CHAPTER 13: They're Here

...

Noise was one of the things that moved freely inside the torture chambers of Hell.

The haunting echo of the King's own footsteps followed him down the long, windowless corridor. He has been at this part of Hell countless times, and the smell was always the same: a choking mixture of blood, sweat, fear, and desperation, wiped down by the harsh stench of rotting entrails.

Crowley continued on until the screams were no more than a dull echo. Making a right down one corridor and a left at the next, Crowley soon comes to a pair of doors at the end of the hall. The doors are opened by two lowly demons, allowing the demon king to pass the archway and into the throne room.

Crowley is greeted by his most loyal right hand demon, and adviser, Alfred.

" Welcome back, my lord." Alfred says with a slight bow of his head.

" Mm..." Crowley responds with little acknowledgement, resuming his steps toward his throne.

Alfred narrowed his gaze on his king, noticing something out of place with Crowley.

That's when he saw it.

An anomaly. At first it appeared in a blurry silhouette, distorted in a shapeless mass that surrounded Crowley. Alfred trembled. Negative energy washed over him, filling him with primal fear. He found himself being crushed by this overwhelming panic, and a small voice in his head telling him something was really wrong, and that he should leave.

Who knew Demons could get scared shitless.

But Crowley didn't seem to notice this dark malevolent force. He did, however, appeared frazzled, disoriented even. It's as if this dark energy was draining on the King's strength, like a parasite feeding on its host until they keel over. The silhouette danced around Crowley like a vulture boring down on its prey. Malignant tendrils reached out invisibly, digging deep into his demonic soul.

A sense of dread washed over Alfred. He didn't know what it was, but he felt something wasn't right about that thing. The feeling intensified when Crowley's eyes snapped in his direction. Those eyes, filled with a malicious hunger, mixed with hate, and rage. It made uneasy shivers crawl up the demon's spine. Feeling as if Crowley would lash out and slay him any moment from the way he was glaring.

What else was in Purgatory that Crowley had taken? What is inside him that seemed so eager to get out? And this EVIL, it's nothing like the millions of souls that the demon king now possesses. No, this was something else, something more ancient.

But Alfred set aside his anxiety the best he could. Knowing it's not his place to question his King. He cleared his throat and takes a single step forward. " I see that his highness has succeeded on his quest for Purgatory's souls."

" Drink." Crowley ordered as he sat upon his throne.

Alfred ignored Crowley. He was too busy staring at the shadowy mass again, which had grown in larger proportions and loomed over the king like black clouds. A chill ran down his spine. Gravity pulled at him, and the air itself felt heavy and oppressive.

" Have you grown deaf, Alfred?"

Alfred stared at Crowley dumbly. " Sire?"

" I want a drink!" Crowley growled through his teeth.

The demon did not hesitate for a second, disappearing into the next room, and re-appeared holding a glass of scotch.

Crowley takes the cup, then downs it in one swig, exhaling slowly in satisfaction as he feels the burn at the back of his throat. " I want you to gather everyone here as soon as possible."

Alfred looked up to Crowley in confusion. " Beg your pardon, sire?"

Crowley snaps a glare at his adviser. " Did I stutter?!" He spat.

The demon flinched. " My apologies, sir." he says and was out of the throne room in a flash.

It didn't take long for Crowley's most loyal followers to appear before him. From crossroad dealers to lowly grunts gathered in the throne room. They chattered amongst each other in question to why they were summoned. It wasn't really like Crowley to do so, unless it was something bad, or important. The bad, though, doesn't sit well in the King of Hell's eyes. The King never took kindly to disobedience, failure, idiocy, nor having his methods questioned. To do so meant certain death. Evidence of that was shown to them all no longer than ten hours ago.

A demon who was thought to have been dead, appeared and confessed he was captured by an Angel and was forced to give up Crowley's location. As well as narrated his escape in order to warn the King. Although, Crowley did not care for his excuses and killed him without a second thought.

So of course they would be nervous in Crowley's presence. And the silence they were getting from their King was even more nerve wrecking.

Crowley is seated in his throne a moment longer, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He then rises.

As he opens his mouth to speak his head throbbed. It throbbed so violently that he nearly lost his footing.

" Crowley..." A chorus of voices suddenly rang in his head. The intensity so overwhelming he had to lean against the chair. Reaching up and rubbing his forehead, pulsating pain increasing. The ocean of whispers were eating away at his mind like a school of piranha.

Crowley had begun to experience these voices not long after his encounter with the Winchesters and Bobby. But it wasn't until his attempt to kill Castiel did they intensify. The jumbled voices demanded that the former angel be given to them. Crowley couldn't withstand the screams and had to depart. Doing so the voices grew silent... For that time being that is.

Now they were returning with a vengeance. The voices, the rage and malevolence were resurfacing. They laughed- cruel and mocking. " Give us the fallen one." The darkest and loudest of the voices growled monstrously. Deranged voices chattered in its echoes.

For a moment all was silent and still. Crowley glanced up to his subjects, who stared questioningly. His adviser seems to be mouthing his name, but no sound can be heard. Nothing but dead silence... Until.

" We want Castiel... bring us to him... now." A lone voice demands.

Warm, sticky liquid tricked down his brow. It worked its way along the curve of his eye socket, matting his lashes. He brought a hand to his face, wiping his fingertips across his forehead. Then brought those fingers to his point of view. It wasn't sweat, nor blood. The substance was dark- almost black.

The deep voice in his head cackled. Its malevolent merriment sounded as though it came from right beside Crowley's ear and a million miles away. The thousands of others were its chorus, its clapping, guffawing, shrieking audience.

The corners of the demon King's lips twitched, slowly curling into a malicious smirk. A deep chortle arose, joining the wave of a million cackles. Only thing is... It was Crowley that was laughing. His frame shook into a deranged cackle.

...

That morning Sam woke to sounds of thunder rumbling just beyond the hospital walls. The young hunter sits upright from the row of seats he had chosen to lay on. Stretching out his limbs to ease the aches in his joints, keeping in mind that sleeping in such a manner was a bad idea. But, there was no way he'd step foot in the van that they had arrived in. The images of the recent event still haunting him.

And all that blood.

Sam stared down at his shaking hands. The very hands that kept his brother-in-law from dying of blood loss. Visions of crimson would flash before his eyes like a movie that would replay itself over and over and over again. He felt the urge to run to the nearest sink and wash his hands, even if they were already clean. But poor Sam could still feel Castiel's blood on them.

Taking a deep trembling breath Sam raised his gaze toward the elder hunter who sat across from him. Bobby seemed to be too deep in his thoughts to realize that Sam had woken. It appears Bobby is just as worried he is about Dean and Castiel. The Winchesters are like his sons, his family. And when Cas showed up, soon enough he too became part of that family. Losing either of them would surely break Bobby's heart.

Speaking of concerns, Sam pans his head over his shoulder and into the room behind him to look upon his older brother. Dean is seated beside the bed where Castiel laid. He hadn't slept or ate at all since he came to see his comatosed husband. Dean refused to leave the former angel's side.

Sam could not help but be glad that Dean wasn't doing anything crazy. Sam knows his brother too well to not worry about what he does if someone he cared for was harmed. Cause if anyone that was insane enough to do so might as well jump off a cliff right after, because Dean won't rest until he found, and killed them. Sam was witness to some of those events. Although at this moment Dean's body-language clearly stated that he was on edge; anxious, worried, enraged.

Early in the morning Sam had been wakened by Dean moving about restlessly in the room. Sam understands the emotions his brother's going through; but still, the anxiety he's displaying started making Sam nervous and wakeful himself. And so Sam decides that for his brother's sake, it would be best to help take Dean's mind off all these events.

Rising from his seat he enters the room. " Dean?" He called in a calm, almost quiet tone.

" Hm?" Dean responds tiredly. He looks to Sam through half-lidded eyes.

" You need to sleep."

" I'm fine..." Dean replied groggily, rubbing the obvious sleep from his eyes.

" Fine... But can you at least eat? There's gotta be a cafeteria here somewhere. Besides, it'll be good for you to stretch your legs a bit."

Dean glances up to his brother. There's a long silence between them until Dean finally nodded his head in agreement. As he rose to his feet he grabs the crutches Sam hands to him. Before leaving the room Dean took one last glance to Castiel.

They walked along the corridors in search of a cafeteria. After a few minutes of wandering around they finally find their destination.

They ate a big breakfast together and spoke. Sam chose his words very carefully, any questions he asked were about Dean only. He made sure to avoid bringing up Castiel, or Crowley for that matter. Sam did not want to upset his brother anymore than he already was.

By the time they left the cafeteria. Dean could hardly keep his eyes open. Sam intended to have Dean off to bed as soon as he could. Dean nodded off moments after sitting back on the same chair next to his lover when they returned to the room. Sam was relieved, because Dean seemed a little bit better. Everything seemed to be fine now. Sam only hopes the distraction was enough to ease Dean's agitated mind.

... An Hour Later...

Sam was deep in thought after he left the hospital. He had decided to take a walk while Dean slept. He wandered the early evening streets wordlessly, his collar turned to help combat the chill. He soon arrives at a narrow alley that leads to an empty lot and paused. Normally he'd have gone straight to bed and slept like a rock during the nightfall hours. But he wasn't remotely tired. He's slept enough.

He felt an unidentifiable anxiety and wondered whether it was related to his worries for his brother and Cas, or about the events at the asylum the other night. And most of this anxiety was focused on Gabriel. And why wouldn't he feel anxious? Sam did watch the archangel get engulfed in a wall of holy fire and vanish right after. Although, Sam was entirely aware that Gabriel was alive. How did he know? Call it a sixth sense, gut feeling, or whatever. But really, Sam just knew.

Gabriel isn't the kind of angel you could easily kill. Believe it, Sam and Dean had tried in the past, so did the Goddess Kali. Most of all was that Sam didn't experience any sensation that would indicate the archangel's death.

Two years earlier, on that day when Gabriel was killed by Lucifer to buy Sam and Dean time to escape, something happened. That moment the archangel died Sam felt it. It was the worst sort of pain Sam had ever experienced in his life. It felt as if someone had tore out his heart, placed it in a blender, and pushed puree. During that time Sam felt incomplete, like a piece of him was missing and it made him feel lonely, hopeless and broken.

Sam still recalls the conversation he and Dean had with BK in heaven's library. BK had mentioned about the profound bonds angels share with their mates, like Dean and Castiel. A bond that is shared both physically and spiritually, as well as the ability to sense each other's pain, pleasure and emotions. The stronger the bond, the stronger the connection. So in a way Sam and Gabriel share a similar bond with each other.

The sound of a football snaps Sam back to reality. He spun around, instinctively whipped out his pistol and aiming it at the newcomer. His weapon was ready to fire at his command and the figure raised his hands in defense.

" Easy there, cowboy."

Sam's eyes widened. It was a voice he knew better than any other. " Gabriel?"

The archangel cracked a thin smile. " Hey."

Sam holstered his weapon and grabbed Gabriel by the shoulders, choking back his emotions. " Where the hell were you?"

" Come on, Sammy, it takes more than holy fire to kill me." He replied with a strained chuckle.

Sam shook him violently. " Why'd you disappear like that? You had me worried."

" I was practically roasted alive in a column of holy fire. I had no choice but to bolt... I crash landed in the woods five miles from here, I literally walked- actually, limped all the way here." He sighs and looks away. " Now I personally know what it feels like to be deep fried chicken."

" Wait, you walked here?"

" Yeah, my wings got cooked, but I'm healing... gradually..." Gabriel emphasized that last word in an annoyed tone.

" But you're okay... right?"

" I'm alive and kicking, aren't I?" Gabriel then shrugged. " Although, I could use a candy bar right about now."

Sam releases Gabriel, and chuckles lightly. " I bet you do. Come on, let's head inside." He then plunged his hands into his pockets and walked down toward the mouth of the alley with the archangel at his side.

...

Dean was dreaming.

It felt hollow and strange, as dreams often do. Dean watched his husband with a mixture of emotions. He knew he was dreaming, of course. The scene playing itself out before him was one Dean had relived countless times.

In his dream of Castiel, he was silently cooking. When Dean asked what he was cooking, Castiel held up a frying pan to show him.

" I'm trying out a new recipe. I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy it."

Castiel looked so happy. Although this was only a dream, Dean's heart was still filled with pain and longing upon seeing him smile. When Castiel was taken, Dean had lost it. And for six long months he had hunted down Crowley in order to find him. But now with Cas in a coma he felt helpless.

" Do you like shrimp, Dean?"

" Never had it before, but from the way you cook I know it'll be delicious."

Dean played along in this dream with such acceptance. He sat at the table and actually ate with the dream version of his husband. Enjoyed talking, and planning future events together. Dean felt at ease for the first time in a long while. There's a 50/50 chance Dean might not experience these anymore. Knowing this hurts him so much.

" Is that the time already? We should go to bed, we got a long day tomorrow."

" You can't." Dean was surprised. " We can't go to bed!"

" Why? What's the matter? You're acting very strange, Dean." Castiel laughed and stood up. Dean reached out to try and stop him, but Castiel disappeared. Dean was left grabbing at thin air. This dream took place the night before Castiel's kidnapping. Dean felt that if he hadn't gone to work that day, then all of this could've been avoided. " Wait! Don't go!" He screamed at the space Castiel once occupied. Tears welling in his eyes. He covered his face with his hands.

" Sometimes... Destiny's cannot be avoided." Dean suddenly swung around to face the nightmare of his subconscious: Leviathan. The Castiel look-a-like grinned widely. " I'm pretty sure you would have realized that by now."

" Get out of my head." Dean growled.

" That's a little hard considering that you and Castiel are spiritually connected."

" You can't have him... I won't let you take Cas."

" Like I said before, Dean, some prophecies can't be avoided." His smirk grew sinisterly wider. " See you soon."

Dean opens his eyes. His face was still moist with tears. His features dripped with sweat. The scar on his shoulder ached hotly. Dean rubbed the inflamed scar and looked around. Looking at the clock, he saw that it was already past 9:00. He has slept throughout the whole day.

Dean suddenly noticed that Sam's jacket was draped over him.

" You looked like you were having a nightmare." Sam explained.

Dean turned away with embarrassment. He hoped that Sam didn't see him crying. Dean wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand. " It was nothing." Dean offered weakly.

" I see. I won't push."

Dean surveyed the room again. His eyes suddenly fall upon Gabriel standing over Castiel. The hunter narrowed his brows. " You're alive?"

Gabriel didn't respond, not even pulled his gaze away from the comatose man before him. His hands were balled into tight fists at his sides. Rage clearly apparent in his eyes, an emotion he'd rarely express. " Crowley went too far..."

" You think, Einstein?!... so are you going to just stand there, or are you going to heal Cas!" It was a sharp question. Gabriel's silence is an eloquent reply in and of itself. Dean's broad shoulders sagged under the weight of his emotions.

" He can't..." Sam answers Dean's question for Gabriel.

" Why not?!" Dean spat.

" I almost died Dean. I'm a bit low on power, I can barely even heal my own wounds. So I'm sorry for not being able to heal my brother at the moment!"

... Meanwhile...

" Wake up! hey wake up!" A deep, enraged voice rang out in the dark. A pair of eyelids opened in response. At first, everything was a blur, but as everything came into focus the first in its view was an extremely pissed off Apollyon. " wakey wakey, maggot."

" You?... I thought Crowley killed you."

" Well, you were wrong."

The demon scoffed with a grin. " I liked it better thinking you were dead."

Apollyon gave no mind to the insult, and resumed. " Enough of that… Do you know why I brought you here?"

The demon leans in and whispered, " Let me guess… you're throwing a slumber party. We're gonna sit around, swap stories, play ' fuck, marry, kill' and have a pillow fight. Am I on point?"

Apollyon's face contorted into an even more grim expression. " That's so funny, I forgot to laugh… but no… I brought you here for answers. Now… where's Crowley?"

" Have you tried Tijuana? I hear that one of the clubs there make an excellent glass of margarita."

" I'm in no mood for games, you worm! Where is Crowley?!"

The angel's anger seemed to amuse the demon. He grinned. " Don't know." His smile grew wider, enjoying the irritated look in Apollyon's eyes. " I'm guessing you're looking for him so that you can get revenge because he killed that pathetic angel buddy of yours, huh?" He knew he was in a very dangerous position, but it's true, Apollyon is seeking vengeance, and this demon is his ticket to finding the king of Hell.

Apollyon stared into the eyes of his prisoner. He didn't have to try to calm himself. His cool-headedness wasn't the result of reason, but the burning rage that had been etched inside his heart. His anger consumed all other emotions. But he wasn't gonna let that remark get the better of him. So Apollyon leans forward and speaks calmly.

" I'd be very careful of what you say, because the next thing that comes out of your mouth just might get you killed… Just like your comrades." He gestures his head to the side.

The demon turned his gaze to four bodies hung up in a row by chains, all of which he recognized. " Someone's been a busy bee." He knew he was in trouble now, and he couldn't begin to guess what Apollyon would do if he got on his bad side.

" So… Are you gonna tell me where I can find Crowley or not?" Apollyon asked once more as he slipped an angel blade out from his sleeve.

The demon's whole body tensed up. " I… I don't know." He starts to struggle in the chains. " Hey, I'm telling the truth!" The angel resumed, ripping open the demon's shirt. The buttons went flying. " Please-" His pleas are ignored. Apollyon slowly slides the blade up the demon's abdomen, all while glaring into the demon's eyes. " I'm telling you I don't know! You gotta believe me!"

" Why should I believe you? You're a demon… and demons have been known to lie." Apollyon says as he presses the tip of the blade against his prisoner's bare chest. He then pushed it into his right pectoral. The demon yelped. Apollyon pushes it in with such force that it instantly penetrated his flesh.

The demon writhed in pain, but the chains kept him from moving away. " Stop!"

" You gonna talk?..."

The demon wheezed, he felt like passing out. " Please… I don't know."

" That's what I thought." Apollyon pushed the blade deeper and the demon screamed again as the cold, thick metal slid inside.

" STOP!... okay, okay!"

Apollyon ceased his actions immediately, and yanked the blade out. " I'm listening."

" Word has been going out that Crowley went awol when he returned to Hell… something bad happened down there. The others and myself have no clue what went wrong… Crowley suddenly dropped off the radar… but that's all I know, I swear!"

Suddenly Apollyon became aware of what he was talking about, and backed away, with a horrible sense of fear washed over him. " Oh no…. It has begun…" He said, then vanished without another word.

" Hey! You're just gonna leave me hanging here?"

Apollyon reappeared looking up and down the corridors of Hell. Immediately the angel sensed that something was wrong. Countless times he's roamed these very halls when he was under Lucifer's control, had listened to the cries of tortured souls echoing around him. But no, not this time. He shows up to complete dead silence. Apollyon's grip tightened around the angel blade and starts to cautiously move forward. He checks every room he passes.

When he rounded the next corner he froze. Apollyon's eyes widened and turned pale. The sight before him sent an uneasy chill up his back.

The first that caught the angel's attention was the crimson smeared walls. His gaze dropped to a pack of demons that lay lifeless at his feet. Weapons were scattered all over, no doubt they put up a fight against Crowley. Although, it seems they didn't stand a chance against what currently controls him.

Apollyon pressed on. Walking towards the next corridor, he then stops once again as he came to a dead end. It was pretty dark. The only source of light came from a small window to his right. A door. He goes over to open it, but it doesn't budge. Something is blocking the way. So Apollyon applied a bit of strength and whatever was behind the door slides back, giving the angel enough room to enter. Apollyon first took notice of the large amount of bodies scattered all around the room. Some presented four deep gashes on various parts of their features, while others appeared battered and torn beyond recognition.

Apollyon peered to his left and found a demon, lying in a glittering pool of blood. When he went to move him, it became apparent that he had received some terrible injuries. As the face was exposed he could see that it was horribly bruised, as though it had been beaten against the floor- indeed it was from the face wounds that the pool of blood originated. As far as injuries go it seemed the demon was still alive, for his breathing was stertorous.

Apollyon had questions that needed to be answered. This demon will be the one to answer those questions.

The angel placed a hand upon the demon's chest. He conjured only a small amount of his grace to waken him.

Suddenly there came a breath so prolonged that it seemed as though it would tear open his chest. Suddenly the demon's eyes opened, and became fixed in a wild, helpless stare. This was continued for a few moments; then it increased into a deeper state of fear. He moved convulsively, and as he did so, said, " If you're gonna kill me… Do it now… I can't exactly fight back…" He tried to turn his head, but even with the effort his eyes seemed to grow glassy again so Apollyon gently put it back.

Then Apollyon said in a quiet grave tone, " Tell me what happened."

The demon looked at him piercingly with an agonized confusion, and said, " It was Crowley, he did this to us." For an instant his eyes closed- not with pain but voluntarily, as though he were bringing all his faculties to bear; when he opened them he said, hurriedly, and with more energy than he had yet displayed, " Whatever else was in Purgatory… it turned our king into a monster!" As he spoke, Apollyon's eyes never blinked, but his hand clenched at his side.

He did not, however, betray himself, he nodded slightly and said, " Go on." in a low voice.

The demon proceeded. " He started to act very oddly, he suddenly attacked us, then left." His voice was becoming fainter and his breath more stertorous.

Apollyon stood up instinctively. He suddenly realized the danger that Castiel was in. The Leviathans were surely looking for him right now. The Winchesters needed to be warned.

Apollyon only hopes he isn't too late.

... Meanwhile...

Sam, Dean and Bobby are seated in the cafeteria with Gabriel, having a late night snack as they awaited the Archangel's full recovery.

" Feeling better, Gabriel?" Sam asked.

" Still a bit sore, but I'm getting there." He replied.

" How much longer 'til you're juiced up again?" Dean said with an impatient tone.

Gabriel gazed at Dean. He wasn't at all offended by the way Dean directed the question to him. He understood the reason for Dean's impatience. All he wants is for Cas to be healed, the hunter did not care about anything else but the well being of his lover. That's one reason why Gabriel respects him.

" Not long... I promise." He answered.

It grows silent for a few moments before Bobby clears his throat and speaks, " I don't mean to be a pain but do we have any ideas to how we're going to handle this whole Crowley becoming a God problem?"

" We have to try to convince him to send those souls back to Purgatory... if not.." Gabriel paused, looking up at the others awaiting gaze. All besides Dean, he knew exactly what is to happen if Crowley refused. His hands clenched tightly on his lap. " We'll have to get Cas to a safe place... I suggest we take him to Pravuil, he should be ok with him in Heaven's Library."

As those final words passed his lips the lights over their heads began to flicker. They and others in the room watched in confusion while each light blew out with a loud pop. One by one until the cafeteria was consumed in darkness. There's a clamor between the staff members, and from a security guard's radio garbled voices speaking of a full blackout of the entire hospital.

" Storm must've blown the power." Says one nurse.

" No, the storm passed three hours ago... besides, everyone elses lights are still on." Another nurse implied as she points out the window to the street lights and houses.

A few moments pass when the backup generator turns on and the emergency lights flash on. The nurses went to their duties, leaving the cafeteria to check on the patients and see if they were okay.

Gabriel rose from his seat, his gaze locked on the doors leading to the halls. A heavy chill went down his spine, sensing a very dark presence nearby. It felt so familiar, but there was something more. A very powerful, ominous aura accompanied it. So much rage. So much hatred. And hunger. Suddenly Gabriel came to a realization and his eyes widened with terror. " Crowley's here ..." he says under his breath. Sam and Bobby looked to one another before jumping into action as they bolted toward the door. Dean struggles to his feet, scurrying for the crutches. " Whoa Dean, you're in no shape to run around just yet."

" You got enough juice to heal me?" Dean asks.

" ... Dean, I don't think you should-"

" Yes or no, Gabriel!" Dean snapped. Gabriel looked into the hunter's eyes, yet he couldn't tell if rage or terror predominated his mind, he can only see the desperation. "... please."

With a heavy sigh Gabriel gave in and planted his fingers to Dean's forehead. Dean's wounds are healed and the cast on his leg, gone. " Thank me later. Now let's go."

He and Dean both hurried out the cafeteria, and down the hall to catch up with Bobby and Sam. They rushed together toward the staircase, making their way up to the third floor before coming to a abrupt halt at the door; taking notice of the bloody handprint that stained the glass. Anxiety sparked inside Dean as he carefully opened the door just a bit and peeks through the crack. At his feet was a trail of blood, leading all the way to the receptionist desk, and there laid the body ( half a body, actually) to who the blood belonged to. It was a patient. Dean slopes his head a bit for a better view of the corridor, which he spots two more victims. When they all finally stepped through the threshold the body count rose. Every staff, security guard and patient that resided on this floor lay lifeless everywhere they looked.

Dean's chest tightened with anxiety. Crowley was here, and they didn't know it. How long ago did he arrive? And how did he wipe out an entire floor without raising any alarms?... That's when it hits him... The blackout. It was Crowley who caused it.

"... Cas." Dean suddenly bolts forward as fast as he could.

" DEAN!" Sam calls out, chasing after him, with Gabriel and Bobby in toe.

Outside the comatose ward they stopped. Dean turned the handle but the door did not yield. He, Sam and Bobby threw themselves against it; with a crash it burst open, and they almost fell headlong into the room. Dean did actually fall, and Dean saw across him as he gathered himself up from his hands and knees. What they saw appalled them. Dean felt the hairs rise like bristles on the back of his neck, and his heart seemed to stand still.

The emergency lights was enough for them to see. On the bed lay Castiel, his face pale and choking heavily as though he were drowning. By his side stood a man, clad in black. His face was turned from them, but the instant they saw they all recognized Crowley. With his left hand he held both of Castiel's hands, keeping them away with his arms at full tension; his right hand gripped Cas by the hair, forcing his head to remain still while his mouth was against his. Castiel's hospital gown was smeared with black ooze, and a thick stream trickled down his chin.

As they burst into the room, Crowley turned his face. His expression was blank, as if in a stupor; black liquid dripped from his opened mouth. The next moment the demon King blinked, waking from his trance and shook his head. When he came to, he ganders confusingly around until his gaze fell upon the Winchesters. Realization hits him like a ton of bricks. The voices, the massacre in Hell, being forced to come to the hospital and transfer his possessor into Castiel, along with the souls of Purgatory.

Crowley's surprised features turned to fear as he looked upon Dean. With no Godly powers Crowley was... well, he was just himself again. " Hello boys." He says nervously, cowering backwards until he was up against the wall. Dean advanced forward to the demon king with rage in his eyes.

He halted when the lights began to flicker. All eyes suddenly fell onto Castiel who was choking. The black gunk on his cheeks and neck trailed its way up and into his mouth, as if the ooze were alive. When he managed to draw his breath and with it had given a scream so wild, so ear-piercing that it caused everyone to cover their ears. The lights flared brightly in sync with Cas's screams. Castiel's back arched upward, so far until only his toes and back of his head were all that touched the mattress. His eyes were rolled all the way back. A powerful burst of energy was cast from Cas's body, throwing all standing by him backward; the walls surrounding him cracked and crumbled at the force. All around them they hear a crash of exploding glass. The floor itself shook with such magnitude it knocked everyone off their feet.

The entire hospital even shook, everyone on the floors above and below them screamed in terror. Car alarms blared loudly in unison in the parking lot.

Another desolate wail escapes Castiel's lungs which made the terrible scream seem only the quick expression of an endless pain. He felt his very blood boil. His frame drops to the mattress, then began to convulse violently; twisting his limbs to the point of breaking. Castiel yelps in desperation, screaming for help. He could feel them, the Leviathans surfacing. However much he fights them he still feels himself drifting away; his consciousness falling away into a black void. Their power proved to be too much to fend off. And as the last of his consciousness threads away he screams one final time. " RUN!"

All the lights, at a ten block radius, blow out all at once. And all is dark. The quake comes to a standstill. Everyone were in a daze of confusion as to what the hell had just happened; scrambling to their feet to attend the injured.

Back on the third floor, in the pitch black, a lonely light shines from Sam's phone. He flashes it around frantically. " Bobby? Dean? Gabriel?"

A cough sounds off near him and Gabriel's voice responds, " I'm good."

Then Bobby's, " Same here."

" Dean?!" Sam calls out.

" I'm okay!" He replies. Again the backup generator kicks in, emergency lights barely coming back to life with a pop. Dean peers to where Crowley had landed, and as expected the King of Hell had already snuck off. " Typical." He pans his gaze toward an empty bed, and he froze. " Cas?!"

" Castiel is no longer here." The voice of Dean's lover responds, and everyone turns their heads to the doorway. Dean's heart sank to the pit of his stomach, for the one standing before them was no longer Castiel, but the creatures Dean had feared in his dreams... The Leviathan. Now they're here, just as they said they would be, and in possession of his lover. The Leviathan looked down to them, and an ear-splitting grin formed on his lips. " Beautiful night for a snack, don't you think?" When he spoke, his voice was dark, and gruff, entirely different from the deep, calm and smoothe tone that was Castiel's voice. The Leviathan's voice brimmed with such malevolence it literally shook the others to their cores. When Leviathan finally looked to Dean he sloped his head; from the base of his neck the veins turned black. Traveling up his face and pooling into his eyes until the sclera were black. " Oh, it's so good to be back." When he finished, the natural blues of Cas's eyes flashed a bright red. His grin grows wider and a deep, monstrous chuckle fills the air.

... TBC...