No voice, new eye but under the scars the same soul
Chapter 1: The soul of a fighter
Dean is running. He is running faster than ever before in his young life, a life that will end before he hits his sixteenths birthday. How could his father not predicted the outcome of this hunt? Even him, a hunter in training, as his father likes to call him, notice that there had to be more than one hellhound in the city. To be fair he hadn't thought that it would be seven but that´s not the topic right now.
His legs are getting heavier and the distance between him and his father in front of him is getting bigger. The air in his lungs is burning and with every step he could hear the monster come closer. He couldn't see them anymore. The glasses with the holy oil were lost somewhere behind them. He should have stayed at the motel with Sam, watching cartoons or pretending to be annoyed that their father hadn't taken him on the hunt.
Under his feet is the soft ground of the forest, pieces of timber are breaking under his steps and suddenly he loses his footing. The burning air in his lungs is pushed out of his body as he hit the ground; his hands are hurting from the soil as he had tried to stop his fall. For a second, only a second the world stood still. Dean was on the ground, his father in front of him, many meters away and behind him, the sulphur breathing monsters.
"Dad." Dean tries to shout but only whisper exit his mouth but his father must heard him fall because he turned around and stops. In this moment Dean saw something in his father´s eyes he would never forget. The moment was over as the piercing claws of one of the hellhounds dig themselves into his side and turn him around. Away from his father who had start to run again, letting him behind. Dean had seen it, his father had given up on him before the monster had reached him but it doesn't matter anymore because he was already dead.
The second hellhound let his claw fly over the left side of his face, the light in his eye disappeared and the last thing Dean noticed is that he couldn't breathe anymore. The beast had torn up most of his neck and part of his chest. Blood came out of Dean´s mouth with the last bit of air and his world disappears.
Castiel loves the night, especially the nights of new moon. The night belonged to the stars and that means he could find a very special flower he needs for a potion. This nightly walks to collect herbs that wouldn't grow in his private garden are one of his favourite activities. If someone had told him that as he was young he had laughed at the person but after several hundred years you get older and wiser and the life as a witch gives you new perspectives of the world.
Although tonight is the forest filled with a strange vibe, a sickening feeling was in the air and the trees are frightened by something. This something was unnatural, something that shouldn't be here. There was another thing, it was like the voice of a small bird, too weak to call out louder but it still was there. Castiel had always own the ability to hear voices that can´t hear by no one else. Mostly the voices of plants but occasionally the one of small animals but this voice, he wasn't sure but it sounds like a human. A human soul that is calling for help.
No it´s calling out for him!
Without hesitation Castiel follows the voice deeper into the wood, the smell of sulphur and blood reaches his nose. Hellhounds, he hates them. The one calling out must be close to the beast. He pulls out of his bag one of his hexbags as he sees the hounds mounding over something lying motionless on the ground and throws the bag right in the middle of the pack. A bright light appears. It´s filled with a bit of angel grace in powder-form together with other parts of the dark side´s enemies. The monsters getting burned and with their tails between their legs, they run away. All except the one directly hit with the hexbag-bomb he had created years ago, it lays dead on the ground with a basketball sizes hole in his body. No one can say something about protecting himself with his magic.
Castiel runs the remaining meters to the figure on the ground next to the dead hellhound. The acid smell of rotting flesh hits him but as he sees the human the smell is forgotten. A boy, still a child, half of his face was torn off but worse was the condition of the upper body and there is barely a spark of life left. The voice in his head is getting weaker with every second.
He knees down and lays his hand on top of the boy´s forehead and chest (what was felt of it). A little magic trick his brother had taught him to stop the time for a single object. In this case is the object the dying body of a child but the spell doesn't care what it freezes. After that was done Castiel starts to fix up the boy´s body, starting with the heavy bleeding arteries at his neck and the chest wound. Healing magic wasn't his strong point and if the boy should survive there will be heavy scar tissue for sure. With his sewing magic and the herbs that can close wounds with a protected layer to give them more time to heal Castiel managed to fix up the upper body and the face but the eye of the child was lost as is the whole vocal core. The windpipe could only be fixed up by using the remaining parts of it.
The witch sighs and looks down on his work, he still looked like Frankenstein´s monster but there was nothing he could do about the neck without risking the respiration apparat of the boy. Castiel turns around to the dead body of the hellhound, a red glowing eyes is looking at him. The beast is dead but it´s eyes were still looking. An idea appears in his mind, with a fast slide of his knife Castiel cuts out the eye and implants it into the boys empty eye socket. Should it work, the boy will be able to see again on this eye.
Deciding that nothing more can be done Castiel gets his stuff ready and lifts the boy up into his arms, the freezing spell had stopped a few minutes ago and the boy was still breathing to Castiel´s joy was the voice in his head back. The words are mumbled and he couldn't understand him but it was still there and that was enough. The pain medication, with a heavy sleeping spell are holding the boy in his unconscious state. At home he would try to heal the wounds more as making sure he would first wake up when he isn't going insane by pain.
The body he is carrying was far too light and as soon as the boy wakes up he would start feeding him up. If he wakes up, Castiel remains himself. The darkness of the night starts to fade and twilight fills the world with the first light of the day. The witch with his light cargo is walking through the forest.