Do I really need to type these painful words again? Sam and Dean do not belong to me and I doubt they ever will, but I can still use my brain to "enhance" their story!
.~o()o~.
"Where are we Cas?" Dean yelled as he gazed around at the desert.
"Sam is close," Castiel replied.
"You better take me to where he is right now."
"I can't take you any further. Look around at the desert, you see those mounds?" At Dean's nod, Castiel continued. "Every single one of those mounds forms a symbol, like the Nazca lines in Peru, and each one of those symbols keeps me from entering the place where Sam is being held."
"I thought you said Sam was being held by an angel, why would he lock himself out of his own prison?"
"I don't know Dean, this is something different. I know Tahariel is behind this, but there is something off. He doesn't seem to be vulnerable to certain things thzt he should be," Castiel sighed.
"Great, an angel with frigging immunity and he cancels out your mojo. Show me the way to go and I will get him myself."
"There is no entrance Dean. You would have to dig through 25 feet of solid rock to reach the place he has taken Sam."
"Damn it Cas, you give me a way to get to my brother or I will do my level best to pound you into the ground and right through those 25 feet of solid rock where you can land on the angel and bust him in half with your hard head," Dean spoke softly, his voice turning deadly in anger.
"If you destroy them, I can get you through."
"All of them?" Cas nodded and Dean heaved a mournful sigh. "Let's do it then." Dean strode over to the nearest mound and began to dig at it with his bare hands. He raised one eyebrow as he looked back over his shoulder. "You coming?"
"I can't touch them Dean," Castiel said expressionlessly.
"Well, then you better conjure me up a shovel or something. We are wasting time."
Castiel disappeared and reappeared with a shovel in his hands. Dean wordlessly snatched it from his hands and drove it into the side of the first mound. For the next several hours, there was only the sound of Dean grunting as he tossed shovels full of dirt and the occasional word from Cas when a symbol was sufficiently mutilated to let him pass.
They were about halfway through when the angel put his hand on Dean's shoulder and stopped him. "I am sorry Dean, we are too late, Sam is gone."
Dean shook off Castiel's hand angrily. "Not when we are so close, even if his body is the only thing we bring back, I need to get to him. Besides, what if you are wrong? What if this is a trick? I need to know for sure." And then he turned back to his digging, ignoring the weeping red blisters on his palms, denying the headache that pounded behind his eyes from dehydration, overlooking the trembling in his arms and legs from exhaustion.
Cas looked on with sorrow in his eyes. He had felt Sam's heart stop.
.~o()o~.
Sam gasped and sat up. Frantically, he looked down at his forearms but, although the blood still stained them and pooled around him on the ground, only scars remained, twisted, ropy and lumpy scars, but his skin was sealed and blood pumped through his veins where it belonged.
"It was close that time," Steve spoke from the darkness.
"You should have let me stay dead," Sam whispered, exhausted.
"Sorry Sammy, I like you, I really do. You're very strong and you really have been taking this like a man, but I like my own life too and it won't be worth much if I let you slip through my fingers."
"I'm not going to change my mind," Sam snarled. "You are better off telling Lucifer that the angel killed me and scattered my atoms to the four winds than admitting you failed to change my mind."
"How about this? I will give you one more round with Tahariel, and if you can resist, I will release you from your body. I will let you die." Steve smiled one more obnoxious grin before his features grew calm.
"It's so sad, how deep this stain goes, deeper than bone, than blood. This blackness taints your very soul. Perhaps we can cleanse you through prayer and meditation."
"If prayer worked, I wouldn't be tainted at all," Sam scoffed. "You have no idea how many times I begged God to take this away, but I guess it is just my burden to bear."
"I am certain you prayed to the best of your abilities," Tahariel said gently. "But distractions get in the way of your devotion. I will make sure nothing can distract you from the condition of your soul and your reconciliation with my father."
Sam felt a tightening sensation around his hands and feet. He looked down and saw that the stone had shifted, flowing like liquid around his extremities. He struggled but he was held fast and the stone was creeping upward, pulling him to lie on his back as it encased his body. He screamed frantically as the grey crept up his arms and legs, but when it reached his torso, he had the presence of mind to suck in a huge breath, expanding his ribcage to its capacity.
The stone covered his head and he was entirely cocooned in it. At first, he was afraid to breathe, afraid that the rock would settle the moment he exhaled, leaving him unable to draw in another breath, afraid there would be no air and he would suffocate in this prison of rock.
Finally, as bright stars began to flash behind his eyelids, he had to take in a breath. He nearly sobbed in relief when he opened his mouth and could feel air rushing into his lungs once again.
He lay there for a moment, enjoying the way the air moved in and out without obstruction until he realized it was the only thing he could feel. He had been effectively sealed off from all forms of physical stimuli. His fingers were splayed out and separated by stone, no part of his body was touching another and the stone was perfectly smooth and normal body temperature so he couldn't feel it touching his skin. He couldn't move a muscle, he couldn't hear a thing and the stone covered his eyes.
He screamed again. He could feel the vibrations in his throat, but he couldn't even hear the sound of his own voice. Suddenly, the chamber that appeared to leave him with ample room to breathe closed in on him. He began to hyperventilate, not able to fight the embrace of the stone. Bright flashing lights burst before his eyes again. Salty tears pooled in his eye sockets with nowhere to go, unable even to slide down his cheek.
His vision was now filled with psychedelic starbursts and other vivid hallucinations. He knew he was panicking, but he couldn't slow his breathing, couldn't stop fighting until finally everything was swallowed by blackness and his consciousness ebbed away.
.~o()o~.
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