They'll be fine, they'll be fine, they'll be fine, Dean recited to himself as he led Cas further into Hell, away from the sounds of the fight.
Sammy can hold his own, and how often have you seen Bobby kick demon ass? They'll be fine. It's all going to be fine.
If only he could have believed himself.
Father, he prayed, help them. Help us. If you are out there, watching... don'T let this happen. Don't let the world burn. There's too much beauty in it.
Cas' face was stern, his eyes steely. He had worried Dean when he had had the flashback as they stepped through the door. Not that he could blame him. He still remembered the fire that had burned his wings. They'd been sensitive for a while. And they had lost several angels that day... Would one of them have helped them? Like Adam had? Perhaps it was for the best; perhaps they were doomed to fail after all, perhaps this was not what their Father wanted...
Great. He was free of Heaven's mind control and now his own doubts were kicking in. He had doubts in his doubts. Wonderful. But when he looked at Cas... No. They were doing the right thing. After all, they should have protected God's creations. IT was their original mission, before Heaven's politics had intervened and started to brainwash any angel who protested. After everything, he was certain that they all – including himself, Sam and Bobby – had been treated at one point or another. Some multiple times, certainly. And that was just wrong. There was no way to defend teh conduct of their brethren.
Well. Ex-brethren. They certainly wouldn't include them in their club anymore, not that Dean cared. He'd found a much better club.
Hell was quiet... for the most part. Dean's heightened senses told him there were demons all around, torturing, being tortured, screaming, the part that still remembered they had once been human deeply buried, so deeply that most didn't know it was there, but Dean still felt the agony of every soul. That was why he preferred fighting demons on earth. While they might be taking humans (and thereby opening w whole other can of worms) there was at least a certain distance when they had a meat suit. He wasn't forced to look at them and see what had become of God's creatures... well, if he tamped down his sight. Still. It was a plus.
Cas was next to him, salt gun and holy water ready. He knew he would have to do the smiting if they were caught. He also knew that they had lost (no, not lost, they were fine, they were fine) two valuable players... And that Cas really shouldn't be here.
But if Lilith had proofed her safe place against angels (and she probably had, he doubted Heaven had told Hell they were working towards the same goal) he needed him to get rid of the sigils so Dean could move in.
This was Hell. If only he had been using it as a metaphor. For the most part, Cas managed not to think, not to remember, just focusing on moving forward, on the task at hand. But when he didn't... Oh God, when he didn't...
He thought he understood what Dean had gone through now, with thoughts he hadn't needed or wanted disrupting his minds at the most importune moments.
You'll be a good demon, one day. I'll carve you into a new animal.
What would your father say if he could see you now? Screaming, begging? Would he be disgusted or indifferent? What would you say, Castiel?
But perhaps he wouldn't react at all. Not even indifferent – perhaps he just wouldn't see you. he never did, am I right? What about your brother, though? How do you think he would feel? Or did he hate you and taht was why he left? Maybe his problem wasn't your father. Maybe it was you, making him sick, following orders all the time instead of thinking for yourself –
The insults kept coming. Castiel was screaming, so he didn't hear them all; but those he did hear pierced what was left of his soul. He knew it was true. He knew he deserved every stab, every taunt, and that his family would have been disgusted if they could have seen how easily he was breaking apart, because he could already feel his humanity slipping away, becoming twisted, mangled, and what kept it holding on was perversely nothing but hate for the demon who had been torturing him for years – and wiuld never get tired of it, it seemed. Out of all the monsters he had hunted, Castiel didn't think he had ever seen something as bad as Alastair. It was difficult to imagine that he had ever been human.
Maybe Castiel would become just like him. Maybe it were the most undeserving humans who became the best demons. It made sense.
Enjoying yourself?
How Castiel hated his voice, this light, slimy voice that pierced through his very core. No matter how much he screamed, he always heard something – always hard Alastair was talking, still talking.
How many people had he broken just by talking to them? Castiel was certain he had.
Cas realized he'd been walking after Dean blindly, caught in his flashback, and shook his head.
You have to help Dean. You have to kill Lilith. Get a grip of yourself
At other times, it might not have helped that his inner voice sounded like his father, but now it allowed him to concentrate at least.
"Dean?" he whispered. "Do you hear something?"
"Too much" he mumbled back, his shoulders tensing. Of course. And angel could probably hear every demon in Hell if he wanted to.
Despite it not being the right moment (when had Cas ever had one of those?) he reached out and gently laid a hand on Dean's back, between his shoulder blades. After all, they were in a relationship of sorts, and he was supposed to help Dean navigate through Hell anyway.
"It can't be easy".
"Talk about easy. The last thing I ever wanted to see was you back here."
They smiled weakly at one another, perfect understanding humming between them and moved forward. They had to hurry. If they did, perhaps they could eventually help Sam and Bobby. They were alive. Cas had to believe that.
He was surprised at how well Dean knew the paths through Hell, but then again, he was an angel. He had been fighting demons for millennia. He might have been in Hell often enough, fighting hopeless battles.
"We're getting closer" Dean mumbled, but Cas wasn't sure whether he wanted to inform him or reassure himself.
"She probably won't be alone" he interjected; Dean nodded, his eyes shuttered.
"Yeah, Cas. You know who –"
"So you haven't heard him yet."
They didn't have to pronounce Alastair's name. But Dean would certainly be able to pick out his voice, that voice that still sounded in Cas' head, out of the other noises in Hell. Everyone would. Cas shuddered just thinking about it, despite the heat that was getting worse and worse the closer they got to the hiding place. He must not have been held captive that deep into Hell the first tiem, he realized – or at least he didn't remember it being that hot. But it was difficult to remember anything thjat wasn't pain. He might just not have noticed. And it had takene several angels to get him out.
Dean grabbed him and all but threw him in a dark corner, coming to duck beside him. Two demons dragged a screaming soul through the corridor, thankfully too busy to pay attention to the shadows.
The soul was already starting to rot, Cas could tell. The... soul-body (he didn't know what else to call it, only that human souls materialized in Hell as they had looked on earth, probably because it was easier to torture them that way) didn't heal as his had done. But maybe that had just been a trick of Alastair's, so he had more meat to cut? But on the other hand... Wouldn't he have kept wounds open? Either way, this soul was badly wounded and its screams were less those of anguish and pain as of hatred and a desperate wish for vengeance.
Dean had looked away, the sight apparently too much for an angel with a great love for humanity, and Cas eventually had to close his eyes as well and didn't open them again until Dean said, "We're free to go".
This was what would have become of him. He would have slowly rotted away, only leaving the shadow of what had been in a bloodthirsty demon. He pushed the thought away and followed Dean.
Somehow, they made it. He knew this was it when Dean stood still and stared at an area hidden in darkness.
"That's how far I can go".
"They must have used powerful protection spells, then."
"Of course. Alright, then". Dean took a deep breath and punched Cas' shoulder lightly, trying to grin.
"Showtime."