Robin Singer

While You Were Out

*My First Chapter hit 100 views. To Celebrate, a bonus post. That said this is more of the story of how Crowley and his minion got their hands on Robin. Proceed with caution*

*Trigger Warning. Torture*

"What do we need kid?"

"Uh milk, eggs. I dunno, like bread, stuff for sandwiches, cereal" Kevin replied?

"Keepin it simple" she nodded, "Good call. I need coffee."

"If we're splitting the guard I do too" he told her.

"You drink coffee" she asked him?

"I was in advanced placement" he told her. "That requires some late nights."

"Alright coffee" she nodded jotting down the items on a list. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."

Robin snuck out of the church, careful not to break any warding or salt lines they'd installed. This was the longest they'd been able to stay undetected. In an attempt to keep them off her scent, she would teleport to run errands, and she would always go to Sioux Falls. She figured her choosing this location wouldn't arise suspicion considering it was her hometown. Not to mention it gave her opportunity to drop in on Jody. She had just finished grocery shopping when she ran into Joel, the local cop she grew up with who had given her a REAL hard time a few years back. He eased up on her after Dean's threatening his life, but the way he was looking at her now...

"Singer" he sneered.

"McTavish" she replied pursing her lips.

"Not quite" He glared at her grabbing her arm. His eyes turned black. "Whore" he added.

She felt something hit the back of her head before she blacked out.

When she started to wake up, she was cold, freezing actually. The room was bright, so bright it was off-putting. Sterile white, blinding her as she attempted to pry her eyes open.

"Good you're awake."

She knew that voice. She forced her eyes open and looked not five feet away from her. "Crowley" she growled.

"Good morning sunshine" he smiled at her. "Must say, that is a charming birthmark you have on your hip."

It was this moment she realized she was naked and strapped down to a table. She suddenly recognized the table, she'd been strapped to it before, it belonged to Alastair. "What the hell do you want Crowley" she snapped at him?

"Well with you in this state I can think of a great many things" he told her. "But specifically, Kevin Tran."

"That kid" she lied? "I thought you had him."

"Come come Miss Singer" Crowley sighed. "We both know you're smarter than that. Not only did Kevin escape my clutches, but he was reaching out to you and one oversized Winchester. Tell me, how is Moose?"

"Couldn't tell you" She spat.

"Finally," Crowley nodded. "A bit of honesty." He turned his attentions to the table beside her containing different tools, no doubt to inflict pain. He picked up a small scalpel and examined it. "See, I know you and Sam have parted your separate ways. Seems Dean may have just been the glue holding the trio together. But I also know you have been hiding my prophet."

"That so" she asked?

"That's right" Crowley nodded. "And you're going to tell me where he is."

"You think so huh" Robin glared at him.

"Well perhaps not me" Crowley shrugged. "See I've got a lot on my plate darling. But since I do hold you in rather high regard, I brought in a professional."

As if on cue the door to the room opened and a man of average build with blonde hair walked in.

"The greatest artist that hell has ever seen in the ways of torture was of course the late, great Alastair" Crowley explained to you. "Of course, Moose took care of him a while back. But Alastair had students who trained under his influence."

"I've heard" Robin snapped.

"Yes well" Crowley huffed. "The student he always held in the highest regard was your dearly departed beau."

"Dean's not dead" she told him.

"Perhaps" Crowley nodded, "But he's also not coming to save you. May I introduce another of Alastair's top students? Belphegor."

"My king" Belphegor nodded.

"What's the matter Crowley" Robin taunted. "Don't have the stones to take me out yourself?"

"I have a lot on my plate right now love" he told her as he turned to the door. "I assure you; I would love to be the one to make you bend to my will. But being King comes with it's own set of responsibilities."

With that Crowley walked out the door and it slammed behind them. Robin looked at Belphegor and watched him as he looked over the table of tools, humming to himself. She didn't say anything, just watched as he shuffled around, preparing his craft. After what seemed like an eternity he spun around and clapped his hands together. "How about some music" he asked her? She said nothing. "No requests" he asked? He shrugged and reached under the table to pull out a boom box, "fair enough." He put on a CD. It was the Shirelles, Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.

She furrowed her brow glaring at him.

"Not what you would have picked" he asked? "Let me guess, something hard rock, right? Bad ass hunter, little cliché don't you think?"

She didn't respond.

"I prefer something a little more, well romantic" he grinned at her. "This is going to be a rather intimate process you and I go through. I want to be able to look back on this time with you, fondly."

"You sweet talker you" she growled.

"You have a fire in you" he grinned. "I like that. Makes me feel strong when I extinguish it. Or you dominate me. I'm into that too."

Her stomach turned at his words.

He walked over to her with nothing in his hands. Instead, he looked at the scar on her stomach and ran his fingers over it. Her body tensed and she hissed. "Just my hands love" he snickered as he examined it. "Is this where he cut you?"

"He wasn't the original" she told him through grit teeth, knowing he was asking about Alastair. "He just extended it."

"Beautiful" he sighed. "I idolized him. He was incredible."

"I guess" she shrugged.

He slapped her across the face. "You will not disrespect him" Belphegor hissed. "He was a legend. You were blessed to see his work, experience it. You even had a little girlfriend, didn't you? He killed her? Imagine the way she screamed at his hands."

Robin bit her tongue. She hadn't thought of Sophie in a long time, and yet she still wanted to rip him apart at the mention of her name. But she wouldn't give him that, not a god damn chance.

"No" he sneered? "Nothing? Now you know whose screams I don't have to imagine? Dean Winchester. I was there. I helped. I watched him scream, beg, cry like a sniveling child."

She fought harder this time. She was shaking with rage but refused to give this son of a bitch what he wanted.

"You know" Belphegor grinned at her. "I put your face on more than one of his victims. More than one of the women who laid below his blade screaming, begging."

"Yeah, how'd that go" she asked?

"I know" Belphegor nodded, smiling he'd gotten her to react. He turned back to the table. "He would refuse. Every time he saw those golden-brown doe eyes of yours, he would go back on the rack and take his punishment."

She returned to her previous stance of silence. She swallowed and clenched her jaw, preparing herself. She knew there was no one coming to save her. They had her, and it was her turn to pay with a pound of flesh.

"Y'know" he told her, walking over with a knife. "Dean lasted thirty years before we broke him. I wonder how long you'll last."