Chapter One :
The iron door to Bobby's panic room shut and locked with a loud clang. On the inside, surrounded by protective seals, sigils, and glyphs is Sam Winchester, long hair and clothes pasted to his body by sweat. He rushes forward and pounds on the door.
"Dammit Dean! Open this door!" he shouts. He tries the handle on the inside, the salt infused with the iron tingles under his skin, but the door doesn't budge.
Bobby looks through the eye-slit. " This is for your own good boy. We warned you about this," and without another word, he turns and walks away.
Sam takes his turn with the eye-slit, and sees both his brother Dean, and Bobby walking away. A few more pounds on the door echo in the iron panic room.
Inside the house, Dean and Bobby stand in the kitchen, each sipping on a beer. Dean has his head down, swirling the liquid in the bottle.
"Dean," Bobby starts quietly.
Dean doesn't even raise his head.
"You know we had to," Bobby continues.
"Bobby," Dean responds without raising his head. "Don't."
Bobby nods his head, and continues drinking. He takes some time to look around the room. Wallpaper peels away from age and has taken on a yellowed color were is hasn't rotted away. The air stings your nose and smells like putrid earth. Its clearly old air. Sad, tired air. He breathes it in deep, filling his lungs. He likes the smell.
"I was just hoping it wouldn't come to this," Dean says, punctuating his sentence with a long, deep pull from the bottle.
"I know," Bobby sighs in response.
"Its just…" Dean starts, but Bobby cuts him off
"You don't have to say anything."
Dean silently thanks Bobby, cause he doesn't have any idea how to even start, let alone what to say. For a time, the two just stand, the only sound is the beer swishing its way around the glass bottles and down their throats.
An itch comes into Dean's head, pulling his eyes away from Bobby, and outside the window behind him, where Castiel stands, glaring. Dean all but throws his beer as Bobby turns to look for himself.
"God dammit," exclaims Dean. He blinks, and suddenly Castiel is in the room followed by the sound of fluttering wings, his trench-coat still settling from the sudden movement.
"Hello Dean," Castiel starts.
"Cass, What are you doing here?" Dean responds, slamming his beer onto the table.
"We need to talk."
"I figured, why else would you show up? Not to help I would bet." Dean almost shouts.
Bobby jumps in, "Dean."
"No!" Dean turns on Bobby. "Don't even start. I just had to lock my brother away because he drinks demon blood." Dean turns back to Castiel, "And you are possibly the last person I want to see right now because you got us into this mess." Dean jabs his finger into Castiel's chest.
"I needed help, and you were the only ones who could help." Castiel growls in return. "Do you even think that if you had not have see it, Sam wouldn't be drinking demon blood?" Castiel continues, cutting Dean off.
Dean turns slowly and stomps towards the kitchen window. A sigh comes over him and Bobby, who hasn't taken his eyes off the angel.
Castiel doesn't move from his spot, but continues talking. "What if I told you there was a way to end all of this?"
Dean slowly turns, glaring daggers into the angel's eyes. "A way to end what?"
"All of this. The apocalypse, Sam's sickness, all the death and loss you have seen. If I told you there was a way to end it, would you believe me?" Castiel tilts his head, seeking any hint of a response.
"I would say you are full of shit."
Not the response Castiel was hoping for.
"I didn't say that it would be easy.
A long pause hangs in the air, thick like a blanket.
"Do we have a choice?" Dean asks.
"You always have a choice," Castiel answers. "I will make preparations, you two go get Sam. He is going with you."
"Cass, I don't think that 's a good idea," Dean says
Bobby interjects, "You heard the man, if we can cure Sam, we have to try it." He grabs Dean by the arm and leads him back down towards the panic room leaving Castiel to himself.
From inside, Sam watches the door to the panic room swing open, he doesn't move from the bed however, just glares out at Bobby and Dean.
"Letting me out of my cage already?" Sam growls.
Dean just sighs, and follows Bobby into the room.
Bobby starts, "Your angel friend came by for a visit, said he needed help with something."
Sam chuckles "And so you feel like its a good time to let the monster out?"
"Sam," Dean starts, but pauses, losing his voice.
Bobby continues for him, "Castiel thinks he has a way to help you with your… whatever this is."
Sam stands up straight, still glaring, fists clenched so the skin on his knuckles turns white.
"I don't need help. Why can't you two see that this is the only way we are taking down Lilith? I'm almost strong enough to beat her now."
"Sam, this thing, the demon blood, its changing you." Dean raises his voice.
"Killing him, actually," Castiel steps into the panic room. In his arms he carries a load of furs and a few journals what look like they belonged to hunters from decades ago. "Where you are going, you will need these. It is very cold."
Castiel drops the furs on the table, and hands a journal to Bobby, Dean, and Sam.
"And these?" Bobby asks.
"Information. Where you are going, they play by different rules. You should read up on them.
"And the furs?" Dean asks, holding what turns out to be a primitive hide and fur coat up to his body.
"Like I said, it is very cold. Take nothing from this place with you, it will only slow you down.
"Not even boxers?" Dean retorts.
Castiel simply returns his words with a cocked eyebrow that says enough.
It takes the three only a few minutes to prepare, putting on the stinking hides and furs, journals stowed away safely in pouches. During this time, Castiel has draw a weird symbol, not unlike an upside down U with a dot in the middle on the ground. The ink is red, but doesn't appear to be blood.
"You aren't coming with us Cass?" Dean asks, hopefully.
" Where you are going is protected by powerful magic. I cannot go there. Its dangerous for me to even send you three, but if I were to go, I would die."
The hunters exchange worried glances with one another.
"Don't worry. You won't suffer that same fate," Castiel tries to reassure them.
"Any tips?" Sam asks.
"Unfortunately, no. You will be going in blind. If there were another way, I would take it, but there isn't."
With that, the angel begins a chant in a language so strange, it makes the hunters fear and listen in awe. Its musical, guttural, brutish, and beautiful all at the same time. The symbol on the floor glows a bright red, and the hunters drop to the ground…
… But when they hit the floor, they are surprised to find themselves in a pile of snow under a large evergreen tree.