Angels in hell
Chapter II
Dean closed his eyes before pulling on the nails that were restraining him on the cross. He felt the pain flowing freely in his veins, but he didn't give up. The yellow-eyed demon was finally dead and he had been given a free ticket back to Earth. He wasn't going to waste it. Suddenly, the cries ceased around him and silence returned. Opening his eyes, a white light engulfed his vision, before he felt the nails pinning him on the wood leaving his hands and the ropes tying him falling freely to the floor. Without any support, Dean fell on his knees next to the crucifix.
He could still feel the blood on his arms, on his back. The pain was almost unbearable and getting back on his feet, he felt the pain in his back spreading once again. A figure surrounded of white light approached him, before a hand closed around his own hand, covering the holes that had been created by the nails. A strange coldness filled him, numbing the pain. Dean looked down at his other hand, confused. The skin was slowly healing, leaving no scars behind. Raising his head to see the healer that had been brought to him, Dean only noticed the white light and the white wings.
"Who are you?"
The cold feeling stopped altogether before the white light around the eternal being diminished, letting Dean see the true form of his savior. White angelic wings were folded in her back. Her whole body was covered by a white dress and she was as tall as he was. Her long curly brown hair was falling up to her shoulders and a smile lightened up her innocent features.
"I'm an angel of the true God. My name is insignificant in here as is yours."
Dean frowned, looking behind him. Arrows of fires were passing over their head, as were silver arrows. The fire had diminished and suddenly, Dean felt extremely vulnerable in that place of war. Turning his eyes back to the angel, Dean saw that she hadn't released his hand.
"Why were you all so eager to save me. Not that I aren't glad that you have done so, but I just can't wrap my mind unto the fact that you are all willing to sacrifice yourself to save my soul."
The angel smiled once more, unfolding her white wings and taking off to the borders of hell, Dean following behind her, his hand still clasped in hers. When they reached the borders of hell, the angel of God returned to the ground graciously.
"I fulfilled what I have been told to do. Now you must return on Earth. The call of our people will come to you soon. Farewell, Dean Winchester."
Immediately, Dean felt himself fall into nothingness. All senses characteristics of human's life faded and a strange and comforting numbness enveloped him.
Tears were trailing down Sam's cheek while he watched his brother's lifeless form on the hard wooden table. He knew he needed to salt and burn the body, but he couldn't put his heart into it. He had searched a whole year for a way to get Dean out of the deal. A year he had spend restless nights, searching in every book, every website he could think of, but still without a clue of how to save his big brother.
Now, it was too late. He had done everything he could think of, but it hadn't been enough.
"I'm sorry Dean…"
Sam's voice broke when he pronounced those simple words. He wanted desperately to broke down and cry his loss, but he couldn't. Dean had made it simple: "move on and get your ass back to Stanford". He wanted to follow his brother's last wish, but he couldn't. He needed to know who was the crossroad demon's leader. The one who had bluntly refused to let Dean out of the deal, even if one of his minion's life was compromised. He needed to know who it was so he could achieve his own personal revenge.
Sam approached the table, before laying his head on his brother's unmoving chest.
"I'm so sorry Dean… I told you I will find you a way out of the deal, but I didn't… I didn't…"
Sam's fist clenched on the fabric covering his brother's body. On the leather jacket that John, their father, had given his son on Dean's sixteenth birthday.
"I can't understand why you didn't want Ruby to help us. She said she had a way to save you, man, but you just refused. How could you do that to you? To me? Well, I guess it doesn't matter now…"
Sam stood up, taking out a flask of salt and a lighter.
"I just want you to remember that you were the best big brother that someone could dream of. You sacrificed so much for the family. So everyone could be happy and without a single thought to yourself… I wish I could do the same to you, but it's too late now…"
Sam sniffed loudly, before erasing his tears with his hand.
"Goodbye Dean…"
Sam opened the canister and let the fuel fall on his brother's body, before reaching for the salt. A sudden movement near him stopped his movement and he turned around, searching for the source of the noise.
"Who's there?"
Sam stood up, his hand reaching unconsciously to the gun he had taken earlier. He turned around, before the sound resonated again in the darkness of the night. Sam turned around, facing Dean's body and trying to see the source of the sound before a white light surrounded his brother's body. Almost immediately, his brother's wounds disappeared, his heart started to beat again. Sam's mouth dropped in astonishment before he took out a flask of holy water that he always kept near himself. It couldn't be his brother. Dean had been send to hell.
Brusquely, Dean took a mouthful of air, eyes going wide and confused, his hair damped from the fuel Sam had spill on his self a few minutes earlier.
Sam took a step forward, mouth dropping.
"Dean?"
Dean looked at his brother, confusion evident on his face.
"Dude, what the hell?"
Dean got down from the table, frowning.
"Man, what did you do? I stink like hell!"
Sam took out the flask of holy water, giving it to his brother. His eyes unblinking, remembering every action, every movements, like it was all a dream.
"Drink!"
Dean frowned, looking at the flask then at his brother.
"Dude, is that really necessary?"
Sam nodded, not trusting his voice anymore. Dean took the flask, seeing the desperation in his little brother's eyes, before taking a few mouthful of holy water and giving back to his brother.
"I'm not possessed, alright. Now, can you just explain to me what the hell happened? Dude, I smell of death and fuel! How do you want me to get laid after that?"
Sam came closer, eyes still wide and unbelieving.
"What's the last thing that you remember?"
Dean frowned again, trying to remember.
"Well, we were back from kicking some demonic son of a bitch's ass and then you told me you needed to get some water for god knows what and that's it, I think…"
Sam nodded, remembering the unpleasant memory as well.
"I did get the water and it was to clean your wounds. The demon slashed your left side and it was bleeding pretty heavily. The motel's water was kind of brown so I didn't trust it enough to prevent you from having an infection. Anyhow, when I returned back from the office, the motel's door was open and you were laying on the floor, obviously dead…"
Dean's eyes went huge, his right arm going unconsciously to his left side.
"I was… I was dead? But how the hell did I got out of hell?"
"That's exactly what I want to know," Sam said, looking unbelievably at the table Dean had been laying on. Dead.
