Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Fantasia. I technically don't own Gabriel either, but whatever.
Thanks to jenny and JuliaAurelia for the reviews! jenny: I've never seen Constantine, but I'm happy you think it's different, I was hoping it would be.
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Recap: Sam and Dean are visited by an angel named Gabriel who sends them to Russia in search for Castiel, who has gone missing.
Dean was silent for a few seconds, taking in Gabriel's reasoning. Isn't it obvious? She had said. It hadn't been. Dean had never thought of it that way; it made him slightly sick, especially since Castiel himself had referred to other angels as brothers and sisters. For not the first time, Dean wished he knew the exact moment that things changed between him and Sam. But that didn't matter anymore, Dean told himself firmly, the only thing that mattered now was finding Castiel and rebuilding the bond that he and his brother had once shared.
Upon realizing that Gabriel had neglected to point them in the way of the nearest town, Sam and Dean made an educated guess on which way to go- Rock, Paper, Scissors; Dean go north, Sam go south. Packing themselves into the Impala once again, the boys headed south, hoping to see something more than trees.
They weren't disappointed, about an hour down the road; they reached a small town.
"Ko-pahn-ska-yaa" said Dean, "Wow, Russia has way more interesting names for things that we do!" Sam just rolled his eyes. They drove through, searching for a motel. As they searched, a thought occurred to Dean;
"Sammy, we've got American money. And I don't speak Russian." Sam resisted the urge to smack his brother on the head.
"They speak English, you moron."
For a small town, finding a motel that looked affordable was surprisingly difficult. But after possibly an hour and a half of searching, they found one. Sam groaned inwardly at the name; he hoped Dean was too tired to try and pronounce it.
"Kraaaas-no-dor-skee-yi kraaay." He wasn't.
"Stay here." said Sam, getting out of the car.
"Why?" asked Dean indignantly.
"Because I have to figure out what to do about our money problem and if you try and 'speak Russian' to them, it might not go over well." Dean raised an eyebrow,
"They speak English, you moron." He replied with a cocky smirk. Sam just gave him The Look before heading inside. Sam had his back turned, so Dean didn't see the small smile that was tugging on Sam's lips.
Inside was almost deserted. It then occurred to Sam that it was probably about two or three in the morning. The desk clerk; a big burly man with a mustache; looked like he rather wanted to kill Sam for checking in this late.
"Hello," he said nervously, "I need a room for two, please." The man grunted.
"Just for one night?" he asked, in thick Russian accent.
"Yes," another grunt,
"That'll be 996 rubles." Sam gulped,
"About that," he started to say, but he was cut off.
"How much did you say it was?" asked Dean, cheerfully.
"996 rubles." The clerk answered, eyeing them both warily.
"Here you go." Dean slapped a number of bills and coins on the counter. Sam's eyes almost bugged out of his head. The clerk slapped their key on the counter and walked away.
They found their room easily; and the room was pretty nice, considering this was the sleaziest motel they could find. But finally Sam couldn't help but ask,
"Dean, where'd you get all that?" Dean shrugged,
"I opened my wallet and all my money had gone Russian." Sam sent a silent thanks up to Gabriel. Stripping down to his boxers, Dean flopped down on the bed closest to the door. Sam did the same, but with a bit more grace. True to form, he took out his laptop and began typing. Dean, knowing that when Sam was in what he liked to call "geek-mode", that he wouldn't be very much help. So, he did the only thing he could; rolled over and drifted off to sleep, silently praying that Sam would find a lead.
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Dean's slumber was anything but restful; for the first time in months, he dreamt of his time in hell; flashes of red light, the smell of fear and blood, and the never ending chorus of tormented screams. Dean's eyes snapped open; his head was killing him. He sat up, putting two fingers on his temples when the headache increased.
"Sammy," he croaked, Sam looked up from the computer.
"You alright?" Before Dean could answer, the headache became a migraine over the span of two seconds. He gasped, clutching at his head and squeezing his eyes shut. The screams began again and he opened his eyes and turned to Sam. But Sam was gone.
Instead, there was a giant, ominous looking mountain, surrounded by a greenish haze. A pair of cruel yellow eyes glowed in the darkness. Then the scene was engulfed by flames, the screams grew louder and louder. There were bodies, thousands of them, strung up with chains and hooks like Dean once had been all screaming in agony. But one voice stood out from all the others; calling out for help, begging for mercy, crying for someone to find him; screaming for Dean. The fire cleared just enough to show one lone body, dangling over a pit of fire, his head hanging limply. A cruel laugh filled the air, and Castiel lifted his head; blood dripping from his mouth and nose. His normally bright blue eyes were glassy and unfocused. His face contorted with pain and the screams began again.
Dean gasped, and suddenly he was back in the motel room, Sam kneeling by his side and grasping his shoulders. It took Dean a moment to realize that he was on the floor, one hand holding his head and the other clenched to Sam's shirt.
"Dean!" Sam's voice was urgent, "Dean, what happened?"
"Cas," Dean whispered
"Cas?" Dean nodded weakly,
"I think I just had one of those freaky-ass premonitions like you used to." Sam's eyes widened,
"Dean, what did you see?"
Still breathing heavily, he said slowly,
"Sammy, I think Cas is in Hell." Sam's jaw dropped, "I saw the mountain. And everyone was screaming and I saw Castiel, hanging by chains and everything was burning…" Dean shuddered, remembering the deadened look in his angel's eyes. That thought alone terrified him more than anything. Sam bit his lip, unsure of what to say,
"But why would you have a vision of Cas? Did he send it to you somehow?"
"Castiel did not send that vision." Both boys snapped their heads up to see Gabriel standing in the room, arms crossed and looking mutinous.
"You did not witness that for any good reason Dean," Gabriel's voice was barely more than a hiss.
"Whoever sent you that vision is toying with you. He knows you're looking for Castiel. And he wants you to find him."
"And you still don't have any idea who is doing this?"
"NO!" Gabriel snarled ferociously, causing Sam to flinch back. Gabriel took a few breaths, and slowly her anger faded to anguish.
"I can feel his pain like it's my own," she whispered miserably. "This demon is taunting us; he knows that I can't see him." She put a hand over her mouth and turned away. Dean stood.
"We're going to find him. And we are going to kill the son-of-a-bitch for doing this to him." Gabriel turned around, her green eyes shining with tears.
"Don't you understand?" she asked in a choked voice, "apart from the angels, you boys are the biggest threat against Hell. This demon is using Cas as bait. He wants to lure you there so he can capture you and make you suffer the same fate. And not even I would be able to find you." Sam stood too. He and Dean exchanged looks.
"We don't care." Sam finally said. "Castiel doesn't deserve this, and if we can help him,"
"Then God knows we will." finished Dean. Gabriel looked at the boys in wonder.
"Thank you," she whispered, "but boys, you have to understand; this thing is so powerful that it's managed to cloak itself completely. Even when the witch was trying to raise Samhain, we still at least knew the town. But now, all I can do is narrow it down to a country!"
"Then we'll search the entire damn country if we have to." said Dean. "I'm not giving up." Sam nodded his agreement.
Gabriel looked at the boys, torn. She wanted nothing more than her brother back; but she couldn't let these two boys just throw their lives away and suffer an eternity in Hell after all they'd done. But another look told her that they would not be persuaded. Placing a hand on their shoulders, she bowed her head
"God help you," she murmured, before vanishing.
Miles away, the demon smiled to itself. Without the Winchesters, the powers of Heaven would soon fall. And then the apocalypse would truly begin.
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A/N: As usual, please drop me a review! If you aren't mad at me yet, you will be in time.
-Shooshkipoo