Next up: Chapter 8 ~ The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions (I'm not talking about Sam and Dean here. It's more because of the writer. I intended to do something good, and it is going to lead me straight to hell … and I'm gonna drag you all with me.)
Chapter 8 ~ The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good IntentionsSome days go by …
The killer and the hunter get to know each other better. Most likely, because Dean Winchester keeps Samuel Campbell company ever since his accident while walking out of the bathroom in a haze of pain and drugs.
Dean doesn't seem to be bothered keeping Sam company. But Sam is.
He's on his own most of the time and he's not used to have someone around close to 24/7. Sometimes he gets the weird feeling, that the man is mother-henning him; is even trying to be protective.
What's not normal. Then again, what's ever been normal in his life?
Strighas. Wraiths. Werewolves. Vampires. Ghosts. Serial killer(s) of whom he has visions about; who try to kill him, save him and is now with him in the bunker hoovering over and around him most of the day, having a close eye on him and everything he does or intends to do.
It's annoying.
And Sam hates it by the way. It makes him feel imprisoned and caught.
Sometimes he has the feeling, that the Winchester doesn't like it a lot too, but he does it anyway. As if it's his damn job to look out for him. To take care of him. – More or less anyway.
Dean Winchester – the psychotic serial killer – is watching out for him.
So, if that's not eerie enough to let someone (Sam for example) freak out (internally) just a little bit about it, he's not sure what else he's supposed to freak out about.
~ The Black Beast ~
Yeah, Dean's annoyed too.
He's annoyed by the hunter's bitchy comments and remarks about geek-stuff he pulls out of nowhere whenever he tries to make friendly (at least Dean thinks it's friendly) conversation with him. Because he's so not pestering him at all with his own bullshit.
~ The Black Beast ~
It's the day after, when Dean decides, that he's taking on Sam's offer to let the angel have a look into his brain, and bring back his memory.
Though, he's not certain if it's a good idea anyway. Little-nerdy-dude with wings could easily grill him, and that's not exactly what he's hot for.
Since Sam seems pretty sure that Castiel won't grill the killer – at least not instantly – he tells Dean to stay in the map's room and let Sam remove the warding on top of the iron stairs which leads outside the bunker's front (so to say), while he's calling out to the angel.
Dean only lets him, because he's certain that Sam's in good enough shape already to take on the iron stairs towards the entrance on his own without much effort.
So, Dean sits in the map's room at the table and stares at the map before him, traces with his pointing-finger the outlines of Wyoming and purses his lips while he does so.
Sam's on his way down the stairs, favoring his left side all the way since he's reached to top. He looks a bit uncomfortable, but other than that not in too much pain or close to passing out. Which makes Dean's inner agitation settle down a little bit.
"If he's all ears, he'll show up soon.", Sam states on his way back down and sits down at the opposite side of the table and takes a long swallow from his beer.
Dean draws circles into the southern area of Wyoming with the bottom of the bottle and sighs. "You sure we can't do this without him?"
Sam bites his lower lip and thinks for a moment. "Making you remember? No." He answers first. "If you're talking about figuring out what the demon intends by turning and twisting a human's soul so you become a killer and about why me having visions about it? Yes, maybe." He's honest, because he doesn't feel like hiding things or even lying to the man in front of him. "But I'd feel a lot better when Cas is around." … as long as you're around.
Dean hums and shrugs. He gets the message, though it's not said out loud.
He pretends to feel insulted, but Sam can tell the Winchester isn't. If anything, he looks kind of amused about Sam's confession of not trusting him. And going by the face the hunter pulls, he doesn't trust him as far as he can look.
Sam hates the face Dean pulls when he wants to look offended. It's beyond annoying and it's tearing at his nerves sometimes.
Before he can get up with an equal retort to the way Dean looks at him, the flutter of wings is heard, and there's Castiel within the blink of an eye.
"Samuel?", Castiel asks, one hand coming down on the man's shoulder, an angel-blade sliding from his sleeve of the other mane.
He glares at the one and only obvious danger in the room. "What happened?"
"Long story." Sam stands up and winces at the movement. "We've to-" He's interrupted by Castiel's hand pushing him back down.
"You are hurt.", the angel states and frowns and then glares some more at the abomination across the table. "I could not enter the bunker. – Did he intend to kill you?"
The angel's eyes never leave the green-eyed monster.
Sam doesn't try to get up again, since Castiel's hand is still on his shoulder and he's way too tired and exhausted to even think about protesting.
"I am hurt. – And it's half bad.", Sam brushes the angel's hand off and looks up over his shoulder.
Dean blows out a huff and shakes his head, casting his eyes down. "Yes. I intended to kill him, but then I saved him."
"Sam?", Castiel asks.
The hunter's annoyed all over again.
"I'll tell you later." Sam's not in the mood for telling stories. What he wants is to get to the point. "And yes, the bunker's been warded. – Anywho. We're here now. Dean's going to be our …" Sam isn't quite sure what Dean's going to be.
"Bunker-buddy.", the killer answers for him and grins broadly. "Objections?" He looks up at the angel.
"Yes.", Castiel opens his mouth to speak, but Sam lifts his hand to stop him. To stop both of them, because he can damn well sense where this's going to lead and he's not in the mood for any kind of fight at the moment.
"We're cool, Cas.", he says and sighs. "For now, we're partners. – Dean's missing some of his memories from BEFORE. – So, I figured you might help him? To remember?"
Castiel's frown deepens. "He may be lying."
"If he's lying you'll know. – If not, we'll be Yellow Eyes closer than before.", Sam explains. He sounds exhausted, and he leans back, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
"Why don't you go and rest a little?", Dean says with a threatening undertone and without looking at the hunter. It doesn't sound like an offer at all. It has more of an indirect order to leave the both of them alone.
"Me and your angel-friend will come to terms, won't we?" He cocks an eyebrow at blue-eyes.
The angel's eyes narrow and he does that thing with his lips where they purse a little bit when he thinks.
"First I will have a look at Samuel." He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrow further, and the next moment the flutter of angel's wings is heard and he and Sam are gone.
Dean draws in a long breath and exhales slowly. "Well, that's gonna be fun.", he mutters to himself and empties his beer while he gets to his feet.
~ The Black Beast ~
The next moment, Sam finds himself sitting on his bed, in his room, Castiel standing beside him.
Sam's not so in the talking corner right now, so he bitches at Castiel for zapping him around when he's damn well capable of walking. And he tells him again, that he's not talking about what has happened just now, and that he'll fill him in later on.
He tells him, that their actual priority is to find yellow-eyes and that Dean didn't kill anyone since they've taken him so there might's still a chance he's not completely nuts and can – in fact – learn that there are other ways to satisfy his needs instead of going all serial-killer.
Castiel wants to protest, but Sam doesn't leave him any time to do so. "No. – Just … I'm tired, Cas. – Please.", it comes out like a whine.
"Fine.", is all the angel says then, watching Sam as he crawls onto the bed and lies down. He curls up on his right side and closes his eyes.
Castiel eyes him for a couple more moments, before he lays his finger's on the back of Sam's head and there is a white-bluish gleam. It only takes a few seconds for the angel to get a look at Sam's injury and decides that it's not a big deal anymore, but he heals him nonetheless and sends him into an induced sleep.
Sam will be angry at him later, but Castiel knows the hunter too well and therefore he is sure, that Sam might will remind him that he is not supposed to do angel-stuff with him without his consent, but he will probably not lose his temper about it, so he is on the safe side.
He will deal with a may rather uncomfortable outcome of his actions when Sam wakes up and is well rested again. He figures his human friend needs that right now, since he looks like chewed on and spat out.
Of course, Castiel could have a look at Sam's memories too and find out what has been happening while the bunker was warded, but he doesn't. Because he has learned – while his time on earth and with the hunter – that memories are something precious and it would feel to Sam like he's turning him inside out.
~ The Black Beast ~
Dean's in the kitchen, having his third beer going down like water in the midst of July.
He's not surprised, when Castiel appears in the kitchen, all unseen fluttery feathers and wings and walks straight up to him, angel-blade in hand.
The angel's not messing around as it seems, when he puts the tip of the blade to Dean's neck and glares at him in a dooming way.
"I do have questions.", Castiel says and backs the Winchester up against the counter.
Dean's amused. – Of course, he knows this angel right in front of his nose may is more dangerous as himself, but he can't help it.
He might want to look dangerous, but he honestly doesn't – and that's what causes Dean to chuckle and he tips at the blade with his pointing-finger.
"I don't think you'll hurt me, Feathers, now will you?" He's pretty sure the angel won't, because there's still Sam and even if the man's an angel, Dean bets, Sam would kick his ass if he'd hurt him.
"I can. – And I will." Castiel backs up a bit more and thrusts his jaw forward.
"You won't. – Sam won't be happy about it." Dean tugs the blade away from his neck. "You know …" Dean eyes the angel for a long moment. "I can read people. – And you're … well I'm not sure … but it pretty much looks like you're going to kiss me any moment and we'll have angry sex on the kitchen counter." Dean wiggles his eyebrows.
Maybe he's reckless, or he simply doesn't care at all – he's not quite sure at the moment.
Castiel stares confused at the man and makes a step back. "We will not have sex.", he states bluntly.
In the blink of an eye, two fingers are placed on Dean's forehead, and he feels himself slip away into unconsciousness.
~ The Black Beast ~
Castiel's rummaging through the human's mind like a stampede. He doesn't leavy anything unattended inside the man's head until he reaches a barrier.
The angel doesn't think twice and tears it down, shatters it into pieces, and dives into it headfirst. He's not done with only helping the monster in human form remember. He is determined to know everything he knows, to see everything he has seen. From his very past until the presence.
If they are going to work with him – which Sam is determined to do – he must know who this man is and which kind of danger he is presenting to his friend.
So, he pokes and digs and doesn't leave a single stone on the other.
He sees what he's seen. He feels what he's felt. He knows what he knew.
Except … for something he can't seem to reach out to. It rarely happens, and he knows that it's probably something that's left from Dean Winchester's past lifes, that's lingering there. Latching onto him, not willing to let go and though not willing to stay.
Castiel has felt those somethings before when he was going through other human's heads, so he let it go, since he won't be able to have a look into it anyway, and he considers those somethings as irrelevant.
Parts of it are surely devasting. And Castiel gets to know, that Dean did not deliberately choose to become what he turned into. Sure, there was a predisposition for what he is, but that's not all about it.
It always takes a catalysator, something that nudges you into the right direction to do what you do, or to get what you become. He may is not innocent, but it's not all his own fault either.
And Castiel thinks, that maybe Sam is right about this man. When he is capable of remembering what happened before the wall in his mind had been set up, Dean might have a chance to do his repentance. To cleanse his soul from the darkness.
~ The Black Beast ~
Dean Winchester wakes with a start.
His eyes fly open and he bolts upright in his bed, panting as if he's run a marathon.
And he's furious. Downright furious.
"Damn freakin'…", he grinds out through gritted teeth and jumps from the bed. He doesn't give a damn about anything right now, but to have an eye in eye with the angel.
He storms down the corridor, into the map's room, but there's no one. He enters the library and finds it empty.
There aren't a lot of places to hide. Not even for an angel.
Blood his roaring in his ears, and he's so going to kill that bastard for making him feel … filthy. Angsty. Exposed.
Dean bursts into the kitchen, where he finally finds who he is looking for. But there's not only the angel, but also Sam. Sam who has his broad back turned towards him. Sam who's a damn Gigantor.
As tall as the man is, Dean barely see's Castiel standing behind him, facing the hunter.
Sam's head wipes around and his body follows short after. He stares at the entering man with big eyes, as he narrows in lightspeed, heading straight for the angel, murder in his eyes.
The green fire burning his irises, turning them into emerald lava of wrath.
"Out of the way, Cuddles!", Dean yells at Sam who's straightening up and making himself broad to block the man's way. "I'm gonna put that feathery junkless-angel-dick on my table, and I'm gonna skin that bastard alive!"
Sam's taken aback for a moment, though he stands his ground and bumps with his chest against Dean's when he attempts to pass him.
"I'm gonna rip your throat out, you motherfucker!"
Sam's stunned by the man's vocabulary and his incredible treasure of other words that follow, which sure as hell would be censored on TV.
"Woah" Sam puts his hands on the shorter man's shoulders. Not holding him back, but also not letting him past him. It's a gentle touch – nothing forceful at all.
"Calm down.", Sam's voice is soft.
There's no calming down for the Winchester. Not when someone's turning his insides out.
"Dean." Sam doesn't rise his voice. "I know."
Dean's still furious. He's still angry. He wants revenge for what the angel has done. But Sam's there. And he's so damn calm and … Dean just can't.
Dean sobers up pretty fast.
"You try and pull a stunt like that again, I'm so gonna kick your damn ass.", Dean's voice is still loud, but he doesn't sound as angry anymore. He's pointing over Sam's shoulder at the angel, locking eyes with him over the short distance.
Castiel's definitely unimpressed by the human's threats. "You have to be aware, that you will not be able to kick my butt, you Assbutt."
Sam rolls his eyes and his shoulders slump in defeat.
Dean's face scrunches up in confusion. "That's not even a legit cussword, you dumbwad."
"I do believe it is.", Castiel retorts, glaring over Sam's shoulder at the other man.
"Cas is sorry.", Sam speaks up and cocks both eyebrows as he does so. "He shouldn't have done what he has done without asking."
Castiel opens his mouth to say something. But Sam rises his hand telling him to stop without actually seeing that he is about to say something.
Dean's about to say something too, but Sam gives him his most impressive girly bitch-face he's capable of.
~ The Black Beast ~
Later that day, when Dean feels more comfortable in his own skin again, they sit together in the kitchen. Dean, Cas and Sam.
Dean and Castiel do battles by simply staring at each other across the table.
Sam's glad, that they don't do it verbally anyway. He likes it, when it's calm and silent.
When Sam asks him about his past, Dean tells him what he thinks is worth to know.
It's not a lot anyway. Dean grew up with his father. His father got possessed by yellow-eyes and that about sums it up. There are no clues at all about the whys and hows.
What Dean doesn't tell him is, how it makes him feel to remember about the time before he turned into what he now is. Somehow it makes his skin crawl when he thinks about his former motives when it comes to torturing people.
Living, breathing beings, feeling hurt and pain and despair.
It makes something tingle deep inside of him – and so not in the good way, he realizes. Then again, it also makes him tingle in a very wonderful – even arousing – way.
Dean feels torn.
He feels like, the kid (not the kid per say, but all his attitude, the way he was thinking about what was right or wrong) he's been back then before everything happened, and the man (who is pretty much the worst nightmare of all mankind, Dean figures) he is now, are two different kinds of human. A part of the kid he's been is lingering in him. Somewhere, deep down, buried under loads of debris, and it's about to crawl out of it.
Dean doesn't know if he's supposed to be happy about it, or not.
~ The Black Beast ~
That night, Dean dreams.
About his childhood – and weirdly – it doesn't only include memories from his time with his dad – John Winchester – but also other people he doesn't really recognize, but somehow he does.
There's not only John and Mary Winchester, who he is pretty sure were his parents. But also other's who he feels like are his parents too. Even siblings. Siblings he pretty much is confident about he's never had.
It are utterly disturbing dreams, set in various timelines, places and countries … But it always ends the same. He's going dark-side, wherever he turns out to be a serial-killer, assassin, psychotic doctor in a mansion or whatever horrible person may have a weird obsession with torture and blood.
No matter who, or where, or when he is, one thing – BEING – is always with him.
Yellow-Eyes.
~ The Black Beast ~
A couple of days pass, and Dean and the angel are getting along better – at least that's what Sam thinks when he watches them. Of course, they don't talk a lot to each other, and it's probably better that way, but it seems like they are starting to at least accept each other's presence by now.
~ The Black Beast ~
Sam's in the library.
He went through a couple of books – collected by the men of letters - which include demons of all kinds. So far no luck.
So, Sam's looking for yet new reading-material to dig into. He hopes – when he keeps digging and reading and studying – he will find something about a yellow-eyed one in one of them (even though he's done that a hundred times by now, he won't give up).
Castiel is still around and has a watchful eye on the perceived killer.
Dean's in the library too, and helps Sam with reading through the lore. Dean notices, that he's not so much a book-type. He'd rather use a laptop and the net to do his research.
Sam balances a stack of books on his lower arms, stacked up under his chin and he's on his way towards the table Dean sits at.
"No.", Sam breathes and he stops for a moment and squeezes his eyes shut. "Not now.", he grumbles and hisses, when the first wave of sharp white pain tears through his skull and leaves him breathless for mere seconds.
Sam let the books drop to the ground and reaches for his head with his left hand. He palms his temple and grunts as he fights the vision, the searing pain. As it feels as someone is attacking his brain with a taser in an attempt to deep-fry it, an agonized cry rips from his throat.
Before he knows it, Sam finds himself on his knees, bowed forward over the books, holding himself up with one hand braced against the cool tiles of the floor. He tries to breathe through it – like he always does – but he knows very well that it won't work.
There's no breathing through the pain. There's nothing that actually helps, except for passing out and staying passed out.
Dean's there at his side in an instant.
"Sam?", he asks and falls to his knees beside the other man. His outstretched palm is hoovering mere inches above Sam's back, not sure if it's okay to touch him. "Sam? What is it?"
Sam only grunts and groans and clutches his head with both of his hands now, his face screwed up in agony. He's taking in harsh breaths.
Sam feels someone close to him. Beside him. He feels something warm against his back, in between his shoulder blades, before it touches him. And then, there's nothing for a short amount of time, before he feels the heat.
And it's odd, because the heat doesn't make him feel hot. It lets him freeze. It's like icy fire licking at his skin, and he imagines that must be at least as bad as flames.
Sam's not in the library anymore.
He's on an open field. He sees ice and fire and he sees demons and angels.
It's a battlefield and he is right smack in the middle between heaven and hell. Sam looks around and the scenery flickers, though he tries to hold onto it, so maybe he'd win time to figure out what this is supposed to become.
But he actually doesn't have to, because in the next moment everything shifts and turns upside down and sees him.
Green eyes, smoldering and gleaming like emerald lava are staring down at him. It are Dean's eyes, he realizes the very same moment and as soon as that happens, the world around him changes again.
Dean's riding a pale horse with misty white eyes. Tears that look like blood are running freely from the animal's eyes as it rears up, and the sound coming from its mouth is anything but the one of a horse.
Dean Winchester is surrounded by hell's most feared and dangerous creatures. Not only demons and hellhounds. There are species Sam has never seen before – not even in books. But he knows- like he always does when he has a vision.
And everything is burning.
Sam doesn't have to see what is happening, because he can feel it. The world is burning. And he simply KNOWS that it's because of Dean. Dean who is leading them into a war against Heaven and its angels.
~ The Black Beast ~
"Sam.", Dean tries again, his hand between the hunter's shoulder blades and one on his lower arm. He guides him to the floor before he can collapse onto the scattered books beneath him.
The scream which rips from Sam's lungs is earthshattering.
"Sammy." Dean hoovers over him, holds his head now in one hand, and his other one still on his back, wandering towards his shoulder where he grips him tight. The hunter's muscles are hard under his touch.
"Hey!", he's yelling now, because he can't help it, because he can't help Sam. "Damn it! Snap out of it!"
He is tempted to slap the hunter, but he holds back. He's pretty damn sure it won't help Sam, but it surely would help Dean to get some of the negative energy out of him which is mercilessly gathering in his gut and twists it painfully into a hard knot at every sound Sam makes.
Dean shifts and moves until he's in a sitting position and pulls Sam into his lap, letting the man's head rest in the crook of his elbow, one hand covering Sam's forehead.
Castiel jogs towards them and when he arrives, he squats down and lays a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"C'mon, man. – Help him.", Dean demands, as the angel's touch doesn't seem to do anything. As Castiel doesn't look like he is going to interfere.
"I can't." He eyes his friend intently, before he looks up to catch the Winchester's furious and somehow concerned gaze. "I cannot help him with the pain his visions cause.", he explains more or less clinically.
"So what? – We're supposed to watch?", he asks in disbelieve, as he cradles the tall man in his arms. "He's hurtin' damn it."
Castiel gives him a sharp nod.
Sam does as much as whine, followed by a wet choking noise and something that sounds a lot like a wounded animal. His face is hidden behind hair, so Dean can't tell what he looks like, but he bets his sexy ass, that the man's actually sobbing.
The hunter's muscles are strained to the point of tearing, Dean figures, and it hurts himself to have to watch.
Eventually – finally – Sam's body gives in. His muscles start to relax – Dean can feel it – and all that's left are pained noises coming from the hunter.
"Samuel?", Castiel asks calmly, his hand still on his friend's shoulder. "Samuel."
Sam makes a sound that's not quite an answer, but he – at least – lets them know that he's not deaf and that he – somehow – knows, that he's not alone.
He's still holding his head. Still huddled on his side, legs tightly pulled up against his ribcage.
Dean makes a shushing sound, keeps his cool palm on the hunter's forehead and tugs him a bit closer. One of Sam's hands loosen from the death grip to his head and it slips down onto Dean's forearm. His giant hand wraps around it tightly.
It shatters the Winchester deep to his very core to see a hulk like the hunter so desperately searching for ease, that he's considering to take Dean as an anchor. Sam's not even been like this, when he's been hurt and near death.
There were no such sounds as those he's making now, and it's so not Samuel Campbell. Not at all. Here, right now, the man in his arms, is nothing like the man he met in the motel, nor when they were chasing each other through the bunker.
"What now?", Dean asks the angel, because HE obviously has to know what to do; how to deal.
"We will wait. – Sam will tell us when he feels better." Castiel rises to his feet, still staring down at his friend with sorrow in his eyes and slumped shoulders.
"That's it?", Dean asks. Because that can't be everything. "You're not going to pull one of your angel-stunts on him and send him to dreamland?"
Castiel frowns. "Sam does not appreciate it, when I interfere without his consent."
"Dude.", Dean growls.
Sam's nails are digging into his skin where he's holding onto him.
Dean closes his eyes for a moment, his lips form a thin line and when he opens them again, his look is somehow softer and determined.
"He's your friend.", he speaks calmly. "Sometimes friends have to do things, people don't want them to do." He has no clue if this will actually help making the angel do something, but he tries anyway. "Sometimes people aren't aware of what they need. And then, there are friends around who do just that. No matter if the person wants them to or not. Or if the person is going to bitch at them afterwards."
Castiel eyes the human killer. He seems to ponder that. "You think, Sam needs me to put him to sleep even when he does not approve?"
Dean rolls his eyes and nods with an annoyed sigh. "Yeah. That's exactly what I meant, feathers."
~ The Black Beast ~
Castiel decides that Dean Winchester is right, and that human emotions and the way they are acting are more contrary and therefore more complex as he had thought.
He is also certain that a strange kind of energy is surrounding his friend and the killer, but he cannot tell what it is that makes the hairs in his neck stand up whenever he is in the same room with the both of them.
~ The Black Beast ~