Chapter 8

When Dean and Sam pulled into the motel parking lot, Sam noticed that the door to their room was hanging ajar.

"Oh god," Dean breathed and Sam studied his brother. He had never seen Dean this close to panic. His brother was always the hard nut to crack. Even when Sam was in the worst of danger, Dean was able to play it cool and get him out alive. "I can't go in there, Sammy."

"Dean, you have to."

"But what if he's…"

"Dean," Sam rested his hand over his brother's "he's an angel. He'll be ok. You have to do this for him." Dean turned to look at Sam and his large eyes were an open door to the raw torment he housed inside. Sam squeezed his brother's hand once then reached for the door. "Let's go."

The two men went to the trunk and retrieved silver daggers from their weapons hoard. The colt would do in a pinch, but they needed back up in case the gun got knocked out of Dean's hand. Quickly tucking the weapons away, they crossed the parking lot in quick order and peered into the dimly lit motel room. The place was utterly trashed. Food and papers and clothes were scattered all over the floor. The television had been knocked on its side and illuminated the room in static glow. Dean entered quickly and surveyed the area.

"Cas…Castiel!" He called sharply but there was no response. The room was empty. "Ok Dean, don't panic…don't panic."

"Dean," Sam called from the doorway and Dean flew to his brother's side. Sam was kneeling at the entranceway and looked up at Dean with sad, sorry eyes as his brother approached.

"What? What is it?" Dean snapped. Sam seriously thought his brother was going to lose it.

"Dean….look," Sam replied sadly and motioned toward a narrow trail of blood that led off of the stoup and out into the darkness. Dean stood there for a moment, almost looking like he was in disbelief, and then something left his eyes. It was like all reason had flown the coop. Before Sam could stop him, Dean broke into a run.

"Dean!" Sam called after the fading figure and then cursed under his breath. What the hell was wrong with his brother? Never has anyone affected him in this way. Not that Sam was jealous. No, he had about enough of Crazy Dean to last a lifetime. Moving to stand, Dean noticed the colt laying in the dust next to the motel door. Dean must have dropped it when he took off running after god knows what. Cursing again, Sam grabbed the gun and stuffed it into his pants by his hip. He was not as good a shot as Dean, but he expected this would be a close ranged fight. Taking a moment to close the motel room door so as to not attract attention, Sam turned and ran after his brother into the darkness; following the trail of blood.

Castiel could feel blood on his temple. It was warm, when his face felt so cold. Below him the rest of his body burned like Hell's fire. But the pain let him know that he was alive. How long had he been laying there? When had the fight begun?

He had been sitting in the motel room pondering whether or not to try on Dean's pants again when the door flew open and this brown haired vetala strode in. Cas was caught off guard and before he had a chance to attack, she kicked at his knee and the bone cracked under his skin. After that, all Castiel could remember was pain.

He had never known pain like this before. Even all the time he spent in heaven while they tortured him and branded him and cast him into exile, Castiel did not know this level of pain. But the fog was lifted now; the mask stripped away, and suddenly sensations were not so inviting anymore.

"Where is the book?" He heard the woman scream and she kicked him again. This time it was his ribs that cracked and Castiel wailed from the agony of it. The voice of reason in his mind that reminded him that he was an angel; that these broken bones could be mended time and time again by the will of his Grace, was swallowed into the oceans of pain he was feeling. Finding the way to make these wounds heal seemed so far removed from the hell he was enduring in that moment.

"Tell me!" The woman shouted as she wrenched his head up by his hair. Castiel was laying across the floor, not realizing he had fallen, and when she pulled at him, the pain overwhelmed him and he vomited over her shoes. She cursed at him and kicked him hard in his face which twisted his neck and left him lying limply on his back. He stared up at the ceiling as it swam in front of him.

"You disgust me. I never met an angel before, but really… I expected more of a fight. You're pathetic." Cas could feel teeth lose in his mouth as blood ran freely down his throat. He suspected she had broken his jaw. He watched as she shifted through belongings, and dumped his friend's possessions all over the room. His body wanted him to vomit again, the pain was just so intense, but he fought back the sting of hysterics and focused his mind so he wouldn't pass out. She was looking for a book. What book? Already she had thrown a few aside and Dean's pack was empty. She turned to Sam's and rummaged through his items as well. To her, Castiel was long since dismissed as not being a threat. Slowly, Cas found the will to correct his body. He righted his leg, his rib, his jaw, and as he did the pain subsided to a dull ache. He was able to think again, and all he could think was that he had to act.

"Ah…" said the vetala woman as she turned toward him. "Here it is." Her fangs looked like sharks teeth in the moon light as she examined a small leather bound book in her hands. It was the journal of the Winchester boy's father John. Dean and Sam often looked to that book for guidance. They needed that book as much as they needed to Colt revolver. As much as they needed him. Suddenly the vetala woman blinked and the book was gone. It was there, and then it wasn't. She snarled and focused on Castiel.

"Where is it?' She snapped and Castiel smiled at her as he rose to his feet.

"I hid it," he said with an air of triumph.

"Where? Where is it?" Suddenly she was on him again, clawing into him with her nails and teeth. Castiel shoved her off of him but she only charged at him again desperate to find the book. Blood trickled from where she had marked him but he was able to ignore the pain.

"You will never get it no matter how hard you fight me," Cas said, struggling to catch his breath, "I have hidden it in here." And he pointed at his heart. The monster stared at him for a moment and he stared back at her. Then she was on him so quickly he had no time to react and her teeth sank deep into his shoulder. Castiel cried out once, then his body fell uselessly to the floor.

"I don't have time for this," snapped the woman, "I'll dig it out of you if I have to but this ends here and now." Castiel couldn't move. Her bite seemed to have paralyzed him somehow. He watched helplessly as the vetala lifted him and slung him over her shoulder before retreating out into the night. In the distance he could hear the familiar purr of a late model engine.

"Dean," he said with a groan, before even speech was taken from him with the venoms effects.

Now, what seemed like an eternity later, he laid limp while the monster woman cut into him with her claws and teeth. He could feel her inside him; digging around his body like a worm, and the pain was insurmountable. If he could have been able to scream, he would have howled until his throat was dry. She would never be able to find the book. He hid it deep inside his Grace- the most sacred place of protection. He tried to tell her that before, but she didn't want to listen, and he couldn't tell her that now. She seemed so desperate, he doubted she would have listened if he was able to tell her anyway.

Cas surprised himself with a soft groan and realized the paralysis must be wearing off. Would he be able to heal himself too? Would he be allowed the chance to rip this creature limb from limb for all the pain she had caused him? His mind seethed with revenge and he yearned to cut into her in ways he had not seen since his last visit in Hell. Castiel waited, trying not to give away his slow recovery, as the vetala tore at him again and again.

Off in the distance he could hear someone crashing through the trees and Cas suddenly felt cold. It was Dean. He knew it had to be Dean. But he was coming too quickly. He was going to get hurt! Cas strained to fight against the venom coursing through him but it was still unrelenting. The vetala did not hear him but she would soon, and what would she do? Would she tear into Dean in the same way? Make Cas watch so as to torment him? He would give her anything, including the book, just to keep her from hurting Dean. He could not bear to see the agony on the other man's face. It was hard enough to see it when he pulled Dean out of hell. He never wanted his friend to hurt like that again.

"Castiel!" Dean shouted as he broke into the clearing brandishing a silver knife. He reached the vetala and it seemed as though he might plunge it into her but she turned at the last moment and smacked him away. Dean slammed into a tree and fell to the ground with the knife knocked out of his hand. Cas strained to go to his friend but he could only twitch the fingers of his right hand. He needed more time! The woman pulled her hands out of Cas's body which was a great relief to him and allowed him the time he needed to correct his organs and heal his wounds. He was grateful that this much could be done in spite of his current state. With the worst of it mended, Cas turned his attention to his blood and examined the lengths of his endocrine system for the poison that resided there.

He worked fervently to cleanse his body as he watched the monster turn to Dean and lift him into the air with her bloody fist. Dean grunted as he fought for breath and the monster woman grinned up at him.

"Hello again, Dean," said the vetala through the sharp teeth of her grin.

"Angel…when did you turn into such a royal bitch," Dean spat back at her through gritted teeth. Angel. The name infuriated Castiel. He could detect the venom now, and used his fury to focus his body as he worked to push the vile creatures poison out of his vessel's pores. Soon he would be able to stop this, if Dean could just hold on…

Sam slipped into the clearing and took in the scene. Much smarter than his brother it seemed; Cas would have to speak about that with Dean later. Sam's eyes fell on Cas and grew wide. The angel could only imagine how he must look with all his blood decorating his clothing, but he lifted his arm and motioned towards Dean. Sam looked towards his brother, struggling to stay conscious, and pulled the gun to zero its sites on Angel. She turned towards him and smiled.

"Another hunter to play with," she spat and tossed Dean towards his brother so that they both fell to the earth in a heap. Dean took in gasps of air and nodded at Sam to signal he was ok. "I am sick of this game, boys. I want the book that your angel friend is hiding and two hunter's deaths mean very little to me now." She moved closer to the two men and grabbed at both their throats with her hands. Her strength far surpassed that of the Winchesters, and she pinned them easily to the ground.

"I could rip out both of your throats right now," said Angel through her jagged teeth, "The Cheiftess demands the book and I intend to deliver. Tell your angel to give it to me now, or I will decorate all of you in your own blood!" Angel's mistake was turning her back on Castiel. She was so convinced he was in no way a threat, that she didn't notice him ebb the poison of her bite out of his pores, or see him space shift to where the silver knife still rested. She did not sense him behind her in that moment while she taunted and choked his friends. That is until Cas plunged the silver knife deep into her back, and twisted it for good measure. She didn't scream, which was a bit disappointing to him, but instead threw her body back as the poison of the silver overtook her and her skin tarnished to black.

Cas studied the pain he could see in the vetala's eyes as the poison worked its way into her face and she took her last breath. He thought about all the pain she had caused him and the ways he thought of torturing her for it. Those feelings of revenge still burned hot in him, but he was easily able to keep them at bay. Cas dropped the knife and stepped away from the woman's corpse without another glance. It was starting. The fog in his mind was beginning to return.