title inspired by "Saturn" from sleeping at last-seriously guys, check that song out. (might serve as some spoilers as to what's to come)
XxX
One moment, they're sitting around Bobby's cluttered table, chewing through a tense and uneasy meal. Sam blinks and suddenly the three of them are sprawled out on their asses on some cold, damp marble floor in a room that's barely lit save for the sparking flash of bulbs from the ceiling. They scramble to their feet, look around, taking in their new surroundings with the caution only hunters know.
"What the—" Dean starts to say. He snaps silent as though his voice has been stolen from him—and when the lightbulbs blink their last flash and stay all the way on, Sam can see why.
The room they've been dumped in looks like an abandoned bathroom, complete with tastelessly tiled walls and rusted showerheads. The only things that marks it different from a typical bathroom are the lack of a door and the smears of blood around the room—well, those and the pair of non-humans facing off in the corner.
Sam should be surprised to see Castiel and Crowley standing there, but in light of everything that's been happening since he was resouled he finds it a bit difficult to even be surprised about anything anymore. Castiel stands closest to the three humans, looking furious with his blade clenched in one fist. Sam can't remember seeing the angel look this frighteningly dangerous in years—even when he'd been making his earlier threats toward the Winchesters to dissuade them from disagreeing with him, he hadn't looked so deadly.
Crowley is steadfastly ignoring the poisonous glare directed at him from his partner (and, yes, it's still so weird to think of them like that) with one hand outstretched toward Dean. The sight confirms what Sam had guessed, that his brother was silenced by another force. With the lights on, he can see Dean's throat flushed red and straining with the effort to speak up. He wants to offer his brother a comforting word, but he doesn't want Crowley to take his voice as well. He wants to question why they're there, why there's no door, why there's so much fucking blood everywhere—but Castiel sends him a warning look and he understands, though not without a bit of disbelief, that the angel is trying to protect him.
Crowley's eyes shift between the brothers, lingering on Dean and ignoring Bobby completely. He smirks. "Care to repeat what you just told me, darling?" Dean makes a sound like a growl and Crowley rolls his eyes. With a flick of his outstretched hand, Dean flies backward and hits the wall behind them with a hollow thud, slides to the ground. "Not you, Squirrel," the demon chuckles. "I do believe our double agent has something… interesting to share with the class." He blows a kiss toward Castiel, who snarls at the words, and watches as Sam darts to his brother's side with a nasty smirk. Dean's hair is darkened with blood, though whether it comes from a wound caused by the collision or from the wall, Sam can't tell. When he glances back at the other two, Castiel meets his eyes with something like panic in his own.
"I'm done working with you," he says tightly. The angel blade shifts in his hand as Castiel tightens and loosens his grip. "I won't open Purgatory—I won't. Not for you, not for the souls. Not for anything."
Sam notes that he looks directly at Dean as he says it, with no small amount of desperation.
"Ah, that's right. And nothing I say can convince you otherwise? No… threat?" the demon's hand twists and Dean jerks where he lays, and his mouth opens wide in a soundless scream. Sam grips his shoulder and casts worried eyes toward Bobby, who's moved to Dean's other side and is now holding him down, and then to the angel. Fury is radiating from their former friend like electricity. He looks like he wants to tear Crowley apart with his bare hands, and Sam spares a moment to be pleased that the angel that had betrayed them still cares enough for them to get so angry on their behalf. Well—Dean's behalf. Sam's brain might have more holes than Swiss cheese but he knows well enough that if it had been him doubled over in pain on the cold floor, Castiel wouldn't be half as pissed.
In the blink of an eye, or perhaps even faster than that, Castiel flashes forward. His blade pushes into the meat of Crowley's throat and the bursting of light bulbs above only serves to accentuate his voice when he speaks, loud and booming, sounding like thunder echoing around in the bathroom.
"No more threats," he hisses darkly, stormy eyes promising violence, and Sam is reminded of a long ago angel-of-the-lord who was making his own threats to throw Dean back in Hell like he was nothing more than trash to be discarded. It's truly amazing how much the angel has changed. "Release him, now, or I will destroy you. And that is a promise."
Crowley doesn't look swayed by Castiel's words. If anything, he looks smug. Sam feels something cold trickle down his spine, like fear. "I don't know, Angel-Face. I still need to get into Purgatory. And if I can't convince you to find and open it on your own to get the souls…"
Seemingly all at once, everybody else realizes the king of Hell's plan. Sam and Bobby try and throw themselves across Dean; Castiel makes to drive the angel blade deep into the demon's chest, but Crowley snaps his fingers and Dean is gone before any of them can actually make a move.
"…then perhaps you will do it to get him."
