Genre: General, Angst
Series: Supernatural
Rating: T
Word Count: 576
Warnings: hell, hallucinations, mentions of sensory deprivation, mild sexual undertones
Note: Also uploaded on AO3. Description lyrics from Ben & Alfie's '27 Years'.
Castiel's hand eased through the bars of the Cage, searching for Sam with an unknown fervency. His hands rested upon Sam's shoulders and he was being adjusted, pulled towards the bars before he was able to completely comprehend it.
Sam could not see the angel; not in his entirety. His shape was a detailed shadow, and there was merely a luminescent outline of his wings. Even the near-impenetrable darkness could not dull their brilliance.
He felt the heady pressure of Castiel's hand on his shoulders with such intensity; shimmers of his grace tingling warmly against his over-sensitized skin.
The Cage – Sam's portion of it – was so quiet, so vast, that the slightest stutter of his breathing could travel for millennia.
He was such a distance from the angles – from Adam. Their presence was like a whisper in the air, so faint he almost thought he was imagining it.
It was all Sam had to keep him company.
He knew it was Cas instantaneously, the new presence wrapping around Sam's senses, nearly overwhelming him.
It was no cruel trick of his own mind, nor a false interpretation of Lucifer.
Cas came for him.
His sigh was breathless – pleasure and relief en masse, brought to him by the silken feel of Castiel's hands. The sensation caused his breath to hitch.
He felt Castiel gently maneuver him between the iron bars of metal, a soft undertone of urgency tinging his movements. Felt the tingle of air from the force of Castiel's wings. Sam could not calm his racing heart.
"Cas."
His voice was weak – vocal cords ripped to shreds.
"It will be alright soon, Sam. You're almost out."
Sam heard the contractions, the ease of his tone. Soothing words were unfamiliar coming from Castiel's mouth; Sam let the feeling envelope him nonetheless.
Words fell from his own mouth – trickling out in broken Enochian.
Cas, Dean, not – not your fault...
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...
Forgive me – please...
Please...
He sensed Castiel's pained twinge and promptly stemmed his torrent of shameful words – his apologies, his regrets. Practically worthless. They would never suffice.
His bare feet were worked out with unperceivable delicacy. His back rested against Cas' chest, skin touching where clothing was torn. Traces of his grace thrummed against Sam's exposed skin. He shivered pleasantly.
And when Lucifer came, it was like the gravitational force of the entire universe combined into one.
His body fell through the bars, into Cas, but his soul was yanked back into the Cage.
Hellfire so hot it burned cold.
Castiel could no longer hear his screams.
His soul, where his body would have burned and crumbled, wavered; pierced by the remains of Lucifer's own grace. His growing wrath. His wings, razor-sharp, tore at the edges of Sam's consciousness.
They were nothing at all like Castiel's.
Darkness, cold, pain.
Eternity.
As Sam awoke, he trembled. The usual rumbling lull of the Impala pulsed against him, incomparable to the harsh splintering of Lucifer's shredded grace.
His fingers tightened rhythmically, sweat sticking to his chest.
"You okay, Sammy?"
He could feel Lucifer's cool breath against his neck.
"Yeah, Dean – fine. I'm fine."