A/N: Yay! So I finally got started on part two! If you haven't read part one, you can find it on my profile. It's called Hell's Protege, previously called Hell's Little Girl.

After he sacrificed himself for Caterina, Dean didn't wake up for a while. In the burst that activated the Celestial Escalator, the connection between Heaven and Hell, he, Crowley, and Golchen were transported to Heaven. It was completely deserted of angels, just like Crowley had predicted. The only inhabitants were the few worker angels who had been tasked with the reconstruction of what was left of Heaven. For Crowley, they were easily taken care of. But Dean? That was another issue.

It was too bad, really. Crowley actually liked Dean. If it had been Caterina who was sacrificed, like he'd planned, then this all would be going along much smoother. He'd turn Caterina into a demon, then task her with bringing him back to life if he ever died again. So now he had to make do.

Dean sacrificing himself for Caterina ended up the way one would suspect. He died. As Crowley had originally planned to do with Caterina, Crowley took his demonic power and sculpted Dean's soul. He didn't change it much or alter the Winchester's character. He instead colored the soul black. And when Dean woke up, his soul would match the color of his eyes.

Dean awoke in his childhood bed, in his own little corner of Heaven. A demon, demon hunter in Heaven. His face was scratched and slightly burnt from the earlier fights in the warehouse. In the chair where his mother used to read him stories, Crowley sat staring fondly at his creation.

"Your brother, bless his soul, is summoning me as I speak. Make a deal, bring you back. It's exactly what I was talking about, isn't it? It's all become so... expected. You have to believe me. When I decided to use your Caterina as the sacrifice, I didn't know this was going to happen. Not really. I mean, I might not have told you or her the entire truth. But I never lied. I never lied, Dean. That's important. It's fundamental. I acted. But...there is thing about the plan that I might have... forgotten to tell you. After I took Miss Winchester's life, I wanted to use her. I would bring her back, the way I am bringing you back. I wanted her to live. But I didn't know. I didn't know if it was truly possible. You can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation? It wasn't until you defeated evil time and time again... No, it wasn't truly until you did the unthinkable and took in the poor girl...that I began to let myself believe. Maybe miracles do come true.

"Listen to me, Dean Winchester, what you're feeling right now- it's not death. It's life- a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon."

So Dean did. He blinked his eyes open. And they were no longer beautiful green. They were just like Crowley had said. A deep, terrible black, matching the empty wretchedness of his soul and the dark abyss of Hell.

Then Dean jolted. He shot up from the covers. He came right back down, his eyes shut once more the moment the back of his head came in contact with the pillow..

Crowley smiled. "You'll get used to it, Squirrel."

After Dean sacrificed himself for her, Caterina started to notice the effects of the Celestial Escalator. Demons hardly ever wandered around on Earth. Crowley and Golchen were impossible to reach. Angels were locked out of Heaven again. Her incredible learning skills stayed, but Sam's happiness and Castiel's sense of being just disappeared. Castiel now sulked around with her and Sam. Sam became cold. He seldom showed the nice, kind side of him. He was obsessed with bringing Dean back. He tried selling his soul, sending Cas to Heaven, finding the Celestial Escalator, and summoning Crowley and Golchen, but none of that worked.

And Caterina? She immersed herself in learning. When she wasn't being shuttled to and from different locations by Sam, she "borrowed" cars to learn to drive. She convinced Cas to take her to learn gymnastics and martial arts. She knew Sam wouldn't have the time. And when Caterina finally fell asleep, all she saw was the ring of fire and Dean's disappointed face.

She gave up on going to school a while ago. That was why she was currently at the local library, reading the books she found interesting. As she read through, the explanation of Norse gods in fine print began to swim and blur in her eyes. She blinked, trying to clear it. Panic rose up in her. She knew her lack of sleep was the cause of this. Her insomnia had to eventually catch up with her.

Unfortunately, even after blinking several times, Caterina only felt more dizzy. As she passed out into the old library armchair, the only thing she saw clearly among her swirling vision was an image of Dean shaking his head at her, a reminder of the source of her insomnia. When her head sank into the worn linen, she whispered the only thing that could help her now.

Sam stepped into the motel room, peeling off his blood-streaked jacket. Cas looked away from the window to glance at the hard-faced man, before looking back at the cars rushing by.

"Do you ever think..." the angel mused aloud, "that all your work may be for nothing?"

The question was left hanging, but they both knew the answer.

"Where's Caterina?" Sam asked.

"If I am not wrong, she is still at the library," Cas answered curtly.

Sam frowned even more, if that was possible. "She should be back by now. The library closes in ten minutes."

Cas started to look at Sam, but suddenly a sound hit his ears and, on cue, he disappeared from the motel room.

"Cas!" Sam exclaimed in irritation to the empty room.

Cas reappeared in the library, in front of Caterina's slumped body. He set the book on a nearby shelf. Then, he lifted the girl up and flew her back to Sam.

When Sam saw Caterina asleep in Cas's arms, the first thing he did was panic and check her pulse. Death had become unhealthily common for him. Only after he confirmed she was alive did he notice the steady rise and fall of her chest, indicating her breathing, and her furrowed brows and shivers. He took Caterina from Cas and set her on her bed. He gently smoothed out the crinkled skin between her eyebrows.

Since it had been just him and her on the road, he no longer needed to rent a separate room or request a sofa bed for her. As for Cas, it was a commonly known fact that angels didn't sleep. Instead, he claimed the desk and stayed there, thinking for the whole time.

Sam frowned at the pain and exhaustion present on Caterina's face. He looked at the angel. "What's wrong with her?"

Cas smiled slightly. "Insomnia. She dreams of Dean dying."

Sam's expression softened when he gazed back at Caterina. He pulled the covers away from where they were folded under the mattress and tucked her into the sheets. He had been so busy trying to bring Dean back that he hadn't even looked to see how she was doing.

Sam collapsed onto his own bed and buried his face in his hands. "I'm so tired, Cas." Cas didn't reply. "I've tried in every way possible to get Dean back. I can't summon Crowley because he's in Heaven. I can't even take care of Caterina. What am I supposed to do?" He looked at the angel for help, or maybe some words of comfort.

But all Cas said was, "I'm afraid you're asking the wrong angel."

When Caterina awoke in the backseat of the Impala, it felt like her first day all over again. Unaware of where she was, what had happened to her, or what was happening.

She yawned and pushed herself upright. The grid pattern of the blanket around her left imprints on her skin and the much-needed sleep left her feeling refreshed but also dazed.

"Twelve hours," Sam said. "Longest you've slept since I met you."

She stretched out her limbs. "Where are we going?"

"Visiting an old friend. I don't know why Dean and I never thought to visit him before."

"Who?"

"Chuck Shurley."

"The prophet," Cas noted from his position in the passenger seat.

"Didn't all the prophets die? Like your friend Kevin?" Caterina asked.

"Not Chuck. He's a different kind of prophet. Kind of like a Winchester specialist."

She frowned, her sleepiness still slowing her thought. "Winchester specialist?"

"Long story," Sam said. "But we have time."

The clock read 8:30 a.m. Sam speculated they would reach Chuck's house by 11:40 and he knew that, sleepy or not, Caterina would want a story. And besides, she deserved to know. Her whole encounter with Chuck would be a lot easier if she knew about him.

"Chuck is a writer," Sam explained. "He goes under the penname Carver Edlund. He writes a book series called Supernatural."

"One day, they will be known as the Winchester Gospels," Cas added.

Caterina yawned pulled her blanket more tightly around her. Early November mornings were cold. It didn't matter where they were in the States. "Okay."

"He gets visions about events that have to do with Dean and me," Sam continued, "And he writes them down. We met him at least five years ago. Haven't seen him since I went to Hell."

"Why not?"

He frowned. "It never came up, I guess. He might know how to get Dean back."

"I hope so," she murmured. "How long?"

"Three hours."

"'Kay. Wake me…" Her eyes fluttered shut, "...up… then…." And she drifted off, the soft hum of the engine eased to a soft silence.

Sam left Caterina in the car with Cas when he went up to knock on Chuck's dirty front door. When no one answered after three tries and several calls of "Chuck? It's Sam! Open up!", Sam cautiously pulled out a gun and tried the door. It creaked open easily.

He rested the barrel of the gun on the edge of the door. He counted to three and burst through the threshold, spinning around to get a good look without letting his guard down. As he searched the house, he found no sign of Chuck anywhere. The house looked like it hadn't been lived in for at least a week.

On the kitchen table, among about ten two-foot-tall stacks of Supernatural books, Sam found a note written in Chuck's messy handwriting.

Sam, the note scrawled, You won't find me here. Did you really think it would be that easy? Anyway, I know you'll need me to get Dean back, so here's a hint: "No, He's not on any flatbread." -Castiel, 'Good God, Y'all' Supernatural Vol. 5, #2.

Sam was disappointed at the lack of Chuck in the house, but his heart skipped a beat at the sign of hope. A hint. He began rummaging through the stacks. Nine of them were at an even height of twenty three books. But the tenth stack only had five. Interested, Sam examined that measly stack. The book on the bottom, the first in the volume, was labeled "Lost Blood". Then there was "Don't Stop Believing", "High School Romance", "First Kill", and finally, "Hell's Protege". He tore his eyes from the written forms of his adventures with Caterina and focused back on the mission. He searched the stacks for volume five. When he found it, he carefully extracted the second book from the bottom of the pile.

He spent several minutes flipping through the pages until he hit a highlighted section. The cryptic hint was glaringly obvious.

He shut the book, keeping his finger at the right page, and bounded outside. "Cas!" He called, forgetting about keeping quiet for Caterina. "I know where to find Chuck!"