I still do not own Supernatural. Do I really need a disclaimer for every chapter?
Thank you so much to those who reviewed! They were very helpful. I really liked writing the Sam talk. Dean was pretty difficult. I tried to stick to his character, but I think I wandered off a bit.
Again, this is going to be religious piece, and Dean's talk has more language than Sam's so I upped the rating. I'm thinking of doing a Castiel/Uriel or Castiel/Some other angel piece, what do you think?
Dean's thoughts/dreams Castiel's thoughts/inner monologuePain, blood, fire, hooks, pain, blood, fire, hooks, loneliness, seperation, defeat, the end, alone, pain, blood, fire, hooks, pain, blood, fire, hooks. SAMMY! No one! You are alone, defeated, dead, this is the end. You have become what you hunt.
Dean woke up with a short scream. He started panicking unsure of where he was, then remembered. Another crappy motel. Sam isn't here because he went to the next town for research. One night alone in a motel room will not kill you Dean. Now stop talking to yourself and go back to sleep. Dean tried unsecessfully to go back to sleep. After a few minutes of wrestling with his consience he got up and walked to the bathroom. The dim lighting suited him just fine. He splashed water on his face and looked up at the medicine cabinet mirror. With a flash he saw his eyes turn jet black all the way through the whites. He blinked once, twice, okay, everything is normal. You ARE NOT a demon, Dean. He exited the bathroom and sat down on the corner of his bed. "Troubled dreams, Dean?" Dean jumped at the voice and then realized Castiel was sitting in the tattered armchair in the corner. "Dude, how long have you been there?" Was the muddled reply Castiel got.
He is not doing well. Castiel thought to himself. The dreams are too much for him and he is too attached to Samuel. How much more can he endure, Father?
"I can tell whenever you are in distress, Dean. I came as soon as I sensed it." An even voiced Castiel replyed, trying to sound cool and collected, although he wanted to scream and shake Dean and tell him to just give up, find a home, stop totureing himself. Although Castiel knew that that was impossible.
"Yes, well I'm fine. I'm alive, no demons here as you can see. Now can you get the hell out so I can sleep?" Dean did not want to deal with the angel tonight. He just wanted sleep. Pure sleep with no dreams whatsoever. And in the morning Sam would be back and they'd finish the case and drive off in the sunset with the Impala blaring AC/DC. God, I really am tired! Where the hell did that image come from?
"Do you really think you'll be able to sleep with all those demons floating around?" Castiel was trying. He just needed to get Dean to talk. "Didn't I just say no demons around here? Or is Ruby hanging around somewhere waiting to wrap herself around Sammy as soon as he gets back?" At this point Dean was getting annoyed. Doesn't he have someone else to bother for once.
"Dean, it was not Ruby's type of demons I was referring to. You have your own demons. Do not think that Sam doesn't notice your change, or that you can go on trying to forget that you spent 10 years torturing the damned." Castiel had had it. The soft, kind, "Mr. Nice Guy" angel routing was not working for Dean. It was time for a new approach: short, and to the point, make Dean do most of the talking.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW! You have no idea what it was like for me!" Dean was fuming. He had stood up and Castiel quickly followed suit. The two men were facing off in between the bed and armchair. Dean looked about ready to rip of Castiel's head and Castiel's face was resolute, his eyes full of blue fire.
Good, he's talking. The anger doesn't matter, he is talking. Where do we go from here Dean, what is it that will make you see?
"You cannot deny the truth, Dean. You were well on your way to becoming a demon. Imagine, if I hadn't pulled you out when I did, Sam might have hunted YOU one day." The mention of his brother sent Dean over the edge. He punched Castiel hard enough to push him back into the armchair. But only the shell was damaged, the angel didn't feel a thing. Physical harm to others, well, I suppose it is some form of communication.
Dean was standing above the chair looking completely stunned at what he had just done to Castiel. He sat down on the bed and put his forehead in his palms. Too much, Cas. I can't take that vision. But he's right, that's the bitch of it all. This damn angel here is completely right. Shit, I don't want him to be right. "How much about hell do you know?" Dean looked up, still pissed, but willing to talk.
"I only know hell is seperation from my Father. Lucifer was my brother once. He became proud and sought to put himself above the Father. Those who followed him were cast into hell. No good exists there, it is a place of lies and deceit, it is truly a Godforsaken place. I had never seen the extent until I searched through it's labyrinth for you." Castiel's eyes had gone dead at his own description. The thought of being eternally separated from the purity and wholeness of his Father was enough to cool his earlier fire.
"That's a cute way of describing it, but you forgot to mention the brimstone. It's more than that Castiel. Hell was seperation all right. Seperation from Sam, from the hunt, watching demons pull down their shells that could have been saved if I was here. I saw people that I had met in life down there. When I was fourteen I came across my first demon possession alone. A kid in the town tried to attack Sam and I, when I pulled the kid off of Sam I saw that his eyes were black. I didn't know then what I know now. I panicked and stabbed the shell in the heart, of course it kept moving until the demon left the body. When the demon did eventually leave, the body crumpled and there was nothing but a dead boy on the sidewalk. In Hell, that boy wound up on my rack. I tortured him to the point beyond death day after day after day. You tell me, does that jive with what you thought Hell was?"Something Castiel had said just caught up with Dean. "What do you mean you searched for me?"
Here we go, it's about time Dean. "Of course I did, Dean. Do you really believe it was chance that made me run into the only soul in Hell that did not belong there? My orders were to find you, Dean Winchester. You were the one we needed. Not because of what Sam is, or because you happen to be a hunter. We needed you because you have clean heart. Because you are you, and you were created for a specific purpose."
Dean chuckled lightly, "A clean heart? You really don't know me do you?"
"I said clean, not pure, Dean. Your heart, soul, whatever you choose to call it is selfless. You made a deal to save someone else, not to benefit yourself. That is truly rare. You do not think of yourself above others. We knew that if one man was meant to help us in our battle it would be you."
"So what you're saying is this, of all the men in history, I am the cleanest, without actually being pure?" I'd consider that an accomplishment. Dean gave Castiel a smug smile. "Certainly not, but when those other men were around, we weren't dealing with Lilith. You were here at the right time. And you had followed our Father your whole life."
Dean raised an eyebrow, "Now I know you got the wrong guy. Do not kill is somewhere in that book of yours along with a few others that probably don't fit me."
"There is a time to kill and time to heal, Dean. That's in that book you're referring to. So is this, love mercy, walk humbly, act justly. Think about your life, your hunts; these things are evident in them. Later on a writer tells congregation that it is against the principalities and demons that they fight, not the physical things of this realm. And as for what you did in hell, that same writer says, 'that which I want to do I do not do, and that which I do not want to do I do.' Being clean is not being perfect. King David was a man after God's own heart, and he struggled with as much lust as you do."
Dean stood up and stretched. "Well thanks for the Sunday school lesson, old pal. But I'm not buying it. There's nothing special about me, about my family. We just got dealt a shit card. No amount of holy chit chat will change my mind on that." Castiel could tell Dean was tired and frustrated. When Dean went to say something else, Castiel was gone.
A/N- Sorry to leave you hanging. this was pretty long, sorry about that. I decided to add a third chapter, pretty short, but the epilogue was longer than what I thought it would be.
