Don't worry, it'll get actiony any minute now.
One Wing in the Fire (11)
Later, Castiel left Amon's room and did not return. He hovered about the library for a while but found he wasn't at all interested in reading. Then, Veles faithfully at his heels, he wander over to Chuck's office but the twitchy demon was furiously trying to get some paperwork in order and brushed Castiel off with an apologetic mumble. Astaroth was no where to be found and Castiel found himself with a lack of motivation to do anything. He felt blank, like a chalkboard wiped and washed clean, his mind a slick marble surface that thoughts simply slid away from, a vast white space sitting emptily inside his chest. It was a feeling he did not quite understand, a disconnect that had no rhyme or reason to exist, and it was such an aggravating feeling that he wound up trailing back up the stairs to stand in front of Amon's door.
He stared at it for a long moment as if it could give him the answers he sought and, when the blank feeling did not go away, he pushed open the door to his own room and slipped inside. Leaving the door cracked half open, the former angel wandered in an almost listless manner over to his bed and flopped down onto it. Never had he flopped onto anything before but the current blank state of his mind seemed to fit the motion. He lay diagonally across the bedspread, feet dangling over one edge. There was a shuffling, then the bed creaked and bent inwards as Veles climbed up beside him. The hell hound huffed through his big nose and wedged his warm, smoky form against the former angel's side. Castiel absently stretched out one wing and draped it over Veles.
He lay on his stomach for a long moment, thinking, trying to sort out exactly what he was supposed to be feeling.
His Grace was still substantial enough that it was even now affecting the Demon Lords, pushing aside the hellfire in their souls and tugging at their humanity. And in clean contrast, their hellfire was still corrupting his Grace. It was a race to see who would be changed first. A race that Castiel was losing. His goal had been to cleanse the brothers, make them remember who they had been, force their humanity to the surface so that they would free him and allow him to return to Heaven. However, now that he thought of it, he realized that he did not want to use them for his own goals, he wanted to save them. Returning to his brothers and sisters in Heaven seemed like a far away fantasy now, so thick was the black taint on his soul.
Now he simply wanted to raise the brothers out of Hell.
A loud shout pulled him from his thoughts. He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow, and looked towards his door. Veles raised his head, ears twitching forward to catch the sound.
"Dean!" It was Amon's voice, echoing down the stone hallway, an exclamation that was a tangle of wonderment, realization, joy, and confusion, "Dean Winchester!"
Castiel threw himself off the bed, wings flaring as he darted out the door into the hallway. Veles leapt off the bed after him, large paws thudding into the floor. Amon was out in the hall, limping slightly, and when he saw Castiel an excited, half mad smile lit up his face. His teeth were flat, human ones, the belts on his face completely gone, ripped away.
"Cas!" Amon shouted gleefully, darting forward to cling to the former angel's shoulders, "Cas, I remember! God, I remember everything!" There were something like tears in his eyes, his skin was paler, not quite human toned but getting there, his claws receded, his tail shorter and the arrow-tip on it shrunk and less intimidating looking, "I remember…I remember everything and—!"
He froze, emerald eyes darting over Castiel's shoulder. The former angel turned around and saw Astaroth standing at the other end of the hall. His gasmask was dangling around his neck, exposing his mouth and the lower half of his face, something Cas had never seen. The blackness in his eyes was gone and the brown orbs they left behind stared at Amon.
"Sammy…" Amon breathed, stepping away from Castiel and stumbling towards his brother, "Sam…"
"Dean." Astaroth said and his throat bobbed as he swallowed, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, "I remember what we…but how?" His brow crinkled in confusion and his gaze switched to Cas, "You. You're Grace. While we were turning you, you were turning us. And you knew."
"I suspected." Castiel admitted, nodding once, "I thought I could make you remember enough so that you would set me free." He saw Amon's gaze harden, recalled the quick temper, and quickly added, "That has since changed. Your hearts were always too good for Hell, you do not belong here." He raised his chin, shoulders straightening, "I want to raise you from Perdition. I want to give you the life you had before, whatever that might have been."
"We were…Sam and Dean Winchester." Astaroth said softly, "We were hunters and—."
"You fought evil, banished demons, saved people, hunted things, the family business, blah, blah, blah." Drawled an accented voice and everyone whipped around to see Crowley standing casually in the hall, his hands in his pockets.
Veles growled, ears laid back, hackles raised, smoke unfurling from his hulking body in his distrustful anger and dislike. Castiel had never seen Crowley before but he recognized the dark pressure of a Demon Lord and the black feathers on his wings bristled in instant aversion to the demon's presence.
"Crowley," Amon—Dean—hissed, one hand on his younger brother's shoulder to keep himself steady, "You're not allowed here. Get out."
"Now, now, Amon—or should I call you Dean now? Is that your name? It must be so confusing." A sneer spread across Crowley's features, "Not that it matters, you should probably remember why you're here by now. That must be painful. I did want to spare you this, I offered to take the angel from you, it would have saved me a lot of trouble." The Demon Lord of Greed and Desire rubbed his fingertips together, looking at his fingernails as if the other four beings in the room meant nothing to him. Then, in a second, his blood red eyes flashed towards them, burning with fire and claim and walled in rage,
"You made a deal with me. Your souls belong to me. You belong in hell."
Castiel's defenses flared, his anger surged, and his Graced blazed with passion and in defiance of Crowley's claim on the Winchester brother's souls.
"You will not own them any longer." Castiel growled, stepping back to stand between Sam and Dean, gripping their upper arms tightly, "They are coming with me. We are leaving. And you cannot stop us."
Crowley's eyes widened and his power swelled, his features contorting into a furious snarl that warped his human face into something demonic and pure evil. Cas got the impression of fangs tipped in gold and silver, more eyes than the two they could see, and wings of lightning and smoke. Crowley snarled and the noise was a rumble of crackling energy and Castiel snapped his own wings open, feathers brushing the walls. Then he grabbed what little Grace he had and pulled on it, wrapping it around himself, the Winchesters, and Veles as tightly as he could.
"Hold on tight to me," He commanded and his voice rang with silver chimes, giant church bells, crystal, light, fire, and broken glass, "And brace yourselves. This will probably hurt." His bright blue eyes flashed, "I need your permission to leave. Both of you."
"Go! Fly!" Dean shouted at the same time that Sam shouted, "Yes! Go!"
Cas pumped his wings and the solidness of Hell became translucent and watery. Wrapped in Grace and using every bit of strength he could muster, the former angel flew. He flew up and up and up, leaving Crowley's angry snarls behind.
He flew through hellfire and ash, he flew through lashing chains and iron hot meat hooks, he flew through weaker demons whose smoky forms clawed with electric teeth at his shielding Grace. His wings ached and still he flew on. His Grace drained out of him, burning and searing his being as his two sides clashed against one another. And still he flew on. He was aware of only three things; the ascent, Veles balled protectively in his Grace, and his never loosening grip on the Winchesters' arms.
No one could say how long they flew but they knew when they were done.
There was an almighty tearing sound, like a million sheets of paper all being ripped to shreds, and the air was suddenly clean and clear and free of ash and blood and the stinking fumes of Hell they had grown accustomed to.
Castiel stumbled and collapsed to his knees on soft, damp grass, his black wings drooping at his sides, his breathing ragged with exhaustion. Veles, on all fours and nose in the air, let out a long whine.
"Cas!" Strong hands gripped him and hauled him to unsteady feet, "You did it! You dragged us out of Hell! We're free!"
Cas looked around slowly at Sam, who was propping him up gently, a warm smile on his face. Somewhere during the flight, his horns had fallen off and his claws had shrunk away. He looked completely human if one discounted the ragged, demon clothing hanging from his shoulders, torn by the trials of their flight. He was still ridiculously tall, though, and Castiel could faintly taste the demon taint in the air around him. When he glanced at Dean, looking just as human as his brother, he sensed the same thing. They would carry that taint for the rest of their lives and nothing would purge them of it.
And yet still, Castiel managed a smile, "Yes, I did. And I am glad of it."
"Earth!" Dean crowed in the early, misty light of pre-dawn. The sky couldn't decide whether it wanted to be gray or dark gray, mist curled in from the trees around them, the grass was wet with dew, and the air tasted sweet after the fires of Hell.
Veles whined again.
"I cannot believe I thought Hell was better than this!" Dean sucked in a huge breath, chest expanding, eyes closed in apparent bliss, "This is fucking glorious! It's almost as good as sex!"
"Dean!" Sam snapped indignantly but there was still a smile on his face. Castiel smiled too.
"Oh, hey, Cas is smiling again!" Dean pointed excitedly. He limped over, still not completely healed from his run in with the Jersey Devils, and placed a warm hand on Castiel's shoulder, "Dude, we owe you. Big time. You were right, we didn't belong down there."
"I think my original assumption was wrong." Cas murmured, feeling his strength slowly returning. He pushed himself gently off of Sam and stood on his own. Veles circled the three of them, huffing and whining, "I had assumed that you did not remember your human lives for the same reason that other demons did not; because the agony was too much to bear. Now I have come to believe that Crowley sealed your memories in poison chains and hellfire, binding them in your souls. He could not completely rob you of your humanity but he could hide it from you." His tone darkened and a thunder cloud passed briefly over his face, "He was using you to boost the powers of Hell, to create more weapons against the war in Heaven."
"Bastard," Dean growled, fists clenched at his sides, "He tricked us. We…" His words halted in a choked manner and he worked his jaw furiously, as if he was too ashamed to admit what had happened.
"He must have seen an opportunity in us," Sam carried on, his own expression one something like regret and anger, "We made a…a deal with him. Our lives for our father's. If Crowley took us, our dad would live, that was the deal." The youngest Winchester shook his head, "That was…god, that was years ago. Dad's probably long gone by now…"
"Go in peace knowing he is in Heaven, tainted child." Said a voice and suddenly they were everywhere.
Angels.
Wings of white, silver, gold, bronze, and diamond flashed through the mist as they surrounded the four. The troop was dressed in battle armor that gleamed with the early morning dew, ivory and silver twisting together with gold over robes of pure white. Swords were drawn, steel flashing as they raised them to their shoulders.
Veles whined for a third time and the whine became a growl. Sam, Dean, and Cas all backed against one another, shoulders brushing, facing out towards the angels surrounding them.
One angel with wings like polished silver stepped forward and smiled in a somehow demeaning manner at them. There was the impression of lion, eagle, man, and then he spoke and it was just as snobbish, just as obnoxious as that smile,
"Hello Brother Castiel. We've been trying to reach you for a long time."
"Zachariah." Castiel gasped, his blue eyes wide. He did not know if he should be joyous to see his brothers and sisters or wary. True, he had been hoping to return to Heaven, hoping that someone had been looking for him. But they had come prepared for battle, in full armor, with swords drawn. It was not the welcome party he'd expected.
"Everything will be all right now, Castiel." Said another angel, her hair fiery red, her wings burnished bronze, "We're going to take you home. We're going to set you free."
"We're going to purge that demonic taint from your Grace, brother," Zachariah said and hefted his sword so that it was aimed at Sam Winchester's throat,
"And we're going to kill the Demon Lord's who put it there."