Here's the third chapter! Thankyou to those who have been reading this story!

Disclaimer: I still don't own Sam, Dean, or Catiel :(

Rising of the Hell Hounds

Chapter 3

"Sam! Sammy! Answer me damn it!" Dean yelled into his cell as he sped down the streets, the tires of the impala squealing at every turn. He threw the phone into the passenger seat that he wished so desperately to be filled with Sam. It was time to give up trying to get an answer from the contraption. Every fiber of his being was screaming with fear. Please…no…don't let this happen again, Dean pleaded to the God that he didn't quite believe in. The memories of seeing Sam walking towards him, injured, but smiling, came flooding back. He must have thought that he was safe. Then came the nightmarish figure that rose up behind Sam to stab his little brother in the back. Remembering the confusion that filled Sam's eyes as his knees hit the dirt made bile rise up in the back of Dean's throat. Never again! Dean thought as he slammed his foot on the accelerator.

When he finally reached one of the many entrances of Central Park a new horror washed over him. The park itself was huge and he had absolutely no idea as to which part of it Sam was located. After several minutes of futile search, Dean dialed Sam's number into the phone again. Maybe, just maybe, Sam would answer or maybe he would hear the buzzing of the phone. He waited and listened.

"Dean?" a shaky voice belonging to Sam answered the phone. Dean didn't think that he'd ever heard a more beautiful sound.

"Sammy! Are you hurt? Where are you? Is Cas there with you?"

"Relax, one question at a time Dean. I'm pretty much alright and as to where I am…" Sam paused for what Dean assumed was to assess his surroundings, "I think I'm near the…boat pond and…yeah, Cas is with me. He's out though."

"Alright…boat pond," Dean muttered as he pulled out the crumpled map of the park that Sam had given him earlier. He searched to find some sort of landmark worthy of a place on the map. Behind him there was fountain. The plaque labeled it to be the Bethesda Fountain. "Good news Sam, I'm not that far. I'm headed your way."

"Dean, I met the demon," Sam said as he pushed himself into as standing position and began to make his way over to Castiel.

"I don't suppose it told you its name."

"Yeah, he actually did," Sam answered as he crouched next to the trench coat clad angel, "He said that his name was Abaddon and that he was…."

"What? What did he say Sam," Dean questioned in an urgent tone.

"He said that he was Cas' older brother," Sam explained as he shook Castiel's shoulder and received no response.

"That's…that's…ludicrous Sam! Cas isn't a demon!" Dean sputtered.

"I know that Dean, I was just-," Sam stopped speaking when he noticed the dark crimson, sticky substance on his fingers. His first reaction was to check himself for injuries and when he found none, he turned to his companion. Sam touched the shoulder that he had just shaken and his hand came back bloody. A horrible sense that something was utterly and completely wrong filled Sam. Hadn't Dean told him that Castiel had absorbed several rounds of gun fire into his chest without flinching or shedding a drop of blood the first time that they met? "Dean you better come quick," Sam choked out, "I think that Cas is hurt."

Sam didn't quite hear Dean's response, he wasn't really listening. He knew that Dean would say something about not being too far away whether it was true or not. The younger Winchester gently turned Castiel onto his side to examine his wounds. Sam, a seasoned hunter, was almost sickened by the gashes that ran deep across Castiel's back. If Sam didn't know better he would say that these wounds were caused by a Hell Hound, but the gashes came in groups of five. Just like a human hand. What was even more disturbing was the fact that there were a few blood soaked white feathers plastered to his back

"Sammy!" The familiar voice of his older brother brought a sense of relief. Dean jogged up to him and crouched next to his brother and fallen friend. "What the Hell happened to him?"

"He must have sensed that Abaddon was here or something like that, so he tried to get us back to the motel, but I think the Demon grabbed him by the wings and yanked us back," Sam explained as Dean picked up one of the bloodied white feathers and examined it.

"You don't think that he…uh…ripped his wings clear off…do you?"

"No…of course not…that's not possible…is it?" Sam asked as he exchanged a worried glance with his brother.

"It's not possible," Castiel answered shooting both of the brothers with an annoyed look, "I would have to loose my grace to loose my wings … they do however, happen to be seriously injured."

"How long is going to take for you to heal?" Sam asked.

"Give me…about three hours," Castiel estimated as he moved himself into a sitting position.

"Three hours?" Dean exclaimed, probably surprised that such an injury could be healed in such a short amount of time.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience," Castiel apologized, "I realize that it is quite a long time to wait."

"No, that's not what I meant Cas," Dean said almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the Angel's apology, "I was just thinking that you would need a few days or something."

"I am an angel, Dean," Castiel grumbled as Sam and Dean helped him to his feet, "Requiring more than a few hours to repair myself would be simply absurd."

"How could I have been so naïve?" Dean questioned sarcastically as the trio began the trek back to the Impala.

It was an uncomfortably warm day in the city of Los Angeles. Most people were wearing light summer clothes. Due to this, the heavy leather jacket and darks jeans wearing man leaning against the street lamp seemed extremely out of place. After receiving several odd glances from those passing by, Charoum began to worry that he was not blending in properly. The Angel of silence shifted uncomfortably. He had assumed that the clothing that his vessel, Mathew Foreman, was wearing would be appropriate for public ventures. Human ways never ceased to confuse the habitually taciturn angel.

"Charoum," a female voice addressed him from behind, "I have finished searching the west side of the city and found nothing."

Charoum nodded to his sister, Colopatiron, in acknowledgement. Frustration burned deep within his soul. The task of protecting the innocent was only becoming more and more difficult. It almost seemed like it wasn't worth the cost of being separated form the majority of his family. Being that it seemed that very few of them were loyal to father anymore. There were those that were loyal to Lucifer, who had decided to turn a blind eye towards the atrocities that Lilith was committing to free him from his cage in Hell. Then there were those who had allied themselves with Michael and were taking similar actions towards Lilith because Michael wanted Lucifer to rise. He wanted to end Lucifer because he saw that as the only way to end the conflict and the only way to bring Father back.

Charoum did not believe that Father would come back if Michael and Lucifer had their death match. It would only kill more humans, the very creatures that God had asked them to bow down before. Their deaths would only anger Father further. He would never forgive them for the murder of half of the world. That would only push him further away, but Michael refused to see it this way and he cast away any of those who spoke of it.

"Bother, I have begun to believe that a Rising will not take place here," Colopatiron confided, her violet eyes flashing, "There has been a decrease in signs here and those in Detroit and Houston say that conditions are rapidly returning to normalcy."

What of New York City? He projected his thoughts into his sister's mind, not wishing to communicate verbally. It was yet another human custom that he did not like. Human's spoke too much and did not listen enough.

"The signs have nearly tripled there," Colopatiron answered, "we must join Castiel and the Winchesters. If the Rising only takes place in one city, the pack will be far to large for them to handle on their own."

I am aware, Charoum answered, inform Machideal, Nemamiah, Nisroc, Rhamiel, and Samandireal of our decision and urge them to join us.

"I will do so and Brother…I have received a disturbing message from Castiel," Colopatiron added, "He says that the Demon controlling the hounds is Abaddon."

Is he certain? Charoum demanded.

"I don't not believe that he would tell me that if he was not certain."

Then we must make haste. Charoum tilted his head to the sky and prayed.

In the cities of Houston and Detroit an urgent Angelic message rang out across the skies and five angels spread their wings and flew to the commanded location.

Abaddon gazed out the window of the pent house apartment belonging to his meat suit. The view was excellent, it would be the perfect place to watch his plan unfold. He leaned his forehead against the cool window and gazed at the traffic jammed street below. It only took one small twitch of his pinky finger to flip an obnoxiously yellow taxi on top of the car next to it and just for fun, with the twitch of his thumb he caused the gas tank of another car to explode. With his heightened sense of hearing, the screams below reached his ears easily. What a lovely sound, he chimed inside his head, and there's still more to come.

"What do have we here?" A deep voice questioned mockingly, "Did Lilith approve this?"

"All Lilith said was that I had to raise a pack of our darling Hounds," Abaddon countered and turned to face Samael, his fallen brother. He couldn't help but admirer his brother's choice for a meat suit. The man he was possessing was tall and built to be a bouncer at a popular club. The man must be absolutely frightening to any average human. "She never said that I couldn't cause a little additional chaos."

"Did she say that you could bring the others, including me along with you?" Samael queried even further and then scratched his nose, which led to three more gas tank explosions and more screams.

"She never said that I couldn't do that either," Abaddon replied, swiping his bangs out of his face with a small hand gesture and four more gas tanks burst into flame, "I am a fallen Angel of Death, Lilith can't honestly expect me to leave this city in one peace, can she? And to destroy it properly, I'll need a little help from my friends."

"I'll be glad to offer my assistance," Samael laughed as five more gas tanks exploded. He walked towards the window and gazed at the fiery mess that had once been a traffic jammed street. His smile melted and Abaddon could sense his brother's mood becoming more serious. "Did Lilith give any specific commands as to how to deal with our angelic company?"

"She didn't, actually. Lilith just said to not let them stop the breaking of the seal," Abaddon mused, his mood not nearly as serious a Samael's, "It sounds like we could be pretty creative on that aspect."

"What are you to chatting about," the recently appeared Demon asked. The Demon happened to be Vestis and his specialty was corruption. Judging by his business attire, Abaddon guessed that he had just returned from a day of corrupting those on Wall Street.

"Oh nothing," Samael replied offhandedly, "Just admiring the mess we made below. How was Wall Street?"

"Ugh! It was so boring," Vestis, complained as he loosened his red, silk tie, "The humans there practically corrupt themselves! I mean, seriously, back in the day I actually had to work a little!"

"Back in the day you used to complain about having to work at all," Abaddon cackled and the other two Demons in the room joined in. As Abaddon laughed he came to one conclusion: being was awesome!

Thanks for reading! Please review! It makes me smile :)