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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: Home Sweet Home
Hell was much hotter than Castiel had originally expected. This heat was suffocating, muggy. It made you feel like your skin was burning off just from walking down the never ending hallways. Lucky for Castiel, his angelic form kept him from actually burning, but Hell's heat was enough to make anyone, anything, feel like they were sitting in a pool of lava.
The vastness of the Underworld gave Castiel pause, unsure of where to find Dean. The multitude of hallways, doors, racks, and chambers was too long of a list to just go in half-cocked.
As Castiel made his way down the corridors, he extended his grace, searching through every nook and cranny until he found him; the one soul above all the rest that seemed to have a brand on it. A brand the angel could only assume was the Mark of Cain.
Castiel had no idea what to expect when he came upon Dean. Would he be bound? Would he be in the middle of a slaughter? Ideas bombarded Castiel's mind as he felt the demon's soul get closer.
"Look what we have here." A voice drawled from behind him. Castiel quickly turned around, the lack of light in the hallway making it difficult to see who had spoken. But the slight outline of a beast was enough to have the angel believe he was encountering a demon.
With his back straight and his jaw clenched, Castiel held out his palm as the lower-class demon approached him. The angel quickly lunged forward and placed his hand on the twisted soul's head, all of his grace flowing through him to his palm and penetrating the demon's skull, smiting him in an instant.
The angel barely paid any mind as the demon crumbled to the floor, eyes burned out of their head as he continued his way down the path.
He moved with cautious steps as to avoid another run in with any of Crowley's followers. The distinct scent of rotting corpses infiltrated his senses, but Castiel marched on, growing accustomed to the stench as he continued on his journey.
He rounded a corner and was greeted with a group of four demons, all catching sight of him simultaneously. A couple of their eyes widened in awe or shock, while the others narrowed before launching themselves at him.
Acting fast, Castiel pulled out a long silver blade from his trench coat pocket, almost immediately sinking it hilt deep into a monsters chest. He shoved it away, barely ducking in time to avoid getting tackled to the ground. He swung his body around and landed an elbow to someone's jaw while he plunged the blade through another demon's throat.
As the second body fell to the ground, the two demons paused as they assessed the situation. They glanced from Castiel and his still unmarked form and to their fallen comrades before surging forward once more. This time Castiel seized both of their foreheads with his palms, sending the demons falling to the floor, their backs hitting the graveled path painfully. The angel braced himself on the heads, smiting them just as he had done earlier.
With a short glance around, Castiel wiped his bloodied blade on one of the demon's shirts before straightening. He could feel Dean's soul much closer now, almost there.
….
Dean could tell Alastair was just about losing all patience he possibly had by the way his torturing had increased in intensity by tenfold.
Once Crowley had first shown him the First Blade, he had refused to take it. Unfortunately, that didn't bode well with the King, so he forced the middle Winchester's palm open, shoving the blade into it before wrapping his fingers around the handle.
Dean remembers how he felt vividly, the Mark pulsing with power as the energy surged through his body was enough to make him feel uneasy. He had never experienced anything like that before and he tried to forget how great it had made him feel. It was times like this when nobody was bothering him that his thoughts often drifted to the First Blade, involuntarily consuming every waking moment.
He tried to forget the utter blood lust that had flown through him; the need to kill that encouraged it. He blocked out the way the rough hilt of the knife fit comfortably in his calloused hands. He was in denial as he glanced at the First Blade that was eagerly awaiting him that rested on Alastair's cart.
Sooner or later, the Master of Torture noticed the short-haired demon's longing glances towards the blade so he started having Dean hold it for longer.
He would watch helplessly as his hand would shake uncontrollably, a distinct howling echoing in his ears. He couldn't control the urges he had to go massacre a whole town, the sticky feeling of scarlet dripping down the blade and his arms as the blood of his victims splattered upon impact after the knife punctured their skin.
Yeah, he tried not to think about that stuff.
But, Dean still held out; always telling the King 'to get bent' when he offered to remove him from Alastair's rack if he cooperated enough to go through training; whatever the hell that was.
They were at a stalemate; neither party sure what to do. Dean was unresponsive, Crowley was unrelenting, it was all very tiresome on all their parts, but both refused to give up.
So when someone except Crowley or Alastair blew the door off its hinges, he was a bit surprised to say the least.
"They really pulled out the big guns." Dean quipped, his lifeless eyes accompanying his forced laugh as a trench-coated man sauntered in with a sense of authority. "They sent an angel to come spring me lose?"
The angel's eyes locked on him, focusing on the demon before him. He took note of the black and red smoke that surrounded his body, tiny flecks of white intermixed with the two darker colors that were almost overlooked by his probing gaze. When he finally noticed the demon's waiting look, he cleared his throat. "My name is Castiel. I am here to return your soul to Earth as requested by your mother." He answered vaguely and robot-like, not mentioning the part that it was mainly Heaven's bidding.
Dean's face screwed up as he heard the absolute nonsense that came out of the angel's mouth. "You're joking. You're rescuing a demon, let alone me, from Hell? You must be new because the angel's, they don't like me too much." He said half-heartedly, all hiss energy having been drained from the constant battered shape his body was in.
"That is not of import."Castiel strolled over to the broken and beaten form of the demon and set to work, quickly removing his bindings before he gripped the middle Winchester's shoulder roughly. "Listen to me, if you cause me any trouble, I will be sure it is the last thing you do." The angel threatened, his extreme stare only a few inches from Dean's bruised face.
Because of his lack of energy, the demon just nodded slowly, still not really comprehending the fact that an angel was rescuing him from Hell.
Castiel's eyes shone bright blue as his grip on Dean's shoulder grew excruciatingly hot. The demon cried out, his knees becoming weak right as Crowley and Alastair rushed into the room.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" The King demanded, his furious gaze flickering between the odd pair. His eyes widened in recognition as the angel's wings created huge shadows on the walls, the sight overwhelming and frightening.
Instinct taking over, Dean sloppily reached forward and grabbed the First Blade causing it to bang loudly against the metallic cart, his wobbly stance looking unimpressive as he faced the dynamic duo.
Both backed up, knowing full well that was one weapon they didn't want to have shoved into their chests. Seizing his opportunity, Castiel regained his composure after being interrupted and repositioned his hand on the new Knight's shoulder. Alastair charged forward with a cocky grin tugging at his lips when he noticed Dean's eyelids drooping right before the pair vanished.
…
Dean fell to the ground, his face hitting something soft and warm. His body felt cold, his bare chest not use to temperatures other than really fucking hot. He took a second to breathe in the oddly familiar scent before he heard his name being frantically called. The middle Winchester's eyes opened slowly to see someone shaking his shoulder, their big hazel eyes boring into his. Finally putting two and two together, Dean realized the all too recognizable smell was Bobby's living room.
"Dean, man, are you okay?" Sam asked, his voice stricken with worry as he surveyed his brother's wounds. "Oh, God…" He breathed before finally taking notice of the eerily quiet man in the corner who was looking around the room with excessive interest. "Castiel?" He asked with uncertainty, standing up warily. Dean shuffled, trying to push himself up but with no success. Sam crouched to help his brother, grabbing a hold of the eldest demon's arm carefully before escorting him to the couch.
"I need to speak with Mary Winchester." Castiel stated, his voice low and demanding as he made eye contact with Sam.
Just as the youngest Winchester was about to object, Mary and John came rushing down the stairs after having heard the distressed sounds Sam had been making. The old hunter paused mid-question, his gaze switching from Castiel and Dean, unsure of what to make of the situation.
Castiel seemed to relax slightly now that Mary was there, although he still seemed on high alert as he took a protective step towards Dean. "I have done what you have asked of me and examined Dean's soul. It has not been majorly affected by the Mark of Cain-"
"So that's good right-" Mary cut in only to be interrupted herself. John and Sam just stood there, shocked into silence as they watched the exchange.
"But, his soul is not one I feel I can defy Heaven for. The Mark has been able to start altering it and I fear if I do not bring him to Heaven, it will be a horrible mistake." Castiel said with a hint of regret in his voice before he turned his attention to Dean. "I am sorry, but you are not like your mother."
The elder demon shrugged, the lines in his face gradually starting to relax. "Listen, Cas." He paused, meeting the angel's puzzled look after hearing the strange nickname. "I get that it's your Heavenly duty or whatever, but I ain't goin' anywhere." He stood up, pulling out a long silver blade from his waistband of his torn jeans and clutching it with determination. He'd be damned if he let one of these feathered dicks get the better of him.
Castiel's brow's narrowed, feeling his coat sleeve for his blade when he realized that was his weapon being trained on him. "Give it to me." He pressed, taking a step forward before Dean pointed the blade at his heart, his hold steady. The angel backed up, holding his hands up begrudgingly as he locked gazes with the demon before him.
"Dean." Mary started, a warning in her tone. She approached her son, grabbing his hand gently and wrapping her delicate fingers around the blade. "Give it to me." She said softly, her blue eyes fixing on her son's. With reluctance, the middle Winchester released it.
"Castiel." She began, stepping towards him. She twirled the blade in her hand to where the handle was facing him. "Heaven isn't always right." Her words came out barely above a whisper as John and Sam took defensive steps towards Dean, the youngest Winchester putting a rough hand on his brother's shoulder right where the angel had left a raised mark. Dean winced at the contact, the handprint still burning.
Castiel glanced between the family members as he regained his control of his weapon, his eyes full of doubt and fear as he weighed his options. Finally, he spoke. "I need to think." Without any further explanation, the angel disappeared in a gust of wind.
….
Dean was up in the room he and Sam shared, sifting through the piles of shirts that hadn't been worn in months. He finally settled for a blue and grey flannel shirt with a black t-shirt underneath and clean pair of jeans and socks. He had just finished putting on the undershirt when there was a soft knock at the door.
Pulling on the button-up, he approached the door and opened it with caution. His face broke out in a grin when Jo rushed forward, wrapping her arms around her torso.
"Sam said you were back." She said into the fabric, Dean was able to feel the smile that was plastered to her face as they stood like that, the young hunter feeling relieved that he was finally home safe. There was no doubt about the brother sister bond that had formed between the two; both feeling an immense amount of responsibility for each other.
They pulled apart, both walking into the room. The demon sat down on the bed, Jo hovering by the door awkwardly before speaking. "So, I really hate to bring this up…" She tried to begin only to have Dean cut her off.
"I don't want to talk about it." He said rather shortly, figuring she was going to ask him about his time downstairs.
Jo rolled her eyes, moving to sit on the bed designated at Sam's and clasping her hands together on her knees. "I wanted to talk to you about Sam."
The demon chuckled softly, running a shaking hand down his face. "I figured something was up, he touched my shoulder earlier and it just…" He trailed off, not meeting the hunter's gaze. "I could feel something tainted coming from him." He shook his head, not really in the right mind set to discuss his brother's extracurricular activities. "But, I just got back from Hell, so I'm not really in the mood to try and figure out how to bring my brother back from that edge." He admitted, trying to lighten the conversation.
The hunter nodded, thinking she probably shouldn't have brought it up when she spotted the Mark of Cain raised and easily noticeable on his forearm. She thought about asking him about it, but decided that was something for another time. With a small smile, Jo stood up and ruffled her hand through Dean's hair. "I'll let you rest." She said, moving out of the way before the demon could playfully shove her.
As soon as Jo left the room, Dean let out a long sigh before he got up from the bed. "You can come out now." He said to seemingly no one before Castiel emerged from the bathroom. "So, what's the verdict? Am I about to be struck by lightning?" He quipped, smirking as the angel faced him with a look of sadness and loss.
"I did not turn you in, if that is what you are referring too." He said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "I have decided I will let you stay here, with your family, but only if I am allowed to stay here and keep a watchful eye."
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, letting a laugh escape his throat as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You wanna babysit me?" He asked, his tone incredulous.
Castiel seemed puzzled, not knowing the terminology. "I do not wish to sit on a small child." He said innocently, giving Dean a disapproving look.
Dean actually laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, Cas. If that'll make you feel better, you can keep a watchful eye." He mocked, opening the door to go downstairs. He couldn't help but think of how bizarre their situation was as he set out to find Sam to let him know not to freak out when he sees an angel stalking him wherever he goes.
….
Sam watched as Dean made his way lazily up the stairs. He hoped he was going to sleep but he honestly doubted it by the way he saw his brother's shoulders droop and the glassy-eyed look he gave the youngest Winchester when he had told him to get some rest. It was like Dean wasn't all here, like a part of him was still down in Hell.
John wasted no time once his eldest son was gone to start asking questions, wanting to know everything. "We all saw the Mark of Cain correct?"
Mary nodded sadly, gesturing for them to follow her to the kitchen so they wouldn't be heard. Ellen, Jo and Bobby eventually showed up and were filled in, everybody worried yet happy that the eldest demon was back among them.
"What are we suppose to do? If the angels want him and Crowley wants him, there's no telling the kinda shit we're gonna step in." Bobby pointed out, his voice gruff as he addressed the group.
They all kept their voices as hushed whispers, wanting to make sure that Dean wouldn't overhear them. Ellen was the next to speak, just as concerned about the troubled demon as the rest of them. "Do you think, Casitel?" She said, confirming the name. "Do you think he will be on our side?" The elder Harvelle asked, facing Mary.
The blonde demon worried at her lip, wishing she could know for sure. "I don't know. I think he has good intentions but the whole heavenly soldier thing messes him up."
The group all nodded sadly, knowing that their biggest problem still hadn't been talked about. After a slight loll in the conversation, Jo put in her two cents. "What are we gonna do about the Mark? If the angels think it's something horrible, shouldn't we figure out a way to get rid of it?"
John rubbed his forehead, remembering the hours of research he had done while Dean was… away. "As far as I can tell, I don't think there is a way to get rid of it. Unless he transfers it to someone else, maybe back to Cain?"
Nobody had any answers and Jo felt like she wasn't contributing to the discussion as everyone started to put out their ideas. She hastily made her way upstairs, wanting to talk to Dean about his hard-headed brother.
….
"Dean please! Don't do this! You can fight this!" Sam pleaded, backing up. He felt a twinge of panic form in his gut as his back collided with cement, reaching the end of the room.
He watched as his brother approached him, his eyes feral and hungry as he stepped forward with calculated steps. The First Blade was grasped fiercely in his palm, crimson staining his clothes and fingers from the trail of bodies he left behind him. Sam looked at the forms of his friends and family, his parents and the Harvelles, Bobby and even Castiel all dead.
Dean wanted to save his dear old brother for last.
The Knight of Hell stalked towards Sam, his voice malicious and dripping with venom as he taunted the younger demon. "Come on, Sammy. Give your big bro a hug."
The youngest Winchester watched as Dean stopped directly in front of him, bringing up the blade to where the tip was pressing against the spot right over his heart. He cringed as the knife broke skin, the Knight pushing the First Blade ever so slightly.
Dean's breath was hot as he leaned in close to whisper in Sam's ear, his tone running chills down the younger demon's spine. "Let me tell you one last bedtime story."
With no hesitation, Dean slid the First Blade cleanly and effortlessly into Sam's chest, not even moving a muscle as his brother gasped, a broken cry escaping his lips right before his body crumpled to the ground.
Dean woke up in a cold sweat, his blankets half off the bed and his t-shirt completely soaked through with perspiration. His head fell into his hands as he brought his knees up to his chest, trying to ignore the heat that was radiating from his right forearm.
…
After figuring the conversation wasn't going anywhere useful, Sam offered to make a run to the Grocery store, making the excuse that Dean would want some burgers for when he woke up. So he slid out of the house and into the Impala, passing the gas station and the grocery store before stopping in the abandoned parking lot of a closed down K-Mart.
"Have to admit, I didn't expect you to come. Thought you'd be too busy catching up with that pain in the ass brother of yours." Ruby said with a hint of amusement in her tone as Sam got out of the car, a scowl pulling at his lips.
"So not in the mood." Sam snapped, holding out his hand impatiently. "Just hand it over so I can get back."
Ruby raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms in silent defiance before she realized the youngest Winchester wasn't going to apologize. "That attitude won't get you anywhere Sam. If you want it, I at least want to hear a please."
Something resembling a growl came from Sam as he shoved his hands in his pockets, irritation evident on his face. "Please… just give me the stuff." He said through clenched teeth.
With a satisfied smirk, Ruby grabbed the black bag that had been resting at her feet and pulled out two water bottles before tossing them at the long-haired demon.
Sam eyed her expectantly after catching the measly two containers. "Where's the rest?" He questioned, taking a step forward as his longing gaze fell on the bag.
The blonde shook her head, no regret in her tone. "That's all I could get-" She was cut off by Sam's giant hands wrapping around her throat, pushing her against the Impala forcefully.
"What do you mean, that's all you could get?" He hissed, sudden anger controlling his actions.
Ruby shoved him off, not in the mood to deal with his outbursts. "I'll have more for you in a few days. Ration it until then." Before Sam could respond, she was gone.
He slammed his fist on the roof of the classic car, his eyes being enveloped with black as he took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.
After a few moments, Sam unscrewed the cap from one of the bottles and downed it in one go.
…
TBC
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