Chapter Fifteen

The more Prince Chuck thought about his current situation, the more furious he became. Crowley was supposed to murder Dean, Hell would be to blame, war would break out, and the ensuing events would be great fodder for his stories. The clash of angels and demons, my, just think of the drama!

But Crowley had failed, and now Dean wanted to leave him for Castiel.

Once upon a time, the fallen angel had been as dutiful as any of his kind. But the love he had for humanity had cost him, and now his stupid, precious, profound love for Dean Winchester was going to cost him again. This was Chuck's game, and he no longer felt like playing with a wild card in the deck.

When the Prince walked into Azazel's secret dungeon, the Count was allowing Castiel a brief recovery from the torture, though it hardly felt that way to Cas. His whole body was in pain beyond anything he'd ever known. His insides felt like fire, his bones felt heavy, his skin felt torn to shreds - but no physical damage could be seen on his body.

The Count looked up at the Prince's arrival, while the shadow that was Kevin sunk further back into the corner. "Ah, your Highness. I didn't expect you to join us so soon. I've hardly had time to break him in," he said, nodding in Castiel's direction.

A muscle in Chuck's cheek twitched. "Ah, sorry, Azazel, old friend. There's been a change of plans. I must finish this now."

The Count's yellow eyes flashed with annoyance. "But it was just getting good."

Chuck ignored him and strolled over to the table where Cas lay, still wired to the Machine.

Their eyes met, one pair shining dangerously and the other resigned.

"Listen, Castiel," said Chuck, sounding almost regretful. "It's not personal, alright? You just don't fit with what I'm trying to accomplish. What you and Dean have together, that love? It's the stuff of storybooks, the stuff of happily ever after."

Prince Chuck reached for the dial of the Machine. "But I don't write happy endings. Goodbye, Castiel." And with that, he turned the dial as far as it would go.

"Not to fifty!" yelled The Count, but it was too late.

Pain flooded Cas's body, tore through every inch of his being. It took only a moment before he was blind from the agony, vision going white and empty. His ear drums felt as though they would soon burst. Despite the leather gag in his mouth, he managed to scream, a deep keening noise. Like a wild animal, a sound of death, loud and visceral. The sound carried through the dungeon, through the surrounding forest, even through the courtyard of the castle. It sent shivers down the spines of those that heard it. Mothers urged their children indoors at the sound. Small animals ran for cover. Leaves themselves seemed to tremble on the trees.

To Benny the vampire, it was as loud as a bell clanging against his head. He and Sam were together in the forest, searching for the alleged secret dungeon. Benny put his hands over his ears to drown out the noise, and was surprised when Sam did not do the same. Instead, his large friend closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, as though concentrating with every part of himself.

The wailing went on for maybe ten seconds, and then it was gone as suddenly as it had come, leaving a sharp silence in its place.

"What the hell was that? Made my skin crawl," drawled Benny.

Sam opened his eyes, tears clinging to his eyelashes but refusing to fall. "That was The Man in Black," he said.

Benny was startled, not in the least because he'd never seen Sam cry before. He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But – how do you know?"

"That sound. I made that sound when the yellow-eyed man killed my mother. It's pain, Benny. It's suffering. Prince Chuck plans to marry The Man in Black's true love tomorrow. Who else has such cause for pain? It's the sound of a broken heart."

Now, Benny wasn't inclined to agree. It sounded much more like the sound of someone's body being broken to bits, or pulled apart, or set aflame, maybe. But he also trusted Sam's instincts.

"Well, if that's the case," Benny said slowly, "then we need to go that way." He tilted his chin towards their left, through the overgrown trees.

Sam nodded and clutched reflexively at the hilt of his sword. He let Benny lead the way.

Almost, Mom, almost, Sam thought.