Castiel, Balthazar and Carmen didn't know what they were expecting. It almost felt like they were prisoners. People behind them, people ahead of them. All of them had guns too. Where did they get guns? But considering how time worked in this realm...maybe a hundred years accumulating over time was understandably enough time to build weapons..especially when the entourage looked like they were all military in a past life.
They had bound them. Which should have been expected. It was surprising to find Castiel complying. There was a strange smile while John approached him with metal links that chained his ankles to his wrists and another connecting them to eachother which forced them to walk in one direct. Order being Castiel, Carmen and Balthazar. Once John approached Castiel, Castiel was staring at him with this wide-eyed smile on his face. It might have been amusing if Carmen didn't understand what it meant. There was no humor behind a smile like that.
"Who did you betray, John?" Castiel asked, tilting his head as the man approached. "I assume the rumors surrounding your death were quite true then? The human who sold his son to the devil."
"What?" Carmen stared at him. "Sold his son? You sold Dean to Lucifer? Why?"
John's gaze could cut right through Castiel. "You don't know anything."
"Quite interesting," Castiel mused.
"Shut up," John snapped, clicking the metal cuffs together so they locked in place and then taking a pocket blade out to draw something on Castiel's wrist. With a shock, Carmen realized it was a binding rune, the same one that Dante had used to incapacitate Balthazar, prevent him from using his power or use flight to fly away.
Castiel leaned forward seemed to sniff John's neck. It was the most jaded image Carmen had ever seen. First off, John looked like Dean...obviously. It was like he was talking to Dean in that manner..taunting and cold..and she had never once imagined she would live to see that. How was it not...awkward for him? How was it not...wrong? Maybe it wasn't Dean Winchester, but it looked like Dean Winchester. And they probably had the same gene pool. Didn't that matter?
"You smell like guilt. It walks with you. I can read your emotions, John Winchester. With the fear, lies mingled guilt. You carry it with you in your stance, you carry it with you in your dreams and your thoughts," said Castiel. "Tell me...Is this guilt stemmed from the fact that your son is here, rotting away with you...or is it because he will never forgive you?"
How do you know that? Carmen wanted to ask. He'd been cut off from Dean as long as she had. How could he know?
John didn't answer him. Just dropped Castiel's wrists and walked ahead of them, muttering something to one of his comrades and walking on. His voice was too low to catch, but more than likely an interrogation was waiting for all three of them wherever they were going.
Everyone remained mostly quiet.
Especially "John" Winchester. Carmen still couldn't believe it. Winchester was definitely Dean's last name, or what it would have been, had he lived a human life. And this man looked just like him. The subtle differences between them were a bit noticeable but not really. Castiel seemed to recognize him instantly. How?
"Can I-?" Carmen began, trying to ask the question out loud.
Castiel hushed her with a sharp look. "Not the time."
The tunnel they were going through seemed to stretch on forever. She couldn't even see the entrance to the cave that they had come in anymore. And yet it wasn't hard to guess that they were passing under several things. She would think they were going to another part of the desert, but they must have covered several miles already on foot underground.
It was another part of the region. They were passing under that desert. Further and further...She could even start feeling the wind after an hour. Yes, an hour passed without anyone saying anymore. As if that wasn't awkward. Because it was. Even Balthazar remained silent, walking ahead of her with a stony look on his face. She could only sympathize with him. Among all of them, he was the least deserving of being here. He was here for Castiel. And Castiel alone. Maybe Castiel was right and Balthazar was here to imprison him.
But how to imprison someone from a realm that was impossible to escape?
Oh, who cared? It wasn't her business anyway. She wanted to find Dean. The best bet, she guessed was following his...dad.
Jesus, that was hard to think about. She hadn't imagined there was someone beyond Lucifer. Beyond the prick that tortured him right in front of her eyes. To think he had someone else and they were right here. Did Dean know? Did Dean care? Did Dean know why he was here? Was Dean here?
"Are you taking us to Dean?" Carmen asked before she could help herself. Each distance they walked led her further from Sam. She could only pray and hope he said yes...because where there was Sam...she hoped there was Dean.
Castiel's look was so disapproving, burning a hole down at her, but she ignored him as the stranger ahead of them looked over his shoulder at her. His gaze was very piercing, which was another difference from Dean and himself. Dean would have never looked at her like that unless he was being cross with her. Her few physical experiences with him didn't warrant a look like that.
"No," John replied evenly. It was like he was testing out how much patience he could put in his voice without coming off too aggressive. "I'm taking you to our base. I told you, we have much to discuss. Your arrival here is a very large inconvenience."
"You know," Balthazar started, annoyed. "For once, I'd like to hear, 'Hello, you're here and its not a problem. In fact, we will adjust ourselves to make sure it is not an issue.' No. It's always, 'You arrived at the worst time.' Always an issue with the locals. "
"This isn't a picnic. It's hell," said John. "And if there's anything more suspicious then an angel, a fallen and a demon walking around like they're all best friends...then call me, because there's not. This is a condemned land."
"You call this walking around like we're best friends and I judge your standards," said Balthazar.
"You're not killing each other," said John. His voice was almost drowned out. Did Carmen just imagine it, or was there running water above them? And a fresh breeze? Steady but growing stronger. It wasn't cold or nice...it was hot. It didn't do much to help the atmosphere.
Then John stopped, and a domino effect of stopping occurred behind him. Maybe he didn't realize that he had that leader quality, that everyone's alert stance mirrored his. There was five humans...and Carmen was reminded of hunters in the mortal plain. She had spent enough time among them, seen their movements. They were killers...and she saw that mirrored here. Humans. Demons...Fallen all in one realm, then? Killing each other at all points?
There was a blank stretch of rock in front of John and used both hands to pull it aside as though it was a sliding door. A very noticeable breeze came through. She expected light...but it was dark now, and all she could see was tiny little lights in the distance as the humans walked ahead of them and Carmen had to cover her face to shield herself from it.
Torches. She saw indistinguishable faces looking down at them with burning hostility. Men, women...all dressed like military personnel like the ones who were escorting them. By the way they were eyeing them, John had brought them all a hoard of dangerous criminals. Which in human eyes, was not totally unsurprising. She didn't know how they were here. How her kind treated them, how Fallen treated them.
Behind them, trees. Lots of tall trees with gray and tan colored tents planted on the high branches. There were more sprawled on the ground and the largest one to the north that looked like you could just walk in and have twenty people fit inside comfortably. The rest of them looked small and were probably big enough for one individual at a time. She could see the night sky above them, blinking stars, and yet there was a faint...reddish tint to the clouds that made Carmen shudder. And a moon circled in crimson like it was on fire. She couldn't look at it long. It was like the sky was about to bleed.
John led them further inside. Mistrustful eyes were following them all the way and she could feel the eyes burning holes. Seriously, it was like being on Earth again. Not that she was ever at the mercy of the hunters. She wasn't that stupid. But now she was...and it really wasn't her fault. She was a stranger here. She didn't know the territory.
She thought they were going to his big tent. But they weren't. John stopped right in front of it where a large square patch of yellow grass was right in front of the entrance. He stopped right before stepping on it, then stepped aside to walk another edge of it until he was directly opposite them. One of his comrades came over and helped him push the "patch" aside and reveal what was below. A dungeon. Carmen had seen something like this before. It was identical to a room she had been in in St. Mary's hospital ten years ago. There were six rings in a circle and chains above each one. Dried blood stains were caked in the dirt. They had killed many beings here...Demon, angel or human. Who knew?
The rings weren't there for anything. Carmen knew flames would appear. She had watched Merrick and Lilith, Dean's guardians, die this way.
And there was no way in Hell she was going back in one of those.
Not like she had much of a choice though. Someone kicked the chain between herself and Balthazar and all three of them went tumbling down. It was excruciating. It'd be one, embarassing yet slightly cushiony prospect if she landed on the other two at least partially. But no. They each landed at a twisted angle with Castiel being the first to sit up. Dust and debris flew everywhere so she didn't catch when John jumped in after them, standing before like a dictator about to address his scrawny troops.
He looked like Dean then. Not just physically. It was that hard look in his eyes that Carmen had only seen once before. When he was telling her to run. It was the last time she had saw Dean, truly seen him, when he was alive. He had ordered her to run away and protect Sam while he went off...and died.
"Move away. Get back to work. I'll take it from here," said John, looking up from the hole. Reluctantly, the crowd began to disperse into different directions but not without casting furious looks their way. "There's no need to panic."
John placed his hands behind his back and walked a line in front of them. He looked up occasionally at one or the other, never lingering his gaze long on any one. But each time, it was a look of pure venom.
"What are your names?"
None of them answered him.
"Your names," John said more pointedly. He didn't hesitate to draw out his pistol this time. "I wouldn't cross me, any of you. You may have had your magic powers on earth...but here, you're about as powerful as we are. And these bullets will hurt."
When it was clear the boys weren't going to talk, Carmen sighed. "I'm Carmen. This is Castiel." She indicated him. "And that's Balthazar."
It didn't look like any of these names were familiar to John because he just eyed each one of them in that slow manner once more. Mistrustful...suspicious.
"These trenches were built long ago. Built to hold demon and human by the Fallen...They burnt and tortured our kind for centuries, left us here during the red eclipse," John indicated the sky. "They slaughtered many of us during the great war. These trenches run miles along the forest floor."
"And let me guess, you miraculously were saved," Castiel surmised. "Or wait, better yet...Someone grew a conscience and decided it was all wrong and ended your war."
John sliced his eyes on him. "No. The war wages between demon and Fallen as it always has. As it has for centuries. It's only come to a standstill because of the shadowcrawler."
"The what?" Carmen asked.
"Shadowcrawler. They are the demons of the abyss. No one knows their true origin. Every fifth night, they ran down from the red skies and pull the souls from the unwary and consume them," John explained. "Not seen again until another eclipse. History says that there was a being that was banished here that ripped the souls he came across apart and created the shadowcrawler. They called him Shadowalker. He's the only being in the realm that can use what your kind calls Will. But he's long since gone..They say the power he used to create these monsters is what caused them to turn on him and kill him...Part of him lives on in his children."
"Then how are they not attacking you?" Balthazar asked. "I saw these creatures in the sands. I saw a glimpse of what you speak...if they consume souls then how have you survived?"
"Because the shadowcrawler don't come to this side," John told him. "A human soul holds little value to them. They survive on the tainted soul of demon.." His gaze fell on Carmen. "It is not safe for you here."
"Huh, it's not safe for me anywhere," Carmen laughed sarcastically. "Why should the ninth circle of Hell be any different?"
" It's an abyss you can't escape. An endless torment. We never age...And blood darkens every corner of the night, whether it be the sound of crawler eating the flesh of demon. You have no idea what it is to be here. I've watched the eradication of every single demon that once walked this realm. And it's not just death. Death is merely the absence of presence from one realm into another. Destruction on this scale is..."
"Genocide," Balthazar finished quietly.
"This is a great bedtime story, John Winchester, " Castiel sneered. "But your 'endless torment' is keeping your life. But perhaps you can explain your involvement in further detail. Considering it takes betrayal to be in this realm at all. Balthazar here betrayed his orders by following me here. The demon betrayed the sovereign king, Crowley. But you...What did you betray?"
"I don't owe anyone an explanation for why I'm here," John answered irritably. "In fact, I should be asking you the same question. You three don't bare the mark of the ninth circle. You were not banished here. This realm has been sealed for centuries and then you three show up."
"Four," Balthazar corrected. "There's another with us. Another demon named Sam. We lost track of him."
"Four...if you believe. However, if your friend is another demon, then he's probably been taken by the shadows," said John. "How did you get here? The way in was sealed hundreds of years ago. The only way into Treachery is banishment."
"How arrogant of you to presume there is only one way into this circle," Castiel remarked icily. "There are many ways into this circle, John Winchester. And we found one. Now, let's cut to the chase, shall we? You only decided to bring us here, captive...when I mentioned your son's name. It froze you solid. Now, where is he?"
There was a long pause when John merely looked at Castiel, then he knelt down and became level with him, dropping his voice low. "What do you care? You're a Fallen."
"He doesn't care," Carmen interjected.
"You're asking," John pointed out.
"He's asking because he's a prick,"
"She's quite right," Castiel conceded. "I don't care. I'm gauging your reaction, John."
"And I am gauging yours," said John, not taking his eyes off Castiel. "What does it matter to you, a Fallen, the fate of a demon?"
"It doesn't. And yet your body language says different," Castiel noted. "Did he save your life, John? Did he free the souls from their imprisonment? Or did he die for them? It seems so like him...To do the right thing...as he would believe without regards for anyone else."
Carmen couldn't help but note there was a bitter edge to his tone.
"Don't speak of things you know nothing of. The dead do not suffer the comments of the living for long here. You'll learn that lesson the hard way, " said John, looking at Castiel with barely concealed contempt. "You seem to presume a lot about me, Castiel."
"My presumptions are usually correct," said Castiel.
"Well allow me to make an observation on yourself," said John, leaning closer. Brave. Inches away from a hostile Fallen and he didn't flinch. "You're here because you've fought to get here. No one comes into the ninth circle without reason. But you are correct in something. Every soul in here is guilty of betrayal in some form or another. Whether it be ideals..." His eyes lingered on Balthazar. Then Carmen. "Royalty...or the legion itself. You think I didn't know about that, did you? Every Fallen has it's story...and it starts with turning your back on your own men. But you. You came here willingly. You're not here without reason."
"What's your point, John Winchester?"
"You gauge my reaction on Dean. But look at you when I mention his name," John tilted his head, a victorious gesture, like a cat who had just caught a mouse in a trap. "You're in love with him, aren't you, Castiel?"
Both Balthazar and Carmen looked at him then. Castiel's jaw locked and his eyes tightened just a tiny bit. Yet he didn't flinch as he looked at John.
John continued ruthlessly. "Right. Look at that. Looking at you, I can tell you've been through quite an ordeal these last years...but it all boils down to something or another, doesn't it? It always does. I wouldn't make too many snide remarks on me, Castiel."
"Look can you just help us find Dean? You're right. It's been a long way," said Carmen. "And I really need to find Sam."
John pulled away and stood. His brisk, businesslike tone returned. "Your friend is dead. Wandering the sands alone at night is a high price. I'm sorry."
"How is being in here any different from being out there at night?" Balthazar asked. "You're going to keep us locked up here instead?"
"The shadowcrawler reign every five nights. This location is safe. We have night guard and enough weaponry that can hold off any invasion of any kind. No one can pass through here without invitation," said John.
"Never mind that," said Carmen impatiently. "I don't believe Sam's dead. I just fucking got him back. I need to find Sam and get the hell out of here."
"Like I said. This is the safest place for miles. The only other landmark on this side of the mountain is through the forest, to the white plains...," said John grimly. "If your friend is out there...He's either in the desert or he's there. And you don't want to venture into either territory for any reason."
"I have no intention of sitting here, waiting. I've come a very long way, you see...and you're not stopping me from getting where I want," said Castiel abruptly before Carmen could even process what John had said about the white plains. Castiel stood up and held his wrists out in front of him.
"The thing about a binding rune, John, is that it only works if the caster is stronger than the victim. That's the rule of Will," said Castiel, breaking the chains in one wrench and taking his fingernail to the rune on his wrist, cutting it down the middle until it bled down his palm.
Carmen and Balthazar stared at him in astonishment. But no one looked more shocked than John, falling back as though Castiel had struck him.
His eyes were wide and his mouth fell open. He breathed. "Your...wings...How are you...It's not possible. It's...not possible...You must be...You must be part of..him."
Castiel blinked but didn't say anything. He extended his wings which took the entirety of the little cage. Carmen and Balthazar backed up into different corners as he flapped them once, rising into the air. Carmen could hear the sudden intake of breath and shock from the human bystanders as they beheld the angel. Bleeding wings. It dripped into the trench like blood from the sky. He surveyed them all with menace before taking flight, soaring high until he became nothing more than a speck of black in the distance.
Sam dished it all out, to say the least. What he could remember. Some of it was still hazy. But he recounted for Dean what had happened to him in the last ten years. After Dean died, he had went on to live with his adopted parents, Estelle and Mark Costigan. He was treated with therapy for his trauma since the incident, but with no one to really believe him, he was stuck with silence. Castiel had left him. Carmen had been captured and possibly dead as far as he had known.
And then one day, he forgot it all. Sam knew now why. It was because of Castiel. Carmen had come to him in the midst of his amnesiac stage, claimed to have been watching out for him these past few years. He believed her...eventually, even though at some point, all the terms she had used were confusing.
Explaining the world in it's current state to someone who had been absent from it was the hardest part. From what he had come to understand, Manhattan was a slowly rebuilding ruin, haunted with the memories of it's deceased residents. He didn't know much beyond that. The state of Hell's first circle where Dean had once ruled. The state of Heaven after Michael's death. He didn't know.
Dean remained silent for most of it, having a chair next to Sam's bed, listening with his hands interlocked and his mouth covered. But when Sam finally got to the part he dreaded speaking of, Dean finally moved. Castiel. His eyes became tight and his jaw locked. But he never spoke while Sam explained...hesitantly, in a quiet voice as if that could make the impact smaller. What could he say? Despite everything, he wasn't mad at Castiel. He couldn't be. Maybe it was because he was still his demon no matter what. In his mind, Castiel did what he had to do.
When he got to the part about Castiel slitting his throat and his blackout after, Dean stood up from his chair and turned his back on Sam, hiding an expression he didn't want Sam to see.
So focused on Dean's reaction that Sam barely registered when Lilith came and approached Dean. "So he's Castiel's demon. That explains a lot."
"That explains little," Dean bit back sharply, turning to her. " Focus, darling. I sealed that portal with the last of my power before falling. It should not have been opened. I can't believe Carmen..."
"Don't blame her," said Lilith smoothly. "More than likely...her hand was forced. If I know anything about you, then I daresay, she fought her hardest to keep the portal from opening...despite what she may have felt."
"Not hard enough," said Dean, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm merely telling you by the boy's story...it seems like your child was the only one who actually did something you wanted them to do," said Lilith, indicating Sam. "Keep him safe."
"She failed," said Dean pointedly. "He's here. He's a fucking demon. He was turned."
"And she was never formally trained by you," said Lilith. "The fact that she managed this for the last ten years is an incredible feat. Not to mention, she must have been captured by Crowley." Lilith crossed her arms. "Speaking of which, your old Guardian seems to be having the time of his life on your throne, topside."
"He's not my Guardian," Dean replied shortly. But he relaxed his shoulders somewhat. "But that doesn't change that the portal was opened...And it shouldn't have been."
"I can only imagine one incentive for someone to go to such measures," Lilith crossed her arms, shifted her body to the side and eyed Dean with a look that said, What else could it be?
Sam could only guess the train of thought as he surveyed Dean's scowl. He spoke up then. "Dean, I know what you're thinking. It's not Cas's fault. He's not...He's just not himself."
Dean's face was hard to read. If his words had any effect on Dean whatsoever, Sam couldn't tell. It was like they bounced back at him. " That's not relevant."
"But it is," Sam persisted. He felt almost ashamed to say it, but not really. "Can I see him, Dean? Can we go and see him? I know he wants to see you too. Trust me. He wouldn't have done all of this...I really don't think so...if not for you."
"He killed you, Sam," Dean looked like he was questioning Sam's sanity. "You do realize that, don't you? He killed you. He took your life. He took you away from a happy life so you could...So..." Dean seemed unable to find the words. He ran a hand through his hair and gripped the strands tightly as though he wanted to rip them out. But Sam noted something on his wrist he had never seen before. A marking. "IX" is what it said. Nine in Roman Numerals. That must have been what those people were saying in the desert when they called him unmarked.
"Dean...Why do you think this happened?" Sam raised an eyebrow. He stood up then, and for some reason the moved seemed much more impressive and he blessed his height over Dean in that moment. "It's always been for you. Wouldn't you do the exact same thing for us?"
"I'm not worth all that, Sam," said Dean quietly. "And I never wanted this for you. Not for one moment. If it was up to me, I'd have made you..."
"You'd have made me what?" Sam leaned down, following Dean's movement as he looked away. "Forget? Forget you? Forget Cas? People have been screwing with my head since day one, Dean. And you know what? I'm tired of it. Maybe the fact of the matter was that I probably would have picked up a weapon one day and came to find you myself."
"Like fuck, you would have," Dean paused again, exhaling. "You don't belong here, Sam. You belong home."
"And what does going home mean, Dean? I'm not a little kid anymore. You can't just pat my head and tell me it's going to be all right. It's not all right. It's never all right. Look at this mess, man," said Sam, gesturing all around them. "Look at me. Look at Cas. Really. When you see him. I couldn't see it before because I couldn't remember. But he's broken. We all are. Without you, we're broken."
Lilith eyed Sam like he was doing exactly what she expected. "Parental bonds...I love seeing them at work. It makes me all warm inside."
Dean looked at Sam in a hard sort of way, as if he was measuring a drastic decision. It was Lilith he answered in a voice of determined calm. " You're already warm inside, love. You don't need me to remind you of that."
"But you know he's not going to rest until you let him see Castiel. You know the feeling," Lilith told him. "All this defending comes from the fact that he sired him."
"No," Sam looked at her crossly. "He's my friend. I care about him."
"Entertain what delusions you must," Lilith answered sagely. "I'm too old to argue with the newest batch of demon in any form. You are sired to that Fallen and you will defend him to your last breath, no matter what we say. Few...very few of us...have managed to disregard our makers. And since you are still new, you are still bound."
"Maybe you just don't understand friendship like I do. Castiel was there to watch out for me when I was a kid. And all he's ever done is watch out for me since," said Sam scathingly.
"Friends don't turn friends into demons," said Lilith.
"Enough, Lilith," Dean commanded. His authoritative tone brokered no argument. But again was that speculative look. It was like he was weighing his options and something or another won out. "She's right, though. I can't keep you away from him. It would be a cruel act to do so. I have to get you to him. I have to..."
"You have to talk to him," Lilith finished. "Maybe get an explanation?"
"I don't need a goddamn explanation. I've spent the last thousand years watching my kind get ripped to shreds by those fucking bastards outside my doorstep. There is much more at hand," Dean growled angrily. He glowered at the doorway for the longest moment before speaking again. "Where the hell is Merrick?"
"Maybe he got lost," Lilith suggested.
"Merrick was with me," said Sam abruptly. Both of them turned to stare at him. "He was. He was the one who was going to lead me here. But he...There was...I don't know what they were. They came and attacked us."
"What did they look like?" Dean approached and took Sam's shoulder in a tight grip. Much tighter than before. He probably could have dislocated it if Sam wasn't on par with him. "Were they black? Did you see their faces?"
Now, Sam knew who Dean actually meant. He must have meant those figures that had crowded Sam in a sand hole. He didn't have a name for them, and he didn't have a good way to explain that they didn't really attack him...Made him fall sure...but what they did while he was in there was strange...and somehow he had a feeling that speaking it out loud would garner no good result.
"They were dressed in white...One was a guy with blonde hair...another was a chick with red hair," said Sam.
"Goddammit," Dean released him and turned around, touching his lower lip. "Fucking Fallen. Never making my life easier."
"Technically, you're dead,"
"Thank you, Lilith. Always saying what people don't want to say," said Dean sarcastically. "Listen if Merrick is taken...then.."
"They're drawing you out, your majesty. He won't kill Merrick until your eyes are glued to the scene, watching him die," Lilith answered. "I understand your attachment to him...but you know we can't venture out...Not now."
Sam stared between them, wondering who the missing "He" was but none of them deigned to explain.
Dean pursed his lips in thought and rubbed his temple in thought. "I'm not leaving Merrick behind."
"Your Majesty-" Lilith began, exasperated.
"I watched Merrick die once...I refuse to do it again. If he means to use him as bait...then so be it," said Dean, walking out of the room. Lilith followed him and so did Sam, close behind. It was a long, very dark hallway, with the walls made out of the same rock that Sam's room was built upon. This whole place must have been inside that mountain that Sam had seen before. Dean's pace was fast, difficult to keep up with. He entered another dark room for all of two seconds, pulling out a black leather jacket...the same one Sam had always seen him in youth. He pulled it on with the collars turned up.
"I implore you not to do this," Lilith begged. "This is a trap. The white plains are dangerous. There are over five hundred Fallen there. Most of them put in here by you. You can't do this...It's suicide. You know it. I know it. Even the boy probably knows it."
"I don't give a damn,"
"Dean, I'm coming with you," said Sam.
That stopped him. He turned and looked at Sam with a tired sort of look. "Sam. I need you to stay here with Lilith."
"Who says I'm not going?" said Lilith, affronted.
"You're going to protect him, Lily. There's three of us here. You honestly think I'm going to leave the mountain unguarded?"
"The only reason this valley hasn't been completely obliterated is because you're here," Lilith hissed. "They fear you. What if this is feeding right into their hands? You leave the mountain and they come for us? Come for Sam? Kill us both?"
"Not if I meet them in battle first," said Dean, adjusting his collar to face down. Noticeably, his sword was absent. Dean was never seen without his weapon...and now he was talking about walking right into a nest of Fallen. Without a weapon. Of course Sam knew that Carmen had it. And while there was a block preventing him from mentally reaching out to Castiel, shouldn't Dean have been an exception with Carmen?
"I don't need protection," said Sam irritably. "We can get out of here now, Dean. Carmen opened the dimensional door. Doesn't it mean it's still open?"
"Carmen was never crowned. She was never considered royalty despite our...connection," Dean rounded off another corner and Sam saw a huge wall almost fifty feet tall. It took him a moment to realize this was another cave door just massive in size.
"She may have opened the dimensional door for a minute at most, but it looks like that was enough time," Dean eyed Sam distastefully. "for people to come in...but more than likely the door has since closed behind. She doesn't...or shouldn't have the power to keep a portal of that magnitude open."
So much for going home.
"So we're stuck here," said Sam. He was never going to see Jess again.
"For now," said Dean.
"Forever," corrected Lilith.
"Shut up, Lilith," Dean snapped.
"No, she's right," Sam defended her. "Do you have a plan to get us out?"
"Not a one at the moment, but I firmly believe in one thing at a time. You try focusing on every problem you have, you'll probably explode," said Dean. "Now. Stay with Lilith."
"Dean, please," Sam pleaded. "Let me go with you. I can help you."
"No, you can't. You really can't," Dean replied. Maybe he didn't understand that that hurt. His parents had died. He was torn away from Jess and everything he had believed in for the last decade. It was a cold thing to be shunned by the one person who you wanted to see more than anyone else. Dean seemed to realize he hurt Sam, because he turned around and sighed, taking Sam by the shoulder, fingers splayed on Sam's neck.
"It's nothing personal, Sammy," Dean assured him. "It's for your protection. You have to trust me. Trust my judgement if nothing else. I know what you want to do...but this realm...It's not what it seems, all right? It's not your realm. It's not your rules to break."
"Dean," Sam shook his head. "I just...I just met you again. I don't want to lose you."
"You won't lose me again," said Dean, tightening his hold on Sam's shoulder. "I promise."
"This is suicide," Lilith repeated, reluctant. "Forget this damn haven. Let me go with you. I am promised to guard you with my life. I refuse to sit back while you play hero. Not even for Merrick. We knew what were getting into, following you, swearing to you."
Dean locked eyes with Lilith, shifted his weight towards her. "As your King, I command-"
"Don't you fucking command me," Lilith snapped. "Don't you-"
"I command you to obey my order. Guard the boy," Dean finished in one quick breath before she could interrupt him again. Lilith clenched her teeth, opening her mouth in a crude retort and closing it as Dean's order gripped her and she bowed her head in compliance.
Sam stepped back. He knew a losing battle when he saw one. There was no convincing Dean of anything after he had decided anything. It was one of his worst habits. "Bring Cas back. Your voice can still reach him, I know it can."
Dean managed a faint smile. But he said nothing. He just turned back towards the door as Lilith pulled Sam back towards the cave halls. When they were fittingly immersed in the darkness, Dean waved a hand aside and the cave door opened. Dean was faced with the same darkness except in greater density...but he knew the empty night and the deserted sands were not going to remain quiet for long.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped outside.
What a drastic change.
The ninth circle was famous for several things. Being an abyss of lost souls was one of them. There was no order here, there never was. Order was such a cliche. Why have order? It was still Hell. It was deepest, darkest pit and it was built that way for a reason. It was the one circle of Hell that no one, demon, human or Fallen could escape.
And yet the place still lived up to its reputation. In no small part due to the shadowcrawler. Demons of the abyss they called them, but they were not demons. They were so much more than demons. Demons were parasites that fed off the light of angels to sustain themselves as though it was the fat of the land. Shadowcrawler destroyed demons as easily as they breathed. Demons were the prey
It was not the same way as it had been ..and Dante had been here before. Ten years was not sufficient time to forget his time in the ninth circle. The wound in his stomach had long since closed. This realm empowered him in more ways than one and the minuscule burst of temper from a baby demon could not hinder him for long.
They called these lands he walked the white plains because it was so cold the frost turned the grass, the dirt, white. It was a constant blizzard in the white plains and most landmarks, if there ever had been any were long since covered.
One thing to know about the Ninth Circle was that these landmarks were not always there. A thousand years had passed in the ninth circle, where only ten passed topside. That was enough for some free reign. For these petty wars between Fallen and demon to run strong. But there was no room for war when the number of shadowcrawler outweighed demon now...when all demons would be finished off.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. He wasn't being subtle about his appearance here. He wanted them to know. His boots made noise with every step he took over iced grass and he knew it wouldn't be long. But the structure that Dante was approaching towered over him. A castle, similar enough to the one found in the first circle, Pride. The king's old dwelling, built by the Fallen to accommodate only one being.
The massive silver and black designed front doors opened. He noted the designs on the high pillars. Sigils of various of Fallen, marks of the first eight circles. He expected some warmth on the interior but naturally cold-blooded he wasn't too surprised when a frosty breeze touched his face and he stepped inside.
It was dark inside, but he didn't have to see to know that they were there. Dean's all star team, most killed and thrown down here by Dean himself. No wonder they wanted him dead. Tainted...Disgusting. With tainted Grace was provided no sustenance to shadowcrawler. Hundreds upon hundreds of Fallen were watching his every move, whispering among themselves. But the most prominent question was of his presence at all.
Dante had eyes for only one. Lucifer had fashioned a throne fit for a King against the far wall made of silver and gold. He passed the tall stone pillars with banisters bearing a black coat of arms with two dark wings bleeding into a puddle.
And the King himself tracked Dante with cold blue eyes, balancing a glass of wine in his palm as Dante approached. He looked exactly the same as he had when he had died. A white suit, torn in several places, smudged with dirt and blood.
Still the most beautiful angel in all of creation.
His voice held power even now. "If it isn't the prodigal son, himself...Welcome back to the ninth circle, Dante Shadowalker. It's been a long time."