Hold On to All Hope
Jo was dead, the boys were gone, Castiel was nowhere to be seen, and Ellen was surrounded by explosives and hellhounds. She never planned to go out this way. Yeah, she wanted to go down fighting, but that was after she became a hunter. Before, when her family had just started, she wanted to pass away in a soft bed surrounded by her children and grandchildren.
That was all an old dream now.
Hot breath puffed against the side of Ellen's face and she let out a startled gasp. With a shaking hand, she gripped the detonator in her hand tight and her face contorted into one of fierce rage.
"Come and get me, you—"
The hellhound breathing down her neck gave a broken yelp and black blood splattered across the side of Ellen's face. There was a loud rattling breath then and the sound of something heavy collapsing.
Ellen turned her head slightly to the side; daring to see what it was that had obviously just taken down the hellhound. She expected to maybe see Sam and Dean. She didn't doubt that the two heroic idiots would have been stupid enough to come running back.
What she found instead, however, was not Sam or Dean. Standing right beside her was a trench-coated angel.
Splattered with black goo at her side, stood Castiel. His eyes were focused on the hellhounds circling him and his friends and his blade was spinning skillfully through his fingers as he prepared himself for his next opponent.
"C…Castiel?" Ellen stuttered and Castiel's blue eyes skipped to her teary ones. He nodded at her once and turned away again, glaring out into the open store. In the blink of an eye, he moved.
Castiel was quick. One second he'd be on one side of the store, slitting the throat of a creature Ellen couldn't see and the next he'd be back at her side, defending her from any blows the hellhounds tried to send her way. He didn't go unscathed. Ellen could see Castiel's clothes become more and more tattered and the front of his shirt was blossoming red. Yet, Castiel kept fighting.
Ellen wanted to help. She wanted to force herself onto her feet and charge into battle with the angel she considered a good friend, but she didn't. She stayed put and out of the way. Castiel was working so hard to help her now, she couldn't risk all that by just jumping into the field of battle.
"They just keep coming," Castiel said as he appeared again by Ellen's side. "I'm sorry. I can't keep this up. We have to go."
"The detonator," Ellen told him, holding up her hand a little to show the angel. "There are explosives rigged all around us. I can take them out."
"I don't understand?"
"My Jo is dead, Castiel," Ellen croaked, looking down at the lifeless form of her little girl. "I can't keep going without her. I'll stay here. You go and help the boys."
Castiel's face pinched down into a frown and he leaned down to her level, focusing his gaze not onto Ellen but onto Jo. "I will not allow that." He pressed two fingers to Jo's head then and in a long, heart-stopping second Jo's body lurched as she sucked in a gulp of air.
"JO?!" Ellen screamed, dropping the detonator and yanking her daughter close. Jo's eyes blinked open, staring up at her and Ellen looked her over, finding that her daughter's wounds were completely gone. "C…Castiel…" Ellen whispered. She looked up at the angel still crouching beside her and Jo. "I don't…why…" She stopped and reached out a hand, squeezing Castiel's shoulder. "Thank you."
Castiel nodded and turned his head to the side, his eyes raking over the army of hellhounds that had grown closer since he turned his back onto them.
"You're right, Ellen," Castiel said suddenly. "Our only chance of taking care of them is by blowing them up. I can fly us out of here though before the explosion does any harm to any of us." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "We will survive this."
Ellen never thought she would feel hope again after watching her daughter die, but as she stared up at the trench-coated angel before her, her entire body thrummed with it.
"Okay," she told Castiel. "I trust–"
She cut herself off as something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She turned, looking into empty space a few feet from her and Jo. There was nothing but can's and boxes lying scattered along the floor, but when she looked closer, they moved.
Ellen's eyes went wide. "Castiel!"
The angel turned, but too late. A hellhound lunged into him, knocking him across the room and onto the floor. Castiel's angel blade flew from his hand and across the store, landing in a mess of tipped over cereal. The hellhound pinned Castiel down, taking advantage of Castiel's weaponless state. It growled in his face and in one terrible second Castiel's throat was ripped open.
Ellen and Jo screamed at the sight, their hearts going still as an arch of blood splattered into the air. Castiel struggled against the Hellhound, but his hands were pinned by the sharp claws of the hellhound.
"Mom, we have to do something!" Jo cried, her voice shaking.
Ellen looked away from Castiel and to the cereal boxes nearby where Castiel's blade had been buried in. "We need to get that blade," she told Jo. "Can you stand?"
Jo nodded and the two slowly got to their feet. They snuck their way to the boxes of cereal. Luckily for them, the hellhounds were all focused on Castiel. Though, that was extremely unlucky for Castiel.
"Found it!" Jo cried, yanking the blade from a pile of cornflakes. She staggered back onto her feet, handing the blade over to her mother. Ellen took it and looked to where Castiel was still pinned. He was still fighting, though his movements were slow and clumsy. A pool of blood was starting to surround him and Ellen could see a faint blue glow oozing from the worst of his wounds.
Ellen raised the angel blade into the air.
It was now or never.
She threw, shouting, "Castiel!" as soon as it left her hand.
With what strength Castiel still had, he reached up, grabbing the blade before it could fly past him. He grunted, putting his entire weight into thrusting his blade deep within the hellhound currently making a mess of his chest. The hellhound howled and black blood mixed with Castiel's. In the blink of an eye, Castiel was on his feet and retreating to where Jo and Ellen now stood. He looked around, his eyes focusing on the detonator, Ellen had left behind when she and Jo had run for the blade. He reached out a hand, summoning his grace onto it. Light and noise flared around them then and Castiel hands wrapped around Ellen's and Jo's.
When Ellen opened her eyes, she was standing by the Impala. She looked around herself, panic flaring in her chest. No Castiel and no Jo.
"Jo!" she cried. "Jo, where are you?"
"Over here!" Jo cried and Ellen rounded the Impala, finding Jo kneeling by the Impala's trunk. She wasn't alone. Sitting up against the Impala was a worse for wear Castiel.
"Shit," Ellen swore and she rushed to her daughter's and Castiel's sides.
Castiel's throat was a mess, just a mangled bunch of flesh and muscle. His chest had four deep gouges in it from the hellhounds' claws and the rest of him was just a collage of deep cuts and bruises. To make it all worse, the blue light from before was still draining from Castiel and as it soaked away into the air, Castiel's eyes seemed to glow just a little bit dimmer.
"Castiel?" Ellen called, she pressed a hand to his cheek and his eyes flickered to hers. "Castiel, can you hear me?"
He blinked at her twice and Ellen's frown deepened.
"He can't talk," Jo revealed and Ellen looked to her daughter, finding that Joe's hands her soaked in Castiel's blood. "I'm pretty sure the hellhound tore up his vocal chords. I've been having him blink to answer questions—twice for yes and once for no."
Ellen looked back at Castiel. "This really isn't good," she whispered to herself. She stroked at Castiel's cheek. "Are you able to heal yourself? Is it bad I can see your grace?"
Cas blinked twice, paused, and then another two.
"Shit, okay." She looked back at Castiel's neck. She could see the flesh knitting itself together, but it was moving at a painstakingly slow pace. A thought hit her then— a terrible, sickening thought.
"What are your chances of surviving this? Two blinks for high and one blink for low."
One blink.
Ellen stared into Castiel's eyes and he stared back. There was no fear in his blue gaze, just a sadness that Ellen couldn't bare to see any longer. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the angel's bloody forehead.
"I will not allow that," she whispered. She pulled back then, finding a faint smile on the angel's face. She patted his shoulder lightly and turned to Jo. "Jo, I need you to look for the boys' first aid kit. Castiel's healing, but not fast enough. We have to take care of some of these wounds. It might not be much, but it'll slow down the bleeding at least."
Jo moved quickly. She found the kit after her second try and dropped it down in front of her mom. They opened it up, pulling out the fishing wire and needles the boys had stashed inside along with bandages and antiseptic.
They started up, Ellen threading Castiel's skin and flesh back together while Jo cleaned what she could and pressed a strip of clothing against the wounds in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
Hours passed and by the time Ellen and Jo used up all the bandages and wire they had, the sound of feet tapping against the ground reached their ears. Jo and Ellen both stiffened at the sound. They reached into the still open trunk of the Impala and pulled out the grenade launcher that was shoved way in the back. Whatever was coming their way, they weren't taking any chances.
Two shadows appeared along the ground. Both Jo and Ellen lunged out from behind the Impala, ready to pull the trigger.
"Whoah! Whoah!" a familiar voice cried out
"Ellen? Jo? It can't—"
Ellen and Jo lowered the grenade launcher, their faces splitting into wide grins at the sight of both boys alive and mostly unharmed.
"Boy are we glad to see you two," Ellen sighed. "Yes, it's us."
"But…but how?" Sam stuttered. "Jo…"
"I'm fine," Jo revealed. "Thanks to…" her face fell and she looked to the angel by her feet hidden from the boys' sight. "Thanks to Castiel."
Dean's face fell and he glanced at where Jo was looking. Slowly he rounded the corner, Sam in tow. A gasp broke past his lips and Dean fell to his knees, landing in the red puddle that had started to form around the injured angel. His hands hovered over Castiel's neck wounds, his eyes haunted with the terror of seeing his friend so torn up and the memories of when it had been him who had been turned into a shredded slab of meat.
"What…hapenend?" Sam asked. He was leaning on the side opposite of Dean, inspecting the wounds oozing with Castiel's grace with a look of dread.
"Jo died back at the store and I…I was about to detonate the explosives when…" Ellen smiled, looking to Castiel. "Castiel showed up. He took down what he could of the hellhounds and brought back Jo, but a hellhound got him and tore him up pretty bad."
"We detonated the explosives when he got free and Cas flew us out of the explosion and back here."
"Damn it, Cas," Dean swore, his voice wavering. Castiel slowly tilted his head towards Dean, wincing slightly. With a bloody hand, he reached out, squeezing Dean's shoulder weakly. Dean looked at the hand on his shoulder and covered it with his own. "You're going to be okay, Cas. We're going to get you to Bobby's and everything will be okay."
Castiel blinked twice at Dean and the hunter frowned. He looked to Ellen and Jo and the two gave him a small smile.
"Two for yes and one for no," Jo said, repeating the same words she had spoken to Ellen hours ago.
Dean's frown grew and Ellen squeezed his shoulder. "I think he's saying okay," she told him. "He's going to be okay."
Dean smiled at her and then at Cas. He clapped his hands together, his usual energy bouncing back. "Alright, let's get our asses back to Bobby's then. Sam, help me with Cas." The two hunters rotated around their friend and carefully lifted him from the blood-soaked ground. They moved him, waiting for Jo and Ellen to get into the back before laying the beat up angel over them. With Cas safe and sound in the back of the Impala and the trunk closed up, Sam and Dean hopped in.
"Hey…" Dean flicked on the radio and pulled Baby out onto the open road. "Were you going to use the grenade launcher on us?"
Bobby was swearing up a storm when they returned with a torn up Castiel held up only by Sam and Dean. Even when they managed to patch up Cas to the best of their ability and settled in the kitchen with a couple of beers while Castiel slept, the old man kept on swearing.
"We're all fine, Bobby."
"To hell, you'll are!" Bobby shouted. He thrust a finger at Jo. "You died." He pointed a finger at Ellen. "You almost blew up. " His fingers moved to Dean and Sam. "And you two are lucky the devil didn't squash you like bugs when he had the chance." Bobby waved his hands in the air. "Not to mention that we have an angel that looks like he's been through a meat grinder in my living room. Who, by the way, we all owe a friggin thank you basket."
"Bobby—"
"Don't Bobby me. For now on no more stupid plans built on damn theories. We're planning shit out from now on understand?"
"Yeah, Bobby," Sam said for everyone. "We understand. Sorry."
"Okay then," Bobby sighed. "Now…about Cas…"
"I talked with him before he passed out," Jo said. "Or, I talked and he blinked at me. He says he'll be fine as long as he's given enough time to recharge."
Bobby nodded. "Good." He glanced at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. "Well, I'm hitting the sack. Jo, Ellen, you two can decide who gets the spare bed and who gets to sleep on the cots in the panic room with these two idiots," he said while nodding his head at Sam and Dean.
The two brothers frowned at each other and then at Bobby.
"Uh...Bobby, what about Lucifer?"
"What about him?"
"The colt!" Dean shouted, earning a glare from everyone in the room. Dean shut his mouth, eyes drifting to the doorway where he could just make out Cas' sleeping form. When the angel didn't move, he spoke again, softer this time. "It didn't work, Bobby. Lucifer's still out there and still wants to wear Sam to the prom. Don't you think we should...I don't know...talk about a plan or something."
Bobby huffed. "You idiots can if you want, but count me out. I'm going to go shut my eyes and dream about sugar plum fairies." He started towards the kitchen doorway, stopping last minute. The old hunter glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the four slowly. "It's been a hard day and the days are only going to get worse now. We failed, yeah, but we're all still here so it aint so bad. Let's just be grateful for that now and worry about the future later."
Ellen watched as Bobby disappeared from the kitchen and then looked between Jo and the boys. "He's right," she sighed. "We should let ourselves rest. Like he said, we've been through a lot."
"Yeah," Jo agreed. "And anyway, we might come up with a plan or something better if we catch a breather."
Jo's eyes flicked over Sam and Dean, waiting for their response. Surprisingly enough both boys' shoulders slumped in defeat and they nodded.
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "You're right."
Jo clapped her hands together. "Good. Now, let's go to sleep. Dean here needs his beauty sleep. He's starting to look like a gremlin."
"Excuse you?" Dean huffed. "Oh, you better run little girl."
Jo ran out of the kitchen and Dean chased after her, the two giggling like the children they were.
Ellen laughed as she watched them go, stopping when she felt a strong arm pull her into a tight one-armed hug.
"Glad you're okay," Sam said softly.
Ellen closed her eyes. "Yeah," she sighed. "Yeah, me too."
Ellen woke up early in the morning. The sun wasn't even fully up, just starting to peak up from the tree line. She hadn't woken normally. It had been a nightmare that tore her from sleep at 5:00am. Jo had been in it. She had died again, but this time, Castiel never came and Ellen was blown up with her daughter.
With a weary sigh, Ellen pushed herself out of the spare bed Bobby had lent her. She walked to the doorway of the bedroom and opened the door as silently as she could, closing it behind her.
She started down the stairs, eyes widening at who was waiting for her at the end of them.
Castiel stood at the bottom of the stairs, trenchcoat back on and spotless of blood. The bandages were all gone as well, revealing unmarked skin.
"Castiel," she whispered, a smile easing onto her face. "You're looking good for getting half-eaten."
Castiel smiled. "Yes," he said. His voice sounded hoarse. "My grace has mostly recharged and my vessel has made a full recovery."
"Well, I'm glad," Ellen said. She stepped off the last step and reached out, placing a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Thank you."
The angel tilted his head. "For what?"
"For saving Jo and me." Ellen squeezed his shoulder. "If it weren't for you…" She didn't want to think about it.
Castiel placed his own hand over Ellen's, squeezing it lightly. "Thank you for taking care of me." Ellen smiled and Cas reached for his neck with his free hand. "If you and Jo didn't toss me my blade…" He stopped, dropping his hand from his throat. "Well, I wouldn't be standing here right now."
"Well then, I guess we're even."
Ellen looked around the two of them, eyes falling on Bobby's old TV. "Hey, what do you say I make us some popcorn and we claim the remote before the other hoodlums get up?"
Castiel tipped his head to the side. "Popcorn?"
"Oh, boy. Yep, it's official then," Ellen decided. "You sit down and search through the channels and I'll make us up a big batch of my extra buttery popcorn." Ellen zipped past the angel, leaving him to figure out the TV while she went to search through Bobby's cupboards.
As Ellen moved to the kitchen, her brain filled her head with questions. What would be happening now if she and Jo had died? What would be happening if it was Cas who had died? They were terrible questions but if things had only gone slightly different, then life as she and the others knew it could have made a terrible turn. It hadn't in the end and time was still ticking on. The devil was still out there and the apocalypse was still coming. Just the idea of it all made Ellen's head feel heavy, but she pushed it away. Right now was what she wanted to focus on. She and Cas were going to sit and watch old cartoons with a bowl of popcorn and the kids would wake up in an hour or two, smelling Ellen's second batch of popcorn. They would sit and laugh together, their futures momentarily forgotten.
Ellen grinned to herself and pulled a packet of popcorn kernels from Bobby's cabinet. Yeah, she was okay with that.