Sam's heart thudded, starbursts exploding in his vision even behind closed lids. He peeled his eyes open a little at a time as the painfully intense light dissipated. Breathing heavily, the hunter gazed around the chamber in shock. There wasn't a demon in sight, though piles of ash littered the stone floor, evidence of where each one had been standing only seconds before. The only ones left alive were him and Dean, but Dean was slumped over, hands on his knees and head bowed.

Even from his position, Sam could see his brother start to tilt as though to topple over. Dean staggered.

"Mmmn!" Sam tried to shout around the harsh leather strap keeping him silenced. The near miss, in addition to fear for his brother, drew tears to his eyes. "MMN!"

What had it cost him, to use all that power? Gabriel had warned that it should be a weapon of last resort, and now Sam could see why. Dean's eyes were unfocused as he raised his head. He seemed barely able to keep his feet as he stumbled drunkenly forward.

It took a few tries for Dean's shaky hand to find the buckle for the gag and pull it clumsily away. Sam gasped and gulped in a deep breath of air, before whispering, "Dean…?"

"Mmm," his brother groaned back as his eyelids fluttered. "S'mmy… I- I gotcha… We…" Dean couldn't even finish his sentence, clearly worn out as he reached next for one of Sam's wrists. After a second of fruitless tugging, he seemed to realize that the manacles were still latched. Dean lifted the blade and stared at it for a second, before squinting at the chains.

Sam couldn't help but close his eyes, hoping against hope his brother was steady enough to break the metal without taking Sam's hand with it. He jumped as celestial alloy struck Hadean steel, echoing with a clang throughout the chamber. One manacle fell away. A second later, his other hand was likewise freed.

Sam lowered his arms with relief, rubbing his shoulders with a wince at the ache before carefully urging the angel blade out of Dean's grip to free his own feet from the fetters. Dean didn't protest or try to move, staring dully forward as his head drooped. By the time Sam was loose, his brother could barely stand. Dean's eyes rolled back and his legs buckled.

"Whoa!" Sam gasped, managing to catch him just in time. "Dean? Hey! Dean!" He stowed the extra blade and lowered his brother to sit on the ground, just long enough for him to quickly heal his broken leg with the healing sigil. He'd deal with the burn on his arm later; right now, he just needed to be mobile so they could get out of there as fast as possible.

As soon as he felt his femur knit itself back together, Sam deactivated the sigil and heaved Dean up, wrapping his brother's arm over his shoulders to take as much of his weight as he could. Sam looked frantically around the chamber until he spotted his own blade that Iris had taken on her tray of torture devices.

The hunter swallowed hard, trying to forget the mindless terror of her threats and dark promises and everything it had brought back to his memory ("We're gonna have so much fun, Sammy," Lucifer whispered), as he grabbed the archangel-forged blade and held it aloft. "Okay," he murmured. "Come on, we gotta get out of here."

"Cas… he's…" Dean slurred. "He's not here…"

Good, Sam couldn't help but think with a shudder. Everything Iris had taunted him with, he couldn't imagine being done to Cas without his breath hitching in horror. Pausing to activate his tracking sigil, Sam closed his eyes.

The tug was leading him out the door, so he followed dutifully along, half-carrying Dean. Again, Sam wondered just how much power that sigil had held. Iris had said she'd summoned the entire tower; meanwhile, the stone hallway outside the chamber was carpeted in a thick layer of ash that hadn't been there before. Had all the demons gotten caught in the blast? Gabriel was certainly powerful enough to have managed that, had he been there.

Regardless, Sam kept his blade at the ready as he lugged his brother through the halls as quickly as they could manage without toppling over. Dean's weight made Sam's burned arm scream in pain (Tongues of Lucifer's fire slithered under his skin, burning him from the inside out), but he kept moving.

As an enormous spiral staircase loomed in front of them, Sam wondered frantically how he was going to get Dean up multiple flights of stairs, but the unseen thread connecting him to Cas urged him to continue on further along the pitch-black tunnel. Soon, even the faint light from the torches faded away.

If only Terriel had provided a sigil to see in the dark, Sam thought as he squinted against the blackness. All he had to guide him was the tracking sigil, and he prayed desperately that it would lead him around any obstacles… like a bottomless chasm or an underground lake.

"Sam?" Dean asked, a disembodied voice in the dark. "Sam!"

"Yeah. You with me again?"

"What… what happened? Where…?"

Sam kept forcing them both forward, not releasing Dean's arm. Though his brother sounded more with it, he was still barely supporting his own weight. "The sigil worked, but it took a lot out of you. How do you feel?"

Dean groaned. "Like… like I got punched by an archangel. Sammy, are you- did she…?"

Tightening his grip, Sam clenched his jaw. "I'm fine." ("Keep screaming, Sammy, I love that sound," the devil purred).

Silence fell, Dean seeming unwilling to contest the obvious lie, but that was just the Winchester way. Neither of them spoke again as the flat stone corridor gradually began to slant upwards. The darkness surrounding them faded to grey, and then to a hazy green as the pair could barely make out a square of light far ahead.

"Wait," Dean said, limping so heavily it was throwing off their gait. "I- I can stand."

"Yeah, bullshit. Come on, just a little further and we can rest."

Dean didn't argue, a sure sign that he really was on the brink of collapse. Sam gamely wrestled them both up the ever-steepening incline. Soon, the smooth walls became less structured and more natural. The tunnel floor shifted from flattened stone to uneven rock and the hunters emerged at last into a wide cavern.

Shafts of light filtered in from the green glow of Hell's atmosphere outside, illuminating the chamber. Sam could see that the tunnels and caves carried on much further, but something deep inside him thrummed with increased intensity. Sam's eyes widened. Cas was close.

In his grip, Dean sagged and failed to bite back a groan. Right; they'd be no help to Cas whatsoever if they tried to rescue him like this, one of them barely on his feet and the other a breath away from falling into a flashback of Lucifer's Cage. Though Sam hated to do it, he cast around quickly for a sheltered nook where they could rest out of sight.

"Okay, here we go," he murmured to Dean, guiding his worn out brother down to the ground behind a looming boulder. "Let me heal you up a bit."

"You first," Dean grumbled, eyes fluttering again as he unwound himself from Sam and laid his head heavily back against the rock. He pointed to Sam's arm. "That, then me."

"Bossy."

"Shut up, bitch. Get healing."

Sam's mouth twitched, though he was still fighting too hard to hold back the memories of his time with Lucifer to return the banter. He turned off the tracking sigil for the time being, not wanting to drain more of his own strength than necessary. Then Sam pressed the rune over his heart to once again activate the healing glow of energy. Carefully, he held a hand over his burned arm, closing his eyes as the skin smoothed and the pain faded. Lucifer's face swam into his mind, but the hunter pushed the image away.

Not now, Lucifer.

First, he had to heal his brother, get both of them rested and recovered for whatever might come next.

And then they were going to retrieve their angel and take him home.

SPN SPN SPN

Terriel paced back and forth over the silent borderlands of Hell, each footfall conjuring a puff of dust and a memory of bygone war. How long had the Winchesters been in there? At what point should he start to get concerned? Terriel glowered at the barrier to Hell. He should have just gone in with the two human souls, should have been there if his brother needed help.

Not only could the angels not afford to lose any more of their limited number, it was Castiel: one of Terriel's heroes since his fledgling years. Sitting here waiting was torturous.

"Yo, Terriel, you read me?"

The angel paused, touching his temple. "Gabriel. There's still no word. Maybe I should go in after them."

"No, not yet. But stand by. One of the chuckleheads used the emergency sigil."

Hmm. Terriel hadn't realized Gabriel would be able to feel it happen, but he also wasn't surprised. It was a direct channel to the archangel's power, after all, so it would stand to reason that he would notice his own grace being used.

"That's one down," Gabriel went on through Angel Radio. "If I feel the second one go, it means the boys are out of shots and I'm mustering whoever's left up here for war. But if anything goes south, you might be the first line of defense."

"Understood," Terriel replied immediately. He straightened his shoulders and drew his blade. Squaring off to the border of Hell, the angel narrowed his eyes. "I'll be ready."

SPN SPN SPN

Castiel couldn't help staring at the reaper. He tried to tear his eyes away; not because she would mind, at this point, but because his fellow celestial being deserved at least that much dignity. Though the wordless moans and terrified sounds had been gut-wrenching, the absolute silence now brought its own horror that left Castiel cold even in the heat of Hell. The reaper stood as though petrified. Sightless, bloody eye sockets pointed straight ahead, her bound hands not straining at the manacles. Worst was the wretched spicule driven into her forehead. As long as it was in place, the reaper might as well have been a lifeless puppet.

Castiel ripped his gaze away, turning his attention now to the rest of the chamber. It was vaguely lit by the glow of his grace swirling through the collecting vat, in addition to the ambient green glow from Hell's atmosphere, enough that his heightened vision could see the stone table close by where Laz and Vince kept their various instruments for torture and experimentation. His heart leaped when he realized his blade was sitting on the ledge. If only he could get his hands on it, the angel was certain it would be strong enough to break through the chains.

Swallowing hard, Castiel's eyes trailed reluctantly back to the reaper.

The very idea of telling her to do something—anything—was abhorrent to him. In her condition, the reaper would have no choice but to obey any request he made. Even though what he needed was simple and reasonable, something he would have asked of her regardless of the state of her will, Castiel was loathe to wield such power over another.

But that reluctance paled in comparison to the harsh reality that it was the only chance they had at escaping, and trying to shelter her now would only guarantee further abuse from Laz later. Castiel took a breath.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice falling flat even in the empty cavern. "I don't know your name. But I need you to help me." Castiel sighed. If only the reaper's hands had been restrained in front of her instead of behind, he would have simply told her to pull out the metal pin. "There's a shelf forward and to your right. My angel blade is there... see if you can reach it."

The chains connecting her collar to the vat clinked as the reaper instantly shifted to the right, shuffling in the general direction of the shelf. When she was still several feet away, the slack ran out and she jerked back with a choked grunt. The reaper immediately tried again with the same result.

"Stop!" Castiel gasped as his forehead furrowed in distress at how carefully he would have to take care of her. "Alright, it's alright."

What else? Think… Castiel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The chains were too strong to break on his own. He couldn't reach his sword. What other resources did he- oh.

Castiel inhaled with a hiss as a thought struck him. He opened his eyes again, glancing sorrowfully at the reaper. "I'm sorry," he said again, as though that really mattered to her now. "I would never ask this normally, but it may be our only chance. Reapers can't use the souls they carry for power, but angels can. I need you to give me some power from one of the souls you're ferrying. It should make me strong enough to break free."

And Father, how he hated the blankness in her face as she immediately turned and shuffled back towards the sound of his voice without a second of hesitation. It left a cramp in Castiel's gut to know that he was doing exactly what Laz would do—using the reaper as a repository of power that he could draw from himself—but this wasn't the first time he'd had to do something unsavory in order to save them all.

When the reaper had closed the distance, she twisted her back towards Castiel so she could reach with her chained hands. The slim fingers groped around until she found his ankle, wrapping around him above the fetters.

Castiel gasped at the surge of power that flooded into his being, the reaper's hands glowing at the transfer of a human soul. Within an angel, it translated to raw energy, separate from his grace. Castiel kicked and squirmed, feeling the chains start to give at last.

Finally, the angel felt the web give way and he slid to the solid rock floor, shrugging off the metal links. Even with the extra strength, the cuffs stubbornly clung to his wrists, designed to resist. Castiel dug his fingers under the manacle and pulled with all his might. He exhaled with relief as one was finally ripped away.

The other followed soon after, and then the fetters also landed with a discordant clang on the ground. Castiel rubbed at his wrists while taking stock. He'd have to free the reaper of her own chains, then find the others, and somehow get them all out of Hell before Laz and Vince returned… but he couldn't fly them all, and most of them were blind… This was going to be difficult.

But first he would need to get this wretched collar off.

Yet even as the thought crossed Castiel's mind, even as he started towards the shelf for his angel blade, the sudden clinking of the chain links went off like an alarm in his mind—a fraction of a second before he was yanked backwards by the throat.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Vince snarled, holding the other end of the chain leash as Castiel tripped to the floor. "Laz! Get in here!"

Castiel cursed and scrambled to find his feet, but the demon was already charging towards him. They both hit the ground again, punches flying in all directions, Vince's eyes feral and enraged in the dim light. If only he could just smite the damn demon… but as long as the collar was on, Castiel's grace would only be channeled away if he tried to use it. The angel glared up at the demon who had enjoyed torturing him so much.

Abandoning the wrestling match, Castiel let Vince gain the upper hand just long enough for the angel to grab the chain and lash out. The metal links were wrapped around Vince's throat before the demon knew what was happening, then Castiel pulled.

Vince gagged, eyes bugging as he released the angel and tried to yank free, but Castiel had a firm grip on the end of the chain. He watched with a glower as the demon choked and spluttered and then even those sounds died away as all air was completely cut off. Vince swiped out at the angel with no success.

Dancing backwards with Vince in tow, Castiel stretched out towards the shelf of torture instruments. His fingertips brushed the hilt of his blade and he strained desperately for just a half inch more. The demon was yanking back as hard as he could, but finally Castiel snagged the blade in his hand and flew forward.

The blade plunged into Vince's chest, illuminating the cavern with spurting white-orange, and Castiel's tormenter died without even being able to scream.

Castiel exhaled slowly. With baleful eyes, he watched as the thin shell that gave the demon his form disappeared into ash under the unprotected heat of Hell. The chains fell slack as the tension from Vince's body disappeared. One down.

Before he could even wonder where Laz had gotten to, though, the metal links rattled across the floor once again. This time, Castiel found himself hoisted into the air by the collar. The harsh metal edge dug into his throat, cutting off any shout of surprise. His legs kicked helplessly and Castiel dropped the blade by instinct as he reached up to grab the chain instead, trying to provide enough slack to breathe.

"That was a stupid move, Castiel."

Laz sounded furious and his eyes were pure black when the dangling angel twisted in the air back to face the vat. The demon held the chain tightly to keep Castiel suspended two inches off the ground, struggling for air. Beside him, the reaper stood motionless.

Castiel wanted to yell at her to run, but he couldn't get any words out from the collar that had become his noose. He wheezed in desperation.

Laz tsk-ed, then with one hand, unlocked one of the manacles that bound the reaper. "You. Hold this here, keep him hanging like that."

"N-" Castiel tried to croak out, but it did no good. He watched as Laz handed the chain leash off to the reaper, who obediently held it taut. All the extra strength he'd had was already waning, leaving him unprotected as Laz stormed towards him and scooped up the fallen angel blade.

For a second, Laz just regarded the angel with coal-black eyes. Then he curled his hand around the weapon's hilt and slammed the pommel into Castiel's unprotected side.

A strangled shout ripped up from the angel's throat, fire erupting in his chest as Laz attacked his exposed ribcage. Castiel couldn't let go of the chain or he would strangle, leaving him unable to even attempt blocking the strikes. After a third hit to his gut, Castiel finally let go with one hand, trying weakly to bat Laz away.

The demon merely grabbed his arm and held it aside, landing one more punch before snapping, "Alright, drop him."

Castiel gasped as the pressure on his throat released, but the attack had left him unprepared as he fell now to the ground. Laz was on him before he could think of struggling upright. Then everything disappeared in a haze of white agony as the tip of the angel blade plunged into Castiel's side; he screamed at the unexpected pain.

"Come here," he heard Laz order harshly, as hands closed around his wrists and yanked them over his head, pinning him to the rocky floor. "Towards my voice."

Castiel fought weakly, glaring at the demon straddling his abused torso. When he heard the shuffling movements, he tipped his head back to see the reaper approaching. Castiel opened his mouth but nothing came out when Laz dug a knee into the wound in his side. Stars burst in his vision as Castiel gasped in wordless pain.

"Good. Get down here. Hold him down, tight."

The weight shifted as the reaper's hands replaced Laz's, then the demon was half off of Castiel as he reached out of sight. Castiel's eyes widened as Laz moved back on top of him with a long, thin metal spike in hand.

"No!" he choked out. "Don't let him-"

Laz's hand covered his mouth to muffle the order, and the reaper didn't move. Her grip was unbreakable, pinning Castiel's wrists over his head to the floor, while the demon's body weight left Castiel trapped.

For several heartbeats, Laz just waited, smirking down at the pinioned angel. Castiel knew it was so that he would feel the agony of the helplessness, the frank horror of being unable to stop what was about to happen. Not again… how many times in his life could his free will be ripped away from him? And here in the bowels of Hell, held in a demon's clutches to whom he would unwittingly provide the power to destroy everything he loved…

Castiel tried one last time to rip himself free, but could do nothing as the spike flew down towards his head.

He knew nothing more.

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH again, everyone responding to this story. You have no idea how much I value and cherish the feedback :)