoid catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. When you remove the offending garments from your skin you turn the water on as hot as it can go, and then stand shivering as you wait for it to heat up. You’d had enough cold water on your skin to last a lifetime.
Grabbing the little sample soap and shampoo from the sink and a washcloth from the basket of linens you step into the scalding spray, hoping to burn away the memories; physical and mental. You spend the next twenty minutes scrubbing every inch of skin that the demons had touched and tortured that you can reach; inside and out.
You ignore the drops of blood that hit the puddling water as you open some of the fresher cuts. At least they were small. Small cuts hurt enough to make it worthwhile but aren’t so much that there’s a chance you might escape by dying.
You have to be a little more gentle when washing your midsection to avoid pushing too much on what you’re sure is a broken rib or two. Nevermind the fact that you can barely use your left arm, having had that shoulder dislocated so often. There may be a fracture or two there as well but you can’t localize the pain in that area anymore.
The hot water starts to cool way too soon. You still feel the phantom touches on you but at least they feel dulled and distant. You can’t ignore the little bloody streaks that cover the first towel you use to dry yourself off. Throwing it away from you, you grab a second one and wrap yourself tightly before sitting down on the edge of the bathtub to contemplate your next step.
Part of you still isn’t sure that this isn’t one more torture that was set up by the demons that had grabbed you from your apartment a week ago. It seems like it had been much longer but Sam and Dean had assured you that it was only a week ago that you didn’t show up for your shift at the library. Of course you didn’t know if you believed them.
When they first busted through the doors of that factory and started stabbing the crap out of those assholes who were holding you, you had felt nothing but relief. But as they finished off the last of them you’d felt the tiny seed of doubt sprouting. They had done so much to hurt you, new creative things, that it wasn’t inconceivable that this was just another route.
You probably would have run the second they led you from the factory but you were so exhausted and weak that you knew you wouldn’t get very far. Instead, you’d crawled into the back seat of the old black car sitting in front of the building and passed out.
When you’d found yourself in the ditch being pinned, you were sure you’d been right. They’d promised that they hadn’t been trying to hurt you and when you were someplace safe they would tell you what had happened.
Now you were that some place safe and you didn’t know if you should unlock the door...
The soft knock on the door might as well have been a wrecking ball crashing through for the start it gave you.
“Hey, I’ve got some clothes for you to put on, if you want something different.” Dean, that was the name of the man that the soft, hesitant voice belonged to.
You eye the pile of clothes on the floor, a dress the female demon had been wearing and a suit jacket from one of the males. If you hadn’t been stripped down at the time of your supposed rescue you would have refused to let the fabric so much as touch you but the alternative of riding around naked with these strangers was less appealing.
But now you’ve got a better option waiting on the other side of the door. Most of your brain is screaming that it’s a trap but your entire body is begging for warmth and a soft bed, two things you’d seen none of since you were grabbed. Food should probably be on your mind but the idea of eating anything has your stomach rolling.
Cautiously you turn the lock, bracing yourself for the moment when the door would be flung open, but it never comes. When you open the door just a crack and use the reflection of the mirror to see around it the man with the short hair and startling green eyes is standing there with a pile of clothes folded up and resting across his outstretched arms. You reach around the door and snatch them quickly before shutting the door and turning the lock again.
Logically, you know that if these men were demons like the others then that little lock would do you no good, but it still brings you some small comfort. You dress quickly before glancing in the mirror. The grime and dried blood that had been caked on your skin and in your hair was gone but your hair was still a tangled mess and the difference in the appearance of your skin was minor with all the bruising. At least the cuts on your face had mostly been older so there hadn’t been much bleeding when you’d scrubbed there.
Turning to the door you pause as you hear raised voices.
“Sam, we talked about this.”
“Dean, she needs a hospital, hell she needs a lot more than just a medical doctor after everything she’s been through.”
“We can’t just dump her in a hospital. We don’t know if there are more revenge seeking demons out there. She hasn’t told us anything. What if there were more at the factory that are gonna show up expecting their little plaything to be there?”
“So what do you wanna do? It’s not just the bruises. You felt the way she moved, saw the way she favored her body. There are things broken in there. Nevermind the fact that she nearly killed herself and us when she tried to run.”
There’s a long pause and for a moment you wonder if the conversation is over.
“We can ask Cas.”
“Dean, I don’t know if this girl really needs to be dealing with any more of our crap right now. From what her aunt said she had no idea about any of this before she was grabbed.”
They’re so focused on their argument they don’t hear the soft click of the lock, or the turning of the handle. They both look rather startled when you speak from the open doorway, your voice hoarse from abuse.
“Who’s Cas?”
Dean starts towards you but stops as soon as he sees you stepping back into the bathroom. He puts his hands up in a non threatening manner before taking a big step backwards.
“Cas is a buddy of ours. He can take care of those injuries of yours.”
“Is he a doctor?” You can’t figure out why the taller of the two would think that you would be so upset by a doctor but it’s the only option you can think of.
“Sort of. Ya see he’s got these abilities…”
“Is he...is he a demon?” You hate how small your voice sounds but fear has a strangle hold on your throat right now.
“No!” The force of Sam’s voice has you cringing visibly. “Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to…”
Sam runs his hand through his shaggy hair roughly in frustration.
“Hey Sam, you're supposed to be the calm comforting one remember?” Dean takes another step back from you gently waving his hands at you encouraging you to come further into the room. “He's not a demon, but what he is, is complicated. More complicated than any of us have the energy for tonight. But I promise he can make you feel better.”
You want to protest. You want to beg them to just leave you alone here. But as you take a tentative step from the doorway of the bathroom you feel your skin tug painfully, feel small trails of blood forming where the very baggy clothes hang away from your body. When the small twist of your body that's caused by stepping forward nearly causes you to pass out as lightning shoots from the tender area of your ribs and all your mind registers is fear because you see the two men in the room suddenly move forward, you know you don't have a choice.
“Okay.” You give a small nod, your eyes glued to the floor.
Looking up through your lashes you see Dean close his eyes and bow his head. Your confusion only mounts when he speaks.
“Hey Cas, I know you're probably busy but we could really-”
Dean's voice is cut off when you hear a gusting of wind and the flutter of what sounds like fabric before you’re startled by a deep gravelly voice directly behind you.
“What do you need Dean?”
Spinning around and backing away quickly you manage to stumble over your own feet and would have fallen had strong arms not gripped you from behind. Jerking away you turn just enough to see behind you to where Dean is standing. The concern clouding his eyes should be enough to melt some of your defenses but you knew how good the demons had been at pretending.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay. He’s not gonna hurt you, none of us are.” Dean hesitates before glancing over at Sam and then back to you. “He is going to have to touch you.” When he sees you starting to pull further away he rushes on. “But it’s just one touch and just right here.”
He gestures at his forehead.
Turning your attention to the new arrival you take him in. He looks human but so did the demons and obviously there’s something different about him, what with his appearing out of nowhere and his apparent ability to fix you with a touch.
Your cursory appraisal finds nothing overtly threatening about him but it’s not til you reach his eyes that you feel the first very weak thread of hope. You couldn’t describe it if you tried. You feel like you should be afraid with the way those blue eyes are piercing through you but you feel nothing but comfort.
That doesn’t stop you from having to steel yourself as he moves towards you to keep yourself from backing up. He halts with his hand raised toward you when you start to speak.
“Can you..Can you fix everything? Even..” you hesitate and can feel the tears filling your eyes and threatening to spill forward. “Even things you can’t see...on the inside?”
“Oh yeah, Cas can heal anything!” Dean’s voice rings out, the enthusiasm at what he’s saying clearly evident, like he’s excited to tell you good news. It would be endearing if his next words didn’t make it clear he had no idea what you were talking about. “He’s a master at broken bones. I don’t know how-”
“Dean.”
You can’t help but glance over at Sam when he speaks and see the knowing look in his eyes as he tries to get his brother to stop. It makes sense since he was the one that had covered you up after untying you. He’d tried really hard to make it look like he hadn’t noticed the high concentration of blood caking your inner thighs.
“What, Sammy? It’s true, how many times has Cas fixed us up. Much better than having to set a bone ourselves.” Dean’s ignorance of the situation was almost preferable than Sam trying his best not to look at you.
“Dean, I believe she’s referring to the internal damage to her reproductive system, although she does have a fair amount of fractures and breaks as well.”
You feel your skin flush almost painfully as you do your best to avoid meeting Dean’s eyes as the words sink in. You try not to think about the words that the woman had spoken in your ear after they had decided that the repeated rapes had lost their entertainment value and they had moved on to worse means of torturing that particular area of your body.
She’s never gonna be able to make babies now. Not that she’s gonna live that long anyway .
It takes a minute for you to realize that people are speaking. You hear mumbled awkward apologies and shushing noises coming from the two men but your eyes are once again drawn into the eyes before you, serious and calm. Your voice is nothing more than a whisper when you speak again.
“Can you?”
The face is still stoic but you can sense the tiniest hint of a smile in those eyes, something you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been staring at them intently, your breath held as you wait for an answer.
“You’ll be able to bear children again should that be something you choose to do.”
The tears that have been threatening finally spill forward and your body is wracked with a sob of relief before you manage to lock it up. You’re frustrated at the show of weakness. The demons had enjoyed it the most when they made you cry. You scan the faces in the room looking for the telltale signs of delight but see none.
Turning back towards the man Dean had referred to as Cas you only have a second to register that his hand is moving in to touch your forehead, his eyes closed in concentration.
Your body sags against the bed in relief as you find yourself pain free for the first time in quite a while.
“You should sleep now.” You look up at the man who had taken your pain away, the many thanks you want to give him on the tip of your tongue. But his words register and you instead shake your head frantically before looking around the room from person to person.
“No. No I can’t, I don’t want to. I won’t-” The last thing your register is another warm touch on your forehead before everything goes black.