Part 10 – Castiel

Castiel had known panic before. It was not a new sensation. He had also known helplessness, but not in quite the same way as he was feeling now. His faith was shaken in knowing there was so little he could do to help, or to protect himself.

He could only watch, horrified, his pulse—Jimmy's pulse—still racing from helping Dean and Jonah kill the second creature, as a third creature appeared from the room behind Sam and spat acid onto the fallen hunter's skin.

Sam had already been disoriented, suffering from a concussion maybe, but he still instinctively raised his left arm to shield himself after acid had landed on his jaw and neck. The remaining acid began eating away at his coat and shirt sleeve, still reaching him, still causing him such awful pain.

Castiel's breath caught at the sound of Sam screaming.

Of course Dean was quick to act, always so quick to act when someone else was in need, especially his brother. He had yet to reload his shotgun, but used it once again as a club, slamming the butt of the weapon up into the creature's chin and sending it toppling backwards into the room. Dean shouted back at Castiel then to tend to Sam as he leapt over his brother to finish the creature off, thinking nothing of his own safety.

Castiel remained frozen at first, but only for a moment. He dropped to his knees beside Sam and began hastily removing him of his jacket. It was immediately clear that the acid had already started eating through Sam's shirt, so Castiel tugged and tore at Sam's flannel until there was only the T-shirt beneath.

Sam was no longer screaming, but was gasping from the pain, staring wide-eyed up at Castiel for help.

Help me!

There was no time to be sure whether or not Dean had killed the creature yet. Castiel hauled Sam up onto his feet—at least he still had more strength than Jimmy's body alone—and hefted Sam to the bathroom inside the apartment.

The door was open, a sink in direct line of sight. Amazingly, actual water gurgled and finally poured from the faucet when Castiel flipped on the taps. He quickly splashed water over the wounds on Sam's arm, and along his neck and chin that were still losing flesh as the acid ate into him.

The water would neutralize it, at least stop the spread, but it would not undo the damage already done that was making Sam shake and go into shock.

"Sam!" Dean called from outside the bathroom, leaning on the doorframe and looking in at Sam and Castiel stricken. Jonah remained at a loss behind Dean, practically catatonic in his own state of shock.

Castiel had to stay calm. They expected it of him. He could not give away the truths he knew by panicking and crumbling. Somehow, he had to help bring them through this.

"I may be able to heal some of it," Castiel told Dean. It was getting harder to hold Sam up, and there was no way to know how deeply the acid had gone, but Castiel had to try. He leaned Sam back against the bathroom wall, placed one hand over the wounds on Sam's neck and one on his arm, and prayed that he had enough of his true self left to do this.

It was far easier to heal Sam than Castiel expected.

Sam gasped like a drowning victim taking their first breath out of water, his eyes clearing and focusing, though he did not stop shaking. When Castiel pulled his hands away, there was not smooth skin left behind, but the wounds were healed enough to leave only the surface still marred that would no doubt scar over time.

"Here, Sammy, hang on," Dean came into the bathroom, holding a rag he must have gotten from Jonah. It was only a little dirty, and would suffice for now. Dean wrapped it carefully around Sam's arm with practiced hands that had treated many wounds on that same skin. Castiel could picture easily a younger Dean treating a child Sam as he watched them.

"Sh-shit," Sam stuttered, willing himself not to go into shock like he had been about to, but to remain alert, ready to fight if they needed him. There wasn't anything to put over the wounds on his neck, not even a simple bandage.

"No big deal, right?" Dean mustered a smirk, patting the shoulder furthest from Sam's injuries, "It's just skin. It'll grow back."

Sam huffed a shaky laugh.

They really were remarkable men, these Winchesters.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean glanced at Castiel, a brief glimmer of heartfelt gratitude shining there before Dean masked himself again.

The three of them were crammed into the tiny bathroom, crowding the sink. Sam needed to rest, clear his head, or better yet, find something to treat his wounds more properly than Castiel's meager healing could offer. While the healing had come easily, Castiel could not bypass the powers of this place completely, not as he was.

Jonah stood in the doorway, Dean's bat bloody in his hands. "We can't stay here," he said, "Gotta keep moving. More of those monsters are bound to be coming, and this ain't exactly the best hiding place. Maggie…" his eyes went glassy, "My wife, she…she'll be wondering where I am. We got two boys…"

Castiel did not have to see Sam and Dean's faces clearly in the dark to know that the brothers were shaken to hear of the further similarities Jonah had with their father. Castiel had noticed too. He wished he could see the truth of Jonah's soul, see what the connection was between Sam and Dean and the others here. But all he could see was shadow, something darkening this man that had yet to be revealed.

Jonah was not a bad man, not evil, but there was something there, blackening him at his edges.

Slowly, Dean helped Sam out of the bathroom, and Castiel followed. It was quiet and still so very dark. Dimly, Castiel could hear the siren continuing to blare outside. Their eyes were starting to adjust but somehow that was not enough for them to see well in this place.

The apartment they had entered was small, unremarkable, black and smudged like everything else in this world. And then of course there was the bludgeoned body of the third creature.

Castiel shivered, feeling the hairs on Jimmy's arms stand on end.

"Grab Sam's flashlight from the hallway there, Jonah," Dean gestured to the faint light coming from outside the door, "It'll probably just lure more of those things toward us. We'll regroup a minute before moving on. We should get Sam's shotgun too when we go, but we'll grab that together. Don't want anyone going off too far on their own."

Jonah retrieved the flashlight without incident and closed the door behind him when he came back inside. They were down one weapon, injured, tired. And this was only their first time in the Otherworld. Castiel knew little about it, but enough to fear it more than he had dared fear diving into perdition to rescue Dean's soul.

This was a different kind of Hell.

Castiel shivered again, cursing himself as he did so. It was not cold. He actually felt very warm, not used to experiencing the extremes of mortal life, but usually remaining balanced. There was sweat dampening his host's skin now, his pulse still racing, his hopes of maintaining calm for Sam and Dean's sakes dwindling.

"Join the party, Cas," Dean's voice broke into Castiel thoughts, the elder hunter having forced Sam to sit down while he reloaded, with Jonah peering out the window.

Castiel did not understand what Dean meant at first, but he got the gist when Dean tugged at his own shirt. All of them were down to one layer of clothing while Castiel was still wearing three.

"Lose the trench and suit coat, man. They'll just get in the way," Dean said, "You can probably lose the tie too." He reached up from where he was sitting next to Sam on the remains of a burnt-up couch and yanked lightly on the end of Castiel's dark blue tie.

Jimmy's tie.

Jimmy…

Castiel was barely more than just Jimmy now, save having memories of being something greater. He felt more human by the moment as he took Dean's advice, letting his trench coat drop to the floor, then undoing the buttons on his jacket and letting that drop too. Finally, he loosened his tie further and pulled it free, tossing it onto the pile of discarded clothing. He felt strangely naked in just his shirt and slacks.

"You're hopeless," Dean stood with his reloaded shotgun propped on his shoulder, shaking his head as he came up to Castiel and flicked open the top bottom of Jimmy's white shirt, "You can just summon all that back once we're out of here, right?" Dean nodded down at the pile of clothes.

"Umm…yes," Castiel said, though it was actually a bit more complicated than summoning.

"So don't worry about it," Dean shrugged. Then he turned back to Sam, and Jonah at the window. It was eerie how no light was actually streaming in from outside. "Okay. We should go. We'll grab Sammy's shotgun from the desk up front, then make our way down the main hallway."

"There's…" Sam cringed as if even simply talking stung more than he could bear, which had to be true judging from the sight of his neck, "…the…map. Another building…connects to this one," he finished, pulling out the map he had taken from the lobby.

Dean walked back to his brother to look at it.

Part of Castiel wanted to stay right where they were, wanted to cower. An angel wanted to cower. The thought made Castiel so angry with himself. He was not helpless. He was not helpless.

Sam and Dean were the helpless ones, so much more right now than they could possibly understand. Castiel had to be strong for them.

"Hey…" Jonah breathed shakily, so softly they might not have heard him if it wasn't so quiet.

Castiel looked over, Sam and Dean did as well, only to see Jonah's face overcome with fear as he clung to the bat Dean had given him and stared out the window.

"What…what the hell is that thing…?" Jonah whispered.

Dean moved immediately for the window, Sam following gingerly, leaving Castiel last to walk across the room and peer over the others' shoulders into the night. By the time Castiel reached them, Sam and Dean looked just as disturbed and afraid as Jonah. Then Castiel too saw why.

The creatures they had seen so far were child's play compared to what existed at the core of this place. Outside on the street, barely illuminated by anything but the glint of the blade being drug heavily behind it, was some awful parody of a man. He was monstrously large, with something like an executioner's shroud on his head made of metal, otherwise having only bloody cloth wrapped around his waist as he carried an impossible sword. The blade shrieked against the pavement as it was drug behind him.

There, by the window, the siren was louder. Castiel felt himself shivering again, shaking. Something about the figure below them was familiar, and that only sickened Castiel more. It was coming for them, he knew, not yet but it would be. And it would find them. And Castiel would be unable to do anything to stop what happened after that.

The siren was so loud in Castiel's ears suddenly, the glass of the window cracking from the force of it. The cracking glass was loud too—so loud, too loud—loud enough that the figure below with his ominous helmet must have heard it. He looked up at them, looked up without eyes, and before Castiel could fill Jimmy's lungs with another shaky breath, the world around him grew darker and darker until there was nothing left but black.

tbc...

A/N: I swear there will be a chapter that ends without a cliffy. If it makes you feel better, Cas is not in any danger. Right now. ;-)

Crim