Part XXIII

Hey everyone, hope you like this update, was a bugger to write! It was far too tricky... ;)

...

Dean's breath hitched.

Mystery Spot.

His mind was currently incapable of making any kind of connection, and he couldn't think why it was significant, just knew that it was. But even through his incoherence and misplaced understanding, he felt the tiniest glimmer of hope.

He raised his head, slowly as if the words had commanded him to look up, and It was a painful struggle, but the angel's voice soothed away some of the hurt, giving him back a little of the strength he'd lost at the hands of the Demon.

He blinked, and it took a few more seconds, a few deep breaths, but slowly he looked up.

When he met Castiel's gaze, his confusion only heightened.

Something.

Something… about the way he was standing…

it was just a little…off…cocky almost.

He couldn't shake it.

"Hello Dean." He said softly.

"Cas?...i'm…I…" he stuttered breathlessly, choking back a tearful gasp.

"Ohhhh, that's so sweet!…look at him, all tongue tied" Crowley mocked. "Castiel! Forgive me for not calling during office hours but err, tick tock, time's getting' on…and I don't think there's really any need for me to explain myself…I think you know why I've called you here"

Crowley stared unblinkingly at the angel, who's own eyes remained fixed on the boy kneeling before him. He turned his head stiffly towards the demon with an uncharacteristically mocking smirk, eyes following.

"Why don't you just humour me?" he said.

Crowley let out a small irritated chuckle.

"Oh dear me, we are in a feisty mood aren't we? I mean it's not like i've got any real leverage here or anything…is it?" he said sarcastically.

"Maybe you do have the upper hand, but even so…you don't ask…you don't get."

Crowley stepped as close to the burning oil as his stumpy little meat suit would allow and glared menacingly at the angel through the dancing flames.

The light from the fire tainted his face with a red glow that played harmoniously along with his threatening stance.

"I don't like games Castiel…but lucky for you I'm feeling very generous"

"Awww, how noble of you…" Castiel tilted his head to the side in a cocky gesture, one the demon didn't seem to interpret as anything out of the ordinary.

Dean on the other hand just thought that Castiel had gone nuts, or perhaps finally developed a sense of humour…though this seemed a rather inappropriate time to be sharing any new found humanity, what with the burning circle of holy oil n'all. He stared at the angel with a puzzled expression.

"Well, what can I say…" Crowley continued. "Who am I to deny a condemned man one last request? Quite funny really when you think about it…what was the last thing you said to me? You remember… right before you screwed me over?!..."

Crowley held out his hands palms splayed.

"Flea, or die!" he said in mock imitation.

He laughed coarsely, and his crazed eyes widened as he glared at the angel, dancing darkly with menacing glee.

"Well, now it's my turn" he said, voice low and threatening. "Except…this time, it's just die."

Castiel squared his jaw valiantly, smirk unfading.

"Best hurry it up then." he jeered in pure retort at the demon's threat; Something that Dean felt was perhaps more than just a little reckless right about now.

"Oh I intend to, right after you tell me… everything, you know about purgatory…and I do mean everything Castiel. You see if you remember, I know that you have the details of the ritual…and the incantation. I want it all. and just to be sure you're not telling me porkies, I'll be keeping hold of your two little pets until after the main event, y'know…just incase. Call it insurance..."

Castiel's smirk still hadn't faltered and he continued to stare back at Crowley with a look of sheer amusement etched on his face.

Dean was growing more confused by the second. Castiel's mannerisms were simply way, way off. This was just all wrong, why was he behaving so indifferently? It was like he was…

And that's when Dean clocked it.

Or at very least he suspected that he had.

Mystery spot?!

It couldn't be…could it?

But then all the right moves were there; the mocking stance, and the blatant cockiness.

He was pretty certain that Castiel could never master that kind of swagger, but he did know of one person who had it down to a fine art.

He looked up at the angel with wide eyes, watching him closely for more tell-tales signs.

How in the hell could he be sure?

…..

"You done yet Winchester? we aint got all day! Hurry it up would ya?!" Bobby yelled over at John who was ripping open another bag of rock salt.

John scowled at the older hunter and continued to line the granules in thick white streams along the window ledge.

"Where the hell's Cas anyway?" he asked, scrubbing ferociously at his forehead with his sleeve.

" He's gone to find the water system."

"Why?"

"Guess he was thirsty" Bobby deadpanned.

"What...?"

"To bless it y'idjit!"

John grumbled something incoherent under his breath which Bobby chose to ignore, and finished off his own salt lines.

"We done?"

Bobby raised his cap from his head and let out an uncertain sigh. He nodded.

"Think so"

….

"We need to move quickly"

Castiel appeared yet again from absolutely nowhere, and beckoned for the two hunters to follow him.

"Where we goin'?" Bobby asked, hurrying along beside the angel. "d'ya bless the tank?"

Without acknowledgment of the hunters questioning, Castiel stalked quickly towards the back of the warehouse with both men in close pursuit.

He stopped at the corner and closed his eyes briefly.

"The sigils are powerful…but I can feel that we're getting close." He said.

"Close? To what?"

Castiel turned to look over at John.

"To Sam." he replied.

The two men looked at each other and then followed as the angel continued across the dust laden yard at the back of the building.

They neared the far wall and there was no further to go, a dead end.

Castiel brushed his hand gracefully along the brickwork and slowly retraced his last few steps.

He paused.

"he's close." He mumbled quietly.

Bobby scanned the exterior of the dilapidated old building, and his eyes settled on something a few feet away.

"Look, down there."

At the base of the building was a small window, secured inside and out with rusting black metal bars. Internally it had been shattered and the serrated edges jutted out this way and that, razor sharp. Remnants of broken glass lay scattered on the dirty ground below, crunching underfoot of heavy boots as the three men hurried over.

Bobby swallowed, paying little heed to the huge lump in the back of his throat as he crouched down to peer through the bars.

Straining his eyes to see in to the blackness, he shifted his position to get a better look. Shards of glass splintered under his boots as he pressed his cheek against the wall, trying to glimpse in to the shadowed corners of the room below.

"Well? What d'ya see?" John asked impatiently. "Bobby? Is he in there?"

Bobby was about to pull back to tell him to shut the hell up when something inside caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes, stilling for a moment to see if it happened again.

A few seconds passed, and nothing.

He searched the ground by his feet and picked up a large pebble, tossing it through the bars on to the floor below. It rattled and rolled across the ground, clinking as it settled against the metal bars of the cell inside.

He peered inside again and listened intently, bringing a finger to his lips to signal for silence.

His eyes widened as a familiar stream of terrified whimpers echoed quietly from inside the room, chimed with the clink of metal as a figure in the corner began to shift.

….