As Iris left the basement without answering his question, Cas sighed to himself and resumed eating the bread she had left for him. It was probably for the best that he didn’t know the answer anyway. He didn’t know why he’d even bothered to ask. Maybe he was just a glutton for punishment, because he already knew she didn’t actually care about him. She was just playing an angle like she had been in the capital, and he was letting her get away with it. He had to stop asking her about her motives when all he was going to get were more lies as she tried to coax him to let down his guard around her.

When she returned, he tried to hold fast to his resolution by not speaking to her, but his eyes still wandered compulsively to the glasses of water in her hands. He’d only expected her to bring one, so the second cup came as a surprise. As soon as she reached inside his cell to set them down, he shifted closer to grab one and then paused. The sleeve of her shirt had pulled away from her wrist, revealing a dark bruise that looked like it had formed recently. He wondered where it had come from. [color=#b97703][i]Probably her father,[/i][/color] he thought with a pang of frustration. After seeing the rebel leader strike her across the face earlier, he wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that.

He picked up one of the glasses and lifted it to his lips to drink as she settled down in her chair again. To his further surprise, she belatedly answered his question. The sincerity in her voice made his resolve waver, but he hid it behind the second cup of water, having finished off the first. The cool liquid felt heavenly in his dry mouth, and it brought some psychological comfort as well, since he was no longer concerned about succumbing to the effects of severe dehydration. Now, he only had two options: He would either succeed at escaping from the rebels or he would fail and be killed in two days. At least now his chance of surviving had increased from thirty-three percent to fifty. It was better than nothing.

Draining the second glass, he set it back down with a relieved exhale and scooted back over to the wall to lean back. Pretending that his feet were still bound with the rope he’d draped over his ankles was uncomfortable, but he didn’t trust Iris enough to let her know he was halfway free from his bonds. If she was still tricking him—and he was sure she was—she could tell Regis or Ethan that he’d slipped out of the ties, and one of them would bind his legs again. If the leader found out, he’d probably rough him up too. He shuddered at the thought.

[color=#b97703]“Hindsight’s a bitch, huh?”[/color] was all he said when Iris finished speaking. He purposefully avoided looking at her, knowing he would be swayed by the pain on her face if he saw it. Instead, he drew his knees to his chest and gazed up at the window, trying to see if he could distinguish any buildings outside that might give him a clue as to where he was.