Dean grunted upon the impact of his back hitting the bookshelf. Books rained down around him around him, flying across the floor in a hodgepodge of leather covers and dusty pages. Pain flared up in his spine as he slid to the floor with a grimace.
Him and Sammy's latest hunt had lead them to an old library in southern Pennsylvania where a shapeshifter was making its rounds. It had taken them by surprise upon arriving at the old dusty place, taking that advantage to get Sam pretty good in the head. Dean's brother was lethargically trying to push himself off the floor now, only a few feet from where Dean was attempting to take on the shifter. So far it wasn't going all too well.
"Dean..." Sam mumbled from where he was still collapsed, putting a tentative hand on the back of his head.
"I'm fine." grumbled Dean, looking up to ready himself for another blow from the monster. It wasn't there however. Dean looked from left to right, scanning the room as best he could through the bookshelves but he saw no sign of the creature. "Shit..." he mumbled, getting up and shuffling through the fallen books, trying to listen for any clue of the existence of the sneaky bastard. He wouldn't let it get the jump on him again.
"Come on!" Dean yelled out into the air gruffly. "I don't have all day!"
That's actually exactly what the Winchesters had though. With no leads on Amara and no word from Rowena or Crowley, what else were they to do?
"Deaaaaaaan." he suddenly heard a woman's voice ring out. It was a deep, dark, and luring sound, like a beautiful shadow slipping across a landscape silently. Dean knew that voice. He knew it wasn't genuine, but his heart still faltered for a moment. He heard someone rush by behind him a few bookshelves over, snapping his attention in the opposite direction.
"Don't you want me Dean?" the voice asked, growing closer and clearer. Dean shuddered where he stood, gripping his knife firmly in his hand. He kept hearing noises all around him, turning his focus back and forth only long enough to catch a glimpse of the shifter running by.
Finally, it appeared. Well, more like she appeared. What appeared to be Amara stepped out from behind the bookshelf, flowing black gown of silk and all. Her eyes locked with Dean's and he froze, hearing a moan of protest from Sam behind him but ignoring it for now.
"Oh yes, Dean. Word's getting around about your little fling with the darkness." The shapeshifter sneered, walking closer to Dean in a dauntingly slow glide. Dean didn't answer- he just lunged forward in attempt to plunge the knife into the shifter's heart but it dodged last second, sending Dean headfirst into another bookshelf. This time his reaction time was quicker as he shot to his feet again, frustration and anger fueling his will to fight.
"Or maybeeee..." the shifter softly spoke, moving behind another bookshelf and coming out the other end but this time, in a different shape. Dean felt his fists unclench as the form of Castiel stepped out, tilting his head at Dean and flashing him those typical confused and innocent angel eyes. Dean gritted his teeth. He'd tear this thing apart... just... not when it was in this form.
"How the hell do you know about Castiel?" Dean demanded, raising his knife up to gleam in the dusty rays of afternoon sunlight beaming through the dirty windows.
"Everyone knows, Dean Winchester. He's the most wanted angel and now he's riding shotgun with Lucifer too? Your precious angel sure does know how to make a name for himself." the monster said in Cas's deep, gruff voice. It advanced towards Dean once again, rolling its shoulders back and cracking its neck.
"Don't know what's so great about this outfit he wears all the time though..."
Dean lunged forward, holding the knife to "Cas's" throat, pinning him against the bookshelf. The fake-Castiel just grinned at him but then dropped into a hurt looking expression.
"You'd really hurt me Dean?"
"Hell yeah, you aren't Cas. I don't see a problem."
The creature grabbed Dean's wrist forcefully and suddenly, making him jump. Instead of trying to push Dean away though, the shifter held the knife closer to its neck enough for blood to start to coat the sharp edge of the weapon. Dean felt himself shaking. Maybe he couldn't do it. Holding the knife to the Castiel imposter still hit a little close to home remembering when Dean had been a demon.
"Then do it." the monster said. "Finish the job that you couldn't earlier when you nearly kabobbed your dear old-"
The shifter couldn't finish though. Instead he let out a scream of agony, dropping to his knees with wide eyes. Dean stepped back completely confused before seeing a knife protruding from "Castiel's" abdomen. The shifter fell forward into a pool of books, blood seeping out from underneath the exact copy of Cas's usual dress shirt. Dean's face hardened as he turned away from the scene that it appeared Sam had created. His brother must've gathered enough strength to crawl over and stab the creature- something Dean almost seemed incapable of doing.
"Thanks." Dean muttered quietly as Sam pushed himself up to stand next to his older brother. Dean felt Sammy's hand on his shoulder, relaxing him just a bit.
"You okay? Your head okay?" Dean asked, turning to look at Sam who looked to be doing a lot better.
"Yeah, it still hurts like hell but I'll put some ice on it at home." Sam said, rubbing the back of his head gently.
"Then let's get out of here." Dean agreed grimly, stepping over the books to leave the image of his dead friend behind.
It didn't take too long to get home and thank God for that- Dean was exhausted. Sam slept in the car on the way home, still holding the gauze to his head that Dean had given him from the back. His brother's low and steady breathing had been the only sound in the car other than the hum of the engine which gave Dean a long time to think about everything.
Out of all the things Dean had tried to mentally prepare himself for the near future and whatever the whole darkness problem brought, what him and Sam came home too was not one of them.
As they walked through the threshold of the bunker, agreeing on a movie to watch for the night just to relax.
"Dude, Die Hard's a classic."
"Alright, alright. Just don't recite all the lines like you always do. It gets old." Sam complained, dropping his suitcase in the living room. Dean rolled his eyes and shoved Sam playfully, causing his giant mountain of a brother to smile tiredly and stumble.
Dean sighed and extended his arms out in front of him, trying to stretch out the pain that still was flaring up dully at the base of his spine.
"I'll make the popcorn since you're all injured." Dean said, flipping on the lights to the dining area, his heart skipping a bit when he did. There was someone sitting at the giant table in the middle of the room, staring back at him. Dean's first reaction was panic and readiness to fight, but he relaxed just a bit when he saw exactly who it was. The corner of his lips turned up into a smile of disbelief.
"Son of a bitch..." Dean whispered under his breath, looking at the smiling face of Chuck at his very own dining table. Sam must've heard his quiet comment, his brother letting out a surprised laugh of amazement behind him.
"Chuck?"
"It's me." Chuck said awkwardly, holding out his arms as if to present himself. Dean walked forwardly slowly and unsurely.
"But... we were sure you were dead."
Chuck nodded as if he completely understood this.
"Yeah, there was Kevin... another prophet." Sam added.
"Yeah, it's a long story and I've been busy but I didn't come for that." Chuck said, his nostalgic smile fading into a more serious expression. "You need to get Lucifer out of the picture. Get him out of Cas."
Dean threw up his hands.
"Yeah, we've been trying. They were both taken by-"
"The darkness, I know." Chuck finished. Dean raised his eyebrows. He had nearly forgotten about Chuck's enhanced ability to look into the future. At times to even a creepy extent, especially when him and Sam would end up with tons of books all about their life.
"Well..." Sam said after a brief period of silence. "Do you know how?"
"I know where. You guys need to do the rest."
"Chuck..." Dean cut in, his eyes narrowing a bit. "I'm thrilled to have you back and all, but this whole task showing up suddenly at our doorstep seems a little..."
"Out of the blue?" Sam suggested.
"Yeah, and not to mention, how'd you even get in here?"
Chuck sighed and looked between Sam and Dean.
"We really don't have time for answers. Castiel may be dead by then."
Dean felt his heart drop- dead? Why dead?
"What?" Sam asked, a clear tone of abrupt surprise in his voice.
"Amara is trying to torture Lucifer to see if it will draw God out." Chuck said in rushed words. "And while Lucifer can handle it as a full fledged archangel, Castiel's grace isn't quite at full capacity from what I understand. It's only a matter of time."
"Shit..." Dean whispered under his breath. "Alright, in the car then. Chuck- I hope you know how to get to wherever it is we're going." Dean said, already striding towards the door. Sam kicked into action mode as well, grabbing a new gauze from the cupboard before following Dean out, Chuck behind them. This whole thing was so strange- nothing that was too out of the ordinary for their lives in general, though. People tended to pop in and out of the picture, both alive and previously dead. If Chuck was ever dead that is.
"Dean, I hate to seem like the glass half-empty guy, but we don't even have the slightest of ideas of how we are getting Cas out of there. I mean... it's the darkness." Sam said as the three guys got in the car, Chuck in the back.
"Yeah, yeah. I know." Dean said, turning the key in the ignition and letting the car roar to life.
"Here." he said, tossing his phone to Sam. "Call Crowley."
"Crowley?" Sam asked, confused.
"You got a better idea? At least we can trust him to help us for his own selfish reasons."
Sam sighed and flipped through Dean's contacts until he found Crowley's number and held the phone to his ear. Dean backed up down the driveway and onto the abandoned gravel street, stepping on the gas and listening to the engine complain.
"How far are we going, Chuck?"
"Don't worry, we're already almost there."
Cas screamed and fell to his knees, his forehead resting against the trembling wall in front of him. His hands clenched at the hem of his trench coat in attempt to somehow ease the pain that was burying him in waves of agony. Amara was at it again, this time enraged that God hadn't showed the first time and now taking it out on Lucifer and Cas. At this point, Castiel let himself admit that there probably was no fight between Lucifer and Amara. There was only this- this crippling pain until he died alone in the consequences of his own stupid decisions.
The pain let up again- but Cas was hardly relieved. She would only start again in a few moments.
"Cas." he heard a breathy voice appear from behind him. Cas was still so shaken from the torturing pain that he didn't even bother to look around. He kept leaning against the wall curled into himself, just waiting in terror for the next blow to come. He needn't move anyway though. Lucifer approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder and turning Castiel to face him.
"Hey listen, I'm not having any luck with this." Lucifer said, taking fast and labored breaths. Cas guessed this whole predicament wasn't all too enjoyable for him either, but at least he had a full grace to defend against it.
"You got us into this." mumbled Castiel weekly. He just wanted to... to give up, honestly. As much as he didn't want to admit it.
"Yeah... why don't you get out there and see what you can do." Lucifer said, reaching to put two fingers on Cas's forehead, but Castiel shied away.
"What, are you mad? This is your doing, Lucifer. And at this point you can take much more than I can."
"Yeah, I'm not exactly leaving you with a choice." Lucifer said, shrugging as if to unapologetically saying "sorry". Lucifer reached forward and touched Cas just enough to throw Cas back into reality- back in control of Jimmy's vessel and just in time to come face to face with Amara.
"Amara." Cas muttered hatefully. It came out quiet and weak but he was pretty sure his tone got his point across.
"Castiel." she replied plainly. "I guess Lucifer cowered and is letting you do all his dirty work then."
Cas glared at her and tried to move within his vessel for the first time in what felt like forever. He felt his hands restrained above his head however, although not by rope or any other material (besides, that would never hold an angel), but by nothing at all. Castiel struggled the best he could against the invisible force, but it was much too strong and he was much too weak at the moment.
"Lucifer I understand, but I don't know what's so special to God about you." She said, narrowing her eyes at him through thick eyelashes. Castiel wavered on his feet, watching objects blur around him in whatever abandoned warehouse they appeared to be in. He was pressed up against an old boxcar from a train, barely able to stand with his arms bound tightly. Things weren't looking all too great.
"Or to Dean." she added, taking a step closer to him. Castiel felt an aura of unease run over him. It was almost the same feeling that he got when he was around a demon- like every single molecule of his existence was rubbed the wrong way from an opposite force that knew an angel was near except this time, to a much greater magnitude.
"Are you going to tell me I'm just his pet, as well?" Cas croaked out, taking deep breaths in attempt to soothe the dull pain still residing in him.
"No." she said, suddenly shooting her hand forward and moving under his shirt, grazing her long nails against the skin of his hip. Castiel tried to shy away, but Amara just smile and continued to tauntingly touch him.
"I don't need to. I see the doubt in your eyes already." she said, digging her nails into his flesh. Cas groaned and let his head fall, his muscles tightening against the pain. He felt a warm trickle of blood slide down his hip and catch at the hem of his pants.
Well that's not good. Cas thought, realizing he could actually feel the warmth of his blood. He shouldn't be able to feel the temperature change. Would this be the last straw before his grace diminished completely?
"Don't worry, Castiel." Amara whispered, stepping even closer to put move her mouth next to ear. "You won't see him again." Amara dug her nails in deeper as Castiel screamed, but it was soon drowned out by the crash of the wall collapsing, a giant black mass flying through. Cas's gaze lethargically shifted to the commotion of the wall being smashed in, noting that the object was Dean's black Impala. Cas wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed- his selfish side told him to be relieved. He wanted Sam and Dean to save him- he wanted to go home with them and bury himself under the covers of Sam's bed so that he could watch more of the Netflix while brushing off the irritating pools of the "popped corn" growing all around him while Dean made a game of throwing the strange snack to mess with him.
The other side of Cas told him that he was a coward for wanting this. It told him he was being unreasonable and that he deserved this- not the imaginary family scenario that everyone told him he created in his head to seem less lonely. Was he lonely? Or alone? Or useless or a screw up or-
"Amara!" Dean's voice yelled as he stepped out of his "Baby" as Dean liked to call it. Cas never did understand why he called this inanimate automobile an infant. At that moment as Cas slumped against the old boxcar at the mercy of the Darkness herself, he allowed himself to be glad to hear that voice. Whether this supposed rescue mission would end well or not was another story...