Burden of Sacrifice
lawnmowerelf
When Lindsey started working Dean couldn't help but think that the whole thing was somewhat anticlimactic. A few symbols drawn on the floor with chalk, a quick sprinkle of the rosemary oil and a few phrases in Latin was apparently all that was necessary to open a portal to hell, which seemed just a little too easy to Dean. Not that he wanted it to be complicated right at the moment, but it was the principle of the thing.
The moment Lindsey finished speaking ripples began to form in the air above the chalked symbols until there was what looked like a jagged tear in reality a few inches taller than Sam. If Dean squinted he could just make out a dull reddish haze on the other side of the tear, but nothing more distinct.
Once the tear finally settled, Lindsey flashed them a small smile. "Go get him, boys. I'll be waiting to pull you out the minute Sam gives a tug."
Dean nodded, then turned to Sam. "You ready to walk into hell, Sammy?"
Sam snorted. "You take me to the nicest places, Dean. You think after we get Dad back we can go on vacation somewhere nicer? Maybe the beach or something?"
Dean grinned and shook his head. "Yeah, Sam. I think we can manage that."
Dean had no idea what to expect when he and Sam stepped through the portal, but what they found was definitely odd. True, the air was hot and dry and smelled of sulfur, but that was really all that seemed even slightly hellish. They were in a room that looked like it went on forever, filled with nothing but rows and rows of shelves that went all the way from the floor to about a foot over Sam's head. It was almost like standing in the library version of a hedge maze, completely unable to see where anything was in relation to anything else.
"This is...different."
Sam nodded, eyes wide as he glanced around the huge room. "I know Lindsey said that there were all sorts of different hells, but this is definitely not what I was expecting. What would Dad be doing here?"
Dean shrugged, then his attention was caught by what was sitting on the shelves: row upon row of faintly glowing orbs. "Um, I think I figured that part out, Sammy."
Sam turned, eyebrows going up when he finally noticed the orbs. "You think he's in one of those?"
"I don't know how, but I just know. It's kinda weird, actually." Dean rubbed a hand over his face and grimaced. "It's gonna take us forever to find him, though. There must be thousands of these orbs in here."
Before Sam could say anything they heard a noise coming from around the nearby corner. Eyes wide, they both ducked behind one of the shelves, crouching down and peering carefully around the edge. A moment later an extremely large demon came into view and began looking over one of the shelves.
The demon was easily a foot taller than Sam, with dark red leathery looking skin and a pair of short horns protruding from its forehead. Once it found the orb it was looking for it grinned, showcasing a mouthful of sharp yellow teeth and the tip of a forked tongue. It placed the orb into a pouch that was hanging from its belt and walked back the way it had come, whistling something off-tune and bobbing its head to the beat.
Once it was gone Sam and Dean looked at each other with identical dumbfounded expressions on their faces. "This place just gets weirder and weirder."
Sam shook his head with a frown. "It's hell, Dean. I think its supposed to be weird. Now, how are we going to find Dad in here?"
Dean frowned in thought, chewing absently on his lower lip. "I don't suppose these orbs are labeled or anything, are they? I mean, demon boy had to be able to figure out which orb he wanted somehow."
Sam shrugged, stepping around Dean so that he could get a closer look at the orbs. "I suppose there would have to be some sort of cataloging system. We just need to figure it out and not get caught."
"Right. We just need to figure out how they organize things in hell. That'll be a snap, no problem." Dean grimaced, then absently reached out to touch one of the orbs.
The moment his hand made contact his head jerked back in pain and his teeth clenched in an attempt to hold in a scream. An instant later Sam was behind him and holding Dean up while yanking his hand away from the orb.
"Dean! What the hell happened?"
Dean shook his head violently, small tremors beginning to shake his entire body. "That was seriously not fun. Whatever you do, Sammy, do not touch any of those things. You hear me?"
Sam nodded, carefully easing Dean down to the floor and crouching down behind him in support. "I won't, Dean. I promise. Now, are you okay?"
Dean started to nod, then changed his mind and shook his head. "You know why this doesn't look like hell, Sammy? Because hell is inside those orbs. One soul per orb, and each one is that poor sap's own personal hell. And Dad's stuck in one of them."
Sam just squeezed Dean's shoulder. "We'll get him out, Dean. You know we will." Once it looked like Dean was steady he pushed back to his feet and moved towards the nearest shelf. After a long moment of study, he frowned. "I can't find any sort of label anywhere on here, Dean."
Dean slowly got to his feet and began pacing. "Maybe we can use these tattoo things to find Dad. I mean, you can feel me in your head, right?"
Sam nodded. "And from the way you were poking at me earlier you can feel me too. But that's because of the blood in the ink."
"I know, Sam. But we both share Dad's blood, so why can't we use that connection to try to find him? Focus on feeling for something that's like you and me, but different?"
Sam just shrugged. "It can't hurt to try, I guess."
Dean smiled, slapping Sam on the back. "That's the spirit, Sam. Now, try to focus on Dad the same way you'd focus on me." Once he was sure that Sam was following his instructions Dean closed his eyes. He brushed past the Sam-spark in his mind, only touching it long enough to get a feel for it, before turning his attention outward.
He could feel pain radiating from all around him, from all of the souls trapped in the orbs, but there was nothing personal to the sensation, just a general sense of pain and hopelessness. It was almost overwhelming until Dean caught a hint of something different lurking at the edge of his mind.
The pain and despair were incredibly strong in that particular soul, but they hadn't quite managed to snuff out the small flicker of defiance that felt intimately familiar to Dean. A hint of strength that practically shouted 'Dad' in Dean's mind.
His eyes snapped open, and Dean grabbed Sam's arm and began pulling him through the aisles, following the thin thread of Dad-ness towards a dark corner that had been mostly hidden in shadow. Sam kept quiet, seemingly content to just follow Dean's lead. Then, after jogging around the shelves until they were out of breath Dean stopped in front of an orb that rather than just glowing faintly actually flickered, occasionally growing brighter and changing colors.
"Is that...?"
Dean nodded, eyes never leaving the flickering orb. "Yeah, Sammy. That's Dad."
