A/N: I don't own Supernatural, the CW, or any other known entity. This takes place sometime after the ending of the Apocalypse, and has 2 parts. The second should be up either later today or tomorrow. I have no idea where this story came from, but anyway... Dean is severely defeated by this point, and there is some bad language... those are my warnings. I hope you guys enjoy, and please review. :)
Out of Hope
He was on the floor… again.
After all the battles that he had fought, one would think that the floor would be a place that Dean was used to. But then again, not so much. At least, not like this.
He was on the floor inside a cage, similar to the one the Benders had locked Sam in all those years ago, except the door wasn't locked from a distance. The lock was right there, on the cage. But every time Dean dared to stand up, try to make a move out of there, he would be thrown back to the floor.
Dean made yet another note to stay away from everyone.
He couldn't be sure which of the million or so people might have turned on him this time. A victim he saved, a person who was threatened, a demon, who knows. But Dean was here now, in this cage, beaten and bloodied on the floor.
Not for the first time, he cursed Castiel.
If it wasn't for Castiel's internal carvings, the angel could easily find Dean where he was and get him the hell out of this place. But it had been at least three weeks now, and Castiel and Sam hadn't found him.
If they were even looking at all.
Dean shivered, his body frozen in this tiny room. He was almost certain he was somewhere cold, perhaps somewhere like Northern Russia. But, if he were outside of the U.S., he knew there was no way that anyone would find him. Because Sam would never think to fly somewhere, and Castiel wouldn't know how to find him.
With each passing day, Dean felt a little more of himself slip away.
At least once a day, he would think about getting up and walking to the other side of the cage. Depending on the moment and how much pain he was in, maybe he might actually attempt it. But the second he got up, he was thrown back to the floor. If he tried to crawl, he would get another muscle painfully popped or he would find himself chained against the bars. He couldn't win, no matter how he tried.
This was the most fucked up punishment that Dean could think of.
For once, Dean's captor actually appeared in front of him, just beyond the bars of the cage. And Dean found himself chained down, unable to reach out and beat his captor. Not that that would have done him any good.
Only an angel can kill an angel.
"Have you learned your lesson yet?" the angel before him said, half-glaring.
"Which lesson would that be?" Dean asked wearily, too tired and pained to fight much anymore. He had lost the urge to fight sometime last week.
"This can all be over…"
"If I say yes? I thought I already saved the world."
The angel scoffed, leaning in toward the cage. "You were supposed to say yes."
Dean looked at his captor with confusion. "So, because I found a loophole, you're pissed at me?"
The angel waved his hand dismissively. "No."
"Then what lesson should I have learned?" The words were not spoken with malice, as Dean had figured out in three weeks that malice would not be useful. Being here was almost as bad as being in Hell, given that the angel before him would bring him to the brink of death, only to restore his life and start all over. Unlike Hell, though, there was no offer to stop the pain, as his captor had not entered the room up until this point. Whatever Dean could have learned, he would learn, if for no reason other than to make this stop.
"You were supposed to fight for the angels," the other man said.
"I'm sorry," Dean said sincerely, hoping that would get him freed.
As the angel scoffed, Dean felt his hopes get crushed again. "No, you're not. You're not sorry."
Dean felt a hand practically rip into his chest, despite the fact that the angel was still outside the cage. Dean screamed in pain, even though his throat was raw from all the screaming of the past three weeks. "Please, stop," Dean practically begged, feeling worn out and unable to take anymore.
The angel leaned forward again, glaring as the pain stopped for the time being. "Give me one good reason why I should show you mercy, when you did nothing to help me and my brothers out. You have yelled at us, scoffed at us, cursed at us. You've been blatantly disobedient to everyone, and for some reason, Castiel put up with it. I don't know why."
"He has a better sense of humor?" The comment earned Dean another gash across his chest, causing him to cry out again. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Do you even know the meaning of the words?" the angel taunted, stepping back.
"Yes, I do." Dean coughed, bloody mucus pouring out of his mouth. Another thing that had happened a lot lately. But the angel would always restore him, make him better, just to destroy him again. "Please, tell me what I did wrong. Please."
The angel chuckled. "I never thought I'd see the day when the great and fearless Dean Winchester was afraid."
Dean felt a slight resolve growing in him, the desire to survive. But at the same time, he knew it wouldn't be long before that, too, would go away. Just as it always did. Because this was one battle that even stubborn Dean Winchester couldn't win.
"You want to know what you did wrong?" the angel asked, leaning close to the cage again.
"Please," Dean rasped, choking on blood and pain.
"You got me cast out of Heaven. You got me in trouble with my father. So now I'm as hunted as Castiel once was."
"That's not my fault," Dean said, both anger and fear fueling him. "You allowed this to happen. You could've stopped Lilith from breaking the rest of the seals, and you didn't. You could've stopped Sam from breaking the last seal, and you didn't. That's not on me. That's you."
Dean felt his body get ripped into again as the angel calmly stared at him. "All you had to do was say yes to Michael."
"The Earth is still intact," Dean muttered through the pain. "Why are you so mad?"
"Because, Dean. Humans weren't supposed to survive. We angels were supposed to have the world for ourselves. And you ruined that. You only looked after your own best interest."
Dean furrowed his brow. "Isn't that what you were doing?" Dean got a hard blow to the stomach, all while the angel stood back.
"Paradise was always meant for the angels. Not for you."
Dean closed his eyes, breathing deeply as the pain subsided somewhat.
"You were supposed to do that for us. You were the only one who could. But you wouldn't just accept your role and do what you were told. You had to go and find the loophole. You had to be the hero for the human race."
Dean whimpered as his body was beaten further, him getting hit with every word the angel was speaking.
"Well, Mr. Hero, you're stuck here. And here you will remain for as long as I am hunted by Heaven. Every day, you will suffer, and every night, you will freeze. You can wish you would die to get out of here, but even that won't work. Sam will never find you, Bobby will never find you, and Castiel can't find you anyway. You'll never get out of here."
Dean cried softly as pain ripped through him again.
"Scream, cry, whatever you want," the angel continued. "No one can hear you."
"Zachariah," Dean choked out.
"Your apologies mean nothing, Dean. Your words mean nothing. You are going to suffer, and you're going to die. Alone."
"Zachariah, please."
"You're all out of favors, Dean. You lose." Zachariah disappeared before Dean could say another word.
When Zachariah left, Dean's bonds were broken, and the damaged hunter sunk against the floor yet again. If he had much energy left in him, he might try to free himself. But even then, he knew that would end badly, with even more pain. He couldn't quite take much more.
He was running out of time, out of options, and, even worse, out of hope.