Chapter Two
Sam let out a huge sigh as he covered his brother with a blanket. Dean's nose had stopped bleeding shortly after he fell unconscious, and Sam had carried him upstairs to the bedroom the two of them always shared whenever they stayed at Bobby's. Wincing at the creak his knees gave as he stood up, he went into the bathroom and filled a bowl with water. He grabbed a washcloth on his way back into the bedroom and, settling himself beside his brother on the bed, he gently started wiping the dried trail of blood off of Dean's lax face.
"Come on back, big brother," Sam whispered. He finished wiping away the blood and set the wash basin on the bedside table just as he heard Bobby come into the bedroom. "Why does this stuff always happen to us? To him?" he asked quietly without taking his eyes off of Dean's face. He ran a hand through his brother's soft hair. Dean would never allow such an open display of affection while he was awake, so Sam took advantage of the fact that he wasn't to allow himself his own comfort.
"Comes with the territory, Sam," Bobby said. "'Sides, you two seem to attract bad luck. Makes me glad I'm not a Winchester." He crossed the room to stand beside Sam.
The corner of Sam's mouth raised up in a small smile. "Yeah, it does seem like we're magnets for all things unlucky sometimes, huh?"
Bobby let out a snort at that, but didn't reply. Instead he moved and sat down on the chair on the other side of the bed. The two men sat in silence for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.
Bobby pulled off his cap and scratched at his head. He cleared his throat and Sam looked up at him. "I've got a lead on a book that might have some info on this bonding thing," he said.
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "There's actually a book on it?" he asked, disbelief coloring his voice.
Bobby raised one shoulder in a shrug. "Well, there's at least one. Got a hold of a friend of mine who specializes in rituals. Thought it might be worth a shot."
"That's good news then. The more we know the better prepared we'll be when we get Cas out." He moved his hand from Dean's head down to grasp his hand. "So where's this friend of yours?"
"Not far. 'Bout an hour away. I'm gonna leave now, you gonna be all right lookin' after him for a bit?" Bobby replied, gesturing at Dean with the hat in his hand.
Sam smiled softly. "He's been looking after me his whole life. I can watch over him this time."
~*~*SPN*~*~
Castiel stumbled, catching himself on an outcropping of stone. Although he had been trying to keep to the shadows, several nearby demons had been able to sense his presence in the Pit. He had managed to take them all out, but not without sustaining damage. The bond strain had made him weaker than he had anticipated, and it showed in several places that steadily dripped blood from where the demons had been able to slash underneath his defenses.
Sensing no demons nearby for the moment, he paused for a moment to regroup. His wings continued to ache, and they had been growing heavier the deeper into Hell he went, and thus the farther from Dean, he progressed. He was grateful for the fact that the time difference between Hell and the real world that affected the disembodied souls did not affect angels.
Castiel stared at the path ahead of him as it curved sharply to the right. He hoped he was on the right track to the cage, but all he had to go on was that first demon's tell. This level of Hell was full of treacherous terrain. Jagged rocks jutted out from every angle, like claws attempting to escape the ground. Fire burned red on one side of the trail, casting a reddish glow over everything.
He pushed himself forward, blue eyes constantly scanning for danger. He reached up a hand to swipe at some blood that had dripped into his eye from a gash across his forehead. He had been distracted thinking about Dean and a demon had gotten the jump on him. It had slammed Castiel's head into a rock before he managed to stab it through it's neck with his angel blade. He didn't know if it was due to being in Hell or yet another side effect of the bond strain, but Castiel seemed unable to heal his wounds.
As he turned to head back the way he came, Castiel was thinking only of Dean how to finish the seemingly impossible task Raphael had set before him. He knew that when he got out of Hell, when he knew Dean was safe, he would find a way to ensure that Raphael never could threaten Dean again. The ache that arose in him then had nothing to do with the bond strain. Castiel knew he was seriously contemplating something that went against every angelic instinct he had, and a small part of him grieved that he had been brought to this. But he would find a way, and he would do it. For Dean. Because in the end, he knew he would always choose Dean.
~*~*SPN*~*~
"Sam, I mean it. I'm fine!" Dean growled as he pushed himself off the bed.
Sam clenched his jaw. "Dean, you've been unconscious for three hours. You are not fine! The shock might have worn off but I can still see plain as day that you're not okay. Just, please stop with the pretending." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his sibling. "At least take some meds to help with the headache that I know you have."
Dean rolled his eyes. God, he hated it when his brother treated him like an invalid. "Whatever. At least let me take a piss, first, Samantha." He pushed past Sam and headed towards the bathroom. As soon as the door closed and he was alone, Dean let the weakness he was still feeling show.
He sat down heavily on the toilet and scrubbed his hands down his face. When Sam had explained why he had fallen unconscious, and that Cas would also be feeling the effects down in Hell, Dean had felt his heart seize up in his chest. "Cas, man, I need you to be okay," he whispered. "I don't know if you can hear me down there, but if you can you need to get back here. Don't open the cage, Cas. Not for me."
He sat there for a few more minutes thinking about Cas and how to help him, if that was even possible, when Sam knocked quietly on the door.
"Dean? You okay in there?"
As Dean glanced towards the door, his previous frustration at Sam ebbed away, and he sighed. "Yeah, man. I'll be out in a minute." He heard Sam's footprints hesitate before receding, and stood up to splash some water on his face. As he did so, his gaze fell on his reflection in the mirror. His face was pale, and his freckles stood out in stark relief, which made him grimace - he hated his freckles - along with the dark circles under his eyes that gave him a bruised look. All in all, he looked like crap.
He drew his eyes away from his reflection, and gave himself a mental shake. He had to get himself back in the game if he was going to help Cas. He finished taking care of his business, and headed downstairs, where his brother was waiting for him with a glass of water and a couple of white pills.
"Just fast-acting painkillers, Dean. They won't make you loopy or drowsy, I promise," Sam said, as he dropped the pills into Dean's hand and held out the glass.
He nodded his thanks and gave Sam a small smile. He swallowed the pills dry, ignoring the water and Sam's accompanying eye roll. "So, we get any closer to figuring out how to help Cas?" he asked hopefully.
Sam shook his head. "Sorry, Dean." He followed his brother into the kitchen and watched him as he poured a steaming cup of coffee. "Water would be bett-"
"Shut up, Sam," Dean said, but without rancor. He took a sip and grimaced at the strength of it. He liked his coffee strong, but Bobby took it to a whole new level. He turned and faced Sam, leaning heavily against the sink. "So we're still at square one then, huh?" Sam didn't reply, just nodded his head. Dean chewed his lower lip, and glanced around. "Where's Bobby?"
"Out in the yard somewhere. Said he needed some fresh air to think." Sam walked over and helped himself to a mug of coffee. He pulled a carton of milk from Bobby's fridge and sniffed it, then shrugged and poured it into his cup. He sat down at the kitchen table and looked at Dean. "So, is it like... I mean, can you, uhh," He cleared his throat at Dean's raised eyebrow. "Can you feel Cas? Like, through this bond?"
Dean set his coffee down, gripped the edge of the counter in his hands and eyed his brother. "That's sorta private, Sam," he muttered.
"No, yeah, I mean, I know that. I was just wondering, is all." Sam flicked his eyes back down to the coffee in his hands and fiddled with the handle.
An awkward silence fell over them. Dean sighed inwardly. His headache was pounding a steady beat behind his eyes, not as severe as earlier, but still there. The pills had done nothing, as he knew they would. He had only taken them to appease Sam. He looked at his brother and sighed again, this time out loud. Sam looked up at him hopefully.
"I could at first, kind of. At least, a sense of him." Dean trailed off, his eyes went distant as he tried to feel the bond, to feel Cas. When he couldn't feel anything, he came back to himself and shook his head sadly. "Now there's just...nothing." He sniffed, and didn't look at his brother as he pushed himself off the counter and left the room without another word.
Sam was left staring at his brother's still steaming mug of coffee, contemplating what he had just heard.
~*~*SPN*~*~
Dean stared blankly at the wall in his and Sam's bedroom. Rather, it would appear to anyone who walked in that Dean was staring blankly at the wall. In reality, he was desperately trying to contact his angel along the bond the two of them shared. Only when he was behind closed doors, away from Sam and Bobby's prying eyes, was he able to let his mask drop. He couldn't let the two of them see how much this was affecting him.
After he was unable to feel Cas's familiar essence, he closed his eyes with a helpless sigh. "Dammit," he growled to himself. "I'm gonna shove my angel blade so far up Raphael's ass the next time I see him it'll come out his fucking nose!" He angrily pounded his fists into the sheet beneath him. "Fuck!"
The thought of Cas once again in Hell, and once again to save his sorry ass, made a shudder go down Dean's spine. Memories of his own time spent in Hell tried to rise to the surface, but he pushed them down forcefully. Now was not the time. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. He sat for a few minutes, raising a hand up to knead at the tension in the back of his neck. There had to be some way he could help Cas. Some way...
A thought struck him and he shot up from the bed.
~*~*SPN*~*~
When Bobby walked into his kitchen an hour later, a large leather bound book carried under one arm, Sam was still sitting in the same position he had been when Dean left the kitchen. He didn't look up when he walked in.
Bobby paused and watched Sam for a moment, before heading over to the fridge and pulling out a beer. The sound of the bottle opening seemed to startle Sam out of his thoughts.
He turned to Bobby and glanced at the bottle in his hand. "A little early to start hitting the booze, wouldn't you say, Bobby?" he said with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk.
"It's my house, boy. I'll drink whenever I damn well feel like it." He took a long pull from the bottle and went over to sit at the table. "Sleeping Beauty wake up yet?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah. He seems to be feeling better, I guess."
Bobby scratched at his beard and took another swig. "I'm sensing a 'but' in there."
A shrug. "I don't know. His nose isn't bleeding and he's awake, so, better, ya know? But I don't think he'll be okay until we find a way to get Cas back." Sam paused before chuckling softly. "I still can't believe they finally admitted their feelings for each other. Dean especially. You know how he is about anything to do with emotion."
"Yep. I do. Where'd he get off to, anyway?"
"Probably looking in your books for a way to help Cas," Sam sighed. "That's my guess, at least. He went into your study then back upstairs about an hour ago." He stood up and stretched, wincing at the popping of his spine. He headed over to the coffee pot to refill his cup. "Want one?" he asked with a glance over to Bobby.
"Nah, I'm good with my brew."
"So were you able to find out anything on angelic bondings?" Sam asked quietly, glancing at the book on the table as he sat back down in his seat.
Bobby pulled his cap off and scratched his head. "Nothin' terribly useful." He waved at the book in front of him. "This one here is the one that Tom had, and it has a damn sight more than any of mine, but still didn't really have diddly squat that's useful to us at the moment. Near as I could find, it's never even happened between an angel and a human. 'Course, leave it to that brother o' yours to do things differently." Sam's head bobbed in agreement. "I guess there's some sort of ritual involved, but it didn't go into detail. Just gotta wait and see, I guess. 'Course, first we gotta get that angel o' Dean's outta Hell."
There was a pregnant pause as both hunters stared into their drinks. Finally, Sam raised his eyes and looked over at Bobby. "So, typical day for us, huh?"
Bobby grinned ruefully and nodded. "Yup, pretty much." He sat up straighter before flipping the book open and finding a page. He turned it towards Sam and tapped it with his finger. "Oh, I should mention there was some mention of this bond strain, though. Guess their Grace will weaken and essentially cause a helluva lotta problems until they're reunited and complete the ritual. Again, that's between two angels, and last I checked, your brother was still human."
Sam was quiet for a moment as he scanned the page Bobby had shown him. A frown creased his forehead as he read. When he finished he looked back up at Bobby. "This isn't good. One thing I don't get though. Dean doesn't have any Grace, and this is still affecting him somehow. So what could be changing in him?"
Bobby opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted as Dean burst into the kitchen. "I've got it!" he cried. "We call Crowley!" He looked between his brother and Bobby excitedly.
The two hunters stared open-mouthed at Dean. Sam blinked owlishly at his brother, but Bobby recovered quickly. "Well, I'm glad to see you're feeling better. Secondly, what do you mean, call Crowley, ya idjit! Just call up the King of Hell and expect him to play nice?"
"Yeah, Bobby, that's exactly what I mean."
Bobby just raised an eyebrow at him.
Dean glowered at Bobby. "He helped us before. He wants Lucifer to stay in the cage just as much as we do." He glanced at Sam, searching for his brother's support. Sam was biting at his lip, looking as nervous as he always did at the mention of Lucifer and the cage. Dean felt a brief pang of remorse for bringing it up in front of Sam, but it was quickly drowned by the need to get to Castiel. Sam was strong, and Dean was certain the memories would stay buried. Besides, Dean was not going to let Sam anywhere near the cage. This was his plan, and he would see it through himself. "Sammy?" he questioned.
Sam let out a deep breath. "I get what you're saying, Dean, I do." Now it was Bobby's turn to glare, but Sam held up his hand. "But what's your plan here? I mean, are just expecting to call Crowley up and just politely ask for his help?" Dean opened up his mouth to reply but Sam kept talking. "And say he does agree to help, who's to say he doesn't turn around and stab us, or Cas, in the back?"
Dean felt his shoulders deflate a little at Sam's reluctance. But there was no denying in his mind that this was his best shot, at helping, at retrieving his angel. "I'm not saying we blindly trust him. I know he's a demon, Sam, and a complete asshole to boot. But what other choice do we have here? Bobby's books don't have anything, and it's not like we can just call up Raphael and ask him nicely to please change his mind and fetch Cas back." He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away from Sam and Bobby.
"Dean?" Sam stood up and moved towards his brother. "You still feeling sick?" he asked worriedly.
Dean waved a hand back at them without turning around. "'M fine, just still got a bit of a headache, that's all."
"Do you need-"
"I said I'm fine, Sam." He swallowed heavily then turned around and looked at his brother and Bobby. "Look, I'm gonna contact Crowley. If you guys aren't on board, then I'll just have to do it alone." He shook his head and started to walk away. Truth be told, a part of him was relieved that he would be on his own for this. The last thing he wanted to do was put either Sam or Bobby in danger. Still, he knew that Bobby and Sam were both smarter than he was. And he was okay with being the muscle, but having their brains on board would have been a good thing, too.
Bobby and Sam looked from Dean to one another. Finally, Sam sighed. "Fine, Dean. But if you're going to do this, you gotta be honest with us."
Dean turned and looked at Sam, eyebrow quirked up. "Huh?"
"He's talkin' about your health, Dean." Bobby piped up from his spot at the table. When Dean's green eyes turned to him, Bobby continued. "This bond thing you got goin' with that angel of yours can cause a lot of issues if we don't get you two lovebirds back together soon." He jabbed a finger at the book on the table, ignoring Dean's glare. "Now I don't know how it'll affect you 'cause you're human, but I do know it already has. And if you're gonna cozy up to the King of Hell, you need to let me and Sam know when you aren't feeling one hundred percent," he finished sternly. When Dean opened his mouth to reply, a snarky look on his face, Bobby slammed his hand down, startling both Winchesters. "This ain't up for discussion, boy! Understand what I'm sayin'?"
Dean's mouth snapped shut, and he instinctively straightened his shoulders at Bobby's tone, eerily reminiscent of John Winchester. "Yes, sir," he replied automatically.
Bobby sat back, seemingly satisfied. "Now, before we go callin' up demons, how do you feel?"
Green eyes flicked between Sam and Bobby, as Dean shifted uncomfortably. He hesitated, before slumping defeated with a sigh. "Head's pounding. Feel sorta..." he paused, searching for the right word, "stretched out, I guess." He shrugged. "But I'm fine, really. I feel better than I did earlier. And once I get Cas back, I'll be even better," he added helpfully.
Bobby nodded, as though Dean had confirmed something he already knew. Sam raised his hand to his mouth and started chewing on a fingernail, a surefire sign since he was a kid that he was worried. Dean hated when Sam did that, and he stepped over to his brother and swatted his hand down. Dean felt horrible for being the cause of Sam's worry, and it seemed to be happening more and more lately. He swallowed down his guilt with a promise to make it up to his brother later.
He pulled out his phone, and when neither Sam nor Bobby made any move to stop him, he flipped it open and scrolled down to Crowley's name. He took a deep breath and hit send, before bringing the phone up to his ear.
After a couple rings, the sound of the call connecting reached his ears, followed by a smarmy voice. "Squirrel. To what do I owe this dubious honor? Start any apocalypses lately?"
Dean grit his teeth. The reply he wanted to make burned like acid on his tongue, but he held himself in check. He needed Crowley at the moment, and pissing off the King of Hell when his angel was trapped down in the Pit didn't seem smart. "Hello to you too, Crowley," he bit off. "We need to talk."
~*~SPN~*~
The three hunters stood in a half circle in the woods near Bobby's house, facing the lone figure wearing a black suit. Sam and Bobby each held a shotgun filled with rock salt and a flask of holy water, while Dean clenched Ruby's demon killing knife in his grip.
Crowley spread his hand out to his sides in a non-threatening gesture and smirked. "Quite the welcome party you know how to throw there, Dean," he said with a smirk. "Might I remind you that you asked to meet me?"
Dean sent back a smirk of his own. "Oh, I haven't forgotten Crowley. I also remember that you're a fuckin' demon who wouldn't mind seeing us dead."
"Touché," Crowley replied. "And now that the niceties are out of the way, what was so important you felt you needed my help for?"
"Raphael is trying to open the cage, and he's using Cas to do it."
Crowley's eyebrows shot up. "Not beating around the bush then, I see. That's what I always liked about you, Dean. You're brash and to the point."
Dean glowered in the demon's direction. "Stuff it, Crowley, you've never liked me."
A shrug. "Fair enough. I'm not gonna deny that point. Now, what exactly do you want?"
Dean took a deep breath to calm himself. He felt Sam and Bobby step up beside him in a show of support, and he felt a swell of gratitude towards them. He would do whatever it took to get Cas back, but knowing he had Sam and Bobby at his back helped ease some of the agony he felt every time he thought of his angel in the Pit. "I want you to get Cas out of Hell." Before Crowley could open his mouth to reply, Dean hurriedly pointed out, "You stand to lose just as much if Lucifer gets out, so it's in your best interest here too, ya know."
Crowley tilted his head, the gesture reminding Dean uncomfortably of Cas. He didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at Dean, lips pursed thoughtfully. The hunter shifted uneasily under the scrutiny. Damn, but his head had already been pounding, now the ache seemed to grow with the intensity of Crowley's gaze. It felt like he was trying to see into Dean, and even though he knew the demon couldn't read his mind, the strength of it caused the pounding in his head to reach new levels.
"Can you do it or not, Crowley?" Sam piped up from beside his brother, having noticed Dean's discomfort, and trying to draw the demon's attention from his brother.
Crowley's eyes flicked to Sam, before returning to stare at Dean. "Sure I can, Moose," he drawled. "But, it'll cost ya. An eye for an eye, so to speak. A 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' sort of deal, hey?" He leaned towards Dean and inhaled deeply.
"What the fuck are you doin'?" Dean leaned back, a disgusted look on his face.
Crowley suddenly grinned, a chuckle escaping his throat. "Well, that's certainly not unexpected," he chortled. At the confused looks sent his way, he gestured towards Dean with one hand. "You reek of angel. I can smell your boyfriend all over you." Dean's cheeks flushed. "I can get your loverboy back for you, but like I said, there's something I want you to get for me."
Sam sighed. "The fact that the cage would stay closed isn't enough?" Crowley shook his head with a smirk. "Well, then what do you want, Crowley?"
Crowley scratched his chin with one hand. "There's a ring currently on display at the Field Museum of Natural History. A Ring of Ammit. Damn placed is warded up the wazoo against demons, thanks to a few hunters some years back. I need you to get it for me. Do that and I'll make sure you get your 'lovers reunion'."
"Ammit?" Bobby spoke up for the first time. "She's the Egyptian Devourer of the Dead. What's this ring do, then?"
"There's bit of a 'soul shortage' crisis in Hell." Crowley shrugged. "The ring will help that out. Pulls the souls of the damned from the Void and sends them down to me, where they should be."
Sam snorted. "Thereby making more demons and making Hell more powerful, right?"
"Spot on, Moose. That's why they say you're the brains of the family!"
Dean said nothing, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. He didn't want to see something like this in Crowley's hands, but he didn't really see any other choice. The King of Hell was his best shot at getting Cas back and ensuring Raphael didn't start another apocalypse. Surely when Cas was back safe and sound they could all figure out a way to stop Crowley together? He just needed to play along with the demon until Cas was back. He reached a decision and stepped forward, but was halted by a hand on his arm. He looked over and saw his brother's face set into hard lines.
Sam spun him around. He shot a glare in Crowley's direction. "Give us a minute, Crowley," he snapped.
Crowley just raised an eyebrow. "Tick tock," he said sarcastically. Bobby raised his gun and trained it on him with a snarled, "Shut-it".
Sam pulled his brother away toward the tree line, stopping when he felt they were out of hearing range. He dropped his hand from Dean's arm and whirled on him. "Dean, you can't seriously be considering this," he hissed.
"Sam, I-" Dean started quietly, before Sam interrupted him.
"No, you need to really think of the ramifications here, Dean! If Crowley gets his hands on something like that, there's no telling what-"
This time it was Dean who interrupted. "I know, Sam!" he shouted, not caring if Crowley or Bobby heard. He raised his hands and pushed his brother in the chest. Hard. Sam's eyes widened and he staggered back with the force of the push, not expecting it at all. Dean advanced a step forward. "I know, okay?" His voice quieted, and he ran a hand over his mouth. Sam watched him warily, but refrained from saying anything else, choosing instead to let Dean continue. "And if this goes sideways, it'll be on me. But it's Cas. And I can't- I don't-" Dean's breath hitched, and for a moment, just a moment, Dean's defenses came down, and Sam got a glimpse of how much Cas's disappearance was affecting his brother, before the wall slammed back up and Dean's eyes hardened. "I'm doing this, Sam. I'll deal with the consequences later, but right now? I'm gonna go get my angel back."
He spun on his heels and marched back towards where Bobby stood watch over Crowley. He strode past Bobby, gripping the demon killing knife tightly as he went.
Crowley crossed his arms and smirked at Dean as he came closer. "Is it a deal, then?"
Dean raised a finger and jabbed Crowley in the chest. "I want your word nothing will happen to Cas, Crowley. If anything happens to him, I will never stop hunting you. And when I find you, I will jab this," he paused and brought the knife up to Crowley's face, the tip resting right under the demon's eye, "so far up your ass every demon in Hell will feel it."
Crowley's eyes flicked down to the knife and back up to Dean's face, but he didn't back away. "I'm a demon of my word, Dean. Crossroads, remember? I'll get your angel for you, as long as you get what I want."
Dean lowered the knife and stepped back a step, sheathing it was he did. A quick glance behind him showed Sam and Bobby watching him. Neither looked pleased with what he was about to do, but they didn't move to stop him again either. For that, he was grateful. This was something he had to do. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the demon in front of him. "Deal." When Crowley took a step towards him, Dean's eyes widened and he held up a hand to stop him. "Woah, what do you think you're doing?"
Crowley paused before leering at Dean. "Sealing the deal," he said, and stepped forward again.
Dean heard both Sam and Bobby choke down laughter behind him despite the tension in the air. "No way! This ain't a Crossroads deal, Crowley. You are getting nowhere near my lips!"
The demon sighed dramatically. "Fine, you'd probably taste like angel anyways." He held up his hand, fingers poised to snap. "We'll be in touch." A wink, and then he was gone.
