Chapter 2: When Fire Runs Cold
"Castiel. Cas, come on. We need you. Dean's in trouble." The sound of Sam's voice filled Castiel's head, stopping him from what he was doing. He flashed inside the motel room that Sam and Dean had been staying in. With a ruffle of his wings, he came to stand in the space near the windows where the mid-day sun shone through the curtains.
"You called me?"
"Yeah, Cas. Dean…Dean's been kidnapped."
Castiel's heart sunk. He felt as if a weight just fell across his chest, attempting to crush him. Dean was gone and he couldn't reach him, not even using his "angel mojo" as Dean liked to call it. Castiel cursed himself for putting those sigils on both Winchester's chests.
"Are you listening to me?" Sam said in obvious frustration and annoyance. His face had a quality Dean had dubbed as a "bitch face"
"I'm sorry. I was…distracted. Do we know what has kidnapped him?"
"Bobby and I have a theory. It's a far-fetched one, but it's the only lead we have right now."
"What happened?"
"I went out to get more supplies. Came back and he was gone. At first, I thought he went out to the bar or something but there was blood on the ground and the lamp was knocked over. I figured it might be a witch or something but then I noticed that the cream was missing." Sam pointed to the small lime green refrigerator humming next to the television.
"So you think it was a fairy that took Dean?"
"It's the only lead we have. Bobby's looking for some spells to try to find the thing and banish it."
Castiel didn't really respond. He was lost in his mind again. Sam rolled his eyes and went outside to get some air. Castiel stayed, pacing back and forth. He didn't know what to do. Dean was gone. Dean. The one he had raised from Hell. The one who had his grace still pressed into the handprint that he himself had put there. He remembered the day it happened; it was a memory that he replayed in his head over and over, trying to make sense of it all.
He had seen and felt the flames writhing back and forth but he did not feel heat. It was the exact opposite. It was cold in the depths of Perdition.
He could he hear the deafening sounds of screams and the footsteps of his brothers and sisters, running and fighting bravely so Castiel could do his assigned job. His pace quickened as he sped toward the room where he had been told he'd find the Righteous Man. He found the room fairly quickly, feeling souls guide him along to his intended target. Nothing in Heaven could have prepared him for the sight he was about to behold.
There he was, curled into a tight ball with instruments of torture held tightly in his grasp. That was not what had shocked the angel of the Lord. It was that this man, the same man who had been ripping souls apart piece by piece, had a soul that burned so bright and so pure for what he had been through. His chest tightened as he saw the man lying on the floor, broken, yet his soul could not have been more beautiful. It flicked and fluttered, churning like a golden sea. It bubbled and swirled throughout the man's body. It was truly a sight to behold.
Castiel cursed himself for being so stupid. His brothers and sisters were dying out there and he was indulging himself with looking at the Righteous Man. He kicked himself into gear. He reached down and attempted to pick the shivering man up off the floor but something in the man snapped. He began to fight Castiel, as if they were enemies. Fight he did, hard and with determination. Castiel admired the man for this. He placed a hand on the man's shoulder, hoping it would steady the Winchester. However, this did not happen as he had planned.
Suddenly, his grace began to stir at the touch between the two. His grace surged from his hand and connected with Dean's shoulder. Dean's soul began to writhe, reacting to Castiel's wayward grace. The grace and the soul connected, weaving in and out of each other. A tight feeling welled up in Castiel and he knew what had happened. He wanted to have their grace and soul come together and stay together for all of eternity but he knew that it was a foolish thought and he should cast it from his mind. Still, he lingered there for a moment and the Winchester stilled, relaxed in Castiel's touch. He gathered himself and snapped the two out of the horrid place. It was a difficult trip, travelling back to Earth. All throughout the journey, Castiel whispered comfort hymns in Enochian to the Righteous Man. This seemed to sooth the poor soul, so Castiel continued to do so until he was forced to part with the soul. Even while he re-made Dean Winchester's earthly body, he whispered comfort to him as he fixed him. He took away the scars and the pain. He fixed everything he could. Castiel made his way to Dean's shoulder and found that a handprint was there, in the shape of his own. He pressed his hand to the spot and gasped. He could feel his own grace wash through the print, pushing and pulling like waves. He tried hard to remove the grace burned into Dean Winchester's shoulder but unfortunately, Castiel's grace was extremely unwilling to leave the body of the Righteous Man.
Eventually, Castiel gave up on removing the grace from Dean, for it was being extremely stubborn. He was done with reworking the body, now it was time to redirect the soul into its newly formed body.
"I'm sorry, but this is going to be quite painful. I wish there was something I could do to ease the pain." He whispered. He did the job, trying to be quick in order to cause less pain.
The Righteous Man began to stir. Castiel had decided that it would be easier for the human if he did not remember Castiel removing him from Hell. Though it pained him, he knew that what he was doing was for Dean's benefit. That made it a little easier to wipe Dean's mind clean of Castiel and of his rescuing.
That was the day Castiel knew that for this man, he would do anything for. He knew that his stomach twisted in knots when Dean was near. He knew that he loved the human with all his heart. He would tear someone to pieces for hurting Dean. He also knew that he could never act on these feelings. Dean liked women. But as much as it pained the angel to think this, he knew that his love could never be returned.
The snap of the door opening and closing brought Castiel back from his recollection. Sam walked through the door, addressing the angel. "Bobby found something. It's a fairy banishment spell. Dunno how he managed to find this crap, but it was a lucky find. Now all we have to do is find Dean."
The angel nodded his head in agreement and went back to his pacing and fidgeting. Sam threw himself on the bed, exhausted. Castiel didn't notice. He was too busy worrying and being an anxious mother hen.
Half way through the night, Castiel felt something. It was rooted very deep in his grace, but he could feel Dean Winchester slip into a dreamy sleep. This was Castiel's time to strike. If he could get into Dean's dreams, he would be able to find his location. He reached in his mind, desperate to connect with Dean. He knew the location of where the elder Winchester was being held captive. "I know where Dean is," he said, his gravelly voice cutting through the steely silence of the night. He was granted a sleepy "Hmm?" from Sam but before he could register what was going on, Castiel flashed out with a flutter of wings.
Castiel arrived at the large, very dirty warehouse. He could feel his own grace coming from inside. He put on a face of determination and stepped through the threshold. A fairy was standing over Dean. He did not notice Castiel but he soon would. He would pay dearly for taking Dean from him. Castiel knocked the being away from the bleeding, unconscious Dean Winchester tied to a pole. The fairy had an angry look in his eye. He charged the angel with full force. Castiel began to speak the banishment spell Sam had told him. Just as the being was about to crash into the angel's body, he uttered the last words of the spell and the fairy vanished.
The angel turned his attention toward Dean Winchester who was sprawled out on the floor, his eyelids barely open. He looked up at Castiel and his heart melted. He was so scared that he would never see the man again. He crouched down and gently untied the ropes that bound the man.
"Hello Dean." He said. He placed his fingers gently on the man forehead, careful not to fester anymore of the already angry looking wounds. He flashed the man out of the warehouse and back into the motel room.
Dean Winchester was safe.
AN: Hello lovelies! Sorry the update took a while. It was a difficult last couple of weeks, what with tests and projects and all that jazz. It took a little while to get my ass into gear. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it. See you in chapter 3.