A/N: And now, the final chapter. Thanks for your kind reviews. :)
Castiel found himself reeling backward as a hard fist connected with the side of his face. He tasted blood as his back found the wall. Stunned, his breath catching in his chest, he stared wide-eyed toward where the blow had came from.
A figure had separated itself from the light, seeming to glow of its own accord, brighter than the fading, smiting light. Two more figures stepped forward, flanking the one who stood in the front. The hunters. They had survived. The thought made Castiel's head spin.
"I told you, Cas," Dean spoke, stepping forward until he came into view, the light fading from everything but his eyes, "I don't wanna do this." His voice quavered slightly. "We still...need you, Cas. You're still our brother." He held out his hand as if expecting Castiel to reach out and take it. "It's not too late to save yourself."
Silence passed between them as the angel regarded his long-time friend. He found himself at a loss. He was wounded. Left alone for so long, fending for himself, he found himself struggling to believe that his Father was back in control. Now that he had all the power of the universe coursing through his veins, he was reluctant to let it go. Yet, with all the power of the universe, he'd found himself unable to level the three men.
Dean remained as he stood, his hand stretched imploringly out to Castiel. "C'mon, Cas."
Decidedly, the dark-haired angel knocked Dean's hand aside, his eyes blazing. "He abandoned me." He stood straight, adjusting his trenchcoat. "The universe needs a leader who's not going to grow tired and abandon everything to its own fate. I am that leader."
Sam's jaw worked as he thought back to his own father and the pain that he and his brother had been through. "No, Cas, you're not." Sadness seemed to seep from his body, permeating the air. "You're too good for that."
He blinked. "Too good?" He pushed himself away from the wall, his fists clenched at his side.
Dean couldn't help but notice the defiance that squared Castiel's shoulders. He'd felt it too, so many times before, like when his father would stumble in after months on a hunt, having left him and his brother alone, leaving them to learn how to fend for themselves at such a young age. Love had always won out though, and the defiance had left him as soon as he'd been able to look upon his father's face. No matter how many times he'd left them, he'd always came back, and deep down, Dean had always known it was for the greater good. A sudden understanding washed over him as he drew the parallels between his father's work and what God had done. For the greater good, God had stepped aside. He'd left the angels to discover how the universe worked, left them to their own devices to show them what He constantly dealt with in hopes that they would find that what He did wasn't easy.
"C'mon, Cas," he asserted again. "Let's end this now."
Castiel knocked the hand aside, a cold anger fueling his movements as his fist connected with Dean's jaw, knocking the young hunter back against his brother. Quickly rebounding, Dean returned the blow, landing a hard punch to the angel's midsection.
Bobby and Sam found themselves pushed out of the way, shoved against the wall as Dean and Castiel duked it out in the middle of the room, their blows landing with bone-crushing force. This wasn't their fight, not yet. The two who faced each other had their own problems to work out, their own frustrations and fears.
Dean matched Castiel punch for punch, drawing blood and tasting his own blood in his mouth. His knuckles were raw, bruised, and torn, bleeding even as they made contact with his target. Castiel's was no better, blood staining the tan of this trench coat and dotting his white shirt. Yet the fight continued, angry yells filling the air.
The older Winchester stumbled backward, his back finding the ground as Castiel kneed his midsection and knocked his feet from under him. The angel towered above his prey, his face almost unrecognizable. Dean quickly swept his legs around, knocking the angel off balance so he could scramble to his feet, regrouping only a few steps away.
Panting, he watched Castiel pace slowly toward him, calculating the distance and his best angle for attack. He rushed forward, catching Cas around the middle and ramming him against the wall, winding his opponent.
While he had the advantage, he pummeled his fists against the angel's ribs, feeling them give in protest to the abuse, feeling the crack beneath his knuckles. Castiel cried out, pushing himself from the wall and driving Dean back, landing an uppercut to his chin that sent him flying across the room.
"Dean!" Sam cried, his eyes wide as time seemed to slow. His brother's body found the floor hard and was still. He started to run to his brother's side, but found himself face to face with Castiel, the cold blue eyes seeming to pierce him to the soul. "Cas, no." He tried to push past him, only to find his knees as pain flooded through his gut.
"What's the matter, Sam? This is what you wanted, remember?" Cas spat, drawing back to land another knee to the younger Winchester's face.
Bobby rushed forward, then, his hands grasping the trench coat as he roughly yanked Castiel aside, attempting to throw him away from Sam as the younger man regained his footing. Cas' fist connected with Bobby's jaw, the crunch of breaking bones echoing across the room. Sam sprinted to his aide, his shoulder down low to catch the angel in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Sam straddled him, one hand fisted in the fabric of the angel's shirt, the other pummeling repeatedly into his face. Rage had turned his vision red, and he was oblivious to all that was happening around him.
Bobby, dizzy and in pain, stumbled to the older brother, finding the Colt laying only inches from his hand. He grasped the gun in a shaking hand, pulling back the hammer again and leveling it toward the two figures struggling across the room. Castiel had managed to find his feet again, swaying dangerously as he squared off against Sam. Without hesitating, Bobby squeezed the trigger, sending a bullet directly into Castiel's shoulder. The familiar hum of electricity filled the air as it made contact.
Stunned, the angel looked down at the would, his eyes widened in shock. He looked back to Bobby, and down at the Colt. "Impossible."
Unable to speak, the grizzled hunter merely trudged back across the room, drawing back the hammer again, the look on his face seeming to speak volumes. This is your last chance, Cas.
Sam moved quickly over to his brother, kneeling beside him. Dean's face was swollen, his eyes blackened, his nose oozing blood. It was impossible to tell if anything had been broken. Worried, he drew Dean into his arms.
"Come on, Dean, wake up," he murmured, checking for a pulse. He exhaled gratefully when he found his heart pumping strongly. Absently, Sam wiped at his brow, swiping away the blood that was dripping toward his eye.
"F've m're minu'es," Dean wheezed, his eyes cracking open slightly.
"Don't have five minutes, Dean." He offered his brother a hand up, steadying the semi-unconscious man on his feet. "You good?"
Another shot went off, catching their attention as Bobby's limp body slid to their feet, a very pale and shaking Castiel lowering his hand across the room. Cursing, Sam dove for the Colt that laid between them on the floor only to find himself being flung effortlessly backward, his head making contact with the hard wall, leaving him out cold.
Woozy and disoriented, Dean could only attempt to put one foot in front of the other, hoping that his balance held long enough to bring him toe-to-toe with Castiel. His breathing labored, he laid his hand on the angel's shoulder, peering into the cold eyes of what might be his death.
"This it, Cas?" came the eventual question, the words almost slurred beyond understanding. "This how it ends?"
"Yes, Dean." He drew back his fist. "This is how it ends." With all the force he could muster, he attacked his opponent, only to find the blow deflected.
Dean brought his own fist forward, connecting with Cas' nose, blood spurting beneath his hand. He drove his head back, his knee finding contact with his solar plexus, immobilizing the angel.
Unrelenting, Dean carried the momentum through, ignoring his own pain as he landed the finishing blow to the side of Castiel's face, drawing back to find that the angel laid lifeless beneath him. Grief clutching at his heart, he pushed himself to his feet, fishing in his pocket for a slip of paper before moving to the wall. Using his own blood, he began to draw, glancing back occasionally to make sure that Castiel was still down.
"I'm sorry, Cas," he murmured, double checking his work. He took a steadying breath, recalling what Chuck had told him the night before. Slowly, he reached his open palm down over Castiel's body, feeling the power surge through him. "Iagnua magna purgatorii, clausa est ob nos..." He felt the power of the souls flowing to him, just as he'd been told they would. The sensation was incredible. "Iagnua magna, aperta tandem!"
The room shook as the door to purgatory began to open beneath the blood spell that Dean had drawn. The older Winchester clenched his fist as he felt the last soul leave Castiel's body. It was easy to see now why Castiel had been so adamant about keeping them. The power was unbelievable. It was, however, not meant for the human body. Even with all the power alive inside him, he could feel his body giving way. It felt as if he were unraveling.
Forcing himself to concentrate, he purged the souls from his body, his head rushing as they were pushed back into purgatory. The ground shook, the walls swayed and cracked, and the door sealed itself, leaving them alone.
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Dean groaned, knocking Sam's hand away as he felt the sting of the whiskey against his open wound. "What're you tryin' to do? Kill me?"
"Don't be such a baby, Dean." Sam returned to the task at hand, the needle glinting in the sunlight that filtered through the window.
"Not bein' a baby," he grumbled defiantly, hissing through his teeth as the needle made contact with his skin.
They'd woken to find themselves back at Bobby's house with no sign of Castiel. Sam had assumed one of the angels had been sent to clean up the mess, but they had neglected to heal them. With much grumbling and groaning, they'd pushed themselves upright to find what first aide supplies they had. Bobby had been thankful to find that his jaw wasn't broken, which he suspected might have been Balthazar's doing. While still swollen and painful to talk through, he'd mumbled something about Balthazar and ijgit, drawing a chuckle from the younger Winchester.
Sam sat the needle down, tying off the dental floss stitch that closed off the last gaping wound on his brother's side, rocking back on his heel. Silence fell over the room then as the three men looked over each other, seemingly at a loss. It had felt like they were marching to their doom, yet here they were again, albeit much worse for the wear.
"I guess this means we're not done yet, huh?" Sam asked, looking down at his hands.
Dean sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the window seat. He ran his shaking hand through his hair. "We're never done, Sammy. I have a feeling the fun is just beginning..."
Fin!
A/N2: Well, that's that. More written for my benefit. If you're interested, this is the purgatory spell in full, complete with source. (Please excuse me, I tried to correct some of the Latin, but I'm terribly out of practice). However, leaving then ending open for a one-shot sequel. :D Hopefully, you'll come back to find out what happened to Castiel!
Iagnua magna purgatorii
Clausa est ob nos
Lumine eius ab oculis
Nostris retento.
Sed nunc stamus ad limen huius
Ianuae magnae et demisse
Fideliter perhonorifice
Paramus aperire eam.
Creaturae terrificae quarum ungulae
Et dentes nunquam tetigerunt
Carnem humanam aperit fauces
Eius ad mundum nostrum nunc.
Iagnua magna
Aperta tandem!
-from fanpop (dot) com
See you next time!