AN: First of all, I apologise to all the readers for the long delay and the short chapter. Also, thank you so much for the wonderful reviews and feedback.
What You See in the Shadows: Thanks a lot for your awesome review. I am so flattered! I'm glad you enjoyed my portrayal of the characters. And I hope this chapter meets your expectations.
Icelady: thank you for review. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Guest: thank you too, whoever you are.
Your feedbacks are a great source of encouragement, so THANK YOU!
Chapter 11
Dean blinked his eyes as his body rode out a wave of disorientation. His stomach flipped in a recognisable discomfort that he associated with angel-travel. Seeing Gabriel appear beside himself, he realised that the archangel had zapped them right in front of Bobby's house. A stab of unexpected relief hit him when he saw his beloved impala parked out front and mentally thanked Gabriel for his thoughtfulness, not that he would ever admit it, his previous heart to heart with the archangel be damned .
His attention was captured by the front door slamming open and a figure emerging from within. 'Sam…' he thought fondly, as he took in his brother's relieved expression. Bobby and Cass appeared behind Sam, their expressions predictably identical.
Dean put on a wide grin as he approached, his body swimming in relief and happiness and drowning out all the negativity that he had been floundering in previously. Feelings of safety and security and homecoming washed over him and he reveled in them. It was as if the sun was shining again after a long spell of rain. And though he knew that the dark clouds still hovered at the periphery, for now the uncloaked sun was shining brightly, driving the darkness away.
"Hey Sammy, sorry for…well, you know…just jumping and driving off…" Dean said with his patented, charming smile when he saw his brother approaching him with long, hurried strides. Acknowledging that he might have reacted a tad recklessly and worried his little brother, he felt a trickle of guilt run through him and as redemption, he decided that he would allow Sam to hug him and have a chick-flick moment just this once.
So immersed in his thoughts was he that it came as an absolute shock when Sam proceeded to knock him down with a solid punch; he didn't even think to defend himself. 'What the hell….."
For a moment, Dean could only cradle his jaw in amazement and wait for his thought-process to catch up. He felt as if the ground had been yanked from beneath his feet. The pain did not even register in his brain as it seemed to be too busy trying to figure out what had happened. 'Did Sam just punch me…?'
And then, like a dam bursting under pressure, his brother's angry voice tore through the silence and drowned everything else in its roaring midst. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING, DEAN! ARE YOU CRAZY! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED! WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOU RUN AWAY LIKE THAT! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS?"
"Um…Sammy…?" It was all Dean could think to say. 'I might have miscalculated the situation, just a little bit…' He had yet to move from his position on the cold, hard gravel of Bobby's driveway. He absently registered the highly amused faces of the other spectators. Gabriel and even Bobby were openly laughing at his expense, the shameless bastards. Even Cas was displaying a rare smile of amusement.
Having recovered his ability to think again, he was distracted from his embarrassment over his situation by his brother, who surprisingly captured him in a tight embrace. Guilt and remorse attacked him with renewed velocity as he comprehended just how much he had scared his little brother with his actions. He mentally kicked himself for his carelessness and admitted that he would have been at his wit's end himself if it was Sam who had put himself in grave danger.
"Don't you dare scare me like that again, you hear me?" Sam mumbled against his shoulder. Dean wrapped his own arms around his brother's trembling form and ran his hands over Sam's back in calming motions. "I'm sorry Sam. I won't do it again. I promise."
Guilt wrecked him again when he felt his shirt becoming damp with Sam's tears at the shoulder and he cursed himself for his stupidity again. He tightened his hold over his brother and crushed him to his chest. He muttered gentle promises in Sammy's ear and stroked his hair soothingly, uncaring of his audience in the wake of his little brother's distress.
He finally understood the absurdity of his actions. Under the influence of Alistair's nightmare, he had abandoned Sam, assuring himself that it was for his brother's own safety. But now, he realised that his leaving was not about protecting Sam at all; it was about him running away, it was about his cowardice. His fear of Alistair had overtaken his rationale. Granted that it was fear for his family's safety that had prompted him, but it was fear nonetheless. He had been afraid. So he had not been protecting his loved ones at all, he had only been running away in fear.
However, regardless of this revelation, Dean was not stupid enough to think that he was ready to face Alistair either. He was still afraid and there was no point in hiding it. In fact, he would be stupid not to be afraid. But he also knew that he was not alone. And as much as it bothered him to admit it, just on this occasion, Gabriel was right. No matter what Alistair threw at him, he still had his family to watch his back. He quickly decided to skip over the fact that he had subconsciously admitted Gabriel as family; but the archangel had helped them and Cas and proclaimed that he had their back, afterall.
And so, the world-wary hunter, for once, against all instincts, allowed himself to be lulled into the sense of safety that came from being with family, from being home. He felt himself relax for the first time since coming back from hell and welcomed the rush of just letting go.
Basking in the soft glow of happiness, Dean raised Sam from the ground, exchanged a grin with his brother and then began leading the miss-matched group back to the house. He was home.
"Anyone want some beer?" Bobby called out as he entered the house.
"Sure…"
"Yeah…"
"Hells yeah…"
"Yes, please…"
"I'm hungry. Anyone in the mood for pancakes? With lots and lots of chocolate syrup!" Gabriel chirped over the commotion.
"Gabriel…!" Sam groaned in exasperation.
"And pie!" Dean called out excitedly.
"Sure, Dean-o!"
Bobby rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. "Is food and sugar all you two idgits think about?"
"YEP!" Two voices answered in unison.
With loads of laughter, jokes, shrieks and exclamations, the house had never been more warm and homey. As the Winchester brothers followed the procession towards the kitchen, Sam paused at the doorway and turned to face his brother.
"I'm really glad you're back, Dean." Sammy said with a smile which his elder brother duly returned.
"And I'm glad to be back!"
Fire cackled with frightening ferocity, laying waste everything in its path. Heat rose in enormous waves from the unfathomable chasms of the dark. Vermilion rivers, overflowing with blood, streamed through every nook and cranny. The screams and helpless cries of the tormented pierced through the murky, smoke-filled air. Despair oozed from every corner and drowned everything in hopelessness.
Alistair settled into a jewel studded, high-backed chair and sighed in pleasure. He enjoyed the comfort that his home brought, wedged as it was in the deepest parts of hell. The gruesome decor of his mansion, done in blood-red and charred-black was soothing to his nerves. The withering heat scorched his demonic soul and offered a morbid relief and coziness. The cries of tortured souls howled in his ears and felt to him like the most exquisite musical composition, more tasteful than any symphony ever written by the masters of old.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the sulfur infused air and exhaled in contentment. Home sweet home… And yet, something was missing…. Dean…
Alistair leaned back and closed is eyes, reminiscing the day he had encountered Dean's soul for the first time. It had been a splendid soul indeed, shining pure and bright and blinding everything with its pristine beauty. He had impatiently awaited the arrival of the righteous man in hell and when the moment finally came upon him, he was not disappointed. Dean Winchester's soul was everything that was righteous and virtuous and good. And it was up to him to break the righteous man.
He remembered with amusement the day he had introduced himself to Dean. He recalled how Dean had watched him approach, his clear eyes shining with both wariness and defiance and how determination had radiated from his very being.
Alistair walked purposefully towards the gallows taking long, assured strides. He was happy today; it was a joyous occasion, indeed. He had been anticipating this day ever since Dean Winchester had sold his soul in exchange for his brother's life. And now it was time for Dean to pay his dues.
As the demon strode towards his destination, other lowly demons bowed their heads reverently. Alistair smirked in arrogance and slammed a couple of them against the wall just to hear them whimper in fear and pain but decided not to kill them. He was in a good mood, indeed.
As he arrived, he was immediately drawn towards the dazzling soul. Ah…there he was, the righteous man…The rumours had not done justice to magnificent sight in front of him. Dean Winchester was glowing, illuminating the place with his brilliance. He was hanging from above, the meathooks digging into his back and shoulders and rendering him completely immobile.
The newly arrived soul stiffened as he saw him walking up to him. Alistair knew that the boy was studying him, impatiently trying to predict his next move. He smirked.
"Well, well. We finally meet. I take the immense pleasure of welcoming you to hell, Dean Winchester. I've been waiting for you for so long."
"Who the hell are you?" Dean demanded, refusing to show the fear that Alistair could so easily sense in the soul in front of him.
"Oh, how impolite of me to forget. I haven't introduced myself yet, have I? My name is Alistair."
He saw the hunter fight an involuntary shiver. 'Trying to be brave in the face of hell…interesting.' He could already see the resemblance between the boy in front of him and his late father. 'If he is like John, we're going to have so much fun.' Alistair was determined not to make the same mistakes he had made with John Winchester. He had been careless, naively careless. But he had learned from his mistake. Dean Winchester will not escape like his father.
Alistair scrutinised the soul in front of him, assessing each and every bit of the hunter. He noticed each tremble of fear and trepidition. He felt his burning desire to be strong. 'Poor boy. He has no idea what is coming for him…' He thought gleefully. He could already imagine the different instruments he would employ, the screams that will escape the hunter's mangled soul, the begging and pleas he would elicite…..
"I admit that I am very curious about you, Dean. It was a noble act for sure, giving up your life and soul for your little brother. The question is, was it worth it?" He had to admit, he had been extremely curious about Dean's deal. He was amazed at the level of dedication and love that the boy held for his little brother that had motivated him to make the deal. 'The father sold his soul for his first-born son and then the son sold his soul for the little brother. Strange family, these Winchesters.'
"Shut up, demon. Ofcourse Sam was worth it; thought I don't expect someone like you to understand." Dean declared. He was unexpectedly intrigued. In his long lifetime, he had seen many foolish humans make the crossroads deals for far less noble reasons; money, power, beauty, fame, conquests….but not many were brave enough to do it for family. He himself considered family to be a fickle and ineffectual institution. It only seemed to be a weakness that can be used against you, an obstruction in the attainment of power. Yet this particular human appeared to cling to his own Achilles heel….how interesting.
"We'll see if you can conform to your believes, shall we? And I assure you Dean, I will make you regret condemning yourself to hell before long. Don't think you can resist me, boy, for I will completely and irrevocably destroy you. And when you break, I shall compose and construct your shattered soul into the greatest weapon that has ever been witnessed in the arsenal of hell. You will be mine to have, mine to control and mine to dominate. I will make you forget who you were and what you used to be. I will sculpt you to be my ultimate student and soldier. You will be mine, Dean Winchester, and I shall have you."
Alistair was interrupted from his reminiscing by a demon servant who curtsied hurriedly and delivered to him the latest news.
"Contact has been made with defector as per your orders, my lord. The bait has been set and we are ready to proceed on your orders."
Alistair dismissed the messenger with a flick of his wrist and smiled in anticipation. "Yes, Dean Winchester is mine. And I shall have him soon enough."
AN: Sorry for the abrupt change in the two parts of the chapter. Hope it wasn't too disorienting!