Redemption's Salvation
Wild: Well kids, here is chapter two. I apologize for chapter one having been so short, but as it was night time and I was lulling off to sleep; I hope it sufficed for all your beginning chapter Supernatural appetites.
Dean: No! It did not suffice! Where the Fuck is my cheeseburger!
Wild: *gulps and hides under a card table as Dean stalks towards her, carrying a pistol, a bazooka, and an ax*
Sam: Please enjoy the chapter. Dean!
Sorry, I forgot my usual codes in the last chappie!
Bold italics = angels talking through mind
Italics = thoughts
II
Adam reclined back against the walls of the Cage, situated in a tight corner to distance himself from the arguing he could hear all the way to the forty-fifth level on the pit. Apparently they were at it for maybe twelve hours without letting up.
Adam would normally spend this time alone, to himself, to analyze the Cage for any utterly possible future reference. He glanced around, eyeing how dark and hollow it was inside. There was nothing to do but let yourself grieve with the darkness, or to fight the others that dwelled within. He grieved.
Time didn't really seem to be the same inside the Cage. You had no way to tell time within the walls of the pit. Adam's own watch had seemed to stop when he was dragged into the accursed place with his half-brother and the two Archangels.
This place is so boring. All that ever happens in here is those two fighting and teasing me, he thought, listening to the lulling sounds of Lucifer and Michael fighting. The swords clashing, the battle cries; it all seemed to fade into a soft lullaby trying to drag him into sleep. Yet he found himself unable to sleep.
His mind went blank and tears began to trickle down his cheeks. He blinked, imagining his life back on Earth. Why couldn't he have just said no to Michael? He had been too compelled and desired to see his mother again. This all wouldn't have happened if he hadn't tried to play Death.
More tears shimmered down his cheeks as he stared blankly at the shadows peering at him with distaste, hissing and grinning. He could almost see the demons' beady eyes, scarlet and golden, peering at him with greedy intent. He coiled and his stomach muscles rippled with pain as he could have sworn his body went up in flames.
He felt the heat going through him, and he gently touched his wound, feeling the warm liquid of blood beginning to leak from it.
Damn it, not again! I didn't even move this time, and it opened…this really is a Hell within Hell, he thought, lifting his gaze to where he wished a bright light would shine down on him. How he wished that his suffering here would end. Did the Lord God really hate him and these two so much that he'd trap him here? I guess God really has abandoned us all to Hell.
Ye have so little fate that it is pathetic, human, he heard voices echo in his mind. He flinched and gulped in air as the flames seemed to grow. You're an idiot, Adam. You think God would just abandon us all to the likes of my Brother. Do not be absurd. For my property, I expect you to be much wiser.
Adam growled as Michael's voice whispered into his mind. He clenched his fist and reared back his head, banging it powerfully against the walls of his corner many times, trying to drive out the Archangel with pain.
"Get. Out. Of. My. Head!" he snarled, bringing his head back for many powerful hits. He felt triumph beginning to take over as Michael's presence began to lessen and wither like a flower in winter.
Adam! Stop that, you idiot! You're hurting yourself more than me! Stop! I order you! Michael screamed, and Adam felt a grin spread across his lips. With the way he grinned, he could almost be described as a demon.
"I belong to no one, and I follow no orders, Michael. I believe I already told you this. And as for hurting myself, it is all worth it if only to keep you out of my mind and away from me for all eternity while in this God-forsaken Cage," he whispered, and felt Michael's presence diminish.
He gingerly laid back his head, surely soaked in crimson from the force of his self-imposed wounds. He coughed softly into the elbow of his jacket, not caring that it would most likely have a blood stain later.
I have to admit, that may have been a little too extreme, even for me, he thought to himself, laying back into his corner. He curled up into a small ball and tried to go to sleep. But even he could not fall into the deep slumber he desired in the Hell hole of flames and ash.
II
Dean sat in a wooden chair at Castiel's bedside, staring at his shallow breathing while Sam wrapped the angel's head, hands, and wrists. Dean stared at the beautiful angel who he had grown to adore and miss since he had disappeared after he betrayed heaven.
His gaze slowly drifted to the already red wrappings on Castiel's arms. He hated seeing the majestic, cautious, naïve angel is such a sorry state.
"Bobby, how can this be? He should have healed himself long ago," Dean said irritably, hearing the man roll into the room. Bobby grunted and tipped back his beer bottle, staring at Castiel's slumbering form.
"I'll be damned honest with ya, Dean. I really don't know. He should have healed long ago, as you said, but it would seem that his celestial powers as an angel are currently inactive. It is almost like he is…" Bobby didn't finish his sentence. He didn't need to finish; Dean finished it for him.
"Like he's human," Dean muttered, brushing back the dark black locks from the angel's face. Bobby grunted in confirmation, but Dean just ignored the old man blubbering on about something to Sam.
Sam stared at his brother in sorrow. He hated to see Dean is this state of mind; drawing and curling into his own little world. Sam couldn't help the small satisfaction that maybe this would be the chance that Dean and Castiel needed, the final push to get them to be in unity.
Dean remained sitting there, even as Sam and Bobby left the room, whispering in the hallway outside the apartment. Dean sat there, his thoughts wandering to the blue-eyed angel he had never imagined he'd encounter again.
It hadn't thought he'd see this man again, after bringing his brother back from Hell and not after Castiel had used the power of the people from Purgatory. He let a small smile cross hi lips and touched Castiel's hand, finding the digits cold, chilled.
"Welcome home, Cas," he whispered to the limp, sleeping body.
II
"Sam, this is obviously not a normal case for angels," bobby muttered, staring at the dark haired boy in front of him. Bobby had been ecstatic when he saw that Dean had brought Sammy back from the Cage. Yet he found himself working harder to find another way to end this feud between God and Lucifer, to find another ending for the two brothers.
"I know. That is why we need you to take a look at the records and see what you can find out. Anything would work. I'm also going to ask around and find out what information I can," Sam responded, leaning back against the walls. The hallway was cramped, and smelled like wet dog, alcohol, and smoke.
"How do you intend to ask someone for answers? Is there someone else who knows the records that I am not aware of, Sammy?" Bobby asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Sam snorted and said, "It's Sam, Bobby; and no, it is no one that you know of. And no one of significance. It's just an old friend that we met while journeying…a very peculiar character who really does not know when to shut up."
Bobby arched an eyebrow even further up on his face before grumbling something under his breath.
"Alright, alright, I'll take a look at the files, and you try to weasel some info out of this mysterious friend, whoever the fuck he is. I just hope that he might have some better luck than me. See you round, Sammy."
"It's Sam!"
II
Adam's eyes drifted open when he felt two ominous auras lingering over him. He also felt the soft caresses of flesh moving across his cheek. His eyebrows scrunched together as he moved his head, shying away from the touch. What the hell was touching him? Whatever it was, he was now officially pissed off at it.
He opened his eyes to stare into pools of brown and sandy blonde hair. Lucifer stared back at him, crouching down in front of him with an odd, curious expression. His hand hovered in the air close to Adam's cheek.
Adam's eyes widened and he flinched backwards as far as he could, which was unfortunately not very far. Lucifer grinned at him and withdrew his hand, staring at Adam, cocking his head slightly to the side.
"Sorry if I woke you, human," Lucifer purred, staring at Adam with a pleasant grin. Adam, however, was not deceived.
"My name is Adam, not human. Adam Milligan," he growled, eyes narrowing, "and just what in blazes are you doing? Did you already tire yourselves out from battling forever in this hell hole?"
Lucifer tisked at Adam, waving his finger and clucking his tongue.
"Touchy words there, Adam. Do you dislike us that much?"
"You're the Devil and Michael is a bastard; yes, I do hate you that much," Adam growled and tried to make a move to kick at Lucifer, but found that his wound was very unhappy with the motion. Blood seeped more through the fabric and he clutched his side, panting. His forehead was covered with sweat, and his breathing was deep and shallow.
Lucifer stared at Adam's pitiful state before reaching out and lifting the clinging fabric of Adam's coat, showing the nasty wound.
"That's quite an injury you have there, Adam. This is from Michael's blade too, isn't it?" he drawled, staring at the beautiful crimson color of Adam's blood. It stirred something inside Lucifer that made his demon emerge. "How would you like for me to heal this, eh?"
Adam's eyes narrowed and he growled softly, like a demon. It made Lucifer grin even more.
"Trying to make a deal with me, are you Lucifer?" Adam asked softly, and Lucifer shrugged.
"A simple act of courtesy is all I am doing. Can even I not try to help someone stuck in the same trap as me?" Lucifer asked. Yet even as he said this, he felt it was a lie. He felt the need to dominate as much as Michael, to try and control this human who seemed so desperate to be uncontrollable.
"I'm not an idiot as Michael perceives me; I'd prefer you not do the same," Adam snorted, but could already feel his body going slack beneath Lucifer, his breathing becoming more soft and smooth.
"I wouldn't dare," Lucifer chuckled and let his Grace begin to seep from his palm and into Adam's wounds. It stirred Adam's blood and made him grunt and grip onto the floor with a taut grip. Lucifer continued to heal Adam's wound carefully, making sure to leave some of his own Grace lingering on Adam's form. He wanted Michael to feel that Lucifer had helped Adam, that he in some way, owned him by leaving his Grace within Adam's body.
"Damn you," Adam muttered as Lucifer carefully cut off the strings of Grace and withdrew. "You and him are so damn irritating."
"Please don't go comparing me to my older brother. I may love him, but I am not on the same level than him," Lucifer said and leaned close to gaze deep into the human's eyes, "I am better and far more powerful."
With that note, he patted Adam on the head like a dog, stood and leapt up with great strength into the air, spreading large wings that glistened obsidian. Adam stared as feathers were shed from the magnificent wings, left to flutter down the floor beside him. He stared at the feathers and tenderly picked one up, turning it every which way, examining it curiously.
It shimmered a blue, black, and eerie purple that captivated him. He knew that demon's wings were normally scaly and boney, with a claw on the ends to kill with a swift jerk of the arm. That was how normal demon wings were depicted. Yet this feather proved many wrong, and it made him think of what Michael's wings looked like.
Probably white like snow and gold like the sun, Adam found himself thinking and he grunted while trying to stand up. He tucked the black feather into his jacket pocket, deciding to keep it. He could probably hide it well enough, and he liked how it looked.
He shifted his weight before looking up at the upper levels, then down at the lower levels. Which way, which way, which way, kept playing in his mind over and over again in a constant, annoying cycle. He groaned and stepped to the edge of the level and stuck a foot out, letting himself plummet towards the lower levels, deciding to revisit the blazing inferno beneath their feet.
II
Michael glared down at the lower levels where he could sense Lucifer's Grace, and Adam's presence. His eyes narrowed in anger when he caught the scent of the two's scents mingling together, and he felt his wings bristle.
Adam was his vessel, his to own and use as he desired. Lucifer had no right over Adam; only Michael had such the privilege to call the fiery human his. Michael watched as Lucifer glided upwards, bowing into a graceful arch to float in the sky. Michael glared and found himself also falling to the beauty his younger brother possessed.
"Leave Adam alone, Lucifer. He is mine," Michael rumbled, touching the sword at his side. His wounds had fully healed, and he felt the inch creeping up his skin to fight again in a never ending battle and clashing of blades.
"Now Michael, as the human has so blatantly proclaimed to us, he belongs to no one," Lucifer purred, landing on the platform. He propped his hands on his hips and gave his older brother a half-smile, "but I do admit that your scent lingers on him…however, whose scent do you think is stronger?"
"Mine, of course," Michael responded instinctively. Lucifer cocked his eyebrow and his eyes glowed. He flashed his pearly white, perfect teeth. Michael understood why Lucifer had been God's favorite- he really was the image of Sin.
"Are you so sure about that brother?" Lucifer asked. Michael's eyebrows creased together to form a straight bushy line across his forehead. What did Lucifer mean? Unless…Michael's feathers bristled and his wings stretched out to their fully length.
"Did you do it?" Michael hissed, his grip tightening and unsheathing his blade. The metal glowed with the power coursing through Michael.
"Do what brother?" Lucifer asked innocently, and found a very pointy object at his neck, threatening him. "All I did was heal his wounds with my Grace? Is it so wrong to help the poor human being out? After all Michael," he said and leaned closer to whisper into Michael's ear, "it was your blade that inflicted the wound upon his flesh."
Michael growled and lifted his sword, bringing it down with a roar of anger. Adam was his vessel…His.
And he'd fight to keep what belonged to him, even if he deemed them pathetic.
II
Sam stood in the darkness of the room and sighed, hardly believing that he was honestly about to do such a foolish and idiotic thing. He stepped toward the summoning circle then hesitated, stepping back. He tried again, and again, he stepped back.
Come on Sam, you are not a wimp. Besides, this will make Dean happy…do it to make Dean and Castiel happy, Sam thought, chastising himself to finally step into the circle. He gulped and closed his eyes, praying in his mind for the help he so desired- all for his brother's sake.
He felt the presence burst before him, rising from the dead. He felt the warm glowing on his skin, warming it like the sun. It felt good, but he kept praying, knowing this summoning needed his full attention.
"Hello, Sammy."
II
Wild: Well, here is chapter two everybody! I know that it is kinda obvious on what I am doing in the story, but I hope you can forgive me. I am not as good at TV shows and real life movies and such: anime is my forte.
Sam: So please have some patience with her.
Dean: What the hell are you doing there, Sam! Are you a fucking idiot!
Sam: I am doing this all to save you, bitch!
Wild: and on that note, please excuse those two and review on how I did. I desperately need guidance!