Once you're inside, you'll have to work fast," Tessa warned Castiel who hissed as she dragged the angel blade on his chest, slicing open another line of crimson. "The sigil will fade once your grace starts to heal this vessel."

"Why aren't we doing this with a simple knife?" Castiel asked his voice strained more than usual, courtesy of holding back gasps.

Tessa looked up at him dumbfounded. "We need this sigil to last long. Your grace will heal a simple knife wound like that." She snapped her fingers in his face and resumed the working on the sigil.

When Tessa had agreed to help Castiel save Sam, she put up her condition. She would only help Castiel in and out of the cage. Going inside the cage and pulling Sam out was something Castiel had to do on his own. The angel still had the horsemen rings. He had suggested using those to open the Cage but Tessa had instantly shunned that 'reckless and stupid' idea saying that Lucifer would spring out of the Cage like Jack in the Box even before they finish reciting the spell.

"If we're going to breach the bars of the cage, we'll have to do it subtly, we cannot ring the bell and warn the Devil we are coming", she explained.

So in the next few days, they searched for ways to get into the cage. It was proving next to impossible to breach the cage without causing apocalypse 2.0. They wasted more days in searching and each day Tessa reminded him that Sam's condition was deteriorating if it hadn't already. Finally, they came across an ancient sigil that claimed to let the person invade the cage undetected. Of course, it was one of those things that hadn't been tried and came with no guarantee whatsoever.

"If the Cage detects your presence it can either destroy you or hold you its prisoner. Are ready for that Castiel?" Tessa had asked and the concern for him after their very little acquaintance was really humorous.

"I'm going to save, Sam, whatever the consequences," Castiel said surprising himself. What had started as a mission to resurrect a hunter turned to into rescue operation for a dear friend. Human emotions still surprised him.

They plotted and mapped every nook, corner, crack and crevice of Hell. It involved capturing demons at random and irregular pattern and torturing that information from them. The randomness and irregularity of demon abductions kept Crowley off their trail. Having Crowley's attention on the carrot called purgatory helped evade his snake eyes. After spending another week on the strategy, they had finally devised a safe -if you could still call it that- plan to pull Sam out.

It required weakening Castiel's grace which otherwise would have acted as a beacon, attracting unnecessary attention from the demons. Even in the weak state, his grace was strong for his human vessel, which was why they decided to carve the sigil at the final moment.

Here they were, in close proximity of the residence of Heaven's fallen and Hell's ruler. Tessa had already finished carving the sigil on Castiel's chest and was dropping other ingredients needed for the spell in the center of the pentagram that was drawn from the angel's blood and grace.

"Castiel, this is no child's play. Do you really want to do this?" Tessa tried to talk him out of this madness one last time. "For all we know, the Sam we know and love might not be there anymore."

As if on the cue, a bone-chilling scream echoed through the passages of Hell. It filled the gloomy ambiance and bounced off the somber caverns. It was Sam's.

"I cannot leave him there. I have to do this." His mind was set and nothing or no one was going to change that.

"Alright then", she said. "You remember what you have to do?"

"I must refrain from the urge to heal to Sam, no matter his suffering. Stay hidden from Lucifer's sight and wait for Sam's life to end. Draw this same sigil, and jailbreak Sam."

"Good Luck, Castiel."

Another scream whistled around them breaking goosebumps all over their bodies.

"Hold on, Sam. I'm coming for you."

-SPN-

Even after existing since before the dawn of time, Castiel had seen his share of cruelty and blood baths and massacre that should have been enough to prepare him for the sight he witnessed in the Cage. How wrong and foolish was he to think that?

Castiel ached deep inside at the sight of Sam. He was beyond recognition. The irony was: the blood and the wounds covering his face had nothing to do with that; it was his soul that was unrecognizable.

Sam was lying face down and bound to a metal table. His back was skinned raw, bleeding and the muscles ripped clean off the bones. Something white was sticking out of his bloodied back. It was one of the ribs, he realized in great horror.

Everything inside the angel was screaming at him to butt heads with the archangel, to shove him away from Sam's writhing form and bury him six worlds deeper into Hell. But instead, he was just a silent observer to the gory carnage playing out in front of him.

He loathed that he had stand witness to Sam's suffering. 'Whatever Lucifer is doing to Sam, you cannot interfere. You must wait for Lucifer to be done with him.' The reaper's words rang like alarm bells in his head. Resignation washed over him and he decided to wait until the Devil was done.

Unlike to Lucifer, Sam's abandoned screams were no less torture to Castiel. How could someone take so much pleasure out of a soul's suffering? Sam screamed, his throat raw, mouth flooding with blood, his nose running, eyes puffy from crying, hair damp with sweat and tears were trickling down his face.

At that moment, Sam looked so young and his soul so ancient. For the first time, Castiel saw him for a human and nothing else; not an abomination, or the boy-king, or the boy with demon blood or Lucifer's vessel. He saw a human suffering unconstrained at the hands of the devil for the crime he didn't even commit.

But the angel knew he had to wait. Acting purely on the instinct was going to land him next to Sam. He would be of no help to the hunter if the devil caught him breaking into his territory. But just like everything else, it was easier said than done. Sam was not making it any easier. Not that he was to be blamed for that.

The sickening pop of his rib that Lucifer snapped and Sam's pitiful pleas begging for mercy jarred Castiel to the core of his grace. His heart broke silently watching Sam shudder in pain, weakly pull at his bonds then giving up in defeat.

"C'mon, Sam" Lucifer grabbed his hair with blood-soaked fingers, pulling his head up, making Sam cry out as the action shook his broken ribs. "Don't be so selfish. Scream for me. After all, I'm going through all this hardship just so I can hear the melodious sound of your screams."

"Luc'fer..." His weak voice whistled through the Cage. Castiel didn't think it was possible for Sam to speak at this point. But then again, he didn't think any human would survive such horrifying torture for so long.

"Please, I'm beggin' you... please st-top... I-I can't..." Castiel had never seen Sam look so vulnerable, so broken. For a man with his physique, Sam looked so fragile; he might crumble under Lucifer's cruel hold.

"Ah-ah-ah, Sam" Lucifer smoothed his hair, pressing his face down on the cold metal; he reached for another rib and snapped it like a twig. "We stop when I say so. If, I say so", His laughter bounced off the walls.

The hunter screamed, fresh tears sliding down his face mixing with the blood. He was breathing fast and the sound of his heart beating miles per second was echoing throughout the Cage, mocking Castiel and his helplessness. Sam's whole body writhed and squirmed trying to pull away from the pain. His eyes were losing focus and his breathing was slowing down. His demise was close, Castiel could feel that, and he loathed himself for finding peace in that thought, for he could only begin to save Sam after his death.

Of course, the Winchesters never had luck on their side. Lucifer put his hand on Sam's head and soft light radiated from his palm. Sam exhaled a broken sigh of relief. The obscure angel did not understand why Lucifer was healing Sam. The sudden shift from cruel torturer to a healer left the angel feeling a little dazed.

Color was returning to Sam's face and his heartbeat was picking up the normal pace. Why the broken ribs that were still sticking out like demented wings were not healing was something the angel could not understand. The healing should have fixed his bones, unless… Lucifer did not want them to be healed. That vile son of a …..

"I can't have you dying on me before I'm done breaking my toy now, can I?" Lucifer snickered, caressing his mangled ribs and moved to the next intact rib and then the next one, keeping the terrified hunter locked in the anticipation of the forthcoming pain. The devil's hand stilled and in split second, the bone cracked and snapped.

"De-ean!" Sam cried out his brother's name.

It took all his strength for Castiel to not intervene. The harsh truth dawned upon the angel of the Lord then: God was cruel. He did not know of mercy, of redemption, of forgiveness. He had none of these virtues in him otherwise he would not have let Sam, an innocent soul caught in the crossfire to suffer so heinously. Lucifer was barbaric with his torture methods and the proof of it was littered all across Sam's soul.

Oh, his soul!

It looked so tattered and torn.

"Dean!" Sam cried miserably, his entire body curling into himself, a futile attempt at self-preservation. Poor boy, did he not know that he lost all of that the day he was destined to be Lucifer's vessel. If, what Zuriel said was true, then this was always going to end bloody for Sam. Hell, it was bloody but it was no closer to ending. If anything, Lucifer was dragging this out painfully slow, taking his time, breaking one sweet rib at a time.

Sam was defeated. There was no fight in him left. Lucifer had broken him for good. Castiel had never seen Sam look like the way he was looking at the moment: shattered and hopeless.

Not once throughout his torture had he prayed to be saved. Why hadn't he prayed? If not to God, why hadn't he prayed to Castiel? Then it dawned on him and the scene of Lucifer disintegrating him played out in his mind. Sam didn't know that Castiel was brought back to life.

The torture went on for another stretch of time. Sam's screams were loud enough to make another human's ears bleed. Lucifer's cackles at Sam's pitiful attempts to scream when he could no longer scream were grating torture in itself. Even though 'Team Free Will' as Dean had called it had managed to stop the apocalypse, Lucifer had created his own twisted little apocalyptic world that was fueled by Sam's endless suffering.

Dignity thrown out of the window, Sam thought of begging. Sometimes, if he begged Lucifer let him off the hooks but most of the time he just took pleasure in his pleas. But after all the years of humiliation and endless suffering, Sam was not just tired, he was broken. He just wanted his sufferings to end for once and all, to lose himself to the unconsciousness and yet there was a small part of him that believed he deserved all of this. This was his redemption for breaking the world in the first place. This was him trying to right his all wrongs. All the suffering and torture that Lucifer had put him through, that he would continue to put him through, all of this was for the greater good.

In his life, all he did was bring only pain and suffering to the people around. Right from the moment that he was born, a mere 6 months into existence, he was responsible for his mother's death. Jessica, Ash, Ellen, Jo were the next few names among the list of others that had died a cruel death all because of Sam and his pig-headedness. Even Dean had to die because of him. Now Bobby and Castiel were in that list too. There was too much blood, innocent blood on his hand. This was his only chance at redemption.

He deserved this. He deserved more. He deserved worse fate than what he was going through. It was too much. All this pain and this torture, it was too much than anyone could bear. But Sam would do it and he would it with a smile on his face, as long as the one person that matters the most is still safe. He would do it for Dean.

"Earth to Sam?" Lucifer's malicious voice pulled Sam back into the pitiable misery that was his existence. "Or should I say Hell to Sam?"

Sam drew in a ragged breath and put it to good use that wasn't screaming or begging, "Screw you."

Lucifer cackled, the sound resonating through the walls of Hell. "And here I thought I broke you completely. Good to know there's still some fight left in you." With the unwanted cruelty, Lucifer snapped another one of Sam's ribs and yanked it out with such vigor that it cracked the thrashing hunter's spine.

More torture followed after Sam's abandoned screaming. All ribs were broken and pulled apart making Sam's torn back look like a scene straight from a horror movie massacre and a massacre it was: Massacre of the Great Sam Winchester: the boyking, the freak, the boy with demon blood, the abomination, the true vessel of the Devil. Yet, it was also the redemption of Sam Winchester: a faithful lover, a beloved brother, a good son, a sympathetic human and the savior of the world.

Castiel had to never bear witness to such a horrifying act of torture: the blood, the sickening crunch of the bones, the echoing screams, the pitiful pleas. If the angel thought this was horrible, the devil dragging this torture out in creative ways was far worse. Sam just kept suffering, not that he had any choice. But Castiel did, he could intervene, die trying to save Sam if it meant letting the man have few moments of mercy but there was a bigger picture: Sam's freedom. Just hang in there, Sam. Do it for Dean.

When Sam could barely whisper and let alone scream, like a petulant child, Lucifer got bored of Sam. The archangel ruffled the blood and sweat-soaked clumps of hair and whistled his way away from the dying man's bound form.

Ensuring the archangel was gone for good, Castiel rushed to Sam's still form. He looked a mess. He looked worse than a road kill with the crimson-hued bones sticking out from his back. Castiel was about to place a hand on his Sam's forehead but the hunter sensed his presence and began to panic.

"Pl-please," he begged brokenly, "Pl-please, Luc'fer. No more… n-no more"

"Shhhh, Sam" Castiel cooed, "It's me, Castiel"

"Castiel?" he asked before the blurry memory of the beloved angel exploding into atom-sized particles came crashing in, "He is dead. You killed him." Sam cried softly, "Y-you lie. L-liar."

"No, Sam. It is me, Castiel" But Castiel could see he was already losing Sam. The abused hunter mumbled incoherently before drawing in his last breath. "Oh, Sam!"

The angel freed Sam's body from the metal table which otherwise would have been his pyre. An unusual heaviness filled his heart as he gently cradled a dead Sam to his chest. Angels were unaccustomed to human emotions but for the first time, Castiel was beginning to understand sorrow. Memories of Sam came flooding in his blurring eyes and with every memory, he felt his heart sinking deeper, drowning into dark places he didn't know existed within him.

"It's over, Sam" he cooed softly, brushing his hair away from his tear and blood stained face. "I am here to save you. It's over, I promise." The angel silently wept.

Something dark and greasy swirled from Sam's middle, rising towards his mouth. It smoked out from between his lips surprising Castiel. Sam wasn't possessed but it sure looked like a demon slithering out of a host and yet there was something familiar about it. That's when it dawned upon Castiel: It was Sam's soul.

All these years of torture and abuse had tainted and poisoned Sam's soul. All the vibrancy of the soul was contaminated by the horrible torture that was inflicted directly upon it. Like his body, his soul was tattered to resemble a ragged piece of clothing. It was one firm hold away from crumbling to dust.

As Castiel reached towards the soul, it sensed his presence and recoiled away, becoming one with the dark caverns of Hell. It was corrupted, abused and weakened to a level where it could no longer sense the difference between good and bad. Everything was taken as a threat. If a human carried a soul like this, he would be driven to insanity with minutes if the constant paranoia didn't compel the vessel to take its life before. Even for a vessel as strong as Sam's, the soul's instability could result in deterioration of the mind and body beyond repair.

With a soul this crippled and abused, Sam would still be locked and experimented on the top side in a padded cell which would be not very different from his current state. Of course, it wouldn't be as heinous and inhumane as Devil's personal condo here but it would still make Sam feel like a caged animal.

A Sam without a soul was a territory that was not explored before. How horrible could that be? Certainly not as bad as a Sam with a soul that was barely holding itself. Resurrecting Sam without his soul would definitely come with never before seen dangers but at least a without his soul, there would be no more pain, no more suffering. After all, hadn't Sam suffered enough already? Wasn't Castiel here to end the boy's suffering? Castiel was soulless too and he was doing alright. A soul like Sam's would only end up being another liability on Dean's grief burdened shoulders.

With that logic, the angel ripped open his shirt and started cutting the sigil into his chest. Holding Sam's body closer and giving one last glance at his trembling soul lurking in the dark, the angel recited the spell and broke Sam out of Hell.

-SPN-

The soreness at the base of his neck and between his shoulders was nothing new for the hunter. He groaned softly as stretched his neck trying to break out the kinks. The sky was clear and the howling wind was replaced by the sharp ringing in his ears. He blinked a couple of times and waited for the ringing to die out.

Hunter's instinct kicked in and he checked his body for any signs of injury other than the soreness. It seemed like he had passed out after drinking too much. Yeah, that would explain why he was under the open skies with his body feeling like it had been run over by a road roller.

But, it wasn't like him to pass out; maybe it was for his brother on nights that seemed to stretch longer, but not him. He leaped to his feet a little too swiftly causing his head to spin as the ringing threatened to return. Giving another moment for nausea to settle, he looked around trying to understand where he was.

STULL CEMETERY

He could make out those words even when they were flipped backward. What followed next was an entire recap of everything that had happened in the very spot that he was standing on: the vile taste of demon blood he had swallowed, the feeling of helplessness and despair when Lucifer possessed him, the crunch of Bobby's neck, the splatter of Castiel's remains, Dean's bones cracking as Lucifer beat into his face, the fraction of light glinting off the Impala that broke Lucifer's hold and finally the everlasting absence of light as he jumped in the pit. It all came crashing down on him.

Sam wasn't too thrilled to be alive. Dean had come back from the dead. In fact, this wasn't his first time being back from the dead. He just hoped Dean didn't make another reckless deal with the next demon he had summoned. They had already been down that road once. A second serving was not needed.

If anyone could tell him what exactly was going on, it was Dean. So Sam set out to find his brother. He looked around the cemetery and it was quite obvious that he was all by himself. Dean was nowhere in sight and neither was his piece of metal he so lovingly calls "baby".

-SPN-

Dean had never looked this content. Not even when both brothers had set out to light the night sky with firecrackers. But watching him there, at Lisa's dining table as she served another spoonful of mashed potatoes in his plate, he looked genuinely happy for a man who had just lost his baby brother he had sworn to protect. So an afternoon of mourning was apparently all he was to get for jumping in the pit then?

A part of Sam wanted to question his brother's loyalty and yet another logical part of him knew that Dean was merely keeping his word. He had promised Sam that if got a chance at the normal apple pie life that he always wanted, he would take it and hold on to it. So pulling Dean out from a life he dreamed off did not seem fair.

Anyway, Sam had bigger things to resolve. For starters, how was he alive and kicking? Who brought him back? What happened to Lucifer and Michael? But most importantly, why wasn't he feeling like... like... Sam? He was Sam in a way Lucifer was no longer inside his head and yet he didn't feel Sam enough.

With those thoughts muddling in his head, Sam walked away from the happy picture that was Dean's life.

-SPN-

Sam walked away from Dean instead of going towards him. That's when Castiel knew that something was terribly wrong about bringing Sam back without his soul. The question was: how far could this go wrong before it caused irreparable damage?