A/N: This chapter has some canon-typical violence. Monsters get the brunt of it, and I don't think it's exceedingly descriptive/graphic, but I'd say it is more so than other chapters so far. Figured I'd add a warning to be safe.

Chapter Nine:

Purgatory had a smell, like sulfur and plant decay. The trees were many, but they were bare and their spindly branches looked like twisted bones reaching up to the sky. Night had fallen, although it was hard to be sure if that had anything to do with time, or if it was just perpetually dark in this new land.

Cas and Dean walked through the barren woods together. Dean reluctantly let go of Castiel's hand - it was better if they were to be ready to fight whatever may come their way.

"You have an extra weapon, Cas? Those crooks stole my Demon blade."

Cas grinned. "Actually I swiped it back from that vampire after I knocked him out." Cas reached into his bag, pulled out the weapon, and handed it to Dean.

Dean smiled. The weight of the blade was reassuring, and there was a certain relief in being armed again with Cas at his side. The two of them had always been a good team. Still, he wasn't going to let his guard down. His eyes darted around the trees as they walked.

Once he was fairly sure they weren't currently being stalked, Dean decided it was safe enough to speak. "Hey, Cas? I was kind of wondering, how are you alive? Not that I'm not thrilled, but I thought Cain got you?"

Cas glanced at him before returning his sights to the trees, wary of movement. "Well, you were right with your first guess, Dean. I am the Dread Demon Cain."

"But that's not possible. I know you're old, but Cain has been terrorizing Hell for longer than you've existed. And…you're not a demon."

Cas nodded slightly in confirmation. "Well, the story I told you was true. Heaven's Great Council sent me to Hell as a human. They said the power of the angels would provide a good cover and distraction while I got the real intel. But I knew it was still part of my punishment for having fallen."

Dean swore under his breath. He had to work to fight away his rage at Heaven's betrayal.

Cas, however, seemed unperturbed by his own story. "Cain captured us all. Separated us. I don't know what became of them – they may still be in Hell. But he was particularly interested in me," Cas said. "You see, I was a human among angels. The two have never mixed particularly well, and he thought it strange that a military operation would include both."

Dean bit his lip, the question he was afraid to ask burning on his tongue. "You said – you said he tortured you, Cas?"

Cas looked away from Dean. "Afraid so. He spent maybe a month or so torturing me and healing me just to torture again. There wasn't much I could tell him, though. I hadn't been privy to some bigger plan, and eventually I think he just wanted to break my spirit. It didn't work. Any time he started in with the torture – well, I thought of you. And it saved me."

Cas allowed himself to look up at Dean. Their eyes met, and it was all Dean could do not to pull Cas into an embrace and never let go.

Instead, he walked a little faster to keep pace with the former angel. The quicker they got out of here, away from danger and away from Chuck, the better. "Then what happened, Cas?" he asked, trying to rid his imagination of the many ways a demon like Cain might torture someone.

"Well, after a month, he told me was done torturing me. I assumed he meant to kill me, so I said: Please, I have to live. And amazingly, he listened to me speak of you. He was quiet for awhile, thoughtful. Then he left me alone in my cell that night, and the next morning, he let me out."

"He freed you?"

"Sort of. I'm not sure if you're aware, but Cain has a passion for sailing nearly as much as he has a passion for torture. He took me to his ship. I wasn't allowed to leave it, and I'm ashamed to say at that point I was too afraid to try. But from then on he was nothing but gracious to me. I met his crew and I became an apprentice, I guess? I helped the chef cook, and scrubbed the deck, and learned about sailing. In the evenings, he taught me the ways of the sword. I certainly wasn't very good at first," Cas said with a small smile.

"He seemed to struggle with himself about me, though. Every night, before I retired to my cabin, he'd say, 'Goodnight, Castiel, good work today, I must try to kill you in the morning. For years, he said that. Until one night he came to my cabin and told me his secret."

Dean raised an eyebrow at Cas. "Which was?"

Cas grinned slightly. It was clear he was enjoying having Dean as an audience. "I'm getting to it. 'I am not the real Dread Demon Cain,' he said. My name is Timothy, but no one would have been afraid of the Dread Demon Timothy. It's the name that inspires the proper fear, that leaves the legacy.' He told me that he had inherited the name of Cain and his ship from a man named Cain, who was also not the real deal. His real name was Ryan, and the name and ship and been passed down several times even before him. When the current Cain wants to retire, they choose someone else to take over."

"He chose you," said Dean, astonished. "But how – what about the crew?"

"Well, Cain ordered his crew off his ship, and since no one could argue with him, it went unquestioned. He instructed me to wear all black, and after that, we took on an entirely new crew. Timothy stayed on as my first mate for a time, calling me Cain all the while. Soon everyone knew me as Cain, and Timothy chose to retire. I'm told that the real Cain has been retired 200 hundred years and living like a king in an alternate universe."

Dean took a moment to process all that information. It was a lot to digest, but in the end, only one part of it really mattered. "I'm glad you made it out, Cas. I'm glad you made it back to me."

Cas looked at him tenderly. "Of course."

As they had walked, Purgatory had grown more oppressive around them. Rustling from everywhere kept them on edge, and Dean wasn't sure if he'd rather just face some monsters and get it over with. Still, the hunter in Dean couldn't help but appreciate Purgatory. In a place with only monsters, no innocents could be caught in the crossfire. "It's not so bad," he said casually as they ambled through. "It's pure, you know?"

Cas gave him a concerned look. "I suppose," he said. "I'd rather not run into any Leviathan, though. The stories made them sound quite unpleasant."

"Leviathan? Cas, those aren't real. They're just –"

Predictably, Dean couldn't finish his sentence as the first of several Leviathan leaped out from behind a tree and attacked him.

Dean, though caught slightly unawares, had quick hunter reflexes that certainly served him here. He lunged almost automatically with his Demon blade and managed to shove it right into the gut of the nearest Leviathan. The humanoid creature didn't die, but it did fall hard and that gave Dean time to address the second monster.

This one was ugly as sin, a big male Leviathan, scabbed face and dark eyes. "Hello, human," it said. "Ready to die?"

Dean smirked. "Funny, I was about to ask you the same." Dean made another lunge as he had done with the first, but this Leviathan was quicker. It moved out of the way and around him, strong arms going to grip Dean in a headlock. Dean shoved his elbow into its ribs. The toothy bastard's grip lessened slightly but did not break. Its fangs were going for his throat but suddenly Cas's sword slid distressingly close to Dean's face. It bypassed him and found its proper target, slicing through the Leviathan's open mouth. It gave a nasty wail and Dean was just barely able to step aside to avoid it collapsing on top of him.

Dean was about to thank Cas but there wasn't time. Three more Leviathan jumped towards Castiel, at least one with a weapon. The former angel was able to knock two back with his sword, but the third managed to slash Cas across the chest and upper arm with a flailing dagger.

Dean jumped back into the fray, going for the one that had caused the injury. He grabbed ahold of him and swiped his own blade across its throat. It crumpled to the ground. Dean turned to continue assisting, but then there was a quick flash of steel. It was one grotesque thump after another as two heads quite literally rolled, and two detached bodies fell at their feet.

Cas was covered in the black goo of Leviathan blood, but he looked powerful, with his sword still in hand and eyes a blazing blue. A monster's worst nightmare for sure. Dean would have thought it was over, but all the dropped Leviathan were still moving, writhing. The one Dean had stabbed through the gut was even standing again, weaker but with wrath etched in every line of his face.

Cas noticed him at the same time Dean did. "I'll take care of that one," he said. "You finish the rest." He pulled off the bag on his shoulder and tossed it at Dean, who caught it. He shot him a questioning look. "Borax," Cas replied in answer, and the hunter understood immediately.

He rifled through the bag of supplies and quickly found a metallic can with a nozzle. Dean gave it a quick sniff to confirm and was not disappointed. Dean assessed the situation – Cas was going toe to toe with the gut-wound Leviathan and the others were writhing and limping towards Dean. Help Cas first, he thought, and so he did. He ran towards the duel and gave the can's trigger a quick pump in the Leviathan's direction. The spray hit the monster's face just as it was going for Castiel's neck. It screamed as its skin began to burn, bubble, and melt away.

Dean turned away from the sickening sight and back to the others. Even the bodies of the ones that had been decapitated were still crawling towards their severed heads. Dean wasn't surprised – the lore said they could survive beheadings and put themselves back together like some nightmarish puzzle.

Dean hurried over to them and sprayed liquid over each monster, be it body or head or both. Those with the ability screamed bloody murder as their entire being dissolved horrifically, leaving behind clothes, bits of bone and not much else. Dean, experienced hunter though he was, still had to resist the urge to gag.

There was movement to his left, and he raised the Borax can automatically, but it was only Cas. He was a little pale. "You're bleeding," Dean said, eyeing Cas's injured chest and shoulder.

Castiel smiled slightly. "Just a flesh wound, Dean. All things considered, I'm pretty pleased we managed without worse. Do you still have some borax, though? We can never be too careful in here."

Dean shook the cannister to test it. He had used quite a bit but there was enough left to get them through in a pinch. He hoped it wouldn't be necessary, though.

"Come on, we should be nearly through Purgatory now. Our ship awaits."

As terrible luck would have it, they'd only gone a few more feet before something else went horribly wrong.

Cas was ahead of him when it happened; he'd stepped on what had appeared to be solid ground only to find that it was very much not solid. It was undoubtedly a pocket of Lightning Sand – it was the stuff of Purgatory legend: hard to spot and with no substantial form, it was truly a suffocating sink pit. In the time it took for Dean to register what he was seeing, Cas was devoured by the chasm and completely out of sight.

"Cas! Cas-"

"Hey boys, lunch time! Jack, are you feeling up to eating at the dining table? I made enough for Dad to join us."

Kelly Kline stood in the doorway of her son's bedroom. Jack's father turned to her with a kind smile. "Thank you, Kelly, I appreciate it."

Their son, however, was not as gracious. "Mom, Castiel just got swallowed by Lightning Sand! We can't have lunch now, I gotta find out what happens!"

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying the book, sweetie, but it's lunchtime."

"You're mom is right, Jack," said his father firmly. "You need to eat, and I'm hungry too. I promise we can find out what happens to Cas and Dean right after that."

Jack sighed. "Okay."

The boy pushed away his blankets and stood up. Perhaps he did it too fast because his head spun a little and his legs felt as wobbly as jelly. His face paled and it did not go unnoticed by his parents. His father was there in an instant, putting a supportive hand on his arm. "Alright, kiddo?"

Jack nodded. The flu was certainly no fun.

"Let's get some food in you," said his father, and with that, the man reached for his son and hoisted him up onto his shoulders. "I'll get you to the dining table pronto!"

Jack chuckled. "Dad, I'm too big for this," he said.

In truth, Jack was not far wrong – pretty soon this wouldn't be an option for a growing boy. But Jack was small for his age, and there would only be fewer opportunities for this in the future. "Almost, Jack," his father replied. "But not yet. Your old man's still strong enough for this."

And so the family made their way to the dining room to enjoy lunch together, and the book that held the answers to Castiel and Dean's fate lay face down on Jack's bed, open and ready for when they returned.

A/N: Oofta, that was a hard chapter. Lots of exposition and fighting - hopefully not too clunky and still enjoyable. Reviews always appreciated!