"You are well and truly alone."
And with those final words, Crowley was gone, along with his demons and Kevin. Sam was left alone in the cruelly silent room.
He should've been angry. He should've been screaming and shouting and tearing down the walls over what had just transpired. Couldn't the universe ever let them catch a break? But he didn't. Instead he looked around the room, unable to believe what he had just heard.
Dean was gone. So was Castiel, and Crowley was right. The thought was so overwhelming that he felt tears welling up in his eyes. He was alone.
He needed to get out of here.
Stumbling over his own feet several times, Sam fled the SucroCorp labs. He stopped for a moment outside the door, remembering his promise to Kevin to destroy the labs. People would be in danger if he didn't.
Blinking to keep the tears at bay, Sam went inside again and started rummaging through the shelves for something – anything – flammable enough to do significant damage. He found several containers of cleaning solution with warning labels of fires on them, and it wasn't long before he had doused the room and all the shelves in various liquids.
He knew that it would not explode, but it was effective enough.
Walking to the door again and looking back, he tried in vain to gather his thoughts beyond Dean is gone and have to light it as he rummaged through his pockets for his lighter. He flicked it on and tossed it into the middle of the room. The effect was instantaneous.
As though he had just set fire to a puddle of gasoline, the liquids on the ground sprung up into flames and Sam had to hurry out of the room as the fire quickly spread, swallowing up everything Dick and the other Leviathan had ever worked for. It was a small victory, considering.
Sam was running now; running as fast as he could in order to get out of the building before a Leviathan spotted him or the fire spread too far. Behind him, Leviathan disguised as people were all looking out through their doors, feeling the loss of their leader and rapidly falling into panic at the revelation that they were now without purpose. Some were screaming in despair, others mumbling in confusion. Sam jumped over a security guard who had actually sunk to the ground, clutching at his head and yelling. Sam didn't notice any of it.
The Impala was still parked in the frame of what had once been the SucroCorp logo sign. It was relatively unharmed, save for a few scratches here and there from the crash. Meg was nowhere to be seen.
Sam knew that she would have gotten out and that he didn't have time to look for her if she hadn't, so he quickly folded himself into the front seat, glad that she had been considerate enough to leave the keys still in. The motor revved to life and Sam backed out of the SucroCorp front yard as fast as Meg had driven in.
It wasn't until he had gotten out on the road that the urge to cry became too strong.
Purgatory.
He was in Purgatory.
Well now he had certainly been everywhere.
Dean flinched as he heard the rustle of bushes and scanned the area for any immediate threat. This was where monsters went to die, and damn him if there weren't at least a few billions there by now, the place having been around since the dawn of time.
He didn't know what he had expected when he realized that he was going to be stuck in Purgatory. The visions he still sometimes had of Hell gave him an incentive to not want to go anywhere other than Earth ever again, but he had not expected a forest. Trees stood tall and unflinching above him, showing off strength he knew he didn't have at this point. The leaves were green and the earth brown, but there was something bleak about the colors. Nothing looked real enough that he could imagine being back on Earth.
Nothing more moved. That fact was of no comfort to him.
Dean looked back at the spot where his angel friend had been standing a moment before. "Cas?"
No one answered.
"Cas!" He risked raising his voice. "You son of a bitch! Don't you dare leave me here!"
Several more seconds passed without an answer, and Dean flinched again as something growled behind him. It was a low sound, probably from something small but no doubt just as lethal as everything else down here. Dean reached into his jacket and fingered a machete stuffed into his breast pocket. He had a small silver knife in his boot as well. Somehow he doubted any of them would be able to save him but there was no use in rolling over and taking it. Besides, what would happen if he died down here?
He waited a few tense moments, listening for anything that might attack. His whole body was tense with anticipation and fear.
"Dean?"
He sprung like Jack in the Box, quickly turning around and slashing at whatever was behind him. There was a wet squelch at the metal pierced skin but he didn't feel any clawed retaliation.
Instead Castiel eyed him as if he was a child whose toy Dean had just taken away.
"Dean, what are you doing?" He asked calmly, as if there wasn't a metal blade lodged in his heart. Dean, high on adrenaline and too shocked to let go of the machete, simply stood there with one hand on Cas' shoulder as he tried to process the situation. Cas waited patiently and watched in fascination as blood dripped from the wound and Dean leaned his head down to take a few deep breaths.
Satisfied that his heart was still working, he let go of the blade and left it there as he straightened up. He pinned Cas with a look of annoyance that Sammy would have been proud of..
"Where the hell have you been? You scared the crap out of me!"
"Sorry Dean." And now Cas looked apologetic and there was something so wrong with this picture. Cas reached up to slowly pull out the blade and the wound healed up as quickly as nothing, leaving only a faint scar that Dean knew would disappear within the next minute or so. "I was scouting the area."
There was an awkward moment of silence and Dean had actually forgotten after so long that he always had to ask. "And?"
"It is teeming with creatures." Cas didn't seem as disturbed by the news as Dean certainly was. Dean considered this for a moment.
"So why aren't they attacking?" It would seem the most logical thing to do, right? But Castiel shook his head.
"They sense my angel mojo nearby." He smiled drunkenly, which in his case (even when crazy) only translated to a small quirk of the lips. "They're too afraid to attack now. Will probably try by night when they assume I'll be asleep."
Dean looked around the dark forest and took in its shady nooks and the black sky above. "And what exactly is counted as 'night' around here?"
"Don't know." Castiel said lightly. "I guess we get to make our own." He seemed delighted at the concept of 'making up his own nighttime' and started rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, one hand in his pocket while the other one swung the machete lazily. Dean tried not to roll his eyes as he looked around once more for any signs of danger, "angel mojo" aside.
"Okay." He said, finding nothing and turning back to Cas. "So how do we get out?"
Cas stopped moving and regarded Dean as if he was the one that had gone crazy. "We don't. At best we get torn to shreds quickly."
Dean ignored that disturbing little tidbit. "There has to be something. Did you see anything suspicious when scouting? Like, I don't know, a great big hole in the sky or something?" Because hey, anything was possible, right?
Castiel shook his head. Dean rubbed at his eyes and took the machete from Cas, stuffing the bloodied thing back into his coat pocket. He angled himself in a random direction and took a few steps forward.
"Are you coming along or what?" He called over his shoulder and Castiel floundered for a bit before quickly jogging up behind him.
"Dean, what good is this supposed to do?" He asked, sounding very much like a parent trying to reason with their child's odd logic.
"We are getting out of here Cas." Dean replied. "And if we don't, I'm at least not staying here and waiting to die." He paused. "Again."
They'd had a plan for what to do when they got into SucroCorp. It was a collection of ifs, buts and maybes all relating to whether or not they found Dick and managed to kill him. The problem was that all that planning had only gone so far as the actual death. The victory over the Leviathan was so prioritized and unsure that the moment the theory ended was with winning or losing.
Now Sam didn't know what to do.
Right now Sam was on autopilot, his thoughts only on memories that were flashing through his head as he drove to the nearest motel and absentmindedly paid for a room. Memories of Ellen and Jo and Ash and Pamela and Dad and Bobby and Dean and Cas and even Jessica for a moment. All of them were dead because they had met (or were) the Winchesters and now he was the only one left.
He didn't say anything and only handed the clerk woman a credit card when she asked. She awkwardly completed the booking and deposited a key into his hand before he left the lobby. He walked with slow and sluggish steps to the room but didn't make it in. Instead he slammed against the wall as the grief became too much, and sunk to the floor in fetal position, hands and face resting on his knees as he cried and sobbed and mourned the fact that he was alone for the first time in years.
It was several hours before he could get up and collapse onto the motel bed.
"This isn't serving any purpose Dean." Castiel was actually pouting and it made Dean want to turn around and chew his crazy friend out like a disobedient child. He restrained himself.
"We're getting out Cas." He repeated once more, and added silently to himself.
We're finding Sam.
Cas continued to pout but didn't comment any further, and the following silence was broken only by the crunching of leaves beneath their shoes and the subtle but scary titters and growls that came from everywhere and nowhere in Purgatory.
The moon above their heads soon turned a crimson red.
Edit: Omigosh, finally found the linebreaks! Thank God!