A/N: And this brings us to the end of my queue currently, but I managed to make some progress on a short multi-chapter fic yesterday, so maybe I'll get it completed in the next week or two.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Thanks to 29Pieces for beta reading!
"Tomb"
"So this is the grid the two search-and-rescue workers were covering when they went missing," Sam reported as he, Dean, and Castiel trekked through the woods. The Winchesters were wearing appropriate attire, but Cas stood out like a sore thumb in his suit and trench coat all the way out here. At least it was just them.
"And it's not far from the trail the missing group of hikers said they'd be taking," he added.
The search for them had gone on for a week before two volunteers disappeared without a trace as well. After that, people started to get spooked. Official authorities kept going for a couple more days, but eventually had to call off the search when they found zero sign of any of the missing people.
Sam figured a werewolf pack might have been behind it, for so many to vanish like that. Or it could have been a wendigo, given the remote location. Though, it was strange that no bodies had turned up. Werewolves and wendigos weren't clean in their kills.
Still, Sam thought it was worth a look. Dean wasn't sure they should risk going on a wild goose chase, given all the stuff going on with the Apocalypse, but since they had no leads on that front, he'd grudgingly agreed to check this potential case out.
Sam didn't know what Cas thought about it. The angel was basically just tagging along while he recovered from their recent time traveling episode. At least he hadn't suggested they were wasting their time.
They continued to make their way through dense thickets, until they finally came out to thinner copses surrounding the entrance to a cave. Sam took out his small flashlight and shone the beam into the opening.
"Could be a wendigo," he voiced out loud.
"Awesome," Dean muttered. "I hate those suckers."
He reached into his bag for the compact blowtorch they always carried when investigating cases in the woods, precisely because a wendigo was always a possible culprit.
The three of them ventured into the cave. All was quiet, but that wasn't an indication of anything.
Sam paused when his flashlight beam swept across what looked like petroglyphs on the cave wall. "This must have been a Native American site," he commented, studying the various pictographs with interest. He'd taken a class on this stuff at Stanford.
"So?" Dean said. "You sayin' it's an Indian wendigo?"
"Native American," Sam corrected. "And I don't know. Could be."
"It's not," Castiel interrupted.
Sam bristled at the abrupt dismissal, but before he could make a retort, Cas stepped close to the wall.
"These are powerful sigils," the angel said. "Something was sealed away here."
"Something?" Dean repeated. "Something what?"
Cas ran his hand over the petroglyphs as he followed the story they told. "The local tribes described him as an evil god."
"Pagan deity?" Dean asked.
Cas continued to trace the pictograph, Sam following with his flashlight.
"Cronus," he said after a moment. "That's the name he went by when he tried to subjugate the local tribes, but their shamans were able to seal him away in this cave instead."
"So are we thinking he broke free?" Sam asked. "I mean, it can't be coincidence with the missing people." Had the Apocalypse somehow triggered a jailbreak? It seemed like a lot of big bads were breaking free for the End Times…
Cas's hand hovered over some of the sigils. "A few of these have been defaced, perhaps by the missing hikers. But part of the seal is still in place. If Cronus is responsible for the disappearances, he likely can't go far."
Sam nodded along. "Which is why only those who've come close to here have vanished."
"Most likely."
"Awesome," Dean grumbled for the second time. He stuffed his blowtorch away. "Then we're gonna need a special weapon. Better call Bobby." He fished out his phone, the LED screen lighting up the cave. "And of course, no signal."
"Try outside," Sam said absently, attention back on the petroglyphs. Those had to be some pretty powerful shamans to seal away a pagan god. And the dude was probably pissed after what might have been at least a century.
"Cas, do you know anything about Cronus?"
"He was leader of the Titans, and one of the more psychotic of that brood. When it was foretold that one of his children would overthrow him, he ate all of his offspring right after they were born."
Sam grimaced. Charming.
"He was eventually overthrown by Zeus," Cas went on. "He was reportedly thrown into the Titans' prison, but there were rumors he'd been released to rule over a distant land. It seems the latter was true."
"But it didn't work out here, either."
Cas shook his head, gaze still on the pictographs. "No. The shamans weakened him to the point where they were able to steal his physical form, and then locked his spirit away in this cave."
Sam frowned. "So is he more like a ghost now?"
"I'm not sure."
Sam's next question was whether that would make him harder or easier to kill, but he didn't get to ask it. Cas suddenly went rigid and whirled around, just as a flash of blinding light whited out Sam's senses.
o.0.o
Sam returned to consciousness with a startled gasp, bolting upright and twisting around. He was still in the cave, but in what looked like an alcove carved into the rock, with iron bars creating a cell door across the opening. Torches out in the main chamber cast an orange hue over everything…including Cas, who was laying outside the cell on the ground, in the center of a strange symbol painted in red. Though his eyes were open and he appeared conscious, he wasn't moving.
Sam scooted toward the edge of the cage. "Cas?"
The angel flicked a consternated look his way, but didn't respond. Before Sam could ask what was happening, a blurred shape detached from the shadows, wafting through the air like fog. Sam's eyes widened when he spotted a pile of bodies in the corner behind it. The hikers. And probably the rescue volunteers too.
In the faint glow of firelight, Sam could see they were nothing more than desiccated corpses—shriveled limbs and dehydrated flesh wrapped around frozen screams.
The amorphous figure swooped down toward Cas.
"Angel," it rumbled hungrily. "Oh, devouring you will help me regain solid form more than those measly vessels of mortality."
Sam stiffened. No…
A tendril of smoke drifted down across Cas's chest, and the angel's eyes blew wide as his back arched. The symbol on the ground began to simmer, and suddenly blue light was flooding the chamber. Cas's mouth opened in a breathless scream, no sound coming from him as his body seized. Gradually, the smoke hovering over him began to take on the contours of a hand pressed against Cas's sternum. The edges glowed the same blue as angelic essence, crawling upward until the outline of a humanoid figure could be seen.
Sam grabbed the cell bars and yanked at them violently, but they didn't budge. Cas's skin was turning grey, the veins in his neck and face standing out prominently as they pulsed with life blood that seemed to be slithering out from him and into Cronus. Sam let out a raging cry as he tried one more time to break down the cell door, to no avail.
And then the tenebrous figure pulled back, and Cas went limp on the ground. Standing up, the human shaped blob made a disgruntled sound. "Your energy is weaker than I expected," he spat. "I'll have to go slow so you don't die too quickly."
And with that, he turned and melded into the shadows.
Sam pressed himself up against the bars. "Cas!" He got no reaction. "Cas, look at me."
It took a moment, but the angel eventually lolled his head a fraction to the side, eyes glazed with agony and pallor ashen.
Sam's heart clenched. "Just hang on, okay?"
He had no idea where Dean was—hopefully his brother wouldn't be caught by Cronus when he came looking for them. And hopefully Dean was on his way…because Sam didn't think Cas could survive another round of that.
He turned his attention back to his prison and ran his hands over the bars and hinges, searching for weaknesses. But though the metal was old and rusted, it held firm. Dammit!
Sam let out a harsh breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He needed to think. He had the demon-killing knife on him, but that wouldn't do him much good in here. A lighter…too bad Dean had the mini blowtorch. What could he use against an incorporeal deity?
"Cas, do you have your angel blade?" he asked.
Castiel didn't speak, didn't move. Sam's throat tightened as he realized the angel probably couldn't.
"Okay," he breathed. "Just hang in there, okay?" Sam repeated. "Dean will find us."
When the sound of footsteps down the tunnel echoed into the chamber, Sam straightened with hope. But a smoky figure wreathed in a blue silhouette entered instead. Cronus was becoming more tangible by the minute.
The deity strode straight toward Cas.
"Hey!" Sam shouted, but was ignored. Desperation clawed up his throat. "You want real power? Feed on me."
Cronus paused just as he was about to crouch down next to Cas, and lifted his faceless head. "You?" he scoffed. "Oh, I'll devour you when I'm done with the angel, but you're not nearly as filling a meal."
Sam's pulse jumped, but he held his chin up staunchly. "I'm Lucifer's true vessel. Do you have any idea how much power there is in that? More than an angel who's cut off from Heaven."
Cronus hesitated, and then canted his head in what looked like intrigue. Cas, however, was gazing at Sam in wide-eyed horror.
Sam swallowed hard, but didn't falter.
Cronus made a sound like a ravenous hum. "Well, then, let's see what you're made of."
He bent down and grabbed Cas by the front of his shirt, lifting him like he was a rag doll and tossing him across the chamber. Sam's heart lurched as the angel hit the ground and rolled to a stop, unmoving, but in the next second, Cronus was at the cell door unlocking it. A vaporous hand shot out to grab Sam by the back of the neck, and he was dragged out and thrown down onto the symbol.
As soon as his body hit the ground, his limbs instantly went numb and it felt like even the oxygen in his lungs had been jolted to a sudden stop. He couldn't speak, couldn't move. Panic surged up, his heart beating erratically against his ribs. Cronus bent over him, outlined hand reaching splayed fingers toward his chest.
And then an angel blade flew through the air, glinting orange in the torchlight. It looked as though it should have passed right through Cronus's shadowy form, yet instead struck him high in the shoulder and stuck. Cronus jerked upward with a roar, and wrenched his arm up to yank the blade out. He whirled around, revealing Cas partially propped up on his forearms. The angel looked barely able to have made that shot, yet somehow he did.
Cronus snarled and strode over. Sam's heart leaped into his throat as the pagan deity grabbed Cas by the neck and lifted him off the ground, the angel's feet dangling in the air. Cas's cheeks puffed and his eyes bulged as his face began to turn puce.
"I should stick you right here," Cronus growled, angel blade still in his other hand.
Sam wanted to scream, to yell to get Cronus's attention back on him, but his voice was paralyzed.
"Hey, ass-hat!"
Sam snapped his gaze toward the passageway where Dean was standing, wreathed in a fulvous halo cast by the torches. Brandishing a white tree branch coated in blood, Dean charged.
Cronus tossed Cas aside and pivoted to meet him. Sam watched in horror as the barely corporeal figure threw an arm up to block the strike, and the birch went straight through him.
But when the pointed end stabbed through the misty chest, Cronus suddenly let out a sharp gasp and froze, wispy hands shooting up to clutch the stake. For a moment, he and Dean stood frozen like that, and then with a scream, Cronus exploded into vapor.
Dean staggered back, gaping for a moment as the angel blade clattered to the ground. There was no sign of the pagan deity, but despite appearances, Sam was worried that hadn't really killed him.
But after another prolonged beat of nothing happening, Dean dropped the tree branch and darted toward Sam. The instant he set foot on the painted symbol, however, he crashed to one knee.
"What the hell?" he exclaimed.
Sam opened his mouth to give a warning, but no sound came out.
Dean caught on, though, and still had some range of movement as he reached back to grab Cas's angel blade from the ground. Twisting back around, he began to hack at the symbol.
As the lines broke, Sam felt sensation return to his limbs, and he was finally able to push himself up and roll out of the circle.
"You okay?" Dean asked worriedly.
Sam nodded quickly, for his concern immediately redirected to the far wall where Cas had yet to get up. He scrambled to his feet and hurried over, dropping down next to the angel and gripping his arm. "Cas?"
Cas blinked sluggishly up at him, and Sam could see even in the dim torchlight that some of his veins were still a sickly gray.
"We need to get him out of here," he said to Dean, who crouched down beside them.
His brother's eyes swept over the shriveled bodies of the missing people, then Cas. Dean's jaw visibly tightened. "Okay, yeah."
Dean passed the angel blade to Sam before reaching for Cas's arm and pulling him into a fireman's carry. Sam thought Cas would have uttered a gruff protest at being manhandled, but the angel didn't make a sound as they started making their way out of the cave.
"What did that bastard do?" Dean asked, grunting under Cas's weight.
"He was feeding off life energy, I think," Sam answered. "Trying to regain physical form."
"Shit." Dean paused and tried to crane his head back at his load. "Think he'll be okay?" he asked in a lower voice.
Sam swallowed. "I don't know."
It was a long hike back to the ranger station where they'd left the Impala when they'd first come out here, so they took turns carrying Cas. The angel had lost consciousness at some point before the first switch, and that worried Sam. But there was nothing they could do until they got back to the car and civilization. Not that Sam knew what they could do for an angel anyway. Hopefully Cas could just…sleep it off, like he'd done after the time traveling incident had left him temporarily comatose.
They eventually made it out of the park and quickly tucked Cas into the backseat of the Impala before booking it out of there. They'd have to phone in an anonymous tip about where to find the bodies later, since there was no way to explain that they'd been mummified.
At least Cronus wouldn't be able to kill any more people who came into the area.
Dean glanced over his shoulder at Cas. "Was Cronus feeding on Cas's grace?"
Sam couldn't help but look back too. "I think so." He assumed that explained the glowing contours the deity had gained after feeding on the angel.
Dean swore under his breath. "Like he needs that."
Sam remained silent, worry gnawing at his gut.
They finally made it back to their motel, and fortunately it was late enough that anyone who saw them carrying Cas inside would have assumed he'd had too much to drink too early in the afternoon.
They laid Cas on one of the beds, spawning a flashback to just recently when they'd done the same. Except this time Cas looked way worse. Against the ugly orange coverlet, the dark bruises under his eyes and pasty complexion made him look like he was already dead.
Fear surging up, Sam reached out to feel for a pulse. He let out a sharp breath of relief when he found one, though it was thready at best. Plus, Cas felt cold. Sam looked to Dean. "What do we do?"
Dean shook his head. "Hell if I know. He'll probably recover like last time…"
Even Sam could hear the half-hearted conviction in that statement.
He furrowed his brow as he studied Cas's condition and thought about the state of the human bodies after they'd been drained. "Think rehydrating fluids would help?"
Dean shrugged. "We can try… Maybe we can wake him up and ask."
Sam snorted. "He'd probably tell us he'll be fine."
Dean canted his head at that. 'Fine' for Cas included coughing up blood, so they both knew not to go on the angel's estimation of his own well-being.
"Alright, I'll make a run. You good here?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah." He reached out to place the back of his hand against Cas's cheek. "Maybe get some heating packs if you can. He's really cold."
More corpse-like behavior Sam was anxious about.
Dean's expression was grim. "Yeah, okay."
He left, and Sam pulled up one edge of the bedspread to fold over Cas, tucking him in. Then he pulled the chair from the writing desk over and sat down to wait. This was the second time in the span of a week they'd had to watch over an unconscious angel, having no idea if he'd be okay or even wake up. Last time, they'd had plenty to silently brood on after meeting their parents in the past.
This time, Sam sat by the bed, intently watching for any changes—whether good or bad—and prayerfully hoping Cas would actually be okay.
Dean eventually came back with a sack of supplies, but he pulled a bag of saline fluids from the inside of his jacket. "Makes it a little warm," he said unnecessarily.
Sam helped roll up Cas's sleeve so they could get to a vein in the crook of his elbow, and Dean inserted the needle. Sam hung the bag from the headboard so gravity could do its work.
After that, there wasn't much to do except sit back and wait. Again.
Dean called Bobby to tell him what happened and thank him for his quick work finding the birch tree and the obscure detail of needing to coat it in the blood of a firstborn. Talk about some good luck on their side.
Then he made his anonymous call to the police about where to find the bodies of the missing hikers and volunteer search-and-rescuers. When all that was done, he went to pick up some food—and probably some alcohol.
Sam was exhausted, but he didn't want to sleep yet. A week ago it wouldn't have mattered, and he would have crashed and let Cas wake up on his own. But since then, Sam had gained a deeper understanding of just how much Castiel seemed to care for him as a friend. And Sam found that he cared about the angel too.
Dean wasn't back yet when Cas finally started to peel his eyes open.
Sam straightened abruptly and leaned forward. "Cas, hey. How are you feeling?"
Cas stared back at him blankly for a moment. Then, "I'll be fine," he whispered, voice thin and reedy.
Sam huffed. Right, of course he'd say that. But Sam hoped the statement was actually true.
Cas's gaze drifted down to his arm, and his brow furrowed slightly at the IV line.
"We thought giving you fluids to rehydrate your vessel might help," Sam explained. "Is it?"
Cas regarded the IV for a prolonged moment. "I suppose…"
That was probably the closest they'd get to an admission that he was badly hurt.
Cas returned his gaze to Sam, eyes turning intense with accusation. "Why did you do that? Tell Cronus to feed on you. You could have died."
"You were dying." Sam shook his head. "I wasn't gonna just sit back and watch."
Cas let out what sounded like a frustrated breath. "You shouldn't have done that. You're too important, Sam. If anyone can find a way to stop Lucifer, it's you and Dean."
Sam found himself bristling. "And what are you?"
"A soldier."
"That doesn't make you expendable," he countered.
"For the greater good, it does." Cas fell quiet for a moment, then softer, "For you and your brother, it is worth it."
Sam shook his head fervently. "No. You are not cannon fodder. And I'm grateful that you care about us that much, Cas, I really am. But you're our friend, too. And that means we'd fight tooth and nail to save you just like you'd do for us."
Cas looked at him almost uncomprehendingly before his expression softened. "You are my friend, Sam Winchester," he said with such gravity that he seemed to mean so much more by it.
Sam put a hand on his arm. "I know I don't deserve an angel as a friend, but you're mine, too, Castiel. And it's an honor."
Cas shook his head against the pillow. "You deserve far more than Fate has dealt you. And I'm sorry for…the role…I, and Heaven, played…" His eyelids started to droop as his voice petered out into exhaustion.
Sam patted his arm. "It's okay, Cas. Just rest."
Cas struggled to keep his eyes open a little longer before he finally succumbed and fell still once more. Sam made sure the bedspread was tucked securely around his shoulders, keeping in the warmth.
At least now he felt more confident that Cas would recover in time. And with the world falling to pieces around them, Sam needed all the friends he could get.