AUTHOR'S NOTES: Just a warning that this chapter is DARK and contains mentions of suicide. Nothing overly graphic, but I feel I should issue a warning just in case.

Also, if you haven't seen the news today: Osama bin Laden has finally been killed! I'd call that one for the 'win' comumn.

Chapter 4


It was nearly an hour before the holy fire died away and Castiel was able to leave the circle created on the motel room floor. But turning to the door to leave, he found his path blocked by Zachariah.

"Wow, Castiel," Zachariah said, with a smile of surprise. "Of all the angels that could have ended up in this position, you are the last one I expected. I mean, really? Whatever happened to 'Team Free Will'? You, Sam, and Dean against the world with your plucky sidekick, Bobby Singer?"

"What are you doing here?" Castiel asked, even though he knew what the answer would be.

All humor drained from Zachariah's face as he said, "I'm here to show you what will happen if you don't stop what you're doing."

Castiel soon found himself in a brightly lit hospital and looking at the date on a newspaper lying on a counter, he was surprised to see that he and Zachariah had only come 2 years into the future. "Where are we?" he asked, turning to the other angel.

"Mansfield Mental Hospital," Zachariah replied, leading Castiel down the hallways and finally stopping at a room. Inside, a man in his 30's lay in a hospital bed, intubated and his eyes wide and fearful. "Thought we'd stop by to see some old friends."

"Sam," Castiel said, horrified as he recognized the young hunter. "What happened to him?"

Zachariah shrugged as he walked over to the bed. "Well, a funny thing. You see shortly after you finally managed to kill Raphael and Crowley, the wall in Sam's head came down. And I mean, hard. At first Sam was just violent. Screaming all the time, lashing out at anyone who got near him. Now the doctors keep him locked in a paralytic state."

Castiel walked up to Sam, but when he tried to put a hand on his friend's shoulder, it went through as though Sam was a ghost. "What about Dean?"

As soon as the angel asked the question, he found himself in another room lined with heavy padding. There was only a mattress on the floor and a thin, dark-haired man sitting in a corner. When Cas heard the door of the padded cell open, he was a bit relieved to see Bobby Singer come in.

"Hey, Dean," Bobby said, tentatively as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"You see Sam?" Dean asked, as he slowly stood, keeping his distance from his friend.

"No change," Bobby replied, backing away quickly as Dean suddenly charged the opposite wall, pounding his fists against the padding, clawing at the layers covering the concrete walls as he let out one anguished scream after another.

Castiel couldn't say anything—he could only watch as Dean finally screamed himself hoarse and fell onto the mattress, reaching a hand underneath to slowly pull out a flannel shirt that he hugged tightly as though it were the most precious thing in the world.

"The last shirt Sam wore before ending up here," Zachariah explained, seeing Castiel's confused look. "At first, Dean was sure you could help. But you were too busy lording over Heaven to come down and visit the mere mortals and help your friends."

"And Dean?" Castiel asked, wondering what had happened that the young, strong hunter was now curled up on the bare mattress, sobbing as he held all that he had left of his brother.

"Bobby finally had Dean committed after the fifth suicide attempt," the older angel replied, frowning. "And for the first few months, Dean was kept under 24 hour watch and sedated. Bobby sold the salvage yard and his house and the Impala to cover Sam and Dean's hospital expenses."

Hearing Dean whisper something, Castiel cautiously stepped closer, dropping to his knees when he heard Dean praying. "Dean," he tried, knowing that it was useless, but determined to try nonetheless.

"He can't hear you," Zachariah cautioned. "Even if he could, you wouldn't like the result."

Standing quickly, Castiel turned to face his former superior. "What are you talking about?" but when the other angel pointed to Dean's wrists and arms, Cas turned to look, gaping at the ragged scars on the man's arms.

"He tried to cut his wrists using just his nails," Zachariah said, wishing he didn't have to be the one to do this. He hadn't wanted this gig at all. But other forces had pressed him into it and he had no choice. "You tried to talk to Dean about a year ago and he went postal."

Castiel looked at his friend—his brother on Earth—and asked, "And what of me?"

The other angel gave him a cold smile and the two were winged to a field where a man with blonde hair stood, looking about expectantly.

To Castiel's surprise, he saw himself appear next to the man, looking even more ragged than ever.

"You shouldn't have come, Castiel," Balthazar warned, all warmth gone from his eyes. "You know the orders."

"You have to save Sam," future-Castiel implored, desperately. "Please. If I have done nothing else good here, at least help me do that."

"And why should I?" Balthazar snapped, angrily. "This was your mess, Castiel. And once again you want everyone else to clean it up."

"I did what I had to do to win the war," future-Castiel pressed. "Sam's soul won it for us."

"Yes, and at the cost of the wall keeping his memories of Hell at bay," Balthazar countered. "You really should have spent more time with Sam," he added. "Because compared to what awaits you in the cage, Sam's fate is a blessing."

"Then kill me yourself and be done with it!" future-Castiel shouted, angrily. "Prove to God that you are the better angel!"

Only then did the slightest trace of warmth touch Balthazar's eyes. "I would rather know that you're out there somewhere than know that you died by my hand. I can't do it, Cas. I never could, and you know it."

"You see, Castiel?" Zachariah said, as he watched future-Castiel vanish from the field. "You're hunted. The orders to all angels are to capture you alive and throw you in the cage with Lucifer… That is, if they don't kill you first."

"What have I done?" Castiel said to himself, hearing the catch in his voice.

"What haven't you done?" the other angel countered. "You've done every unconscionable thing in the book and you're surprised that this is how you end up? Really, Cas, I'm surprised. I always thought you were the smart one in the bunch."

Castiel felt the ground shake and the panic within him started to bubble over as the earth split between his feet. He started to fall, but clutched desperately for the deep-rooted weeds, clawing at the ground to keep from falling. Below, he saw the hellfire and heard the screams of the tortured souls, his heart turning to ice as he heard Michael's screams and Lucifer's laughter. "Please," he begged, looking frantically at Zachariah. "Help me!"

But Zachariah only gave a smile and a wave as Castiel's grip failed and he plunged into Hell, the fire burning him and blades slicing him as he landed in the cage. Looking upward, Castiel had one final glance at the earth above before the ground closed up, sealing him in Hell forever.