Hell was not a quite place. There was never a time; day or night, when agonizing cries and shrill screams didn't liter the air. But there came one day when there was a sound so piercing that every demon stopped and heard. It was a tearing sound, like paper being ripped in two. It echoed throughout, and that was when the angel appeared. He came from nowhere and was wrapped in dust and smoke. He was kneeling, with his head down. The angel was draped in golden armor, his charcoal wings spread proud and grand. He was dressed like warrior and he glowed with the intense essence of his grace. His sharp blue eyes were fierce and they burned with intense fire, and he spoke clearly. "Where is Dean Winchester?"
His words rattled in the minds of every demon, but none of them spoke to answer. They knew the name, everyone did. But they dare not tell the angel, out of fear.
The angel's eyes narrowed in wrath, and he repeated again with a sharp edge in his voice. "Where, is Dean Winchester!?"
Footsteps echoed off to the side of the massive space where the angel had appeared. Then, he came. Out from the shadows of the arching cave walls and the stalagmites dripping blood, came the man he sought—Dean Winchester.
He too was not the same that he once was. Dean had fallen farther than any man. He had gone from hero to villain in a matter of minutes, in fact he had gone from Human to Demon. His soul was darker than black and his eyes were endless pits that frightened even the strongest monsters. He was not just any demon; he was a knight of hell.
Dean Winchester—the man gone dark. He was clad in black armor; his own black webbed wings were spread like bat in flight. On his arm was the mark of Cain, after all those years it stayed in the same place un-faded from his skin as a constant reminder of the past. His head was cocked to the side, and wore the kind of grin that made the souls he tortured, howl in fear. He radiated pure fear, the kind that no person has ever lived to feel. His dark eyes landed on the angel and he spoke in a stony voice that projected sharply like a blade scrapping against steel.
"Castiel…" he said almost with pleasure "Long time, no see buddy."
On the last word he spoke, he listed his right eyebrow playfully the effect was bone chilling, and it sent a shiver down Castiel's spine. With a sudden pit in his heart Castiel felt for the first time that this was not the same man he had once fought alongside of.
He lowered his head. "Dean…I promised your brother tha-"
Dean cut him off.
"Oh what? Sam? You promised Sam that you would save me?" he said the words harshly as though it was a cruel joke "News flash, little brother doesn't care."
Castiel stared wretchedly at the sneer on his former friend's face.
"That's not true Dean, it never was. You know that." He insisted standing straighter.
Dean let lose a cold humorless laugh that resonated against the cold metal and stone walls.
"Castiel, I'm not that man that you once knew. He's…" he paused for a moment to think of just the right word "Gone."
"I refuse to believe that." Castiel clenched his fist, feeling his own nails press into his palms. "Dean, I don't know what happened to you. But this isn't right. This place, this…process, this change its done something to you!"
"A little late to figure that out now don't you think?"
"Perhaps…" he said softly again turning his face to the ground. "But…you don't have to do this Dean."
Dean was startled at first hearing those words. He had a vivid recollection of himself telling Castiel that once inside one of Lucifer crypts.
"Don't quote me to me." He said harshly, but in a familiar tone. For a moment it was like having the old Dean back again.
Castiel found himself almost smiling; he had rescued a deformed, rage filled torturer from Hell many years ago, and suddenly he though maybe it wasn't impossible.
"I'm not coming back, Castiel."
"Maybe not of your own choice…"
"And how do you plan on forcing me? I'm not weak like I used to be. I'm stronger than you."
Castiel said nothing, but he new there was truth in those words. He looked Dean in his eyes, which was a mistake—his heart fell seeing the dark pits instead of his old human eyes. That thought stirred the fire in his heart, and he didn't speak but sent a message when he reached for his silver angel blade in his armor sheath.
Dean's face twisted seeing the knife, he scowled and reached for his own weapon. From the scabbard on his belt he pulled out the first blade and gripped it tightly in his hand, feeling the ancient burning on his forearm.
"I'm sorry Dean," Castiel said
Dean grimaced, surprised to hear those words after all the years that had passed. "I'm not."
Castiel lunged; his wings propelled him forward with incredible speed. His knife made contact, and dug into Deans arm leaving a gash that glowed red with energy.
Dean looked at the cut on his arm, and laughed—this was nothing. He leapt into the air and landed hard behind Castiel. He thrust his blade forward and Castiel fell to the ground. He stayed, unmoving on his hands and knees, his back arched in pain.
Castiel let loose a grunt in misery, he reached his hand back and felt his wound. The slash emitted a blue white glow.
"You can't beat me Castiel."
Castiel nodded.
For a moment Dean was stunned, the reaction felt wrong. He should have been angry or afraid, distressed or disappointed that he had failed. Dean remembered feeling all of those things. But then, Dean realized why Castiel had really come.
"You didn't come to beat me did you?" his voice shook slightly in both craze and confusion
"No, I didn't…"
"Then why are you here Castiel?" He demanded clenching his teeth
"I needed to be sure that you couldn't be saved." He said, "I needed to live knowing that I had done all that I could to save you."
"Its not your job to save me Castiel!" he said between tight teeth lowering his blade. "I was the one that made the mistake, I was the one that just needed to kill Abbadon."
"You did the right thing killing her…"
"You know what?! I am sick of people saying that I 'did the right thing' killing shouldn't be our solution to everything Cas!"
For a second, Dean realized the magnitude of what he had just said. Not only had he just realized what to do about the mark of Cain, but realized that he had just called Castiel 'Cas' for the first time in years.
"That bitch had it coming, but death and killing aren't the only option…"
Castiel felt his eyes widen, and the pain in his side recede.
"I was the one that killed her and killed myself in the process. What the hell is the point of free will if we are never free to decide what we really want to do?!"
Again, his voice leveled and something about his felt recognizable again, like the way her used to be.
"Damn it Cas…" he spat shaking his head "That was it all this time…"
"What…?"
"Cain killed his brother because it was the only way he could think to keep him from communing with the Demons. Deciding to kill created this mark; Cain didn't have to kill, he chose to. So by deciding not to kill…" He said dropping the blade on the ground. "I can destroy it."
As the blade clattered against the uneven slate floor, Dean collapsed onto the floor. His eyes squeezed tight, and he tried to muffle a scream as he felt first burn threw his veins and his blood boil. He felt his skin blister as though it was on fire and unimaginable heat seared behind his eyes.
He vaguely heard Cas's voice yelling, but the sound was muffled and unclear.
The pain cooled, and his body relaxed. He felt the after effects of his pain still fiery under his skin, but a rush of cool healed his damaged nerves.
When he opened his eyes, the mark was gone from his forearm, and Cas was standing over him.
His blue eyes were full of awe and his mouth hung open "Dean…do you know what you just did…" He stuttered in absolute disbelief.
"I think I just cured myself…" he said sharply "Am I…I mean do I look like…"
Castiel nodded and said "You're human, Dean Winchester."
He felt half a smile creep up his face. "Good that armor was kind of ridiculous anyway."
Cas continued to look bewildered. "Why did you do that? Why did you decide to live?"
"The same reason you decided to die, I needed to be sure."
Cas looked down at his own armor and in a flash of white light, he was changed back to how he had appeared years ago in a trench coat, a suit and a backwards-blue tie. He extended a hand and Dean took it, standing up. Castiel spread his wings, though to Dean they were now invisible again. Cas took off into flight, leaving hell behind. Saying as they left, clear as a bell "Dean Winchester is saved."
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