Chapter 10

The smell of Fire burned in Sam's nose... The stench of burnt flesh so horribly familiar but so alien that it came from him... He hugged Castiel's limp body tight, laying huddled together in the farthest corner of the room. Sam's arms were in agony, his hands numb, his shoulders, down were swollen and purple. He had opened Castiel's cage with his mouth, he even managed to remove the gag, the metal had cut into the angel's cheeks and sliced his tongue. Castiel wasn't conscious, unsurprisingly. Sam didn't like the color of his skin, the dull grey skin made his dirty hair stand out.

Sam shut his eyes tight, his body trembling. His hair was gone. John and Dean always teased Sam for his long hair. Dean even trimmed it once but never once did they force him to cut it. And now it was gone… his skin charred and oh so painful, and infected. He should really be dead. He would be without the Demon blood…

Castiel shifted against him, raising his head weakly. He opened his mouth, dried blood flaking off his mouth.

"Sam." The Angel sat up as best as he could, his arms and wings pinned to his body.

"Hey, Cas…" Sam leaned back, hissing.

"You look awful." Castiel commented.

Sam snorted softly looking down at the horrid bruising and burns, "You don't look much better…" looking at Castiel's bruising and mutilated wings.

"Yes well… I will heal with time." Castiel squirmed in the barbaric harness, not meeting Sam's eyes.

"Don't give me that, Cas." Sam glared his head pounding, "That demon blood… it can't be doing anything good."

"No. It's killing me." Castiel always was blunt.

"How long do you think you have?" Sam watched Castiel through hooded eyes.

"Days…" Cas shrugged, wincing.

Sam smiled softly, closing his eyes, breathing hurt. "Me too."

"Sam… don't you give up. We still have a chance. The angels are out there." Castiel leaned forward, wishing his arms weren't trapped.

"Cas, it's too late. And you know it. And given the chance… most of them would leave me here. I just want Dean." Sam's lungs suddenly seemed to constrict. Dean.

The smell of thunderstorms and Sulphur made Castiel look towards the door.

"Demons." Castiel whispered.

The building shook above them, the lights rattling and the door cracked. Sam moaned as the sounds drummed through his head. Castiel lowered himself to the ground, as quietly as possible. "Sam. Lay down."

Sam didn't need to be told twice. Feeling decades younger, Sam tucked himself into a ball, his body seizing with the amount of pain. Cas laying close by, forever the Winchesters guardian. The floor was blessedly cold, though it shook every couple seconds. Closing his eyes, Sam slipped into oblivion, Cas following , after giving the only Winchester a pained look.

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Dean was walking through the halls of the establishment. It looked like a hospital but every once in a while it would give a glimpse of its true purpose. Experimentation… Gabriel walked on his left, and Mary on his right. Gabriel was leading them up to the room that reeked of Angel Grace. He should be there… Dean could hardly stop himself from running, but they couldn't afford to be taken by surprise. The hellhound had almost taken Dean out in one swipe. Crowley and a group of "Trustworthy" demons were searching each room. Putting down or releasing whatever they found inside. Ironically, Lucifer had agreed to help, and without a vessel, was sweeping through the halls at top speed. Dean didn't understand why Lucifer was acting so upset. But Dean would take all the help he could get. The other angels and demons were taking care of the "British Men Of Letters".

"Here, Dean." Gabriel opened a door at the very end of the hall as high up as you could get. The room made Dean's stomach churn, they obviously never cleaned up anything spilt by his brothers…

Gabriel cursed out loud when he came to the cot, black fuzzy down feathers lay in random spots on the bed. Dean was hypnotized by the gorgeous color to the feathers. Reaching out and touching one, the black feather shined with greens, blues and purples, the feather felt like the purest silk. Dean turned when he heard his mom gasp. Then Dean got a good look at where they kept Sam. Mary was on her knees touching a delicate and mostly burnt chunk of chocolate brown hair. Her hand was over her mouth, her eyes trailing up to the hanging chains. They looked rusted but Dean could tell it was dried blood. The fire in the pit of Dean's belly roared.

Never before had Dean wanted to use Alistair's training so bad on a human…