AN: A bit gory and description of turture

When Castiel opened his eyes again he still felt sick to the stomach. It was dark around him, but the Angel's eyes were able to penetrate the darkness. He was in some kind of basement - a room without windows and stale air. He felt something warm tickle down his belly and lowered his gaze. Blood. There was a nasty gash across his chest. He had not felt the pain before and was not sure if he felt it now. Castiel was still dizzy, his head hurt with a fierce but dull pounding and somehow this entire scenario felt... like he was watching his vessel from outside, as an uninvolved spectator, not like the protagonist - or victim? - he was.

Castiel took a deep breath, tried to dissolve the fog covering his thoughts, but instead he felt bile rise as his sluggish brain finally processed his surroundings.

The Angel was bound to a wooden cross in the way Jesus himself had been. In the dark he saw a water canister full of blood next to his feet inside a huge circle, a different kind of sophisticated Devil's Trap glowing around him. His own blood had been used to draw this pentacle. It was a protective circle like the sigils and complex runes covering not only the walls but the ceiling and door likewise. Right now, Castiel was not able to place them. On second thought, not all of them were protective. He noticed protection from Angels, from Demons, from...

The Angel's incoherent thoughts were interrupted as he spotted a single demon entering the room. He carried what looked like a scalpel and a hand scythe, his face determined. He walked directly to Castiel, showing no fear or hesitation. Something about this demon was off, the Angel thought but he could not center his thoughts much longer because the man started to carve symbols into Castiel's flesh and the pain he felt was very intense, real, no longer detached and distant. He was cutting deep, injuring not only the human vessel but the Angel as well.

Castiel opened his mouth and started to scream as he felt the searing hot pain carving and slicing, tainting his very Grace. Pain and agony, the essence of the feeling filling his entire being.

The Angel did not notice how his real voice joined his vessel's and the very ground around him began to shake. Castiel's torturer continued his work, utterly unimpressed by the havoc the delirious Angel was causing. Luckily, there were no pieces of furniture, no windows to brake and the building itself was sturdy enough to withstand the assault.

Castiel found himself back in hell. Fire burning as far as the eye could see and still everything was cloaked by an all consuming darkness. Cries and shouts filled the stinking air, searing ears and lungs likewise. The Angel could not move, his incorporeal form suddenly solid and very human was bound to a kind of rack. A creature, once a man but now hardly human appeared next to him. Although he had never seen that particular human before the name Dean Winchester came to his mind. Castiel had found the Righteous Man - or more accurate the Righteous Man had found him. As the human started to peel away the skin covering the Angel's new body, he lost the ability to think coherently as agony filled every corner of his corporeal form and pain burnt away his Grace. The Angel was stuck, became just another tortured soul in Hell.

Suddenly something changed. Castiel needed a few moments before he knew what had happened. The pain was gone.

~*~

Obviously Bobby still hadn't realized who was occupying the bed because as the small and hoarse voice started to mutter "Pater noster, qui es in caelis" the older hunter frowned and tried to look past Dean to catch a glimpse at the forth person inside the motel room.

"Who's that?"

"...sanctificetur nomen tuum."

"He's a..." Dean started

"Friend." Sam continued the sentence with conviction. His brother shot him a side glance feeling gratitude. Sam labeling Castiel as friend felt... right.

"Adveniat regnum tuum."

"Obviously a devout friend." Bobby noted still waiting for the Winchesters to spill their beans.

"Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra."

The younger hunters just nodded.

"Panem nostrum..."

"He kind of has the angels on his heels..." Dean started.

"... catidianum da nobis hodie."

"And demons too. They captured him and marked him." Sam continued trying not to wince as he pictured the carvings in his mind.

"Et dimitte nobis debita nostra..."

"Let me take a look..." Bobby said and took a few steps towards the bed until Dean stopped him.

"...sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris."

"Look, Bobby... He... he really doesn't mean any harm, ok?"

"Et ne nos inducas in tentationem..."

"Do I know him?"

"...sed libera nos a malo...."

Neither Dean nor Sam answered.

"Quia tuum est regnum et potestas et gloria in saecula. Amen."

Bobby closed the distance in two quick strides and pulled away the blanket. The older hunter inhaled sharply as he not only recognized the person lying on the bed but caught sight of the countless carvings, slightly red and still sore.