Oh, I'm good to you guys ;) another chapter so soon.

This one is dedicated to Pyro42x because of their inspirational and lovely message to me which just made me so happy ^.^ So thank you :D

WARNING: This chapter contains graphic imagery of violence and torture, so if you are sensitive to that kind of thing then you might want to stop reading

I don't own anything Supernatural :(

Enjoy ^.^

The screaming, quivering mass on the rack looked nothing like the Dean Winchester that Castiel knew and cared for. It looked like a slab of meat that had been butchered beyond recognition of ever having been alive, and yet it was, even now it screamed as it was hacked at with knives and cleavers by the laughing demons. For a split second, Castiel could only stare, horrified; while all eyes turned to him.

Surely, this was not Dean, surely he had been misled, it was a trap, it must be. Because his strong, defiant, brave, astounding Dean, could never be reduced to this … whatever this was. But he knew it was true, because in that moment, those familiar, sea green eyes met his, full of such pain and defeat and hopelessness that Castiel's heart filled with an emotion he couldn't name. He wasn't sure he liked this emotion, so he morphed it into anger.

How dare they treat Dean this way?! Dean Winchester was under his protection, and Castiel would personally see to it that they were punished, all of them, for even taking the slightest joy in creating the mess before him. Blood stained the walls and the faces of his tormentors a pool of it congealed on the floor under the rack, bits of flesh and bone were strewn throughout the room, flaps of skin that didn't seem to be attached to anything, hung from the metal that chained him.

Castiel had never felt such anger, such pure, unbridled hatred for every being in that room that had so much as looked in Dean's direction. He no longer felt oppressed by the location he was in, or weighed down by the use of his power. He bristled and his wings unfurled in a spike of lightning. He was unconcerned with the demons who ran at him, he brushed them aside with ease, slamming them backwards into a wall, a door, each other, he didn't care.

He could feel his true form begin to outshine his vessel, the Heavenly light adorned him, making him glow with power and righteousness, he walked forwards, slowly. Silence fell as he approached Crowley, the king of Hell, who was the reason for his friend's current state. Although Crowley didn't step away, he did look nervous. But his voice was as slick and grating as ever as he let out an uneasy laugh.

'Ahh, Castiel, so good of you to join us' he said with a smirk. The angel felt his rage building, how could this demon stand there and joke?

'You have no claim to Dean Winchesters body or soul' Castiel said, surprised to hear that his own voice was strong and steady. 'You will release him to me. Now.' something flickered in Crowley's eyes but he stood his ground. Castiel had to admit that this demon had strength.

'Actually' he replied 'you'll find I do. You see I made a deal with moose, his brother' he jerked his thumb at Dean. 'And both his body, and his soul were in the terms I set.'

'Your terms.' Castiel emphasised. 'Not his. No contract was signed, no deal was sealed; and the circumstances in which you attempted to make this deal were unlawful in the coercion involved. So I will be taking Dean Winchester. And you will not stop me.' And with that, he turned his back on the king of Hell and took one step towards Dean before Crowley spoke again

'Oh, will I not?'

Castiel half turned to look at Crowley in the eyes, something passed over the demons face and he smirk disappeared.

'No' Castiel said 'you will not.' Crowley raised his hands in surrender as Castiel marched towards him and snagged the angel tablet from inside his coat, 'and I'll take that' he said, stowing it inside his own before he made his way to Dean. Inspecting the damage done, and realising that it was worse than he had feared.

'Good look getting him out of here angel' Crowley spat from behind him 'as soon as he leaves Hell, squirrel will become road-kill. If he even survives the journey.' Castiel didn't reply, but knew he was right. But the fact that he was right angered him even more as he looked into Dean's eyes and saw everything that this precious human being had been through, all of the light, laughter and the love, forgotten. All that remained was pain.

'Close your eyes, Dean' Castiel said softly. The green irises blinked uncomprehendingly. Perhaps he couldn't hear him, perhaps he didn't understand. Castiel felt his power growing within him, rising to the surface, ready to burst out any second. Castiel wrapped his wings around the rack to shield him and placed his hand as gently as he could, over the eyes.

Then, he unleashed his wrath.

He heard the screams of demons as they disintegrated, heard Crowley curse, and the sound gave him a perverted satisfaction. He watched as his light flooded the chamber, scouring it clean of demon filth. When the whole room had been filled, he let go, the light dimmed and they were alone. Unfortunately, it was impossible to tell whether any demons had escaped or not because there was nothing left of them.

Ignoring this, Castiel laid his hand on Dean, only to find that his healing capacities were greatly weakened. It barely did more move a few pieces of skin into position. Even that seemed agonising to Dean. Castiel undid his bonds and caught him when he fell. He too, dropped to the ground and cradled Dean without really knowing why. His wings curled around the both of them as he embraced his greatest friend. Or at least, what was left of him.

He did not dare put him to sleep for fear that he would not wake. Castiel felt helpless. It was all he could do to just sit there and heal him, little by little, until he was strong enough to survive the journey. But they did not have the luxury of time. If Crowley or any of the others had survived then they would be on their way to rally all the forces of Hell down on them. But Dean would not survive the escape in this state, and it would be beyond his power to bring him back. He was useless. What good had he done really? He felt lost. He needed someone to tell him to 'get off his butt and do something', someone who made him believe in himself even when all was lost. He needed Dean. And he had him, now there was a cruel irony.

Castiel let out a bitter laugh and felt something warm on his face. He touched it and looked at his fingers. Water. He frowned, confused, and looked upwards for a leak although he doubted very much that Hell had plumbing. Then it dawned on him. He was crying! He blinked in surprise. This was unheard of. A weeping angel on Earth. Crying not about injustice, or a war between his brothers, or because he was repenting his sins. But because of an emotion. A feeling that seemed so deep and part of him that he could not imagine now being without it. And it was wonderful, it was terrible, and it was exhilarating all at the same time. He didn't understand it. But he knew that it was something to do with Dean. Something about the profound bond they shared, something about their souls being connected.

That was it!The thought hit Castiel so strongly and suddenly that it was like flicking on a light bulb. But he was loath to do it. Castiel laid the now reasonably humanoid shape on the floor as gently as he could. Dean moaned and the angel had to grit his teeth together. He then leaned over him and looked him straight in the eyes.

'This is going to hurt Dean' he said 'I am truly sorry', Dean just blinked at him, but there was an understanding mixed with the fear, a familiarity that made Castiel almost smile. Castiel took that for consent and nodded. He then reached into what was left of Dean's stomach cavity with both hands, and pressed. Dean cried out in pain, his raw nerves too sensitive to endure this too. But Castiel persisted, apologising over and over again, hating that he was the one causing Dean to make those sounds, feel this pain. He kept going until he felt it, and he nearly recoiled.

This soul felt worse than Sam's had. It had been flayed alive and twisted and pulled and torn and remade a thousand times over. And Castiel felt more tears fall as Dean screamed, as his soul twitched. Castiel dug deeper, and felt around, trying to gage the best angle, the least painful way, an actual way to hold it without it turning to light and dust in his fingers.

After careful judgement, he finally managed to take hold of the thing. And gently, oh so gently, pulled it out of it's vessel. He cradled it in hands. To him, it was the most precious thing in the universe. As beaten and torn and damaged as it was, it's light still managed to find a way to shine. Then he stood and, gripping Dean's fragile soul tight, he gathered the last of his power, and raised Dean Winchester from perdition once more.

So what are we thinkin'? Do you like? Hate? Care? :P

Please let me know any and all opinions, good or bad. I really appreciate it

Love Tibbins xx