Epilogue
It was a harder journey than he expected. Most of his energy had drained, but he knew the trip was only half over. Still though, he travelled deeper and deeper into the endless pit of tortured souls. It was so dark. All that could be heard was the gnashing of teeth and the sound of smoldering cinders. The occasion scream rang out, but most victims were beyond a point of shrieks. The pain they felt was a new sort of pain. One they never have held before… And it never ended.
Castiel couldn't bring himself to pity these souls though. It was their own fault they were trapped here. This thought made it easier on the angel when he heard their pleads. They begged to be saved when they saw him swoop past. Their pleads were in vain though. He was on a mission and would not waste his time on the damned.
Castiel was deep in the pit when he caught the first glimpse of his goal. He was stand on a rocky platform, a thin blade clenched it hand. In front of his, a young man hung on a post, strung up by hooks that dug through his shoulder and hip. He too, was begging. Sobbing. Pleading for mercy. Although his body was worn and beaten, the true torture had not yet begun.
Dean advanced toward his thin, pale victim, raising his single razor. The first cut was made on his stomach, dragging it across so blood spurted from the incision and the man howl. That wouldn't do. The torturer moved back up to the man's throat and with a perfectly steady hand, raked the blade across his throat. No more screams, just croaks and gags. That job done, Dean moved back to the stomach, running the blade across the soft, vulnerable skin.
The warrior dove down rapidly. This is him. The righteous man – the broken man – who he had to save. The tortures he brought onto these damned souls were unthinkable.
Castiel advanced on the torturer with beating wings. Dean whipped around at the sound, coal-black eyes growing incredibly wide in shock. He looked as though he were going to dive out of the way, but the angel was much quicker than he was. His true hand connected with Dean's shoulder.
Dean uttered a shriek of pain as the angel's hand burnt into his arm. He writhed wildly, trying to free himself unsuccessfully. Castiel lifted the soul from his platform. He was finding it difficult to fly straight with the man's screams and violent jerks.
The angel was exhausted when finally reaching the surface, only managing to glance down at the being in his grasp. Those coal eyes stared back up at them with such hatred. This was truly the broken man. Now, Castiel could feel nothing but sympathy towards him.
Castiel brought the writhing man back to his grave, carefully putting him back together, healing all the harm that had happened to him in hell. He gently place his hand on Dean's head, putting him to rest and laying him back in his coffin so he could rest for a few hours before he woke.
The angel stared down at Dean, breathing deeply. He would return to his human soon so he could continue with his work, but for now, the human would take his well-deserved rest.