THANKS TO ALL MY FAITHFUL REVIEWERS, THIS ONE IS FOR YOU GUYS, and EARLY TOO!
Also thank you to those who added this as a favourite story and those who added me as a favourite author. Wow, guys, thanks…
And last but not least to my beta, OTS, thank you. I hope find it a bit clearer.
Chapter 3: The Taste of Trust.
Dean stood in tense anticipation. The trilling noise he heard could only bring pain and anger. But he had to do this. Castiel depended on him.
"Pamela, it's me Dean Winchester." Dean rubbed a hand over his mouth. He knew well her history with the angel in question, and was fully expecting her reaction. But apparently she did not read minds over the telephone.
"Yah, I know it's a little too early for phone sex. But listen, this is important. I've got a problem... Yah, me and Sam." Dean bit his lip to keep a grin from his face. "Not that kind of problem."
Dean and Sam had stayed in their quaint hotel room after swapping stories with Ruby. Apparently she collected about the same level of information that the brothers had. Lilith was in the area. Something big went down a week ago. And the demonic grapevine had gotten more closed lipped than a chicken. Ruby was sitting at the table eating fries again, examining Sam's map, and transferring the relevant bits she had discovered to it. Sam was reclined on his bed, lightly dozing listening to Dean's conversation. Dean sat in his bed, phone to his ear.
He swallowed. "Um, we have a bigger favour to ask of you. One that you are not particularly going to like." Dean paused and took a big breath. Apparently, Pam broke in impatiently. "Okay, apparently you're one of those people who like the band aid ripped off quickly. You know how we told you about the seals. End of the world apocalypse, eternal damnation for everyone yadda, yadda. The seal we called you about earlier, when we needed to check on all the seers making sure a demon had not run off with one of them, well your favourite angel Castiel might know where those demons are. And we can't find him."
Sam could here Pam's voice over the small cell phone. He idly pried open an eye to stare at Dean as he ripped it away from his ear. The tiny incredulous voice sounded through the connection; "I know you're screwing with me, 'cause if you're asking what I think you're asking..." She stopped for a minute. "That bastard stole my eyes! And you want me to try and contact him again?"
"Yes." Dean's solemn answer hung in the air. "He's missing and is probably in trouble. His buddy doesn't give a damn. We're supposed to fix it."
"If his 'buddy doesn't give a damn,' why do you?" Pam asked, just as loud. "Why do 'we' have to fix it?"
"End of the world. Apocalypse." Ruby chimed in, loud enough to carry through the phone line.
"Shut up, hell-bitch." Dean snapped. "Pam, please, we'll make sure you don't get burned again. I promise. It's just that, the more I think about it... Castiel's been trying to contact me through my dreams. He's done it before, but something is muddling them up. And something that can screw with angel power, well that can't be good for the rest of us."
Dean waited and let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, I understand. Talk to you later." He closed the phone. "Damnit. She's freaked. She said she's thinking about it."
"Well that sounds very promising. And remind me, why are we sticking our necks out for an angel again? Why can't he just fly out of there?" Ruby stood up and started pacing.
"Cause if he was going to, Castiel would have already!" Dean shouted. His face turned crimson. "I mean if we don't have our allies' backs, the only thing between this world and Hell is going to be the three of us. You with your knife, me with a shotgun, and Sam with his damn freaky mojo powers. What's Lucifer going to do when he sees us?"
Ruby sullenly waved a hand in 'go on' gesture. She at least looked a bit chastised.
The elder Winchester took a step back. "I don't know, didn't really think that part through. Probably torturing and kill us." Dean nodded definitively, "yep, torture and kill us."
"Good Dean." Sam sighed. "But I think if we aren't going to come up with a brilliant battle plan, we should just get some rest."
Dean stared at him and nodded. "Demon bitch has to go to her own room. I don't want her in here when we're sleeping." Ruby huffed and looked at Sam.
"It's not a huge problem for me, Dean." Sam stated.
"Well I wasn't the one boinking her all summer, okay? And besides, I paid for miss black eyes to have her own room. What's the little Chinese guy going to think when she doesn't use her towels?" Dean nodded to prove that he had a valid point.
"Okay, I'll go. It's not like I haven't saved both of your lives or anything." She strode towards the door, map bundled in her arms.
Sam called after, "We'll see you in the morning..."
Dean cut Sam off. "No earlier than ten. Us hunters need our beauty sleep."
"Is that what's wrong?" Ruby shut the door behind her.
"Out!"
Dean lay in his bed, relaxed and staring at the ceiling. His green eyes blinked slowly, staring blankly at the beige stipling over his head. He could still taste the Jack Daniels in his mouth. The fan in the room rotated slowly sending dust off blades filtering down through the air. It sprinkled through the air slowly, drifting, floated. He inhaled softly, trying not to breathe more in than was possible. The air tasted dry. He shivered and awaited who he knew would come. The dust swirled suddenly, spirally around a cylindrical shape.
Castiel did not disappoint, and his form appeared in a blink at Dean's bedside. His hair was neatly pushed back, his face somber and passive, his electric blue eyes glowing in the dark. His tie was tight, though, around his neck. Castiel's khaki coloured coat settled stiffly on the forms shoulders. Dean beheld it fearfully, for some reason its presence disturbed him.
"Castiel, you're looking very good tonight, who's the date?" Dean taunted the angel's appearance because he felt he had to. A compulsion pulled at him, making him talk. For Castiel's part, Dean might have mistaken him for a statue. The angel stood there unblinking, expressionless, and empty. Dean sat up and waved a hand in front of Castiel's face. The form of the angel did not appear to notice. Dean's eyes narrowed, not sure if he should be angry for being snubbed, or worried about the strangely hollow person before him.
"Uriel says he doesn't know where you are. Or more importantly, where the demons are." Nothing showed on Castiel's perfect un-smudged face. It was like he thought Dean was trying to interrogate him. Castiel's pokerface could have earned him millions in Vegas. "You think that maybe your bosses would like to know where the Seal is? You're going to loose the angel of the year award for sure if you keep up with this attendance record." Dean felt as though he was talking to a short brick wall. He could almost feel his voice echoing back to him. "What the Hell, Sam and I would like to know what is going on." Dean was losing his temper.
"You're the one who came to me. You're the one who dragged me out of Hell so I could work for your God. You are my appointed angel. I am getting tired of working with that pompous hammer you drag along for fire power." Not a trace of emotion flickered through the angel's visage during Dean's tirade.
Dean's expression creased. Something occurred to him. The corner of his lips turned up. "Purple flaming monkey poo. White elephant dishwasher. Uriel is the prettiest angel I've ever seen wearing a toga diaper. Prettier than you." Absolutely nothing. This is the weirdest dream that I've ever had. I mean there isn't a naked chick running around anywhere. In fact, God, all there is Castiel and Sam. Dean thought and shuddered in spite of himself. It was a weird thought, if you can think in a dream.
Castiel's head snapped to the side. One hand came to his throat, and gripped the tie there tightly. "Dean Winchester. What are you doing here?"
The room changed. An outdoors scene interposed on the small hotel room. The colours phased and shifted to place in the wilderness. Dean was suddenly crouched in a sand ditch beside a dirt road, next to the angel. Harsh sunlight temporarily blinded Dean. He blinked to readjust, and suddenly Castiel was walking away from him. Dean stared at the figure's back. Castiel's trench coat collar was pulled up straight, shielding his neck from the sun. The wind whipped at Castiel, but Dean could not feel its breeze. The angel was crouching as he waded through the blowing sand. His foot falls made no noise; his shoes left no tracks in the sand. "Where are you going?" Castiel did not respond. Dean watched feeling no need to move, and could not have moved. Castiel approached a small group of people. Twelve people with eyes of white and black stopped when a small towheaded girl raised her hand.
"Here, I think." The demons spread widely and looked to the girl with alert concentration. She looked to the scenery. The mountains could be seen in the distance. The flat desert was unmarred except for the rocky boulder from which Castiel spied on them. Sun light illuminated the spot where Castiel stood; clouds overcast the rest of the area. Dean watched the highlighted figure line up against the rock, remaining hidden from the demon's eyes.
Castiel leaned in closely, and whispered something that Dean should not have been able to hear. "There, they have been walking four days for that spot." The angel's head cocked in confusion and continued with his self monologue. Perhaps he was communicating with God. "There is no nexus of energy there, nothing that would aid Lilith in opening a seal. There is such a void of energy, it could only hamper power at that spot." He looked up and cocked his head. "I wonder, wonder if you are even receiving this..." His calm voice trailed off.
Dean could almost taste the confusion radiating off the angel as he watch the group spread into a large circle. Lilith was at its center. She bowed her head and was muttering indistinctly at the ground. Suddenly her eyes went white, and she smiled a surprised smile like that of little girl getting a puppy for her birthday.
Dean could only watch as Lilith disappeared, then reformed beside the angel. "Hi, don't you know it's impolite to spy on people? If you wanted to join in, you should have asked." Castiel turned stiffly away from Dean and laid a hand on the little girl's head. "Oh silly, you should know better than that." She grabbed his hand and started to chant. The angel's eyes went as wide as they could, and his breath convulsed in his throat. Castiel leaped backwards, straight into the arms of a slim young demon, with black eyes. Castiel grabbed her arms that encircled his waist, and threw her forward blocking him from an onrush of demons. He twisted in her grasp of his wrists so that he was face to face her with her. Castiel took a glancing punch to the jaw. The demon's defenses were open, so he briefly laid a hand on her head, and a bright light emitted from her eyes and mouth. A young woman fell to the desert floor crying.
Dean felt pressure flowing down on him. He could barely blink eyes, let alone get up and fight in the dream. If it was a dream. Dean was not so sure. Why would he dream about this?
Castiel smashed his right fist in a large burly man with white eyes, and quickly sidestepped a black-eyed teenager's dive at him. He spun stepping over the teenager's falling body, and pressed a hand to the back of the kid's head. His coat flared out behind him, covering what Dean was sure would have been a bright white light. Castiel took a hard blow to the ribs, sending him tripping sideways. His left hand hit the ground. Tucking into a roll, he pressed his shoulder into the ground to come up facing the remaining eleven damned. He sat in a crouch, and pulled his long coat off his shoulders, laying it neatly on the ground, along with a black suit jacket.
"Cristo" he muttered. And eleven bodies simultaneously jumped to glare at the angel. Dean surmised it was some sort of distraction tactic because angels did not swear. Castiel gracefully stood, straightened his legs so he could look down on Lilith.
"I am going to ask you to leave these shells. It is the only warning I will give you." Castiel said with a dangerous calm voice with a hint of anger adding more roughness to his breath. His eyes glittered chillingly. Dean only wished that he could help Castiel back up his implied threat.
The peals of the little girl's laughter outlasted the general guffaw of the group. "Oh, I think you are lost. See, we know what you would have had to do to remain under our senses so long. We know you can't just leave." She nodded perfunctory and then beamed up at him, a look that had no place on a demon. "But when we all got here, and I realized what an opportunity this was…I mean, what is the phrase? Two birds with one stone. I get an angel and..." She smiled impishly. "And you can put together the rest." She reached behind herself and pulled a black ring out of the folds of her dress. Castiel stared at it in blank wonderment as ten hell spawn rushed him.
"How did you get that?" He asked serenely as he dodged the first two demons to attack him. Then he caught a fist of the third, and looked into the soul of the body the demon was riding, asking forgiveness. He then bent the arm backwards, snapping it like a dry twig. The demon howled, stepping back, blocking the part of the onrush.
Dean winced at the noise. It reminded him too much of time spent in hell.
The break did not last for long. White-eyed demons swarmed up close to the angel, pressing in on him, and started batting Castiel's vessel around like a hot potato. Demon strength powered fists, elbows, and knees flew at the angel. He recoiled from harsh hits to his torso, remaining on his feet only from the equal violence coming from all sides. The angel blocked what blows he could, broke a few more of his aggressors' bones, but Dean could see the singular angel was outmatched for his numerous opponents. Dean could feel his guts twisting as Castiel was sagging, his guard dropping, but he was ejected from the circle.
The body flew through the air to land at Lilith's feet. He landed face down, his head almost on her white runners. He pushed himself up on his forearms, and blood dripped down his scalp. A tear of blood dripped down his face to his lips. The small girl broke the solid collar in two and clasped it around the angel's neck. "There, look at the pretty one I picked out. Now all the demons know you belong to me. Not that I won't let them play with you. It's important to share." Castiel's eyes flickered to her face. The angel's eyes squinted, shadowing the blue orbs. He stood up and laid a palm on her small head. Clouds covered the sun shining on the angel.
"Omnis protest-" That was as far as Dean heard the angel get before he gagged on the blood that came rushing out of his mouth in thick viscous swells. His irises had a thick white rim all the way around as the angel threw back his head in desperation to get a breath. Castiel choked and brought a dirty hand up to wipe it from his face. Dean could almost tasted his own life's blood, sweat, and dirt staining his lips as Castiel frantically tried to clean it away. It was the taste of death. Both hands went to the collar around his neck as he fell to his knees. Dean straightened and took a single step to rush the horde surrounding his ally.
And was then he was back in bed, his body wrapped up in scratchy over-bleached sheets. Dean looked quickly for the angel to appear with him. Castiel stilled kneeled at Dean's bedside, his face bloody, his breath laboured, his hand contorted around the perfectly smooth collar around his neck. His words to Dean were barely choked out. "Dean, get some rest. We'll need it."
Dean shot awake gripping the cotton sheet in his hand. Sam's hand hovered above his shoulder. "I was deciding if I was going to wake you or not. You looked kind of strange, Dean."
"Thanks." Sarcasm dripped of the words, only mitigated by an edge of worried panic.
Sam rolled his eyes. "You were really still, but you were moaning like I've never heard before." Sam looked with open concern at his brother. "Was it, uh. Was it Hell?"
Dean looked sardonically up at his brother. "You could say that. I remember a little. And it is definite. Lilith managed to get her claws into Castiel. And it's not pretty."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "What, really? That's not good."
Dean stiffened. "We need to haul ass and find them." He catapulted out of bed and started dressing.
"Dean, slow down. Do you even know where they are?" Sam held up a hand to block his brother's way. Dean blinked in comprehension. And swore.
"Um, I think I forgot that part." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "God dammit!"
A knocking sound on their door announced Ruby's voice. "If you're up, I have an idea."
Dean shared a resigned look with Sam. "Couldn't hurt. I mean we have a whole lot of nothing."
Castiel sucked in a breath after Lilith's dainty hand slapped him awake. "What were you doing just now?" He hung from ropes tied to rotting rafters. His wrists were chafed painfully and his arms stretched above his bowed head. His hair was stuck flat to his head with sweat and blood. Castiel opened his right eye, as his left was sealed shut from dry blood that must have pooled there as he rested. His upper body, covered only in the bloody white dress shirt missing most of its buttons, was curled up to ease the pull against broken ribs and the sharp ache of internal injuries. His legs, not bearing any weight were folded underneath him in a stiff bend. "You can't call for help. Who were you talking to?" The little girl's voice piqued in interest.
Castiel remained quiet. If Lilith really wanted an answer, then she would use the collar to force one from him. Not that it worked, yet. His will was not broken. His grace persisted despite being bound and muted. But Castiel knew of the item borne of Hell fire that wrapped around his neck, knew it was designed to break anyone's will, even the devil himself. But Castiel's faith lasted, for now, and still protected him, for a time.
Castiel looked past the small girl and studied his surroundings. He lifted his head to look at the ropes that had been suspending him from the roof for the past week. He was stationed just off center of a wide clearing in a decrepit warehouse. The clearing itself was uninteresting. A single demonic sign was etched into the dirt floor; spotlights run by a gas generator outside highlighted the area. Crates were strewn haphazardly around the room, a label bearing the previous company name on some. Light filtered in from holes in the ceiling made from weather and animals. He stared into the thin rays, hoping that this last message had gotten through to Dean.
Castiel had been trying to walk in Dean's dreams as he had done before, the nature of his link to the eldest Winchester, a bond formed in hell, was a loophole Castiel mistakenly discovered. He had locked himself in his mind and was reaching for contact with his Father and the other angels, but the only thread he could find had been to Dean. The flimsy and weak thread he had followed, trying to alert others of his predicament but everything was working against him. All of his mental strength he had to bring to bear against Lilith. And what diminutive strength he had left, and his many injuries muddled his forays into Dean's well fortified mind.
Pain was something he had experienced on an ethereal level before. Being an angel, especially a warrior for God, did not exempt one from unpleasant conditions. It was his extreme tolerance and ability to persist despite pressure that earned him a job that would have sent lesser angels to utter despair. Pulling Dean out of Hell by the shoulder had been a job Castiel was personally selected for by his repute of being unshakable. No, his mortal injuries were noticed, the stinging, grating, aching, pulling, tearing, burning, throbbing pains were all present, but he dissociated from what he could not affect. To focus on the solution, not the problem.
"Oh tell me. You know how much I dislike secrets. Unless they are wonderful surprises for me! Like I never knew that angels could do this." She scrunched up her small freckled face and Castiel's breath was stolen away.
When the other demons tortured him, he knew when to expect the blows. Castiel would watch the demons. He made it his business to know their habits. How they would walk or tense up before they launched a strike. Castiel knew how hard the blows were. And how much it would hurt him. How long the initial sharp pain would last. The physical blows were shocking, but even his bound power provided some fortitude and healing to his mortal vessel.
But Castiel could feel that strength ebbing, nothing he used was replenished by his grace and could not be, as long as the collar sat around his neck – an ever present reminder of his fate. Castiel discovered quickly not to heal every blow, only those that would kill his vessel, for his own power could not last much longer. Only a few broken bones – his cheek and his left leg, deep bruises, and a troublesome head injury remained. The rest were flesh wounds that he could deal with in time, providing a miracle. If there was no miracle, it would not matter for much longer. Lilith was growing impatient. He needed to reserve his power for chances to contact the one he was linked to. The one he had touched in perdition, the only one the collar could allow him to contact. But he always felt so confused, dizzy, weak, and so unlike himself. He was not sure that any part of his message was reaching Dean at all.
The pain Lilith gave him was not physical, but spiritual, mental blows at the shield that protected his inner thoughts, to guard his psyche and knowledge from the mind reading demons. The pain was random, intermittent, and something that no mortal ever faced, that no mortal could understand. Unless they had been in Hell. Only through the thrice damned collar could Lilith do such injury to angel she did not have in Hell.
Castiel realized that he would have still been screaming, had he the breath. His eye had slipped closed again. It kept doing that. He could not summon the resilience to stay awake for very long. Except when the demons were interrogating him. Then he pulled out the most serene facade he could muster and bore it with as much indifference as he could. Castiel suspected it only prolonged the torture. But it gave him a certain satisfaction to watch the self assured demons exhaust themselves with no reward. Then he would offer a biting prayer for their strength.
He felt the little girl step back as Lilith dropped the bombardment of his mind. "Who were you trying to contact? Or I'll make you cry again." Castiel did not let his indifferent facade drop but he inwardly balked at her words. When did he cry? He could not remember, but he knew it to be true. "You were begging God to come find you. But He didn't. So I kept you company instead." His eye closed again. Strange swirling feelings made him feel as though the room rotated around him. His vessel's stomach rose up to the back of his throat. His head pounded suddenly; he could barely hear her last words. "Did you like that time we had together? I sure did."
Castiel opened his treacherous eye again, and glared balefully into the little girl's smug face. She took a hesitant step back. And then her temper rose, knowing she'd been cowed. Two demons lined up around him and began a systematic circuit of abuse as Lilith reopened her connection to batter his soul.
He felt it all distinctly for less than a minute. The demons physical attack tearing at his strength; Lilith's mental attack ripping at his soul. Then a blow caught him behind the ear. All senses faded, Castiel's mind faded, until it was just him and Lilith. She threw power at him, enraged, aggressive attacks, until all that was left of his mind was what he hid behind his mental shields slowly unraveling at the edges. Then even Lilith faded from his mind too. The damage she was wreaking no longer registered in the sensory overload.
With that, Castiel dove into true unconsciousness.
So that's it for three. And I might, add two days earlier than I said it would be updated. Doesn't that and all of the Castiel goodness deserve a review? Please? Pretty Please?
Reviews do make my update faster. There is a very direct correlation.