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dauntperplexityAuthor: dauntperplexity
Rating: PG 13
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Uriel, Alastair (no pairing)
Spoilers: everything up to 4.10
Warnings: Some violence.
Summary: In the outermost ring of Hell, he could still hear the screams of Alastair. He knew that this fight wasn’t over.
Disclaimer: I own nothing from this story except the idea behind the story. There are angels in this story that everyone should know about and if not, could easily look up. I’m using the concepts of circles in Hell, like Dante’s Inferno, but not so specific. And I did some weird math, so according to it 1 year in Hell was almost 3 days on Earth, so do what you want with that information. In this story there are flashbacks, a dream sequence, and present time.
Author’s Note: Okay, so I was going to write a story with Castiel recalling pulling Dean out of Hell and another story for the end of Heaven and Hell. But, I decided to just combine the stories. Not because I’m lazy, but because it made sense the way that they fit together in my head. Okay, in this story, Dean doesn’t remember Castiel rescuing him from Hell. That is the impression that I get from the show, and I needed to write this story.
Italic is flashback
Castiel landed in the center of Hell, all eyes of its occupants turning to stare at him. The staring didn’t last very long, because although he was injured and tired, his light was still blinding. His wings and back were still healing from being torn apart from the flogging he had to take just to enter each circle of Hell unharmed. He needed to take sixty-six lashes to the back. And he did. All nine times, each time taking longer than the previous to heal. His back still stung even though it had taken him years to reach the center. “Oh, look an angel,” a demon said. “Gracing us with some light from above,” it mocked.
“I am looking for Dean Winchester,” Castiel announced.
“We don’t know who you speak of, angel,” another one of the demons said, walking toward him.
Dean had to be in the center of Hell. Castiel walked through every circle searching, and this was the last place. “I didn’t expect the truth from any of you.”
“And if we did know who he was,” the demon continued, “we don’t think you would want to see him in the condition he is in.” The demon walked behind Castiel and leaned over. He put his face right next to Castiel’s ear. “You wouldn’t want to touch something so filthy.”
Quicker than the demon had time to react, Castiel reached behind him, plucking a feather from his wing, and pushed the demon to the nearest rock wall. Castiel flapped his wings and was in front of the demon before he had time to recover. He held his sword that was a feather a second ago to the demon’s neck. “Tell me where he is, or I will kill you.”
“No,” the demon said with a smile.
Castiel pushed the sword forward, the blade biting into the man’s neck. Black smoke seeped out of the wound. “You tell me where he is, or I behead you and you have to start from the outermost circle of Hell. How long do you think it will take you to get to the center again?” Castiel threatened. He knew of the hierarchy of Hell. It was corrupt and convoluted, but he didn’t expect anything less from these beings.
The demon’s eyes widened, the threat becoming more real as he felt the pressure of the blade biting into his neck increase. “You hear those screams,” he said, his eyes shifting and looking off into the distance. Castiel could hear the shrieks and he winced at the sound of them. “Follow them, and you’ll find your Dean Winchester.”
Castiel pulled his sword back, and relief washed over the demon. He swung his sword and demon’s eyes bulged from his face before the sword hit. The sword embedded itself into the rock behind the demon at the same level his neck was. Castiel let go of the sword and it floated to the floor in the form of a feather. He faced the other demons that threatened to get in the way of fulfilling his mission. “I am not here for you, but I will do what I need to get to him. If you stand in my way, I will lay you to waste.”
The demons parted, not wanting to get into a fight that they had little chance of winning, even in their own territory.
Castiel resorted to walking, as using his wings expended a lot of his energy. He knew that he would need it. He knew that getting Dean Winchester back would not be easy. As he walked toward the screams, larger demons jumped on him, but in a quick push, they were off and injured. But he continued to walk, his injuries piling up with each demon that attacked.
The angel sighed, the heat rose the closer he got to the screams. He’d never been that deep in Hell before, and it was getting darker the further he traveled.
Then finally he heard a scream that sounded at if the person was standing right next to him. He saw souls chained up to a rack, getting torn to pieces. He stepped back, horrified. He wondered who could do that to another being. He wanted to see the demon who could be so cruel.
What he saw was a person standing on the ground with a whip in his hand. It was a human. He was the cause of the screams, but he had scars of his own on his body. And he still had light in him.
He had found him. “Dean Winchester,” Castiel said, his chest heaving and hurting from what had happened to him, but more from what he had found.
Dean dropped the lash he was holding and turned to the thing that said his name. He saw just a bright light in the distance. “Who are you?” Dean asked.
“I am Castiel,” he stated.
“What are you?” Dean asked.
“I’m an angel of the Lord. I’m here to bring you back to where you belong.” Castiel walked toward Dean, his hand held out to him.
“Don’t you touch him, Dean,” a demon said behind him. “Can’t you see that it’s all a trick?”
Dean and Castiel turned to look at the demon who had said that. The demon stood up from where he was seated and cockily sauntered over to them. “This is no trick, Dean. I promise you. I am here to raise you. Have faith.”
“Faith?” the demon said. “You think that this broken human has any semblance of faith?” The demon laughed at Castiel’s optimism. “He has no hope. He has nothing.”
“Do not say that about him,” Castiel said. He refused to believe that there was nothing left of this human in front of him. “Dean, just take my hand and I will carry you out of here,” Castiel said, holding his hand out to the human.
“This is a trick,” Dean said, backing away from the bright light.
“I promise you. This is not a trick,” Castiel said.
“Why?” Dean asked, his voice cracked. “Why me? I deserve Hell.”
“I will answer all of your questions in time, Dean. But we need to get out of here.”
“I do not think so, angel,” the demon hissed. He grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled the human behind him. “The boy belongs to me.”
“You do not hold his contract,” Castiel said, his voice low and foreboding.
“But he works for me,” the demon replied, not relinquishing his hold on Dean.
“Alastair,” Castiel growled in realization.
“And now, I wonder, why would they send you to do a job as big as this?” Alastair laughed. “They send a kid. You are not strong enough to raise him from the center of Hell.”
“I am more than capable of raising him.”
“He belongs down here!” Alastair yelled.
“He isn’t yours, Alastair!” Castiel countered.
“I know that, angel, but what are you going to do about it?” Alastair let go of Dean and sauntered over to the angel.
Castiel reached behind him and grabbed a feather from his wing. A second later the feather morphed into a sword. “What I need to do.” And he meant it.
Alastair held his hand out and one of his demons put a sword in his hand. “You don’t want to do that, angel. You are outnumbered here.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
Alastair turned his sword and lunged toward Castiel. Castiel beat his wings and quickly moved out of the way. Castiel then turned to charge at Alastair. He swung his sword at him, but Alastair used his own to block the attack. “Please don’t tell me that is all you have,” Alastair taunted.
Alastair pushed his sword and Castiel jumped back to avoid any type of attack from the demon. He wasn’t looking where he was flying and he landed in the middle of a group of demons. They grabbed onto him and tried to drag him onto the rack. A few of them grabbed onto his wings to make sure he couldn’t fly away. Castiel felt every new scratch and bruise, and he felt every feather that was torn from his wings.
He spread his wings and in one powerful beat, he prepared to take to the sky. The demons let go of him, not sure what the angel was going to do next. Castiel jumped up, and a flap of his wings stirred the dirt around Alastair. “Come down here, angel.”
Castiel touched back down on the ground. Alastair threw a small knife at the angel, which Castiel easily dodged. But that was only the distraction because Alastair came running and swinging his sword at Castiel. Castiel didn’t come out of that exchange unscathed. He flew back and fell to one knee. He put a hand to his torso, and felt a gash that went right across it. He bit his lip from crying out it pain. The wound was deep and it burned like the place they were in.
When he looked up, he saw Alastair right in front of him, his sword ready. Alastair lifted him easily with one hand. He raised his sword to Castiel’s neck and ran him into a rock wall. “I told you, that he belongs down here.” Castiel’s eyes widened, in fear. He didn’t know how he was going to get out of the position he was in. “Just surrender, angel.”
“Never,” Castiel said, he could feel his light leaking through the slash on his torso. He still fought, but the odds didn’t look in his favor. Then he turned and saw Dean standing off to the side, his eyes wide. Castiel knew then that he had to keep going. The boy would not last any longer in Hell.
“How do you plan to get yourself out of this predicament?” Alastair hissed, pulling Castiel’s attention back to the fight.
Castiel stayed silent for a moment, considering his options, which weren’t many. “Like this,” he said. He stretched out his wings to its full wingspan. He beat his wings once, their size generating a gust that blew Alastair back and caused him to drop his sword.
At an instant, Castiel produced another sword and flew to the fallen demon. He straddled the demon, lifting his sword above his head and thrusting down. The sword went right through Alastair’s torso and into the ground below. Castiel stood up leaving the sword embedded in Alastair and walked over to Dean who was standing off to the side.
Castiel walked over to him, ready to be out of the horrid place. He held his hand out to Dean once more. “Dean, take my hand,” Castiel said. “We must not linger here any longer.” Dean stared at the hand, unsure of what to do. “Dean, we must leave.”
“I have to stay.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You see those souls,” Dean said pointing to the countless souls on a rack. “I put them there. I did that to them. Me! An angel cannot save someone like that.”
Castiel could see how Hell affected the boy. He could see the torment and guilt in his eyes. But he didn’t blame Dean as Dean blamed himself. He saw the darkness and pain in Hell that would affect anyone. It was beginning to affect him too, but he wouldn’t say anything about it. This mission wasn’t about his pain, it was about Dean’s pain. “But I’m here.”
“I’m no better than those demons that you’re fighting.”
“You are, Dean,” Castiel said. “You are so much better.”
“I deserve Hell. I deserve to be here. Just leave me before you’re stuck down here too.”
“You haven’t done anything to deserve this place. You deserve to be saved. God said so,” Castiel said. “You are good, Dean. I promise you. Now come with me. Your brother needs you.”
Castiel saw the look on Dean’s face. There was a recognition of something that Dean could latch onto and make him want to get out of Hell. Castiel was glad that he was able to reach him. “Sam?” Dean remembered his brother.
“Dean, just take my hand.”
Dean stared at Castiel’s hand once again. He reached to grab it. Everything in him told him that Castiel was good. He trusted the angel after everything he had just witnessed and after everything the angel had said. He was the nicest and most compassionate being that Dean had come across in Hell. He just hoped that he wasn’t going insane and his mind was playing tricks on him. Then Dean’s eyes went wide. “Behind you!” he yelled.
Castiel turned around just in time to see the end of a whip come at him. He didn’t have enough time to react so the whip met its target and wrapped around his neck. He felt a strong jerk and he fell to the ground. The whip around his neck tightened and he felt himself get dragged across the floor. When he stopped, he was at the feet of three large demons.
The forced him to his feet and the whip fell from his neck. “Alastair said the boys stays down here,” one of the demons said. He lifted his fist, ready to punch the angel. Castiel took a step back to get out of the way, but found himself trapped by the large bodies. “Alastair wants us to put you on the rack.”
The demon punched him in the torso, then in the face. Castiel fell to his knees, clutching his abdomen. The demon looked at his hand when Castiel’s light leaked onto it. He screamed as it burned him. The demons opened their circle, wondering how the angel could hurt them without lifting a finger.
“Castiel!” someone yelled. Castiel winced at his name on the demon’s tongue. Castiel’s eyes trailed up to the voice. He saw that Alastair had dislodged himself from the sword. Alastair ran up to Castiel carrying him to make their faces meet. “This isn’t over,” he hissed, black smoke flowing from his wound.
“It is,” Castiel groaned having to stretch his torso.
Castiel kicked Alastair in the leg, causing the demon to relinquish his hold. Castiel punched Alastair in the face and laid his palm on the demon’s forehead. He said a silent prayer for him. The demon weakened and fell to his knees. Castiel stopped before he used all of his energy to put the demon to sleep and he wouldn’t have enough to get him and Dean out of Hell. He lifted his hand from Alastair and the demon fell to his side, convulsing. Castiel ran his hand over the wound on his torso and made the Sign of the Cross on Alastair’s forehead. That would hold him off for some time.
Castiel walked over to Dean, glaring at every demon that tried to get in the way. He was tired, but he needed to finish what he started. Dean fell to his knees before the angel reached him.
Just being around the angel comforted Dean and made him want to fall asleep. But he was afraid. He was afraid that if he went to sleep and woke up to find out that it was all a dream, he would lose all hope. As small as it was after all this time, he would lose the last bit of hope that he grasped onto that kept him human.
Castiel fell to one knee to be at Dean’s eye level. “You know that I would never let any harm come to you,” Castiel replied as if he read Dean’s mind. “Not under my watch.”
“I know,” Dean replied. Castiel nodded, glad that the human trusted him enough.
Castiel’s light and grace were so strong that when the angel laid his hand on his shoulder, Dean fell to sleep. The place where Castiel first made contact with the broken soul burned, leaving a faint impression of his hand on his shoulder. Castiel caught Dean before he hit the dirt.
As soon as Dean was in his arms, he stood up and stretched his wings wide, ignoring the pain he felt when he did. He beat his wings and flew straight up, not needing to go through every circle of Hell to leave. Castiel pulled Dean as far he could. He needed to get them out of Hell’s reach and if he had to fight demons clawing at him with the man in his arms, he was determined to do so. In the outermost ring of Hell, he could still hear the screams of Alastair. He knew that this fight wasn’t over.
The pain he felt faded to a dull ache the further he was from the center of Hell. He was weak, and he knew it, but he knew that he needed to keep going if he wanted to get the person in his grasp and himself out of Hell. The greater good depended on if he was strong enough to get them out.
As he held Dean, he caught glimpses of the human’s life that he could only get through contact. He saw glimpses of Dean’s life and afterlife. Through all the pain and torment in him, the brightest thing was his soul and more so, his heart. Nobody deserved Hell with a heart that pure. He saw his fear, his need, his loyalty, and his love. Castiel felt himself comforted by it but more, he felt himself forming a connection with the human in his arms.
As long as it took him to get into Hell, it took him half as long to fly them out. Castiel flew, the soul in his arms leading him to where he needed to go. After what felt like years later, he reached his destination. He found Dean’s body in a box underground. Castiel observed the wounds on the body and on his soul and decided that he was going to have to heal the decaying body before he replaced the soul. As he was about to put the soul back into the body, he felt a pull and felt himself lift to the surface above Dean’s grave. “Castiel?”
“Gabriel,” Castiel replied, looking up to the silhouette standing above him. Castiel looked down and saw that he still had Dean’s soul in his grasp.
“Come, brother,” Gabriel held his hand out to him. “We need to get you well. You’ve been in Hell for too long.”
“How long?”
“Dean Winchester has been dead on this plane for four months.”
“I took too long,” Castiel whispered. “They broke him.”
Gabriel felt the torment in his brother. He felt Castiel take the responsibility and burden of Dean Winchester upon himself. “You’re too close to this boy already, Castiel,” Gabriel said.
“I need to pull his body from the grave,” Castiel said, ignoring the archangel. He let go of the soul and it sank into the ground. Castiel’s hand disappeared into the ground to grab it again.
“You did well, brother,” Gabriel said, putting his hand on Castiel’s shoulder to stop him. “You pulled him from Hell, that is enough. You completed your mission.”
“He isn’t awake yet.”
“You have to give him time, Castiel.”
“I have to heal him.”
“You need to heal yourself first,” Gabriel said, looking over Castiel. He took account of all the injuries on his brother. And if he were to heal Dean the way that he wanted to, there would only be an addition of injuries.
“Let me heal him first,” Castiel said. “I do not want him in darkness any longer.”
Gabriel looked down at Castiel. “You aren’t strong enough, brother.” He reached down and grabbed Castiel by the arm and lifted him up.
“It is my mission, Gabriel.”
“Your mission was to raise him, and you did. Castiel, you do not have the strength. You can’t heal him.”
“I have to try.”
Gabriel threw his hand up in defeat. He knew that there was no reasoning with him. He let go of Castiel and he fell to the ground. “I will pull you out if I think that you are too weak.”
Castiel nodded, then he slowly sank into the ground. He returned to Dean’s grave and saw his soul floating, and still sleeping, above his body. Castiel leaned over and put a hand on Dean’s left shoulder. Dean would come back into the world like a baby in an adult body, unharmed, pure, and innocent. He used some of his remaining strength to restore the body. He watched as the body filled out before his eyes. Meat was put back his bones, his skin wasn’t stretched and hardened over his bones, and the body wasn’t pale anymore.
When he was finished with that, the body looked more like a person and less like a corpse. He then grabbed the soul by the wrist and led it to the body. He was at the point of collapse, but he knew he wasn’t done yet. He had to finish healing the body and all of its physical scars. Dean had more than any human ever should. Bullet wounds, stab wounds, gashes, burns. Each wound that he healed from Dean’s body transferred onto his own. All of the wounds, from before his death and even during his time in Hell. But healing Dean’s injuries meant adding to the injuries that Castiel suffered in Hell.
But Hell would just be a memory for Dean soon. Castiel healed Dean’s physical wounds and he lifted his hand to break the contact. He needed to take a break before he started to heal the mental scars of Hell.
He could only work at erasing his memories from what had happened most recently then working backward from there. Castiel didn’t want Dean to have any memories of Hell. So he started with the rescue and him getting carried out of Hell. He needed to erase himself. He would’ve rather Dean remembered him, so when they met he’d know a connection that they had, but he couldn’t be selfish. He trusted him once, he would do it again.
When he was done erasing his rescue from Dean’s memory, he began with his confrontation with Alastair. He wanted to forget it too. He wanted to forget his weakness at that point, and the tinge of fear he felt that he wasn’t going be strong enough to get both of them out. Those memories took more effort to erase because they affected him and were tied to his emotions too. Then those memories were erased for one of them.
Castiel got to Dean’s memories right before he reached the center of Hell. Right before Dean was saved. Right before Dean saw any form of light and good in a place of darkness. He saw Dean turn to face the brightness. Then their connection broke. And he was above ground, right on top of Dean’s grave. “No!” he yelled. “I need to finish.”
“You will take yourself out of this fight if you do,” Gabriel said, fighting to keep Castiel above the ground.
“He is going to remember all of Hell. He’s going to remember,” Castiel cried. “And he isn’t awake yet.”
“You’re too weak to do anything about that right now.” Castiel’s body crumpled in his arms, his wings flopping around them. “Castiel?” Gabriel said, shaking him. He received no response. “Castiel!” he yelled more urgently. “Raphael!” He fell to his knees, resting Castiel across his lap.
A second later, Raphael and Michael appeared, stirring the air around them. “What happened?” Michael asked.
“Raphael, heal him.”
Raphael bent down and put his hands on Castiel’s body. There were so many wounds and he didn’t know where to begin healing. There were wounds from his fight with demons as he traveled into Hell and from his final fight with Alastair. But there were also wounds on his body from the transference of Dean’s wounds onto himself. Raphael closed his eyes after observing all the wounds he would have to heal. He began with the smaller wounds. “Dei gratia. Deo adiuvante. Calei enarrant gloriam Dei,” Raphael began.
Michael stood and watched as the two angels sat huddled around their brother. Gabriel looked up from Castiel for a moment to look at Michael. “Where is Uriel?” Gabriel asked.
“We told him to stay,” Michael replied.
“Why?”
“We didn’t think he would react well to Castiel’s condition. You know how much he disagreed with this.”
“I agree.”
“But he is watching us right now and waiting until we need his help.”
Michael stepped closer to his brothers to see if he could do anything to help. Most of Castiel’s smaller wounds were healed, only a few remained, and those were what Raphael was working on at the moment.
The three archangels stayed like that until there was only one wound left. The cut that went across Castiel’s torso from a blade forged in Hell. It was doing the most damage to Castiel. Raphael inhaled deeply before he laid his hands on the wound. “Dei gratia. Deo adiuvante. Calei enarrant gloriam Dei,” he said again.
Castiel’s eyes shot open and his back arched against the ground and Gabriel’s lap. Tears of pain fell from his eyes. Raphael pressed down on wound unconsciously when he saw his brother’s eyes open. Castiel screamed as loud as he could, sending a burst of power from him, knocking down and blowing away everything around them. It looked like a disaster zone, like an explosion went off.
But three angels stayed in their original positions as if the blast didn’t affect them at all. When the screaming died down, Castiel collapsed in Gabriel’s arms once again. Instead of shaking him, Gabriel leaned over, putting his forehead to Castiel’s. He started to whisper a prayer of his own. “How is he?”
The three archangels looked up and saw the final archangel standing a few feet away from them. “Weak,” Raphael said. “I can’t heal him down here.”
“We must get him back to Heaven,” Uriel said. “Father wants him healed.”
“Why?” Gabriel asked.
“There are new orders for him,” Uriel said.
“Which are?” Michael asked.
“Father wants him to lead Dean Winchester,” Uriel spat. “Father wants him to be well enough by the time Dean Winchester wakes up.”
“That is in a few days,” Gabriel said.
“That isn’t long enough,” Raphael said.
Uriel bent down and picked up Castiel as if he weighed nothing more than the feathers of his wings. “I told you this wasn’t a good idea,” Uriel said. He stood up, flapped his wings, and in an instant was nothing more than a speck in the sky.
The remaining three archangels shook their heads. They spread their wings and followed their brother. They needed to get back and heal Castiel. They needed to prepare him to be able to carry out his command. With a flap of their wings, the three of them headed back toward Heaven.
LRLRLRLRLRLRLRLR
Dean stood in front of Castiel, snapping his fingers in front of the angel’s face. He had been doing it sporadically for the past hour. It unnerved Dean that Castiel was just lying there staring into nothingness. Then he saw the angel blink. “Cas,” Dean said, snapping again. “Castiel!”
Castiel blinked and slowly sat up. “What happened?”
“I was just going to ask you the same thing. You weren’t moving for a good hour. I wasn’t sure if you were all right or not.”
Castiel ran his hands down his face and rested his elbows on his lap. His hands weaved together and he rested his chin on them. He sighed, then stood up from the bed. He swayed as he stood, but Dean put his arm out to steady him. “Maybe Uriel was right,” Castiel whispered.
“About what?” Dean asked. He released his hold on the angel. “Sending me back to Hell?”
“What?” Castiel asked. “No, of course not.”
“Then what?”
“He wanted me to go back up to Heaven to get healed instead of coming to talk to you.”
“But you chose to come here, which obviously wasn’t a good idea because you look like crap. By the way, you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
Castiel sighed. “I just wanted to thank you for saving me.”
“No problem,” Dean said. He was concerned with how easily Castiel played off the fact he in a catatonic state for an hour.
Castiel looked up and saw that Dean had a worried look on his face. He’d seen that look so many times before. But he wasn’t sure what he was worried about this time. He could only guess that it was about Uriel. “You know that I would never let any harm come to you. Not under my watch,” Castiel reassured.
“I know,” Dean replied, not sure what prompted the response. It was automatic, like he’d said it before. He shook off the feeling and looked back at Castiel. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Fine.” Castiel put his hand on Dean, on his hand falling on the imprint he left on him. Dean waited for another vision, but received none. “Take care of yourself, Dean.” Right before he blinked, Castiel disappeared from the room.
Dean sat back onto his bed then laid down. And he began to think. He wondered why he couldn’t remember getting rescued from Hell. He remembered everything else, his torture, him doing the torturing, Alastair, but not the getting saved.
But the vision he saw when Castiel touched him was real. He knew that it was because he felt it. So he wondered and tried to remember. And he forced himself to remember until the moment that he went back to sleep.
The End
Author’s Note: Here is my story that killed two birds with one stone. Also, I didn’t believe Anna when she said that angels don’t feel. I believe that they feel more than anyone. I think that they seem so unfeeling is because they need to learn how to turn off their emotions, or they become overbearing. That’s just what I think. Well, there is my story. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock
Okay, so for the archangels, I don’t know if you guys are imagining them in vessels even if they are in Heaven, or if you just see them as bright silhouettes. But if it was the first choice, I have some people in mind. Honestly, I really wanted to make one of the angels a female, but because of Anna (I apologize if you liked her character), I decided against it. Here are my choices for the archangels.
Raphael – Matthew Mardsen (Saw him on an episode of NCIS and I thought that he was great. His picture on imdb is how I imagine him as Raphael.)
Gabriel – James Marsters (During his Spike days with the British accent.)
Michael – David Boreanaz or James Scott (I wanted someone with dark hair and dark eyes, but still looked young and I honestly couldn’t think of anyone. If you imagined someone else, that’s cool and I’d like to know who you thought of.)
Latin Translation.
By the grace of God. With God's help. The heavens declare the glory of God.
