damned_institute | Day 55: Cafeteria

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Day 55: Cafeteria

A night spent inside his room had done nothing to ease his jitters. Peter couldn't stop worrying. Over Brainy, what he thought of him now that he knew about what he'd done to Grell, and where he was going for the night. If he'd be safe. If Indy and the others would be safe, trucking on down to the basement. (Not frigging likely, considering 'basement' was synonymous for 'giant ass doom pit'.) If that ominous intercom announcement had meant anything. Peter had spent hours staring into the dark after that, his stomach churning his supper into butter over the horrific possibilities. Whatever punishment that arose for the food fight was a mystery. It didn't seem to infect him, unless it was a particularly trying case of insomnia. No matter how badly Peter tried, he couldn't find the will to sleep. Much of the night had been spent making notations and doodles in his journal by flashlight, peppered with long stretches of staring at the dark.

Honestly, he'd rather be taking another crack at the Hall of Hallucinations instead of rolling around in his bed. Paranoia was his only company the whole night.

Morning felt like a blessing by the time it came. He wasn't sure when sleep had finally overtaken him, but as he blinked his way into life he couldn't help feeling a bit...off.

It was really quiet. Peter's face scrunched under the light, and he stretched underneath the covers. There was a zip of cotton on cotton, and his shirt half dragged itself out from under the belt.

His eyes shot open. Belt? The covers flipped back, and Peter gaped down at his form on the bed. ...Belt?!

What the frigging hell was this? Peter jolted to his feet, patting himself down. He looked like some kind of air cadet. There were freaking epaulettes on his shoulders (was that even what they were called?), boots on his feet and a beret on the dresser. A single pin was nestled into the front, looking freshly polished as it glinted in the light. Peter snatched the hat up and stared. Two letters were inscribed on the pin. Nothing more, nothing less.

"SC..."

Special Counseling? Peter's expression took a turn for the frantic. What else could it stand for? He tried to run through a few candidates, but nothing stuck. Nothing applied so neatly without being ridiculous, because it clearly didn't stand for Super Cuckoo or Spider Cadet. Was he supposed to wear this like some stupid badge of honour? God, just brand it across his forehead, why don't you? My name is Peter Parker and I totally snapped a guy's arm for Mother Landel's. Hail the Smiley!

Peter pressed the beret against his face and groaned into the fabric. This was it. They weren't playing games anymore. They were finally turning this into death match boot camp and sending them off to war. Shit. Shit he was going to be in the frigging army in some messed up alternate universe, and he didn't even know what the frick they were fighting against or why they were fighting. If they were pulling magical whatsits out of every book and TV show known to man, then who knew what wacky threat they were up against. Aliens? If it was aliens, he was quitting. He was going to curl up on the ground hugging a grenade and pull the pin. Just no. No. This was not happening. This could not be frigging happening.

Except that it was. The person who whipped open the door that morning wasn't the affably sour Nurse Rachel, but a hulking, thickly built man who looked like he consumed a toddler a meal solely to fuel his pecs. Peter couldn't even find the breath to argue as he was told to tuck in his shirt and put on his boots and come to the cafeteria. He left just as another soldier brushed past them to collect Brainy, and Peter abruptly realized that in his confusion he'd forgotten to check if the boy was okay.

Too late for that now. Peter tried to match pace with the burly man, fumbling to put his snazzy new beret on and watching with wary eyes as other patients were dragged by. Things seemed even bleaker as they hit the cafeteria. The buffet was empty. The scent of food was lacking. Soldiers packed along the borders of the room so neatly you would think they were part of a particularly tacky wall paper. And worst of all? Buckets. Mops and rags and brooms, all piled in the center of the room.

The lady officer's speech was entirely unnecessary at that point. Peter withered where he stood as she told them their duty. It was like a scolding from Aunt May, if someone gave her a gun and a license to use it. Except the joke only made things worse - now he just wanted his Aunt. The force of his loneliness bowled him over like a wrecking ball. He might never see Aunt May again. Peter's gaze fell to the floor and he clenched his fists.

Was this it? Was his life really over? Escape never seemed so far away.

There was no protest from him as they were sent to work. Ashen and queasy, Peter stumbled towards the cleaning supplies and selected a bucket and a rag. He couldn't even bemoan his lack of breakfast. His nerves were making it impossible to even think about food.

They needed to get out tonight. Everyone. Somehow...

[Lion!]

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If she thought that was offensive, the cafeteria was even worse. Of all the time she'd spent thinking well, hell, at least the food's good she was now faced with a cafeteria devoid of it entirely. Talk about crappy dining options. The officer in charge was, to Ruby's surprise, a woman. Her snide sarcasm was quickly drawing up a sneer on Ruby's face, arms folded over her chest in silent protest. When the cafeteria door slammed and a soldier began trying to shove a sponge for scrubbing into her hands, Ruby felt her last thread of patience snap.

The constant fucking trapped feeling wasn't enough. Losing her abilities, being stuck in there with an angel who wanted her head on a freaking platter, wasn't enough. The monsters, the feelings of inequity. She was done. She threw the sponge onto the floor near the soldier's feet, livid.

"Funny, doesn't look like your arms are broken. You can clean your own freakin' floor. You don't want us slinging food around, open the door and I'll be the first one outta your hair."

[ Red Bull gives you wiiiings ]

The last thing that Castiel had expected to come upon during the testing of his Grace was that demon. Ruby was the name she went by; whether that was her true title or some alias she'd picked during her manipulation of Sam Winchester was difficult to say. She should have been little more than a memory by now, and yet somehow she was in this place. It bothered him that he hadn't immediately sensed it, but even with his wings coming back to some semblance of functionality, it was clear that he was nowhere near his true level of power.

And so Castiel woke up agitated, not feeling like it was an awakening so much as coming to -- or being interrupted. He'd been about to put Ruby in her place when the night had ended, and it was only in the aftermath that he realized that he had to handle the situation carefully. Sam didn't even know him, but he knew Ruby; they'd been in his room together, so it was clear that there was a level of trust there. If he didn't approach the matter properly, then he would only make himself look worse. It would be just as hard to prove she was using them as it would be to prove that he was on their side.

More than that, his sudden appearance had proved that the demon still had some of her strength with her. Telekinesis wasn't even scraping the surface of what a strong demon was capable of, but it was concerning nonetheless. He shouldn't have brought an unaware human like Orihara into such a situation, but he hadn't been able to predict Ruby's presence in the slightest.

As Castiel sat up in the bed, he realized at a delay that his clothing had changed. The new uniform was still nothing like what he was most used to wearing. In fact, it reminded him of what a police officer might wear, with the light blue shirt. The armband was curious, and he still didn't understand what the emblem was supposed to signify, other than happiness.

He was no master of emotions, but there was nothing happy about this place according to his definition of it.

While he only knew a small amount about human military forces, he was aware of what dog tags were. There was Michael's name, staring him in the face again. It wouldn't have disturbed him so much if he'd simply understood the purpose of it. The line that read "D Class" and the number following it were even more mysterious.

At that point, however, a soldier burst into the room and ordered him (by that fake name) to get his shoes and his beret on. Castiel wasn't used to having to get dressed the way that humans did; usually he just inhabited his vessel and the clothes were already there. Despite that, he didn't have much difficulty with getting either the boots or the hat on, and once he was done he was ordered outside.

As distracted as he had been by Ruby's presence at the end of the night, he still recalled the words he'd heard spoken over the intercom then. The voice had belonged to a human man; whether he was possessed or not remained to be seen. After what had happened to Landel, Castiel was becoming more and more accepting of the idea that it truly was humans who were behind all of this, and yet he felt that there had to be a demon pulling the strings somewhere in the equation. It was frustrating that he was unable to sniff them out himself. Regardless, he had heard words like what had come from the general many times back in Heaven. They were soldiers, after all, which meant that they had one purpose. If they did not fulfill that one objective, then they were considered invaluable. It seemed that the formula was the same here, although the objective was not nearly as clear in this place. Perhaps it would become so soon.

Regardless, it seemed that the general's subordinates were similarly strict, as the man who escorted him barely spoke a word. In many ways, Castiel preferred that to what the nurses had attempted with him before. Small talk was not well-suited to him.

As he entered the cafeteria, Castiel also recalled Gabriel's odd behavior from the night before, wondering if it had a connection to anything else that was going on. However, he didn't spot his brother anywhere in the room. In fact, his eyes were drawn to one place and one place only, and that was the spot where Ruby was standing, already acting like she was above the task that they had been given.

Castiel didn't know much about cleaning, nor did he care at that moment. Seeing her face again, hidden as it was by the human whose body she'd stolen, caused a new flare of anger to work its way through him. He stalked toward her, his eyes cold and his body language as stiff as it had been the day he'd first inhabited Jimmy Novac's body, when he hadn't yet been accustomed to moving around as a human would.

Upon reaching her, Castiel didn't speak a word. Demons always spoke more than enough for everyone else, after all, and her reaction would be worthwhile in its own right.

Waging a one-woman war against the soldier based solely on her indignation of having to get turned into a freaking janitor for her captors wasn't exactly difficult, let alone how Ruby had been planning to spend her morning. She'd acknowledged the previous night with Sam that things would be different from now on with what had happened to Landel, but this was something different entirely from what she'd anticipated. She was pretty sure no one could have anticipated this.

Still, she continued the argument, a few scathing, far from family-safe words escaping her as she tried to stubbornly defend her position, but as the soldier barked back the same line of bullshit that his superiors had drilled into him based on some senseless authority, she reeled herself in. Not because of what he was saying by any means. In fact, she'd begun to tune him out entirely already.

Her attention was focused on the tall shape in her peripheral vision. In the uniform, she didn't recognize him at first, but the figure marching towards her warranted her attention regardless of who it had been. When she saw it was the angel, her first instinct, regardless of how sure she was that he was just as impotent as she was in Landel's care, was absolute, gut-wrenching terror.

Even with her limited capabilities and his muted divinity, she could pick up the smell of Grace on him. It smelled like power, and more of it than any one being should rightfully have. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and her entire demeanor appeared to bristle. Overcoming the instinctive, rightful fear through rationality and sheer force of will was rough going.

Briefly, her eyes scanned the cafeteria for Sam on impulse. Not that he was angel-proof or even that those freak abilities of his would do any good against them, but she'd gotten a little used to considering it his job to have her back when this kinda thing went down. Going up against an angel all on her lonesome was what most demons would consider suicide, after all. But, Sam wasn't coming, and it was her only other option. That skittish, surprised look morphed into sneer that curled her lip.

"What, you didn't get enough last night, you wanna go another round? Well, bring it, Feathers. Let's see that divine judgment -- you wanna play exorcist, do it already. I'm not gettin' any younger." It was all kinds of stupid to bait him, and even as it was coming out of her mouth she knew it. If her assumption was wrong and he did have the juice for sending her back downstairs --

Well, how bad would it be? It'd mean getting out of this place, and then she could redouble her efforts to getting Sam and Dean out of here, signed and delivered, as promised. Wouldn't be so bad if the angel stayed stuck.

The way Ruby reacted as he approached was clear as day to the angel. Demons had a built-in repulsion to angels. It wasn't as severe the other way around, but that didn't make him any more comfortable around her. However, she was the one who was tensed like a threatened animal. He was the one who was in control. That gave him the conviction to step up to her without the slightest hesitation. He doubted she would be able to use that telekinesis in broad daylight, after all. What he'd had the night before had left him as well, but he was hopeful that it would return when darkness came.

She tried to cover up her fear with the usual demon bravado, but more than that, she was urging him to try and banish her. Castiel realized that listening to her was the same as giving in, but all in all it wasn't a bad idea to make an attempt. Ruby was the first demon he'd come across while in this place, after all, and so this gave him his first chance to test what he could do here.

Without any warning, he closed the gap between them, his hand moving up to her forehead. To anyone looking, they might have thought that he was checking her for a fever, but in reality his intentions were not nearly so pure. (Some angels would have considered the exorcism of demons the most fitting definition of purity, but Castiel was not most angels; not anymore.)

However, even as he put all of his concentration into dispelling the demon's presence from the human body, nothing happened, and eventually he had to give up and let his hand fall to his side.

Ruby's very existence was an impossibility, and yet that wasn't something that Castiel could argue so readily. He had been brought back from the dead himself, after all; though that had supposedly been God's doing, and he could not imagine why his Father would have brought back a demon. Maybe her death simply hadn't been as absolute as the Winchesters had thought.

"Do you realize your own fate?" he asked, his tone grim and demanding. Ruby wasn't likely to give him direct answers, but if she was unaware of her own death -- if she was from before that point, much like Sam and Dean were -- then that would give him a definite advantage. Demons were cowardly creatures. It was something he'd be able to hold over her head.

There was a stoicism to his presence and demeanor, the kind that so often accompanied real power. It was clear, as it had been the night before, in the way he carried himself, but not just that. It was clear in the silence, the gritty expression, and in the way that he unflinchingly strode toward her and placed his hand to her forehead.

As he approached, terror gripped her and every inch of Ruby's body tensed as a result. One foot inched backwards, ready to draw her away from him, but there wasn't much use to it. There was no escaping the grace of God and even demons had that fear instilled in them still, especially those who'd been around as long as Ruby had. The ones who were old enough to remember that angels were soldiers -- warriors. Not the cheerful, cherubic images that they'd been twisted into. They were something to be feared.

Ruby's eyes, her body language, whether she liked it or not betrayed every ounce of frightened feelings that were building in her and making her dread what two seconds ago she'd stupidly begged for. Suddenly she was second guessing that decision. Second guessing whether or not he was really as powerless as she could feel that she was. Regardless of how useful it'd be to them to get her out of there so she could work from the outside, the last place she wanted to be in the world right now was Hell. Alastair alone …

Luckily for Ruby, the intended assault, however, was rather anticlimactic. It took a moment for the racing of her heart and the anxiety flooding her mind to work itself out. But, passing seconds of unvalidated paranoia slowly dulled the tension and left her feeling awkwardly hollow. Not even a tingle. All that pomp and circumstance and anger and he couldn't even make her soul itch.

While his hand fell to his side, she found her fear turning into something less dire, and then even into a short burst of cold, harsh laughter. As if she'd never shown that moment of real, soul-bearing terror. Suddenly, with the figurative gun off the table, she felt far more comfortable mocking him. Particularly because there wasn't much that she assumed of his question. Angels were powerful, it was true, but this one was, by appearances, wholly impotent. There was no reason to read into his words regardless of whether or not she'd usually consider knowing her

"Same as yours. Same as anybody else in this little slice of paradise. Point being?" Her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest as she spoke, her weight shifting to one side and causing her hip to jut out.

As far as Castiel was concerned, the demon could laugh all she wanted. That terror had still been there, so intense that even he had picked up on it clearly. It was true that he had now proved that he was no threat to her, but that likely meant that she couldn't threaten him with much of anything either. A stalemate was frustrating in and of itself, seeing how it should have been simple to exorcise her, but there was no point in dwelling on failures.

He had failed enough times by now that he was growing used to the feeling.

More important was her response to his question. The vagueness of the answer made him suspect that she was not aware of her own death, which meant that resurrection or trickery might not have anything to do with it after all. Instead, it was simply a matter of manipulating time again. That was no small task, of course, and yet it seemed to be common in this place.

And what was the purpose of that? Why was he the one who seemed to be furthest along? Did his divinity have something to do with it, and if that was the case, then where did Gabriel fit into the timeline? But trying to get a serious answer out of his brother was as difficult as trying to get Dean off of one of those vibrating mattresses once he put a quarter in.

The sudden, irrelevant memory caused a strange pang to pass through him, but Castiel brushed it off. Now was not the time.

Realizing that he might still have the ability to sense Ruby's time the way he had done with Sam and Dean, Castiel took a moment to simply concentrate on her; this time no physical contact was needed, thankfully. It took a moment, but he eventually pinpointed a time. She was ahead of Sam, which she had likely determined already, but she still had quite a few days to live out before her end came.

He saw no reason to leave her blissfully ignorant, and his expression hardened once more. "It will take them time, but those brothers will eventually determine what it is that you're doing. And you will pay for it." He said it with complete seriousness, giving no room for it to be seen as a bluff. Angels didn't lie -- or he didn't, at least.

The level of certainty in his statement, coupled with the momentary scrutiny, had her shifting uncomfortably. All right, suddenly it didn't seem like something to laugh at. His words confirmed a paranoia she'd had for some time -- one she'd presumed to be misplaced, considering how good she was at her job and how coleus she'd gotten to Sam -- that the Winchesters would fell her before she could do any real good to the cause. Before she could get what needed to be done, done.

But that was impossible. There was no way this guy could, angel or not, know anything about it. Her expression remained impassive as he spoke, and she made sure to process that worry and anxiety into something that she could file away for later as quickly as she could and jump right into the witty repartee portion of her morning. Pulling this stuff out straight out of bed, she deserved a freaking medal.

"Didn't realize my life line was on my forehead. Palm readers these days just keep gettin' better and better," she quipped, the loathsome curl of her lip not budging an inch. By all appearances, she was strained to try and fight down that violent rage and keep herself restrain to a stoic level, but really she wanted to project all of that on top of her own disconcertion. It was a believable enough alternative.

"What I'm doing is exactly what Sam wants me to do. What have you done to help out the team, lately? Killed and Apocalypse-inclined demons?" There was that harsh, biting laugh again. She shook her head, giving him a once over to size him up judgmentally. Not a chance in Hell he'd done it, not in the shape his abilities were in, and they both knew it. Lilith was still alive and the angels were doing jack to just blast her sky high. They could easily do it, they knew what she was doing -- that was no question. So, why leave it?

That was the big question. But she had a feeling she wasn't gonna get the answer out of him, not when he was avoiding the whole straight answer thing. Probably had something to do with that big cloud of pompous entitlement he had himself wrapped in, she figured he thought he was too good to be talking to a demon. Even if that demon happened to be a 'good guy' these days.

"Might wanna dial back the fortune cookie wisdom if you're gonna try and dole out predictions, or just leave it to the real psychics." The real psychics. Her eyes skirted the cafeteria searching for Sam, wondering if he was doing any thinking on their conversation from the night before and making use of the psychic gifts he had. She'd be a whole lot more reassured about the whole thing if she didn't have angel boy here preaching that she was gonna get her comeuppance from the boys.

Edited 2011-03-11 08:38 (UTC)

A demon should have known that angels were capable of moving through time in the most dire of situations. Perhaps she doubted his power, or maybe she was simply in denial. It wasn't as if any creature -- demon, human, or angel -- would want to hear of their own demise. She probably thought that he was trying to scare her by fabricating details, but it was nothing but the truth. None of her attempts at humor would change that.

However, there she went with that silver tongue of hers, trying to make herself seem like the one in the right. She had apparently done a good job of it, seeing how she'd had Sam eating out of her hand (literally) for a time. Castiel had been busy with his own struggle with Heaven at that point, and in retrospect he had done a number of things that he wasn't proud of. Letting Sam out of the cage that Dean and Bobby Singer had put him in had inadvertently led him to kill Lilith, after all.

It was something he still hadn't owned up to. The level of trust between him and the Winchesters was too tenuous for him to take such a risk.

The moment that Ruby brought up Lilith, Castiel was tempted to tell her that someone had killed her, and that someone had been Sam. But that would only be giving her the information that she wanted the most, which was that her carefully crafted plan had succeeded. That was information he had to keep safely guarded.

He could always let on that he knew what she was up to, however, and so Castiel crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to stare her down. "The moment I see Sam again, I plan to divest him of every last bit of information. About Lilith being the final seal, about your true motives, and about why your death is necessary."

Maybe he didn't have the power to exorcise her anymore, but if he made the Winchesters believe him then all they needed to do was find the right ingredients and they could put Ruby through a worse Hell than that. He realized the task was immense, but that wasn't enough to stop him. He couldn't stand idly by and allow her to wrap Sam around her finger once more. And if he was drinking her blood, that would make matters even worse.

Before he could say anything further, however, a soldier stepped up to them, his face clearly showing his impatience. "Both of you need to stop yakking and start working. Get to it already!"

A sponge was shoved into Castiel's hands, and he stared down at it blankly. He'd never done anything of this sort before, as Heaven didn't generally get dirty. Filth was something generated by humans. Still, he was decent enough at learning by example that after nodding at the uniformed man, he bent down onto one knee and started rubbing the sponge over the floor.

The threat of telling Sam had Ruby's blood boiling in an instant, and while she was positive that it was exactly what the angel was going for, that didn't stop it from working like a charm. She took a hasty step closer to him, ready to turn off all that civility she'd been trying to work up and give into the instinctual fight response that had to be drilled into the very core of angels and demons. If only she had that knife on her, she'd--

Luckily (probably for both of them) the soldier stepped between them, barking further orders that weren't sitting well with Ruby given how violence-prone she was starting to feel. What could she say? That self-righteous dick had managed to get under her skin. But, lashing out and taking the soldier out with the angelic asshole wasn't going to get her anywhere. Getting sedated for half the day instead of being able to assess exactly what was going on wasn't gonna help her or Sam. And it definitely wasn't gonna help them get Dean outta there.

So, she swallowed down her indignation and her fury and shuffled a step back, snatching the proffered mop out of the soldier's hand and sneering bitterly at Castiel as she did so. Gripping the wooden handle with both hands, tight enough that if she were at full power she might even accidentally break it, she slammed the bottom of the mop against the floor. She gave a few back and forth movements just to keep the soldier happy, then directed her attention back at Castiel.

The hot flurry of rage in her gut wasn't going anywhere, and it was only worsened by the panic that was kicking in that he knew about Lilith. No one was supposed to know about Lilith, not even Alastair. And this angel was just throwing it around like nobody's business. If Heaven knew, surely she was fucked. There was no way they could pull this off if there were angels in the way. Especially if one of them planned to perch on Sam's other shoulder.

So she picked the mop up a little and jammed it against the sponge that Castiel was using to scrub the floor, forcing him to stop the movements and pay rapt attention to her. And, well, sufficiently covering his hand and the cuff of his sleeve with dirty mop water was a minor bonus.

"If you go near Sam spewing this shit, you're not gonna live long enough to get your wings back." When it came down to it, she had no reason to be scared of him, and that meant she could take him. Here, anyway. So, if she was gonna deal with the issue, it had to be here and now, so he couldn't get out and spread the word. "You may have the grace of God on your side, but I reeeeaaally doubt if your Daddy were looking out for you right now, you'd even still be here."

It wasn't just that selfish kind of self-preservation that wanted to keep the angel away from Sam. In Ruby's mind, she was protecting him. Maybe not the way he would want to be protected, but she was doing what was in Sam's best interest.

She'd convinced herself of that a while ago. He didn't need to know about the heavy shit he was getting himself into. As far as he knew, Dean wasn't even back, and even if he did know it was recent enough and jarring enough that he just wasn't emotionally equipped for that kind of slap in the face. He couldn't take it, and Ruby wasn't gonna let this asshole shove it on him. The better option was keeping them apart, no matter what it took.

Edited 2011-03-12 03:37 (UTC)

It wasn't surprising, but Ruby had a distinct lack of control. She'd couldn't keep her anger in check, instead forcing it out through the mop that she'd taken hold of. Castiel didn't think much of it, especially since angels were generally trained (no, raised) to have a certain level of composure. They could be wrathful and severe, but they didn't often lose their temper except in a very calm sort of way.

He had broken that rule himself the moment he'd tracked Dean down that one night, but he had stopped acting like a typical angel quite some time ago. It was something he was slowly coming to terms with, but seeing such erratic behavior in the demon did grate slightly. Extreme emotions were interesting in humans; they were merely aggravating in demons.

And more than that, Ruby was choosing to be childish about the situation, stopping his action with the mop. He dropped the sponge and then lifted his hand off the ground, staring impassively as the way the dirty water was now dripping from his new uniform. He looked up at her with an unreadable expression, but it was obvious that he wasn't impressed by her display.

It hadn't taken her long to resort to threats, and more than that, she decided to bring his Father into the equation. There was no way that Ruby could understand how tender of a spot that was at this point in time for him, and so he only felt his hand ball into a fist as he tried to reign himself in. The last thing he needed to do was draw more attention to himself.

"Do you truly believe you can keep Sam Winchester in the dark for forever? He will eventually put the pieces together," he replied, his tone far too cool considering how tense the conversation was. In reality, Sam had fallen for the whole thing hook, line, and sinker... and so had Castiel. He hadn't expected Heaven to be in on the whole plan, and so he'd followed out orders that he had never believed in.

But that was in the past for him, even if it was still Ruby's future. "You have no way of preventing me from speaking with him." And she was free to try and kill him, but he didn't imagine he could die by a demon's hand, even when he was this weak. Even if it turned out that Sam wasn't willing to believe him, he had to hope that Dean would be more ready to listen. Dean had never been a fan of Ruby, and he didn't see why that would change now.

He realized that at the time Dean was from he hadn't even met the demon yet, but there was no reason why his opinion of her should be any different because of that. If he could get to Dean, he could hopefully get to Sam as well.

He could still hardly believe that Ruby had surfaced in this place. He'd had enough to contend with when it came to Gabriel being here and the Winchesters not remembering him, not to mention solving the mystery of how they had all ended up here. Trying to defuse her plans and turn the Winchesters against her would just make the rest of his goals that much more difficult to achieve.

So maybe she hadn't managed to get him to rise to the bait and get pissed like she'd kinda been hoping to do without her little mop trick, but the way he dropped his sponge and clenched clenched his hand into a fist was good enough of a response for her. Years of this crap had taught Ruby how to read that kinda body language, and even on an angel, she knew what it meant.

There was a sense of pride in that -- sure, most of the time she'd be falling over herself to keep from pissing the thing off and stay as far away as possible, but he couldn't do shit to her here and she wasn't gonna forget that. So, instead, she just got to feel pleased with herself for sticking one to the 'good guys.' For getting under his skin. It was like playing the same mind games she always did, but on hard mode. Or what should have been hard mode.

Unfortunately, he was just as good at getting a rise out of her as she was at getting that response from him. Her expression contorted into something furious. She was usually much better at putting a panel between her real emotions and what she needed to act like for the greater good, but rage had a way of working its way through and it was even harder to restrain than usual with this guy around.

As much as she'd like to, she couldn't hide that he was grating her nerves and that everything spewing from his mouth was cornering her like an animal. Everything she'd ever had anxiety about happening and he was pretending it was the fucking signed and delivered future. Threatening her with the truth.

Dropping the mop aside, she abandoned any attempt at niceties. Instead, she grabbed the front of his uniform shirt and hoisted him up to his feet, holding it tightly enough to make the button up constrain around his neck a little uncomfortably. It was difficult due to the size difference -- everything made a girl seem less intimidating when she was possessing a 5'4" brunette who weighed a buck and some change -- but she managed to get in his face, seething. The mop clattered noisily to the wet floor.

"Yeah, 'cause you understand everything. It really shows. Maybe you oughtta look into just keepin' your mouth shut; I can do a lot more than you think. Like it or not, angel boy, we're on equal footing here. I wonder how happy Hell would be to welcome me back if I came home with an angel's head on a stick?"

Alighieri and Collins had already been warned once. Instead of listening, they had chosen to escalate from arguing to physical threats. If that sort of thing had been discouraged under Landel's regime, it was completely unacceptable under Aguilar's. A soldier was on the situation near-immediately, female but just as tall and well-built as most of the males.

Few words were given. There was no use bothering in a situation like this. The most the patients got before the soldier reached for Alighieri's arm and went in to restrain it behind her back was, "Stand down, both of you. Now." If the shorter woman resisted, she was prepared to twist the arm further and hold her down on the nearest table until she calmed down.

[Eryn]

While it was impossible for Castiel to determine what exactly he'd said that had pushed Ruby over the end, he had accomplished it in one way or another. That was both good and bad. If either of the Winchesters happened to take note, it would be clear who of the two of them was less trustworthy. While neither Sam nor Dean were all that opposed to violence, manhandling someone in the middle of a room packed with soldiers also counted as an act of stupidity. The demon should have known better.

It had surprised him that she had managed to lift him to his feet -- did she still have some demonic strength? -- but lift him she did, bunching up his collar and causing his boots to squeak against the floor. He glared at her, but his arms remained at his sides. If he retaliated it would definitely look bad for him.

He didn't have to wait long, however. A soldier was there within seconds, and when Castiel had that safety net he took the opportunity to try to push Ruby's hands off of him. It wasn't in a violent way, only firm -- and with help from the soldier, he was able to free himself of her grip.

While he could have argued for his case, he believed that the actions would speak for themselves. For that reason, Castiel didn't say a word. He merely stood there, one eye on Ruby and the other on the one who'd interrupted. Would the demon be punished for this? He doubted a denizen of Hell, full of unwarranted pride, would react very well to being put into place by a human.

Granted, it wasn't much good for his dignity either, but Castiel had already shed a lot of that when he'd divested himself from Heaven.

Great. Some human bitch thought she could get in between this? Talk about a glorified sense of self importance. Then again, what human didn't have one? As her arm twisted painfully -- now there was a sensation she didn't feel often -- behind her back, Ruby grimaced, still practically spitting with fury. She tried to step forward threateningly to get at Castiel, but the movement just strained her shoulder and she hissed through gritted teeth, turning to look over her shoulder at the offending soldier.

"You wanna get off me? 'Cause I'm not gonna say no to breakin' something on you while I'm at it." It was a stupid move, but the blood was pumping so hard through her veins that it was hard to think straight past her own frustrations. Her temper had a habit of getting the better of her, especially when it came to the Winchesters, and this was a good example of if t getting her in deep when she should have been putting her mission first.

The threat was going to continue but it died in her throat and she just scoffed out a quiet 'tch' noise, turning her face back away from the soldier begrudgingly. This was humiliating. She could have wiped the floor with this chick if they'd been anywhere else.

"He's the one who started it."

Who "started it" in terms of the argument was irrelevant. From any perspective, including that of the soldier, Alighieri had been the one to resort to physicality. They had both been out of line by focusing more on their inane bickering rather than the task at hand, but at least Collins seemed to get the idea that it wasn't worth more serious consequences than a warning to make sure he "won". For that reason, it was only Alighieri who was going to end up in real trouble here (though, the soldier did shoot Collins a look that told him that he would follow his orders no matter what if he knew what was good for him). If the physical threat hadn't been enough, directly insulting a member of Aguilar's forces clinched it.

When the woman finally had the sense to calm down, the soldier released her arm. "You're on report," she informed Alighieri coolly, again keeping her words to the minimum necessary as she informed her what that punishment entailed - no food next meal shift, no sitting down for the rest of the day. The matter of revoked possessions would come up in the evening, and so she held back on that point for now. No need to explain every trivial little thing to the grunts.

She waited for a moment, just in case the woman decided to try something idiotic again.

While he had had to endure a demon's attempt to bully him in order to experience this, Castiel had to admit that it was satisfying to watch Ruby be disciplined by a human soldier. If she had any of her power left in her, it clearly wasn't enough to manifest now. That seemed to be a common factor for all patients during the day, however. It was at night that he would need to watch himself.

These soldiers were more serious with punishments than the nurses, however. While the officer hadn't taken out a needle to sedate Ruby, she nonetheless gave her a full report of what she would have to do for the rest of the day. Or rather, of what she couldn't do. It wasn't all that severe from an angel's perspective; Castiel had endured punishments far worse while serving Heaven. Despite that, he got the feeling that it would bother Ruby. She'd been behaving rather childishly since she'd lost her temper, after all.

In this situation, he knew that the best thing to do was keep quiet. He caught the look from the soldier and understood its meaning completely. If anything, his posture stiffened in response. He wasn't a mindless soldier anymore, but he could still play the part if it kept him out of trouble. There was no reason to get on the bad side of the military here. If anything, that would make his job harder, and it was already hard enough.

The soldier's idea of punishment was laughable at best. Considering what she'd had done to her in the Pit just a couple months ago, this was like a visit to Candyland. The idea that the soldiers thought they had any authority, though, was what really got under her skin. If she were at the top of her game …

But she wasn't. So, she had to play by their rules. It wasn't like missing out on another meal would be hard, exactly. It had been so long since Ruby had needed to eat, getting put on a set schedule of three squares in and of itself was weird enough. Going off of it was gonna be cake. Even if it meant a lack thereof. Standing room only would be a pain when lunch rolled around, but hey. Most days, she liked it better that way anyway.

Finally, she'd cooled off enough to let those things reassure her that she didn't need to fight back out of sheer spite and to just accept her punishment while it was still the kind of crap she could handle without too much annoyance. Worse than the uppity soldier and the weak-handed idea of punishment, though, was the angel getting out of it. But she kept the frustration to a tight-lipped look on her face, accompanied by a glare at him.

"Yeah," she informed the soldier nonchalantly, eyes fixed threateningly on Castiel the entire time she spoke. "I get the message."

One more icy look to the both of them. The soldier had caught the way Alighieri glared at Collins; if there was any more trouble between the two of them today, they were both going to get their butts handed to them on rusty metal platters.

"Good," she responded curtly, turning and leaving them both to stew.

It seemed that Ruby was capable of knowing when to quit, since she finally relented and told the soldier that she understood what she would be required to do to serve out her punishment. For some reason the soldier was comfortable enough with that that she walked off with only a word in reply, which seemed unwise. They could be back at each other's throats in seconds, though the soldier likely figured that they wouldn't risk such a thing.

Which was the truth. In fact, all Castiel did was send Ruby one of his best glares, though he was quickly interrupted by the sound of someone stalking through the middle of the room and yelling about where they would be headed next.

That was for the best. While his business with Ruby was far from done, it would have to be continued later. He'd scared her and set her off, so that was enough for now. His focus needed to be the Winchesters at this point. So he eyed her one last time and then silently walked away in the direction of the courtyard.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Day 55: Cafeteria

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