I am so glad Cas is back! I can't believe this season is coming to an end. I'm going to be so sad when it's over.
Sad face.
=(
Oh, and if you haven't noticed, I decided to name the chapters. I get tired of looking at numbers.
Sonneillon twirls the blade in his hand as he stares down at Castiel with gleaming eyes.
"You're a small one, aren't you?"
Castiel can't bring himself to disagree. He's dirty and wet from when he was dragged though puddles formed by the water dripping from the ceiling and he's curled into the corner because he's…cold. He's cold. This new sensation unsettles him a bit because he isn't supposed to get cold. Even if his shirt is open and his suit jacket is missing –
Wait…what?
Castiel looks down at himself. He still has on his trench coat, but his shirt is unbuttoned, revealing some kind of sigil cut into the smooth skin of his torso. The flesh is inflamed and it throbs slightly. Castiel's eyes narrow and he glares up at the demon before him.
"What have you done to me?"
Sonneillon merely grins.
"I just…locked your grace up somewhere tight." He squats in front of the angel and smirks when Castiel presses himself back into the corner, a look of disgust crossing his face. "Right…" He prods Castiel's chest. "Here." Sonneillon keeps his finger pressed to his captive and after a moment a searing pain overtakes Castiel and he cries out, calling on his grace instinctively to separate himself from the demon. This proves as a mistake. Something inside of him burns like acid and his grace rebels, flaring painfully. Castiel shivers violently and abandons his attempt, chest heaving with every labored breath.
"Don't strain yourself, kiddo. Can't wear yourself out before we get to the real fun, hm?" Sonneillon pats Castiel's shoulder before straightening up. He looks around, examining his whereabouts like he's noticing it for the first time. "Its way too dark in here," he comments absently. The demon claps his hand twice and light floods the room, making Castiel's pupils shrink to adjust to the brightness. Sonneillon then turns to Castiel again. "Well, come on. Move out of that corner." Castiel glares defiantly at the demon, who sighs and clucks his tongue in admonishment.
"Always have to do things the hard way, don't you?"
Castiel is no longer chained to the wall. The cuffs are now only around each of his wrists and they link together by a steel bar in the middle, keeping Castiel's arms out in front of him. From the bar extends a chain, the end of which is in Sonneillon's hand. He gives it a hard tug, dragging Castiel towards him. The angel puts up a fight, rearing back with what little strength he has, but Sonneillon narrows his eyes and the same white hot pain envelops Castiel again, stronger this time. He drops on his side, clutching his stomach as he folds himself tightly into his vessel, trying to lessen the pain in anyway he can. He doesn't resist when Sonneillon pulls him across the hard concrete, he stays on his side with his arms tight against his stomach as he's dragged closer and closer to his enemy. As soon as he's close enough Sonneillon's hand shoots out and grips Castiel by his dark hair, jerking his head back and exposing the pale skin of his throat.
"You know…" Sonneillon traces the tip of his blade along Castiel's neck, right under his jaw and along his Adam's apple. "I can carve a sigil here and make it so that every time you speak a newborn baby dies." He pauses to dig in the razor deeper, watching as a trickle of blood wells up to run down the angel's collar bone. "Hm...Or maybe I could tear out your larynx and replace it with one from a horse. That would be interesting, wouldn't it?" He grins down at Castiel and places the gleaming metal to the side of his neck. "But right now I'd rather hear you scream…" Just as Sonneillon begins to break skin a powerful gale forms in the middle of the room.
"Let him go, Sonneillon."
Seraphiel's gaze is hard as he stares down the demon. Sonneillon releases Castiel and stands up, holding his arms out in welcome.
"Seraphiel! It's been a while, hasn't it? What have you been up to lately? Still playing your little harp and being the model choir boy, hm?"
Castiel has dragged himself back against the wall, watching the scene unfold with slight confusion. Have Seraphiel and Sonneillon met before? His brother never mentioned it…
"All those millennia of praise, look at where that got you." Sonneillon's visage suddenly becomes vicious and his eyes glow with a red light, his features shifting into something that is horrid and truly demonic. Castiel instinctively stiffens at the waves of pure evil emanating from Sonneillon.
"Daddy's abandoned you, and you don't know what the hell you're doing, do you?"
A carefully blank mask slips over Seraphiel's features at the demon's words. Castiel isn't sure how strong Sonneillon is, but if he doesn't stop baiting Seraphiel he might not live much longer. He sneers at the seraph spitefully, and it is easy to see why he is labeled the demon of hate.
"Where is your God now, hm? Where is He? I'll go ahead and spare you trouble of trying to look for Him." He grins in sick gleefulness and lowers his voice as if he is telling the world's most important secret. "He's dead." He breaks out into maniacal laughter that sends chills shooting down Castiel's spine. Castiel chances a look at Seraphiel and realizes that the entire city is in immediate danger.
A boiling fury sparks in Seraphiel's eyes and Sonneillon is flung back into a wall, the audible crack of his head meeting concrete echoing in the room.
"Hold thy tongue, vile creature!"
Seraphiel's true voice rocks the room, and it's the sound of crackling wildfires, thunderstorms, and hurricanes. His wings have burst out of his vessel, brilliant in their red and orange hues, flowing and dancing in the way a wild flame would in the wind. They span out towards each end of the room, scorching the walls with their radiance and basking this decrepit place in holy light. It is glorious, and Seraphiel looks magnificent as he stands erect in the center of it all, a figure of power and fierceness. His skin is glowing with Heaven's strength and Castiel can't tear his eyes away from his brother as Seraphiel begins to speak in a voice that can only belong to a defender of God's throne.
"Thou art no more worthy than the lowest of insects before the glory of the Almighty Father! His holy name will never be tarnished again by thy wicked mouth, for I shall smite thee into oblivion!"
The room is still shaking with the power echoed from Seraphiel's words, and then Sonneillon does something that has probably never happened before in a situation like this.
He laughs.
Castiel watches, opened mouthed as Sonneillon laughs at the infinitely powerful being before him. The demon wipes fake tears from his eyes and chuckles.
"That holy bullshit doesn't work with me, brother."
No…
Sonneillon notices the shocked expression on Castiel's face and suddenly he's laughing again.
"This is priceless! Yeah Cas, I'm your brother. I shouldn't be surprised that Seraphiel never filled you in. I'm not exactly good with the family, you know."
Castiel looks to Seraphiel for confirmation. The elder angel doesn't look at his young brother, only at Sonneillon, distaste showing clearly on his features. Castiel supposes this is the only answer he'll get right now.
"I was cast out, not long after Lucifer, so this was before your time, Cas. But here's the kicker; Seraphiel was the one who threw me out!" He pauses to snicker, "We just didn't see eye to eye. I was on Lucifer's side because he was right. Why should we have to bow down to these sniveling apes? God must have been on some good drugs when he created the mud monkeys because they are so flawed it's hard to even look at them. Humans and all their technology and eco-friendly shit; trying to make it seem like they're so advanced and intelligent. It makes. Me. Sick. Lucifer is right. They should bow to us, not the other way around. I want Lucifer to win this war, and the only obstacle in our way is Dean Winchester. So I decided to go after someone important to him in the hopes that I could break his spirit. No such luck." Sonneillon's words are laced with so much hate and disgust and Castiel can't understand how all of that can belong to one being, especially one who was an angel.
"Now, Seraphiel didn't rip my wings out of my back like Michael did with Lucifer, but after a while in Hell they just kind of…shriveled up. I'm barely an angel anymore. But hey, that's okay with me. Once I get things ready I'll get my reward."
Castiel's brain is trying futilely to register all of this information as Seraphiel advances on Sonneillon like a panther, deadly and powerful. The fallen angel backs up until his back is flush against the wall and Seraphiel stops with two feet separating them.
"What things? What are you planning?" Seraphiel's voice has returned to that of a human's, but that does not lessen the strength radiating from him. Sonneillon leers at the angel.
"Well…I suppose I can tell you now, since I've already taken over this city. If you weren't so busy focusing on little old me, you might have noticed that I've been sending hordes of demons straight out of Hell into this city through a portal not far away." Seraphiel's eyes gleam in anger and Sonneillon smirks triumphantly. "Looks like…you loose." His cackle is cut short as Seraphiel's hand darts out like a snake, catching his throat in a tight grip. "Go ahead. Send me back to Hell. This'll be a trip down memory lane, hm?" Seraphiel growls low in his throat in response and squeezes hard, crushing Sonneillon's windpipe. Somehow, he still manages to speak. "Lucifer will be waiting for me there anyway, and he'll be extremely pleased that I've got this city ready for him. So send me back. You'll be doing me a favor." Seraphiel stiffens in rage.
"Thy sins require a different punishment. Thou will not be sent to Hell, nor any other plane of existence. I shall destroy thee completely. Thou will cease to exist."
The smug looks drops of Sonneillon's face in an instant and fear quickly replaces it.
"No, brother, I can help you, I can –"
Seraphiel presses one hand against Sonneillon's forehead and the thing barely passing for an angel shrieks as he's burned from the inside out by holy fire. There is a blinding light and when it clears, all that is left of Sonneillon is a pile of ashes. Seraphiel lowers his head and exhales deeply, and as the air escapes his lungs his wings flicker and disappear. The room returns to its dull existence and all is quiet. Castiel doesn't dare move as Seraphiel stands in silent concentration. Then he feels the shackles disappear from his wrists and he looks up to find his brother's gaze on him.
"Come, Castiel. Lucifer will notice what has happened and we cannot afford that encounter."
The rest doesn't need to be spoken. As powerful as Seraphiel is, he is still no match for the Morning Star. So Castiel stands and walks on shaky legs towards his brother, who rests a hand on his shoulder. Slight tendrils of power slip over Castiel from the older angel's hand. Turning to look up at Seraphiel, Castiel voices his question, "How will we find Sam and Dean?"
Detroit is crawling with demons. They're everywhere; in supermarkets, on the streets, they're even climbing up the fucking billboards. And Sam and Dean are smack dab in the middle of it. After Seraphiel got angelnapped the brothers decided to keep driving and made it into the city, hoping to find some trace of either one of the angels. Instead, they find hundreds of demons and burning buildings and total destruction.
"Dean, behind you!" Dean whips around at Sam's warning and stabs a demon with Ruby's knife. He then tosses it to Sam, who kills another one. They're in the middle of the street and they're hopelessly surrounded on all sides. Dean really doesn't want to die here, but that's looking like how this will turn out. Dean turns to Sam and sees the same recognition in his eyes as he fights his way over to him.
"Dean, listen, I – " He kills another demon and Dean nails one in the head with a crowbar. "Dean, I'm sorry."
The older Winchester pauses. He punches a demon hard across the face and barely notices the crack of his knuckles as he hears Sam spill his guts about the demon blood and all of the other shit he'd been doing behind his back.
"I'm sorry, Dean. I don't think we're getting out of this one alive, and I guess it takes something like this to finally kick me in the ass." He throws the knife to Dean and lashes out with on long leg, catching a demon in the ribs. "I just want to fix things. If we do get out of this, I want you to know that I'm done with all of that. For good."
Dean swallows and thrusts the knife up into his target's eye socket. He opens his mouth to respond, but a flashing light appears and the demons surrounding the hunters shriek and they burst into flames. They run around on fire like chickens with their heads cut off until they drop dead. The Winchesters blink and find themselves in a very expensive hotel room, a suite by the looks of it. They stand there, confused at the sudden change in scenery.
"I found Castiel."
At Seraphiel's voice and the mention of Cas, Sam and Dean turn to see said angels standing behind them. Castiel is leaning slightly against Seraphiel, who's features are tight. Dean is the first to react, taking Castiel by the arm and leading him sit on one of the plush beds.
"Hey buddy, good to see you." Dean starts to look over Cas, and Sam turns to Seraphiel.
"How did you find us? And what's with all those demons back there?"
Seraphiel doesn't look like he wants to be interrogated at the moment, but he answers Sam's question in a patient voice.
"I tracked the necklaces I gave you. Those demons were summoned by Sonneillon, and he is the one that took Castiel. I've taken care of him, but not before he completed his plan, which was to get Detroit ready for Lucifer. I suppose he needed a city in which to call a base, somewhere to build off from."
"Why is he shaking?" Dean asks, frowning worriedly as he looks down at Castiel. Apparantly he hasn't listened to a word Seraphiel has said. "And where are the rest of his clothes?" All attention is turned to the damp and slightly shivering angel on the bed.
"Sonneillon has branded him with a sigil." Seraphiel comes over to the bed and nudges Dean out of the way, slightly amused when the hunter immediately crowds in close again.
"What are you going to do to him?" Dean demands.
"Do not worry, this will not hurt him."
Castiel looks up at Seraphiel as the older angel presses one hand on top of his head. Seraphiel closes his eyes and begins muttering a string of foreign sounding words rapidly. Sam moves to stand beside Dean, listening intently.
"Enochian," he mumbles helpfully. Dean nods absently, watching as the angry red lines covering Castiel's chest start to vanish before his eyes. Seraphiel continues to speak quickly, stopping when Castiel's skin is unmarked. He removes his hand and waves it. Castiel is now dry and fully clothed again as he sits there in all his holy tax accountant glory.
"Thank you, Seraphiel." He says.
Seraphiel nods and steps back a little. Sensing what is about to happen, Dean lurches forward and latches his hand onto Seraphiel's shoulder.
"Whoa, what's the rush? How about you tell us what the hell is going on before you take off?"
A displeased expression greets Dean and the hunter is surprised with how easily Seraphiel's face can be read. While it is easier to judge the angel's emotions at the moment, Dean thinks he prefers Castiel's often blank expression. It was familiar and Dean could read Castiel well enough without expressions.
"Michael found me."
The room is quiet. Then it explodes into a flurry of raised voices:
"Son of a bitch! Fuck!"
"How the hell did he find us? Is he coming back?"
"Where is he now, Seraphiel? Can he find us again?"
"Goddamn angels, always screwing things up!"
"I take offense to that, Dean."
"Oh, sorry Cas. I didn't mean that –"
Seraphiel sighs and waits until everyone falls silent again before continuing.
"It was my fault. I did not put much effort in hiding myself from Michael because I didn't expect him to look for me. The marks on your ribs still prevent other angels from finding you; he just tracked me down while I happened to be with you. It is good that he did not try to take you, Dean. I am sorry for putting you in danger."
"It's okay, I guess. He can't find us, so we're good, right?" Dean stiffens at the angel's silence. "Right, Seraphiel?"
"Not necessarily. Now we have Lucifer to worry about. If Sonneillon was working on a stronghold for him, he could surface at any day now. This does not bode well for all of us."
Castiel, who has been sitting quietly up to this point, cuts in sharply. "Can I have a word with you, brother?"
Seraphiel meets icy blue eyes and nods. The angels disappear, leaving two pissed off hunters behind.
"I don't even know where to begin! How come you didn't tell me about Sonneillon? And what does Michael want?" The two angels are on the roof of the hotel as the sun beats down on them from above. Castiel is furious. Seraphiel doesn't respond to his yelling. A weariness has settled itself into the seraph from the moment Michael left him. He knows that he has been abandoned by his elder brother. He has not been cast out of Heaven, but he realizes that Michael will have nothing to do with him unless he wants to help get Dean to say yes. A part of him wants to, just so that all of this can be over. But now he's starting to realize what Castiel sees in these humans. Yes, they are flawed and they are not the most intelligent of creatures at times, but they try, and there is some allure to the desperate way in which they spend their short lives to try and give it meaning.
"Sonneillon was before your time. I did not think it mattered where he came from, only that I destroy him."
Castiel lets out a small huff of air. "You still should have told me."
"You are right. I am sorry."
Castiel pauses at the quickness of Seraphiel's apology. He notices that his brother's essence isn't shining as brightly today. He has dimmed greatly and he seems frayed around the edges. Castiel looks at Seraphiel, looks at him in the way how angels identify each other. They don't see physical characteristics, only their inner selves, their grace. Each angel's grace is different and it reflects their very essence. Castiel's is a cool blue, light and wisp-like. Normally Seraphiel's is usually very vibrant, but something is troubling him and that taints his grace.
"What has happened to you, brother? Is it Michael?" Castiel knows that Seraphiel has a deep respect for his elder brothers, even Gabriel, who disappeared a very long time ago.
"Michael has left me."
Seraphiel's voice is flat, but Castiel knows how wrecked he must feel. Castiel was left behind also.
"Did…did he cut you off?"
Seraphiel shakes his head.
"No…but he does not want anything to do with me." The stirring of emotion cracks across his features and Castiel can't believe that Seraphiel was brimming with all the brilliance of Heaven not even an hour ago. "I don't understand. I was only trying to help. I just want everything back to normal."
It's like witnessing a dam break. Castiel watches forlornly as Seraphiel's control slips and shatters like china glass.
"I want Father back, I want Gabriel and Lucifer and I want us all to be happy. Why can't it be like that anymore? Why do they all leave?" Castiel looks down and inhales softly as his brother's broken voice and withering essence fills his senses. "I don't know what else to do." Seraphiel's hands clench and unclench as he stands there. The sun above them dims a little. Castiel sighs.
"Seraphiel –"
"Leave."
Castiel knows an order when he hears one. He glances up at his brother before vanishing. Seraphiel dips his head and breathes out a word that is carried away on the breeze.
"Iad."
He crosses his arms over his chest and he prays, because that is what he was created to do and it is all he knows.
Inside the hotel Castiel watches as Dean and Sam try to mend their broken bond and he knows that Michael is wrong.
So, angels really have one screwed up family. I'm going to try and make the next chapter a little lighter. Possibly. Don't forget to tell me what you think!