Chapter Sixteen

'What do ye mean you can't get them out?' Patrick asked, almost yelled.

'I mean that I can't cross the wards so I can't get inside' Gabriel answered him, his voice sounded calm, didn't betray any emotion.

"Horseshit' Patrick answered and Gabriel turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing.

'What?'

'I know enough about archangels, Ma told me all I need to know. Even one of ye would be able to break this world apart and now yer telling me ye are stopped by a few wards? That Sir "There are only five beings in creation who wield a greater power I" can't tear down a few walls? That's horseshit!'

'You should know that magic does not work that way' Gabriel answered.

'No, don't ye dare tell me that ye wouldn't be able to do it!' Patrick snapped at him. 'That some wards can keep ye out of a room when ye could destroy the whole land in a blink! Why won't ye do it? Why don't ye get them out of there?'

'I can't do it within my current limits' the archangel told him. Patrick looked at him for a long moment before understanding lighted up his face then it quickly morphed into anger.

'So ye could do it, but ye won't. Ye don't want Heaven to see ye... ye would have to use only an edge of yer true power... but ye won't!

'The wards are strong, it would have to be more than an edge, my brothers would most likely know where I am immediately.'

'So ye just gonna leave them there?' Patrick asked. 'Because there's a risk? Ye can't just... please dammit! We've done nothing but helped you, help us now!' Gabriel looked down at the table, putting his hands down. 'Gabriel... please... they're my only family... ye can't let them rot in the hands of those gods! Please!'

'If there is a way in, I will find it' Gabriel answered.

'Ye mean anything besides using your true power' Patrick said bitterly.

'I... can't do that' the angel answered quietly.

'Oh fuck you!' the young witch spat. There was a heavy silence between them, but Gabriel didn't react at the harsh words. 'Then just take me up there, I'll go in myself.'

'Like you stand a chance when Creide and Dean couldn't hold their own' the angel told him. 'You would only be captured or killed yourself and I might need your help when I can come up with something.'

'Ye expect me to do nothing?' the young man shouted.

'I expect you to keep your head clear and think, being angry with me won't get your Mother and Dean back.'

Patrick glared at him for long moments, crossing his arms over his chest. Then he took a deep breath closing his eyes, his jaw clenched in anger but he stepped back to the table.

'Ye better find a way in quickly' he said sternly.

x~x~x

Creide didn't move from the cold floor for a very long time. Her breathing didn't even out completely and the violent shaking in her body only subdued to a light tremble that Dean could still see from the other side of the cell. He tugged at his chains more than once not caring about the sharp pain it caused, but he couldn't break free no matter how much he wanted to help the witch to get up. He was forced to watch helplessly as she struggled up to all fours after a while and crawled closer to the wall where she could find leverage to get into a sitting position.

'Creide? Talk to me... how are you feeling?' he knew it was a dumb question because it was obvious that the witch didn't feel well at all, but he had to know if it was as bad as it looked.

'Like there's a reaper perching on my shoulder' she answered, then she clutched at her chest barely silencing a pained groan and Dean watched in dread as her hair turned even whiter and even deeper wrinkles appeared on her pale face.

'Creide!' he called out, the metal shackles bit into his wrist again as he reflexively tried to move closer even if he knew he couldn't.

'Stop hurting yourself Deandalon, stay still' Creide told him.

'Don't care about me, what's happening to you?' he asked.

'Morrígan was telling the truth' Creide said quietly. 'She knows way too well how old witches work... how we link our bodies to our immortal souls making it unchanging and undying... how we use that power... the second I saw her on the side of Leomas I knew I lost my fight...'

'What did she do to you?' Dean asked, fearing the answer but talking anyway. Creide stayed silent for long moments breathing hardly as her back leaned to the cold stones of the wall. She looked even older now.

'She cut the strings' she said then, her voice only above a whisper. Dean stayed silent for a moment thinking over the words, but then he had to ask.

'What do you mean?'

'It means that I need to use all my power to keep my soul from moving on.'

'She's forcing your soul out of you?' Dean asked. Horrified by the very thought and suddenly even more afraid for Creide, but the witch shook her head.

'No, my soul was meant to go... a long time ago, she just cut the strings that were keeping it here...'

'But you can... heal the damage, right? You made those strings yourself!' Dean hurried to ask, because the other option was not something he wanted to think about. To his relief Creide nodded.

'Just... right now it takes everything to keep it here...' she said in a strained voice. 'And it will take a lot of time... and Morrígan won't give me enough of that.'

'We'll get out of here, just hold on' Dean told her. When Gabriel told him his soul was his most precious gift he didn't believe it. Now even if it wasn't about his own he felt it was the most valuable thing he could think of as he watched how Creide struggled to keep it... to stay alive.

'Lot of things on Earth don't have souls' he said. 'Would it really harm you if you let it go?' he questioned, thoughts rushing in his mind to look for what to do next.

'I don't know if humans can live without their souls or not... I surely can't.'

'Are you sure?'

'I am old Deandalon... very old... it's unnatural, the power of my soul keeps my body ageless and immortal if it's gone...' she didn't continue but Dean understood what she meant to say loud and clearly. And the way Creide looked like she aged decades in a few days made suddenly sense to him as well.

'Then don't you dare let go of that thing' he told her and that made a small smile appear on Creide's old and pained face.

They stayed silent for a very long time, Dean thinking furiously of a way out, but he was chained and Creide had to focus her power on staying alive. His mind wandered to Gabriel immediately and he was almost surprised by the sudden clench of worry he felt in his chest. Gabriel vanished in the piercing white light probably done by the symbol or spell he saw next to Leomas. He had no idea what that might've done to the angel, whether he was fine or not.

Leomas obviously knew about Gabriel, Dean was sure that the angel's façade was perfect, that there was no possible way that the gods saw through his disguise and recognized his angelic self under skin and flesh, but somehow Leomas knew... it was worrying. The only thing he could think about was that if Gabriel was fine he would come for him... surely he would. The fact that even after so much time passed they were still trapped here filled him with unease, not sure he wanted to think about any other reason the angel would stay away besides being injured or effected by the spell Leomas used.

However it was not like Dean to wait to be rescued, he couldn't break his shackles, but the metal got slippery from his blood, maybe he could grab his own hand and dislocate some bones, he could maybe pull them free then. It would hurt, would tear a lot of skin down and he wouldn't be able to use his hands for a while, but he could surely heal it afterwards. The bones in his hand were thin enough and maybe he wouldn't even need to break any of them to do this, the mere thought of that possibility filled him with an unpleasant feeling, but he didn't have any other plan. Even if he didn't know whether this was going to work at all.

He took a deep breath to brace himself, but the sound of the lock turning in the door made him stop. He was holding his breath and hoped it wouldn't be Morrígan stepping through the door again.

It was Pillan and Dean felt as his blood ran cold at the sight of the thunder god, and he was alone too. Morrígan might've said that she needed Dean alive for whatever reason, but she was not there, no one was there to stop the deity. Pillan shut the door behind him gently, it clicked to place almost soundlessly and that small gesture made Dean's eyes narrow. The god payed attention to be silent.

'What do you want?' he growled.

'Keep your voice down you imbecile' Pillan snapped at him, but he was whispering through his teeth. He looked exactly like Dean last saw him, black slacks, heavy boots and his black skin was uncovered from the waist up nothing but his heavy golden jewels were around his neck, wide bracelets on his upper-arms, thick rings pierced through his ears, and one wide golden belt around his waist. He was still intimidatingly tall, the tallest god Dean has ever seen - including Kovas and Gygaie – he had at least nine or ten inches on Dean and he was not remotely small, Gabriel would look like a wood elf next to the thunder god.

'Why should I?' he asked. 'So you can kill me without Morrígan noticing it?'

'I'm here to get you out of here you idiotic little earthworm' the god hissed through his teeth. That managed to render Dean speechless for a moment.

'You wanted to kill me, and now you're telling me you want to help? Really?' he asked.

'Hush, Deandalon' Creide spoke up. 'There is a way out?' she asked looking up at the god.

'Not for me' the god answered. 'Leomas sensed my hesitance and Morrígan bound me' he answered. 'You are also bound by her' he said a moment later.

'Oh I know there is no escaping her claws for me' Creide answered matter of factly.

'What is going on?' Dean asked in confusion.

'I am a prisoner, like you are' Pillan answered in his deep thundering voice. 'I cannot leave the fort, but you are not bound by Morrígan's magic so I will take you out and you will go and tell my old friend the mighty Taranis that Leomas slaughtered all the gods of Eryri.'

'Everyone?' Dean asked, because Creide said some of them left, but Pillan nodded.

'Everyone but me' he said. 'I don't think I will live another full moon either. Leaving the fate of our revenge in the hands of someone like you leaves a foul taste in my mouth, but only you can get out so I will have to trust you to bring my massage to the other gods.'

'Fine, then get me out of these chains' Dean told him. Pillan walked over to him in two long steps without another word and reached for the shackles, but his hands stopped mid-air.

'Oh, curse you Morrígan' he murmured and dropped his hands.

'What?' Dean asked turning his head up to look at the god.

'I did not think she would use such a powerful spell to chain you, you are but a half-bread yet this spell could even hold me in place' he growled in frustration as he stepped back.

'So you can't get me out?' he asked.

'No' the god answered, his brows furrowed and deep in thought.

'Are you sure you can take Deandalon out?' asked Creide. Pillan turned towards her.

'Yes, I am certain' the thunder god answered. Creide looked at him then she shifted her dark eyes on Dean, a moment later she reached out to hold onto a bigger stone on the wall and started push herself up to her feet.

'Creide! Save your strength' Dean told her.

'Nothing to save for' she answered as she stood up and started walking across the room with unsteady but determined steps.

'No, what do you mean? Creide?' she only stopped when she reached the wall and could lean to it right next to Dean.

'I break your chains' she said.

'You said you can't' Dean replied.

'Not completely true' she answered. 'Just hoped there would be another way not involving me doing this.'

'Wait-wait! You have to focus on your soul, to keep it here, you have enough power to do both now? Are you rested enough?'

'Not at all Deandalon' she said and Dean looked at her in confusion before the answer hit him with a force of a comet.

'Then no!' he said fiercely.

'We either all rot here till our dying day or ye get out, get some help and and make these two choke on their own blood when you return!' she said in absolute conviction.

'We can wait! G... Loki will get us out of here!'

'Someone with his power would've done it already if he could have or wanted to' the witch told him.

'No, Creide...'

'Listen to me Deandalon' she spoke quietly. 'I've been here on this Earth... for many centuries, it was a long road already.'

'Patrick is waiting for you' the demigod said.

'There is a door in my house... Loki will see it if he looks for it, what is behind that door... Patrick must have it, ye understand me? No matter what he has to have it, make sure it happens.'

'Creide... this is insane, don't...'

'I did much wrong but ye never asked about my past, I was always grateful for that... watch out for my boy if ye can.'

'No!' Dean protested, shouted. Creide raised her hands and put both of them on the iron shackles bounding Dean's wrists. The demigod wanted to squirm away, rip the chains out of her small white hands, but couldn't. Creide had her black eyes closed tightly and Dean felt a warmth seeping into the metal even if he didn't pay attention to anything at all he just kept telling Creide over and over again to stop.

The shackles snapped open with a crack the chains falling away freeing Dean's hands in time to catch Creide as her body crumbled to the floor like a rag doll.

'Creide!' Dean called, but she didn't answer. Her hair was turning even more grey and white, her skin was loosing color. She was not breathing, not moving, was just a lifeless weight. The wrinkles on her skin deepened further, her skin got thinner, stretching over bones, her light body was starting to loose all weight until the skin looked like dry paper, darkening, crumbling, breaking apart, dark yellow bones showing as all flesh dried and disappeared until she simply shattered in Dean's arms, nothing remaining but a pile of dust and some scattered bones...

Dean's breath was coming in short breaths and his eyes were burning, tears threatening to fall. She was gone, so simply, so quickly... almost no trace left behind. He shut his eyes tightly, swallowing back the pain clawing his chest and he would've stayed there kneeling on the ground for a very long time but a heavy hand landing on his shoulder snapped his attention back to reality.

'We must go, or you won't ever get out of here' Pillan said, but Dean looked back at the pile of dust, even the bones were gone now... he couldn't just leave like this. Leave her remains in a dirty dungeon, like some dreck on the floor. 'If we don't leave now your friend died for nothing Deandalon, come... now' Pillan urged and grabbed his shoulder to drag him to his feet and the demigod could do nothing but let himself be pulled out of the cell. The heavy door clicking closed behind them with a small cold sound.

TBC