Well, here we are again :D with another speedy update from yours truly ;)

As promised, this chapter is dedicated to Tashiya for her lovely long reviews, thank you ^.^

I own nothing :(

Enjoy ^.^

Castiel landed, crouched, one hand on the slick stone floor. The corridor was cold, but there was a pressure in it that made it seem like it was burning. Castiel did not envy the humans here, with their sensitivity to temperature. All he could hear were screams, men, women and children, wailing, screaming, yelling, sobbing and some even laughing hysterically. Castiel pressed his hands to his ears and hissed. It was a horrible sound, the sound of thousands of souls being tortured into madness, the sound of violence and cruelty and malice and all of the things that angels stood against.

He was not meant to be here. Once the initial pain subsided, he straightened up and surveyed his surroundings. Now he had to find Dean in this maze. He wouldn't be in the same torture cell as last time. But as he didn't make a habit to frequent Hell, he had no idea where his best friend could be. Or the way to get there. Because of the etchings he had made on Dean's ribs, he couldn't lock on to his soul as he had last time.

Then again, Castiel doubted that his ribs would stay intact for long, Castiel winced at that thought. He had had faint flickerings of Dean's presence over the past couple of hours but had dismissed it as thinking of him, after all, Hell had it's own way of blocking signals, which was why when a soul went there, their spark went out, or at least dimmed. Usually, but since Dean's body was down here too, and now that he was down here, he might be able to get a tangible signal, once his ribs were broken of course.

He edged his way along the wall to peer around the corner, no demons. Even if he couldn't get a signal from Dean (and Castiel would be almost thankful that his bones hadn't had to be decimated for him to be saved) then all Castiel had to do was find the most well guarded place in Hell. He stepped out and began to walk. It felt aimless and Castiel was uncomfortable with his exposure, and his less-than-foolproof plan. He was also unhappy with leaving Dean in Crowley's clutches for any longer.

He heard footsteps and ducked into one of the many side tunnels, three demons passed, laughing.

'Did you hear him screaming?' the first said

'How could you not?' The second replied, 'you can hear him from two passages away'

'He almost got me once' the third said with a toss of her hair 'I'm surprised Crowley hasn't killed him yet'

'No' said the second 'they need him for the deal with the other'

'If you ask me, the Winchesters are more trouble than they're worth' the first put in 'Especially that one' he jerked his thumb behind him 'did you see the crowd inside? All the demons he's managed to piss off, taking turns with him' he burst into laughter again. Castiel's fists clenched tightly as he listened, waiting for them to fade from earshot before heading in the direction they had come from. He stepped lightly, making barely any noise. On Earth, he was confident enough to stride purposefully anywhere, but here …

There was something about this place that felt wrong to him. Perhaps the concentration of demons or the sounds of terror that echoed off the stone, or the people that watched him pass with wide, fearful eyes, unsure whether he was a demon or a hallucination or something else entirely. He ignored them as best he could. But when he saw a small girl, covered with welts and bawling in her steel cage, crying to him for help, he took pity and laid his hand on her. Her pain disappeared and she cried in relief. For now.

He turned his head away, trying not to imagine what new horrors awaited her for the rest of eternity. One step, then another. This place was oppressive, the very air seemed to shimmer with malice. It forbade angelic help, any kind of help or relief for it's poor charges. It was like a weight, pressing on him, a weight that had become heavier when he healed the girl. The more 'angel mojo' he used, he knew, the heavier it would become, this place was designed to crush any light like a bug.

Suddenly, a rush of emotion, a flare of light in the darkness, a string that tethered him to the soul he was seeking, to Dean. He grasped hold tight and was instantly there. Or at least close. He hadn't dared to risk appearing in the middle of a room full of demons and Crowley without the slightest knowledge of numbers or even where he was.

It was then that he heard the screams, more heart breaking, gut wrenching and terrible than he had ever heard, it wasn't the sound of pain, it wasn't the sound of torture, it was the sound of a soul being torn to shreds, piece by piece, only to be remade to be torn apart again, and again. And what made it even worse was that he knew that voice, those screams, that soul. He knew them as well as his own, the sound of the agony his friend was in, coupled with the most recent use of his power, sent him gasping to his knees. It was several minutes before the screams stopped for the briefest of seconds and Castiel could struggle back to his feet.

His face contorted as the sounds began again, it was as if he could feel it too, the pain, it hurt him to hear his more than friend like this. He made himself take a step towards the sound, and another, and another until he reached the end of the passage.

Demons, he could sense them. He managed a glance, two of them, guarding a door from which the screams came. He couldn't afford to alert those inside to his presence, and such a small jump shouldn't weaken him too much, he appeared between them and before they had a second to react, his hands were on their heads and he smote them from their vessels with a flash of light.

He managed to lay them down gently so they did not fall and make a noise and then he took a moment to gather his courage and his strength, smiting the demons had taken it's toll and the air pressure seemed heavier than ever. Then Dean let out another sound of pure agony and there was laughter and taunting. He almost ran, he wasn't sure he could bear the sight of his friend in such torment, and he was sure that Dean would not want to be seen by him at his most vulnerable.

But Dean had willingly placed himself in this situation for the greater good, so that Sam could finish the trials and trap all demons in this Godforsaken place. He had done it, knowing exactly what it meant for him, what pain he would have to endure, he had done it because it was right. Dean was strong. So much stronger than Castiel, who had erred and lost sight of what was important in his attempts to complete his own mission. He had forgotten what was right, forgotten what he had been fighting for. But now it was crystal clear in his mind. His cause was Dean, his purpose was Dean, he would face immeasurable odds and give his live and soul for Dean.

Castiel squared his shoulders and faced the thick, wooden door where Dean's screams were coming from.

Fully aware that he didn't want to see what he was about to see, Castiel flung open the doors in order to fight for Dean Winchester.

So ... what do we think? A little more Destiel right? ;)

I wanted to get across their connection from Cas' point of view as emotions are new and confusing for our favourite angel :P

I hope I did good :)

Please give me feedback, reviews are love and life and souls ;)

Love Tibbins xx