The Hunter and the Hunted - Chapter Two
The thick sludge of the mire reached up to their knees. It was exhausting just putting one foot in front of the other. Every now and then Dean and Castiel would come across the stark limbs of a dead tree reaching up out of the swamp. But nothing ever seemed to change here, except maybe the dense fog closing in a little more… Voxifera had disappeared behind the white blanket some time ago. Looking back was just the same as looking forward. Fetid ground and a murky mist surrounded them completely. All they could do was keep moving forward and hope purgatory would reveal what they sought.
As they kept going Castiel’s feet seemed to stick more and more. Dean turned to grip his hand and pull him onward with a few words of encouragement. He didn’t know if it was Castiel tiring or the swamp trying to claim him. Dean just hoped against hope it wasn’t the latter.
“Hey, so what do you think about Voxifera?” Dean said it to break the silence, and give Castiel something to focus on. Besides, they hadn’t had a chance to discuss the wolf without her being there.
“She seems benevolent enough…” Castiel thoughtfully replied.
“Yeah, I’m still not so sure about her. I’ve had enough things smile to my face and bite me in the ass when my back’s turned…” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Dean cursed. Castiel’s betrayal was right up there with the best of them.
Happily Castiel didn’t seem to have picked up on it. “As she said, she could have killed us several times over by now if that’s what she wanted”.
“Well maybe she’s saving us for something, maybe there’s a game plan…”
“Maybe she’s just one of purgatory’s kindlier inhabitants hiding behind a vicious face. While the creatures here are certainly guilty of and capable of killing, many are not wholly evil… Lenore was a vampire and lived peacefully enough, and Eleanor…”
“Heh, call me old fashioned but I like to believe a monster is a monster until proven otherwise. Sometimes if you start asking questions first and shooting later you end up dead in this line of work… If she has got a game plan why is she sending us out here? Maybe it’s a trap. With all this First Beast talk maybe she’s sending us out here as a nice little snack for him… I dunno. I’d like to believe she’s genuinely helping us, and it’s the only lead we got right now, but I can’t help thinking these things. Blame it on my nasty suspicious little hunter mind…”
When Castiel didn’t answer Dean realised he was stuck again. He went to grab the former angel’s arm and turned to pull him and walk on. Dean’s own arm just jerked back, Castiel stood in place. “Come on Cas, give me a little help here”.
He faced the former angel then, giving Castiel’s arm another pull. Castiel still stood, staring fixedly ahead. “What’s the matter Cas? What’s wrong?”
There was no reply, Castiel was starting to worry Dean. He pulled harder at the angel, speaking firmly, trying to snap him out of it. “Come on Cas! I know it’s difficult, just put one foot in front of the other”.
Then to his alarm Dean realised the mire had inched up Castiel’s legs. “Cas! You’re sinking! Come on! Move your feet!”
Castiel spoke then; his eyes were wide and filled with tears. “I’m sorry Eleanor… Balthazar… Sam. All of you, everyone, I’m so sorry”. He sounded like a lost child, addressing ghosts that haunted him.
Fear struck Dean… the swamp was trying to claim Castiel. The mire was digging its claws deep into the ex-angel’s sins, and Castiel’s guilt left him defenceless. Dean was pulling frantically at his arm now. Castiel had sunk up to his waist and Dean could see him sinking further. “No! Don’t be sorry! Don’t give in! Come on… Castiel! Fight it! Please, you have to try!”
Castiel looked directly at Dean, meeting his eyes. “This is what I deserve… I’m sorry Dean”.
“Don’t say that to me!” Something in Dean broke then. Through Castiel’s betrayal, downfall, and recovery they had had their fair share of fights, but their friendship stood fast at the heart of it all. Dean had once said he would forgive Castiel, he couldn’t do it then, but he would do it eventually… He thought they would have a lifetime to work things out. And now, with Castiel’s life slipping through his fingers, Dean realised he didn’t need to forgive Castiel. He had already forgiven him.
The mire reached Castiel’s arms. Dean moved in closer and wrapped his own arms around the former angel, trying to hold him up. Dean’s voice was quieter now, breaking up around his words. “Castiel, please, fight… do it for me, you’re my friend, my brother… I forgive you”.
Dean felt the former angel slip a little further. “Castiel! You stupid angel! You’ve got to move or you’ll die!”
Castiel just looked at Dean with dull eyes as if he was already gone. “Move… please. Don’t give up! Castiel, I’ve forgiven you. Now forgive yourself!”
Suddenly the pulling force ceased and Castiel’s eyes closed. Frantically Dean checked for his pulse and sighed with relief at feeling it beating strongly. The swamp must have released its hold… “Thank you” Dean whispered to the air.
Dean felt utterly drained, the adrenaline of the last few moments had left him hollow, and their ordeal was far from over. Now he had to forge ahead through the swamp and drag Castiel with him. The cold mud of the mire had seeped into Dean’s clothes and against his skin. He had to fight for every step; it was an exercise in misery. But one thought ran through Dean’s mind. He couldn’t remember where he had heard it or who had said it, but it seemed appropriate: If you’re going through hell, keep going.
Of course, they had both been through hell… Castiel had pulled Dean out of it. This wasn’t hell; it was a different kind of torture with a different kind of despair. And this time Dean would pull Castiel out. Every cell of his being was screaming for him to stop; the dead weight of the former angel dragged on his heart, but Dean would keep going. He always kept going.
After making it a little further the fog parted to reveal solid ground ahead. It seemed purgatory had taken mercy on them. Dean hauled Castiel out of the mire and collapsed on the ground next to him. After taking a few deep breaths and revelling in the feeling of having survived, Dean sat up to take in their surroundings.
They were at the base of a large mound, a few trees were scattered around the edge, and large rocks lined a path to the top where they merged into a formation. At the bottom of it a cave was just visible from their position.
Castiel stirred and opened his eyes. The clear blue gave a contrast to the foul, swamp mud that covered them both from head to toe. “Thank you Dean”. It was said with such sincerity and meaning, his eyes said more than words ever could.
“Cas… I thought I’d lost you”. The feel of Castiel’s lifeless body in Dean’s arms was all too real; he was beyond relieved to see the former angel alive and awake now.
“I thought I was lost… I could hear it, in my head, telling me…” Castiel’s words faltered and he took several deep breaths as if he’d been out for a long run. Dean shuffled closer and placed a steady hand on the former angel’s shoulder. He didn’t need to hear what it told Castiel. That was clear enough. “… It sounded like him, it said I was a monster, it said all of Heaven wept when an angel deserved to die… and then you forgave me”.
Castiel looked to Dean and his anxious eyes softened. “You forgave me and it fell silent. I realised what I did, what I became, everything that happened because of me… I can never change that. I can only change myself, and I have changed. I am not the same person I was then. I am not so arrogant, not so blind, and not so foolish”.
“It’s ok Cas… you can forgive yourself”. Dean smiled sadly.
“I have, just as you told me, and in granting forgiveness I also vowed to do things right from now on”. Castiel tried pushing himself up with difficulty. “Dean, there’s something, I have to…”
Dean gave him a hand in getting up. “Don’t worry about it Cas, we can talk about everything once we’re off this God-forsaken rock. I hope you’re up for a walk, looks like we’ve got some climbing to do”.
Dean looked to the top of the mound. If they were searching for a beast, the cave seemed a likely place to start…
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As they trekked up towards the cave Castiel’s mind was firmly on the pills he had been taking. He had vowed to do things right, and part of that would be coming clean to Dean. Hiding things from Dean had been part of the whole wretched disaster before. It was unwise to go down that path again. But just as he was about to confess Dean had put him back on his feet and forged ahead… Perhaps it was the wrong time and place for such discussion. But Castiel wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out, he felt himself deteriorating by the minute. The sheen of sweat on his forehead could be explained by the uphill walk they were undertaking, but truthfully Castiel was running hot and cold, and after this exertion he felt on the verge of collapse.
Castiel never had to suffer pain and sickness when this body was just a vessel. As an angel he had always been a step removed from any damage sustained, and his grace would heal it before he really felt anything. But now this body was his own and Castiel felt everything. He yearned for his grace to come back, to take it all away, and his thoughts turned to Anna. Anna had fallen to feel… he couldn’t understand, why would she want this? Why would anyone want this? It hurt, human existence was full of pain. It was getting harder to move, harder to think. Scattered thoughts tumbled through his mind… Anna, Uriel… Zachariah, Lucifer… apocalypse, hell… Dean. There was Dean… friendship, loyalty. Maybe humanity did have a few good things to offer. Castiel focussed on Dean forging ahead in front of him and tried to pull his fractured thoughts together. They were to face the First Beast. From his faded memories a verse came to the fore… And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy… He needed to focus.
Upon reaching the cave mouth Castiel quickly took a seat upon a rock while Dean started exploring. The cave was huge and looked to be deep. Castiel imagined you could spend days blindly wandering the darkness within.
“Hey! Beast! Beast, you home?!” Dean’s voice echoed into the abyss.
“You should call him with a little more respect…” Though he spoke between panted breaths, the corner of Castiel’s mouth quirked a little; he knew that wasn’t Dean’s style.
“Oh, so you mean like… Dear Beast! Won’t you be a good fellow and step out for a word with us please?”
“Um… just like that, yes” Castiel rolled his eyes.
Too late they noticed Dean’s voice hadn’t echoed. Instead a shuffling sound came to them and sickly green eyes lit up in the darkness. Castiel stood and stumbled back to join Dean… There were many pairs of eyes, all moving in concert. A sickening scent rolled out of the depths; different from purgatory’s fetid air… it was reminiscent of hellfire. The beast stopped at the threshold of the cave, leaving itself concealed in shadow. Then it spoke with many voices, all as one, but each sounded aged and wrecked. “Who are you? For what purpose do you wake me?”
Castiel stepped forward on shaking legs to address the beast. “Forgive us, I am Castiel, and this is my friend Dean Winchester”.
“You offer your names freely, and by your names I know you. So a celestial and the Righteous Man have come to visit… but you have not yet told me why you are here”. The many voices of the beast were disconcerting. Some seemed to speak before others, giving a rolling effect to its speech.
“We seek your help. We became trapped here after slaying the leader of the leviathans, and we are told you know the way out”. Castiel tried to gather his thoughts for the cut and thrust of words the beast would no doubt engage in, but it was taking enough effort just to stand before the creature.
“Maybe I do… maybe I don’t, but more importantly why should I help you?” Its ancient, cracked voice sounded world weary. The beast seemed genuinely in search of a reason why it should help a pair of mortals from a world that had long passed it by.
Castiel opened his mouth but Dean seemed to notice the former angel was starting to tire and struggle. He stepped forward beside Castiel and lent his voice to the proceedings. “Look, we’ve done you guys a service, putting the souls back here and locking that son of a bitch up again. The least you can do is help us get back home”.
One pair of eyes slinked closer. Purgatory’s pale light revealed a terrible horned head with a wide mouth that looked like it belonged to a lion. Its invasive stare ate at Castiel, telling him it knew exactly how the souls and leviathans were released in the first place. “And why should I care about that?”
“Well… they didn’t belong up there on earth. A place for every soul and every soul in its place you know…”
“Quite, but I care nothing for the souls here, or the leviathans. They may run where they will… I have been here a long time, and I will be here a long time yet. I am the First Beast, I am Therion. I was created to destroy and lead astray those marked… Now I am defeated and chained here. You angels create your own destruction now, spurned by an indifferent God. He made us all, good and bad alike. Do not think that he is pure; the evil he poured into each creature must dwell in his heart. The leviathan’s hunger for destruction is his own hunger. Why do you worship him? He is a monster like any other, and he has abandoned his creations. So I care little for his rules… for what goes where and when. Tell me, if God no longer cares then why should I?”
“Ok, look, first off I ain’t worshipping nobody… and what about this rock you live on? We’re alive, and we don’t belong here. I’m told we could upset a fair few things in these parts. If purgatory goes down the tube, so do you”.
“Well… I could easily solve that problem by killing you now. But you think this existence is one I hold dear? I sleep and have only my dreams… To die eternally would at least be something. Now leave me be, before I change my mind about killing you…” The eyes started blinking out and the beast made to shuffle away.
“Wait! Wait, come back! Please… I just want to get home to my brother”. Dean didn’t expect such family sentiments to move the beast; he was clutching at straws and just blurted it out. But the beast stilled all the same.
“A brother? I had a brother once… Brothers bring nothing but pain. He was lesser to me, he was meant to command people to worship me, but he was jealous, he envied my crowns. And I am crowned no longer… I am sure much of my current predicament can be laid at his feet. Now he walks the earth, seeking a crown of his own. I wonder if he has found it… My brother hides; he is a false prophet with a false face. Were he stood before me I would not recognise him. It was his one real talent…” The First Beast’s many eyes were alive with anger. “Has your brother caused you pain?”
“Truthfully… yes”. Dean wasn’t sure where he was going with this. It seemed he had found something the First Beast actually cared about anyway.
“Then you must return to him. To inflict your own pain in vengeance… whether you mean to or not, you will. My time is done; my brother is out of reach. But my retribution can live through you, the First Beast, the older brother. Your every harsh word, your every brandished blade… they will all be mine. Breathe in the breath of my wrath and it will be done”.
The First Beast turned several of its heads towards Dean, they began to blow a great wind at him. It was difficult to hear, he was sure Castiel called his name, but the beast’s words cut through like a knife.
“There is only one with the keys to purgatory and the freedom to move between our worlds at will: The Master of the Wild Hunt. Seek him out, but be wary, the Hunt may only be approached safely when they sit at banquet. Now be gone, and let me sleep”. The remaining heads joined in with the gale, now targeting Castiel as well. The two of them lost their footing and then their grip on consciousness.
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A wet nose pushed at Dean’s cheek… that damn dog again. Wait…
“Wake up” Voxifera’s face hovered inches above Dean’s.
He shot up and was immediately relieved to see Castiel curled up beside him. He was also relieved to see the muck of the swamp had been cleaned from them.
The wolf dropped Dean’s jacket on top of him and then glared at him eagerly. “So, what did you learn?”
Dean shook his head, feeling as if he were clearing a fog from his mind. “The Hunt… the beast said we have to find the Master of the Wild Hunt. He can get us out of purgatory”.
Voxifera froze, Dean was sure he could detect a hint of fear in her eyes. “You will find no aid if you seek the Hunt. They will see you only as prey”.
“Well the beast says we can approach them safely at banquet”.
“There is nothing safe about the Hunt. They are dangerous, to me as well as you. We creatures are already dead in this place… if we are slain we wake here again. The beasts of purgatory hunger and no kill can bring satisfaction. With each new death the hunger worsens, and that is all we have to fear. But if you are slain by the Hunt you awake as a thrall in the Master’s service, there is much to fear about that... and he has long sought my hide to adorn his shoulders. If you insist on pursuing the Hunt I can protect you no longer”.
“But we have to. The Beast said he holds the keys to purgatory and moves between worlds at will. It’s our only way out of here…” Dean looked to Castiel for some back up, but he found the former angel still curled up and shivering. He sighed. “Ok, at least take us some place safe so Cas can rest up. He isn’t well, and it’s no use going after the Hunt while he’s like this. Then you can do what you like”.
Dean picked up his coat and draped it over Castiel, shaking him lightly as he did so. “Come on dude, can you get up? We can’t stay here…”
He only received a low moan in response. “I know you feel like crap, but if you can just get up and walk a little further we’ll have a nice long rest somewhere safe”.
Castiel made a more cooperative noise and raised a hand to Dean. The former angel swayed a moment after he was pulled to his feet. Then he swiped an arm across his face and blinked his eyes a few times. His rough voice muttered: “I’m fine, lead on” before he took a few shaky steps.
“Dude, if you’re fine, I’m Mother Teresa…”
They walked along slowly, making little progress. Voxifera seemed frustrated and anxious up front, while Dean kept a watchful eye on Castiel, making sure he was keeping up. Every time Dean asked how much further they were going to be walking Voxifera would tell him not far. Dean started to doubt her answer…
Then came the moment Dean turned to Castiel only to see his footsteps falter and his legs give way. As he hit the ground Dean ran to Castiel’s side and pulled the former angel up to cradle his head on his lap. Lightly Dean patted his face. “Hey, hey Cas? You with me?”
Castiel’s eyelids fluttered and a hazy focus came back to his sight. “Dean… there’s something… pocket, my pocket. I’m sorry”. He spoke as if each word cost him greatly.
“I thought we were done with apologies huh? It’s ok… just breathe”. Dean reached his hand into Castiel’s pocket since it seemed to be so important to him. An icy chill ran through him as his fingers hit something solid and familiar.
Dean pulled out the pill bottle, noting it was empty. He felt as if someone had punched him in the chest. He looked at Castiel and found the ex-angel looking back with such earnest regret in his eyes.
“You were…” Dean struggled to find his voice amid the disbelief. “… all that time you were taking the pills?”
Castiel gave a weak nod.
“Dammit Cas! You know how much these things can screw you up?!” With his current condition he was sure Castiel now had an idea. “And it’s empty, so this must be withdrawal…”
Dean wanted to yell and shake some sense into the former angel. But the pale, weak and shivering figure on his knee was a stark reminder of their trial through the mire. Dean’s fear at almost losing his friend, and Castiel’s revelation, were fresh in his mind… He realised Castiel had led him to the pill bottle; he had wanted to confess and be truthful with Dean. Castiel was trying to change. And so no matter how much Dean wanted to shout and scream and rage against the endless crap they were forced to live through, he just couldn’t bring himself to be angry at the angel.
As the fury passed from Dean’s face he tenderly pulled his jacket back around the ex-angel. “It’s ok, you’re ok… we’ll get you through this”. Castiel’s eyes closed, a look of relief the last thing on his face.
Voxifera suddenly moved in and lay down by the former angel. “Throw him over my back. We cannot linger, the mormolykeia are close”.
A howl split the darkness as Dean hefted Castiel onto Voxifera. He barely had time to check the former angel was secure before the wolf dashed off. A second howl joined in with the first as Dean followed them into the trees. A third sounded soon after.
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This song is for the demons
That haunted you in those loveless lonely nights
And for the shadows that stained your soul
For the echoes of your loss
Sam slammed another dusty book shut and drained the last of his coffee. He was getting nowhere. Missouri’s words had led him to dead end after dead end. So getting to his feet Sam started gathering a few items for a ritual. All he had been able to dig up on the ‘false prophet’ and ‘lamb with a dragon’s voice’ were references to the second beast of Revelation. And according to everyone he spoke to, and everything he read, there was no such thing. Then again angels had also been fictional not so long ago…
With nothing to go on Sam had gone back to his process of elimination. Hell or purgatory were his best options for Dean and Castiel’s location, and unfortunately his best lead on both of them would be Crowley. So Sam found himself in Rufus’ cabin putting together a summoning ritual for the King of Hell. Crowley was the last person he wanted to speak to right now, but he had vowed to do whatever it took to get Dean back… Together with the ritual items Sam had retrieved a bottle of whisky. He took a swig before striking a match and dropping it into the bowl of blood and worse.
“Ah Sam, taking to the bottle I see. Missing Dean are we?”
Sam resisted the impulse to punch Crowley’s smarmy grinning face. “You don’t say anything about him. You just tell me where he is”.
“See this is what comes of such co-dependency. You get separated and you run yourself into the ground… or maybe you’re just jealous. Dean and his angel off somewhere together without you… I can only imagine what they’re getting up to”. Crowley gave a lewd wink.
Sam’s fists clenched at his sides. “Where is he?”
“Bet he’s glad to be rid of you, little brother, cramping his style…”
“Have you got him in hell?”
“I might have… you’re not bothered about the angel then? Can’t help but notice you haven’t asked after him. Still bitter?”
“Cas is… forgiven. Now have you got them or not?” Sam was rapidly losing patience with Crowley’s games.
“And what if I said you could only have one back? You’d pick Dean of course, but what if I said you had to torture dear old Cas to free him?” Crowley took a step forwards. “You would do it wouldn’t you? You would do anything…”
“No…” Sam whispered unconvincingly.
Crowley stepped closer still, his voice turning menacing and dangerous. “I know you Winchesters. So sacrificial, you would give up pieces of your humanity while you tortured and became what you hated. You would cut your friend to ribbons, seeing him as a piece of meat standing between you and your brother… You would do it. And you know what I would do? I would carry on where you left off”.
The demon stood inches from Sam’s face, spittle flecking the air between them. “I would take him to pieces and remake him with hate at the core of his heart. And when dear Castiel could fall no lower, when he was completely mine, I would send him back to you. My black eyed boy would take Dean from you, drag him back where he belongs and the torture would start anew. Only this time it would be Castiel’s hands peeling the skin from Dean’s bones, and you would be left here alone again”.
Abruptly Crowley dropped his threatening demeanour and turned on his heel. After taking a few steps he turned back to Sam, smarmy grin in place again. “Lucky for you, I don’t have them. They’re not in hell”.
Sam took a couple of deep breaths after suffering Crowley’s verbal onslaught. When he found his voice he put the bite back in it. “Then where are they?”
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Purgatory my dear dense fellow. They’re in purgatory”.
“How… how do I get them back?”
“Well for starters you’re going to need something connected to them both… something powerful… something a little like this”. Crowley took his fist from a pocket and held it out in front of him.
When the demon opened his fist Dean’s amulet dropped down. It hung off a finger, swinging slightly in the air, glowing faintly from Castiel’s grace held within.
“What do you want in exchange? My soul?”
“You’re so eager to give it away after all the trouble you went through to get it back?” Crowley tutted. “What would Dean say? In any case, you forget - this holds a piece of Lucifer too. As much as I would like your soul I am loath to let this out of my sight…”
Sam raised his voice. “What then? There must be something!”
“Calm down ducky. I’ve got an idea. See, you don’t want to let go of your soul, and I don’t want to let go of this trinket. How about instead of a deal we play a game?”
“I’ve had it with games Crowley, this isn’t a game, it’s our lives you’re playing with!”
“I’m well aware of the stakes, believe me”. A dangerous edge came into his voice again. “Me and the lads get together for a game of poker on a Friday night. Care to join us?”
“Poker? You want me to put my soul on a game of poker?”
“Am I not speaking English? Yes! Now are you in or not?”
Sam weighed up his options. He didn’t trust Crowley as far as he could throw him. But what other choice did he have? If he went along with it he might be able to find a way to get his hands on the amulet… It had to be better than a straight up deal for his soul in any case. He had to get Dean back, and he would do whatever he had to.
“I’m in”.
“Good”.
Click.
Chapter Three - For the Lonely
As they kept going Castiel’s feet seemed to stick more and more. Dean turned to grip his hand and pull him onward with a few words of encouragement. He didn’t know if it was Castiel tiring or the swamp trying to claim him. Dean just hoped against hope it wasn’t the latter.
“Hey, so what do you think about Voxifera?” Dean said it to break the silence, and give Castiel something to focus on. Besides, they hadn’t had a chance to discuss the wolf without her being there.
“She seems benevolent enough…” Castiel thoughtfully replied.
“Yeah, I’m still not so sure about her. I’ve had enough things smile to my face and bite me in the ass when my back’s turned…” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Dean cursed. Castiel’s betrayal was right up there with the best of them.
Happily Castiel didn’t seem to have picked up on it. “As she said, she could have killed us several times over by now if that’s what she wanted”.
“Well maybe she’s saving us for something, maybe there’s a game plan…”
“Maybe she’s just one of purgatory’s kindlier inhabitants hiding behind a vicious face. While the creatures here are certainly guilty of and capable of killing, many are not wholly evil… Lenore was a vampire and lived peacefully enough, and Eleanor…”
“Heh, call me old fashioned but I like to believe a monster is a monster until proven otherwise. Sometimes if you start asking questions first and shooting later you end up dead in this line of work… If she has got a game plan why is she sending us out here? Maybe it’s a trap. With all this First Beast talk maybe she’s sending us out here as a nice little snack for him… I dunno. I’d like to believe she’s genuinely helping us, and it’s the only lead we got right now, but I can’t help thinking these things. Blame it on my nasty suspicious little hunter mind…”
When Castiel didn’t answer Dean realised he was stuck again. He went to grab the former angel’s arm and turned to pull him and walk on. Dean’s own arm just jerked back, Castiel stood in place. “Come on Cas, give me a little help here”.
He faced the former angel then, giving Castiel’s arm another pull. Castiel still stood, staring fixedly ahead. “What’s the matter Cas? What’s wrong?”
There was no reply, Castiel was starting to worry Dean. He pulled harder at the angel, speaking firmly, trying to snap him out of it. “Come on Cas! I know it’s difficult, just put one foot in front of the other”.
Then to his alarm Dean realised the mire had inched up Castiel’s legs. “Cas! You’re sinking! Come on! Move your feet!”
Castiel spoke then; his eyes were wide and filled with tears. “I’m sorry Eleanor… Balthazar… Sam. All of you, everyone, I’m so sorry”. He sounded like a lost child, addressing ghosts that haunted him.
Fear struck Dean… the swamp was trying to claim Castiel. The mire was digging its claws deep into the ex-angel’s sins, and Castiel’s guilt left him defenceless. Dean was pulling frantically at his arm now. Castiel had sunk up to his waist and Dean could see him sinking further. “No! Don’t be sorry! Don’t give in! Come on… Castiel! Fight it! Please, you have to try!”
Castiel looked directly at Dean, meeting his eyes. “This is what I deserve… I’m sorry Dean”.
“Don’t say that to me!” Something in Dean broke then. Through Castiel’s betrayal, downfall, and recovery they had had their fair share of fights, but their friendship stood fast at the heart of it all. Dean had once said he would forgive Castiel, he couldn’t do it then, but he would do it eventually… He thought they would have a lifetime to work things out. And now, with Castiel’s life slipping through his fingers, Dean realised he didn’t need to forgive Castiel. He had already forgiven him.
The mire reached Castiel’s arms. Dean moved in closer and wrapped his own arms around the former angel, trying to hold him up. Dean’s voice was quieter now, breaking up around his words. “Castiel, please, fight… do it for me, you’re my friend, my brother… I forgive you”.
Dean felt the former angel slip a little further. “Castiel! You stupid angel! You’ve got to move or you’ll die!”
Castiel just looked at Dean with dull eyes as if he was already gone. “Move… please. Don’t give up! Castiel, I’ve forgiven you. Now forgive yourself!”
Suddenly the pulling force ceased and Castiel’s eyes closed. Frantically Dean checked for his pulse and sighed with relief at feeling it beating strongly. The swamp must have released its hold… “Thank you” Dean whispered to the air.
Dean felt utterly drained, the adrenaline of the last few moments had left him hollow, and their ordeal was far from over. Now he had to forge ahead through the swamp and drag Castiel with him. The cold mud of the mire had seeped into Dean’s clothes and against his skin. He had to fight for every step; it was an exercise in misery. But one thought ran through Dean’s mind. He couldn’t remember where he had heard it or who had said it, but it seemed appropriate: If you’re going through hell, keep going.
Of course, they had both been through hell… Castiel had pulled Dean out of it. This wasn’t hell; it was a different kind of torture with a different kind of despair. And this time Dean would pull Castiel out. Every cell of his being was screaming for him to stop; the dead weight of the former angel dragged on his heart, but Dean would keep going. He always kept going.
After making it a little further the fog parted to reveal solid ground ahead. It seemed purgatory had taken mercy on them. Dean hauled Castiel out of the mire and collapsed on the ground next to him. After taking a few deep breaths and revelling in the feeling of having survived, Dean sat up to take in their surroundings.
They were at the base of a large mound, a few trees were scattered around the edge, and large rocks lined a path to the top where they merged into a formation. At the bottom of it a cave was just visible from their position.
Castiel stirred and opened his eyes. The clear blue gave a contrast to the foul, swamp mud that covered them both from head to toe. “Thank you Dean”. It was said with such sincerity and meaning, his eyes said more than words ever could.
“Cas… I thought I’d lost you”. The feel of Castiel’s lifeless body in Dean’s arms was all too real; he was beyond relieved to see the former angel alive and awake now.
“I thought I was lost… I could hear it, in my head, telling me…” Castiel’s words faltered and he took several deep breaths as if he’d been out for a long run. Dean shuffled closer and placed a steady hand on the former angel’s shoulder. He didn’t need to hear what it told Castiel. That was clear enough. “… It sounded like him, it said I was a monster, it said all of Heaven wept when an angel deserved to die… and then you forgave me”.
Castiel looked to Dean and his anxious eyes softened. “You forgave me and it fell silent. I realised what I did, what I became, everything that happened because of me… I can never change that. I can only change myself, and I have changed. I am not the same person I was then. I am not so arrogant, not so blind, and not so foolish”.
“It’s ok Cas… you can forgive yourself”. Dean smiled sadly.
“I have, just as you told me, and in granting forgiveness I also vowed to do things right from now on”. Castiel tried pushing himself up with difficulty. “Dean, there’s something, I have to…”
Dean gave him a hand in getting up. “Don’t worry about it Cas, we can talk about everything once we’re off this God-forsaken rock. I hope you’re up for a walk, looks like we’ve got some climbing to do”.
Dean looked to the top of the mound. If they were searching for a beast, the cave seemed a likely place to start…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As they trekked up towards the cave Castiel’s mind was firmly on the pills he had been taking. He had vowed to do things right, and part of that would be coming clean to Dean. Hiding things from Dean had been part of the whole wretched disaster before. It was unwise to go down that path again. But just as he was about to confess Dean had put him back on his feet and forged ahead… Perhaps it was the wrong time and place for such discussion. But Castiel wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out, he felt himself deteriorating by the minute. The sheen of sweat on his forehead could be explained by the uphill walk they were undertaking, but truthfully Castiel was running hot and cold, and after this exertion he felt on the verge of collapse.
Castiel never had to suffer pain and sickness when this body was just a vessel. As an angel he had always been a step removed from any damage sustained, and his grace would heal it before he really felt anything. But now this body was his own and Castiel felt everything. He yearned for his grace to come back, to take it all away, and his thoughts turned to Anna. Anna had fallen to feel… he couldn’t understand, why would she want this? Why would anyone want this? It hurt, human existence was full of pain. It was getting harder to move, harder to think. Scattered thoughts tumbled through his mind… Anna, Uriel… Zachariah, Lucifer… apocalypse, hell… Dean. There was Dean… friendship, loyalty. Maybe humanity did have a few good things to offer. Castiel focussed on Dean forging ahead in front of him and tried to pull his fractured thoughts together. They were to face the First Beast. From his faded memories a verse came to the fore… And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy… He needed to focus.
Upon reaching the cave mouth Castiel quickly took a seat upon a rock while Dean started exploring. The cave was huge and looked to be deep. Castiel imagined you could spend days blindly wandering the darkness within.
“Hey! Beast! Beast, you home?!” Dean’s voice echoed into the abyss.
“You should call him with a little more respect…” Though he spoke between panted breaths, the corner of Castiel’s mouth quirked a little; he knew that wasn’t Dean’s style.
“Oh, so you mean like… Dear Beast! Won’t you be a good fellow and step out for a word with us please?”
“Um… just like that, yes” Castiel rolled his eyes.
Too late they noticed Dean’s voice hadn’t echoed. Instead a shuffling sound came to them and sickly green eyes lit up in the darkness. Castiel stood and stumbled back to join Dean… There were many pairs of eyes, all moving in concert. A sickening scent rolled out of the depths; different from purgatory’s fetid air… it was reminiscent of hellfire. The beast stopped at the threshold of the cave, leaving itself concealed in shadow. Then it spoke with many voices, all as one, but each sounded aged and wrecked. “Who are you? For what purpose do you wake me?”
Castiel stepped forward on shaking legs to address the beast. “Forgive us, I am Castiel, and this is my friend Dean Winchester”.
“You offer your names freely, and by your names I know you. So a celestial and the Righteous Man have come to visit… but you have not yet told me why you are here”. The many voices of the beast were disconcerting. Some seemed to speak before others, giving a rolling effect to its speech.
“We seek your help. We became trapped here after slaying the leader of the leviathans, and we are told you know the way out”. Castiel tried to gather his thoughts for the cut and thrust of words the beast would no doubt engage in, but it was taking enough effort just to stand before the creature.
“Maybe I do… maybe I don’t, but more importantly why should I help you?” Its ancient, cracked voice sounded world weary. The beast seemed genuinely in search of a reason why it should help a pair of mortals from a world that had long passed it by.
Castiel opened his mouth but Dean seemed to notice the former angel was starting to tire and struggle. He stepped forward beside Castiel and lent his voice to the proceedings. “Look, we’ve done you guys a service, putting the souls back here and locking that son of a bitch up again. The least you can do is help us get back home”.
One pair of eyes slinked closer. Purgatory’s pale light revealed a terrible horned head with a wide mouth that looked like it belonged to a lion. Its invasive stare ate at Castiel, telling him it knew exactly how the souls and leviathans were released in the first place. “And why should I care about that?”
“Well… they didn’t belong up there on earth. A place for every soul and every soul in its place you know…”
“Quite, but I care nothing for the souls here, or the leviathans. They may run where they will… I have been here a long time, and I will be here a long time yet. I am the First Beast, I am Therion. I was created to destroy and lead astray those marked… Now I am defeated and chained here. You angels create your own destruction now, spurned by an indifferent God. He made us all, good and bad alike. Do not think that he is pure; the evil he poured into each creature must dwell in his heart. The leviathan’s hunger for destruction is his own hunger. Why do you worship him? He is a monster like any other, and he has abandoned his creations. So I care little for his rules… for what goes where and when. Tell me, if God no longer cares then why should I?”
“Ok, look, first off I ain’t worshipping nobody… and what about this rock you live on? We’re alive, and we don’t belong here. I’m told we could upset a fair few things in these parts. If purgatory goes down the tube, so do you”.
“Well… I could easily solve that problem by killing you now. But you think this existence is one I hold dear? I sleep and have only my dreams… To die eternally would at least be something. Now leave me be, before I change my mind about killing you…” The eyes started blinking out and the beast made to shuffle away.
“Wait! Wait, come back! Please… I just want to get home to my brother”. Dean didn’t expect such family sentiments to move the beast; he was clutching at straws and just blurted it out. But the beast stilled all the same.
“A brother? I had a brother once… Brothers bring nothing but pain. He was lesser to me, he was meant to command people to worship me, but he was jealous, he envied my crowns. And I am crowned no longer… I am sure much of my current predicament can be laid at his feet. Now he walks the earth, seeking a crown of his own. I wonder if he has found it… My brother hides; he is a false prophet with a false face. Were he stood before me I would not recognise him. It was his one real talent…” The First Beast’s many eyes were alive with anger. “Has your brother caused you pain?”
“Truthfully… yes”. Dean wasn’t sure where he was going with this. It seemed he had found something the First Beast actually cared about anyway.
“Then you must return to him. To inflict your own pain in vengeance… whether you mean to or not, you will. My time is done; my brother is out of reach. But my retribution can live through you, the First Beast, the older brother. Your every harsh word, your every brandished blade… they will all be mine. Breathe in the breath of my wrath and it will be done”.
The First Beast turned several of its heads towards Dean, they began to blow a great wind at him. It was difficult to hear, he was sure Castiel called his name, but the beast’s words cut through like a knife.
“There is only one with the keys to purgatory and the freedom to move between our worlds at will: The Master of the Wild Hunt. Seek him out, but be wary, the Hunt may only be approached safely when they sit at banquet. Now be gone, and let me sleep”. The remaining heads joined in with the gale, now targeting Castiel as well. The two of them lost their footing and then their grip on consciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A wet nose pushed at Dean’s cheek… that damn dog again. Wait…
“Wake up” Voxifera’s face hovered inches above Dean’s.
He shot up and was immediately relieved to see Castiel curled up beside him. He was also relieved to see the muck of the swamp had been cleaned from them.
The wolf dropped Dean’s jacket on top of him and then glared at him eagerly. “So, what did you learn?”
Dean shook his head, feeling as if he were clearing a fog from his mind. “The Hunt… the beast said we have to find the Master of the Wild Hunt. He can get us out of purgatory”.
Voxifera froze, Dean was sure he could detect a hint of fear in her eyes. “You will find no aid if you seek the Hunt. They will see you only as prey”.
“Well the beast says we can approach them safely at banquet”.
“There is nothing safe about the Hunt. They are dangerous, to me as well as you. We creatures are already dead in this place… if we are slain we wake here again. The beasts of purgatory hunger and no kill can bring satisfaction. With each new death the hunger worsens, and that is all we have to fear. But if you are slain by the Hunt you awake as a thrall in the Master’s service, there is much to fear about that... and he has long sought my hide to adorn his shoulders. If you insist on pursuing the Hunt I can protect you no longer”.
“But we have to. The Beast said he holds the keys to purgatory and moves between worlds at will. It’s our only way out of here…” Dean looked to Castiel for some back up, but he found the former angel still curled up and shivering. He sighed. “Ok, at least take us some place safe so Cas can rest up. He isn’t well, and it’s no use going after the Hunt while he’s like this. Then you can do what you like”.
Dean picked up his coat and draped it over Castiel, shaking him lightly as he did so. “Come on dude, can you get up? We can’t stay here…”
He only received a low moan in response. “I know you feel like crap, but if you can just get up and walk a little further we’ll have a nice long rest somewhere safe”.
Castiel made a more cooperative noise and raised a hand to Dean. The former angel swayed a moment after he was pulled to his feet. Then he swiped an arm across his face and blinked his eyes a few times. His rough voice muttered: “I’m fine, lead on” before he took a few shaky steps.
“Dude, if you’re fine, I’m Mother Teresa…”
They walked along slowly, making little progress. Voxifera seemed frustrated and anxious up front, while Dean kept a watchful eye on Castiel, making sure he was keeping up. Every time Dean asked how much further they were going to be walking Voxifera would tell him not far. Dean started to doubt her answer…
Then came the moment Dean turned to Castiel only to see his footsteps falter and his legs give way. As he hit the ground Dean ran to Castiel’s side and pulled the former angel up to cradle his head on his lap. Lightly Dean patted his face. “Hey, hey Cas? You with me?”
Castiel’s eyelids fluttered and a hazy focus came back to his sight. “Dean… there’s something… pocket, my pocket. I’m sorry”. He spoke as if each word cost him greatly.
“I thought we were done with apologies huh? It’s ok… just breathe”. Dean reached his hand into Castiel’s pocket since it seemed to be so important to him. An icy chill ran through him as his fingers hit something solid and familiar.
Dean pulled out the pill bottle, noting it was empty. He felt as if someone had punched him in the chest. He looked at Castiel and found the ex-angel looking back with such earnest regret in his eyes.
“You were…” Dean struggled to find his voice amid the disbelief. “… all that time you were taking the pills?”
Castiel gave a weak nod.
“Dammit Cas! You know how much these things can screw you up?!” With his current condition he was sure Castiel now had an idea. “And it’s empty, so this must be withdrawal…”
Dean wanted to yell and shake some sense into the former angel. But the pale, weak and shivering figure on his knee was a stark reminder of their trial through the mire. Dean’s fear at almost losing his friend, and Castiel’s revelation, were fresh in his mind… He realised Castiel had led him to the pill bottle; he had wanted to confess and be truthful with Dean. Castiel was trying to change. And so no matter how much Dean wanted to shout and scream and rage against the endless crap they were forced to live through, he just couldn’t bring himself to be angry at the angel.
As the fury passed from Dean’s face he tenderly pulled his jacket back around the ex-angel. “It’s ok, you’re ok… we’ll get you through this”. Castiel’s eyes closed, a look of relief the last thing on his face.
Voxifera suddenly moved in and lay down by the former angel. “Throw him over my back. We cannot linger, the mormolykeia are close”.
A howl split the darkness as Dean hefted Castiel onto Voxifera. He barely had time to check the former angel was secure before the wolf dashed off. A second howl joined in with the first as Dean followed them into the trees. A third sounded soon after.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This song is for the demons
That haunted you in those loveless lonely nights
And for the shadows that stained your soul
For the echoes of your loss
Sam slammed another dusty book shut and drained the last of his coffee. He was getting nowhere. Missouri’s words had led him to dead end after dead end. So getting to his feet Sam started gathering a few items for a ritual. All he had been able to dig up on the ‘false prophet’ and ‘lamb with a dragon’s voice’ were references to the second beast of Revelation. And according to everyone he spoke to, and everything he read, there was no such thing. Then again angels had also been fictional not so long ago…
With nothing to go on Sam had gone back to his process of elimination. Hell or purgatory were his best options for Dean and Castiel’s location, and unfortunately his best lead on both of them would be Crowley. So Sam found himself in Rufus’ cabin putting together a summoning ritual for the King of Hell. Crowley was the last person he wanted to speak to right now, but he had vowed to do whatever it took to get Dean back… Together with the ritual items Sam had retrieved a bottle of whisky. He took a swig before striking a match and dropping it into the bowl of blood and worse.
“Ah Sam, taking to the bottle I see. Missing Dean are we?”
Sam resisted the impulse to punch Crowley’s smarmy grinning face. “You don’t say anything about him. You just tell me where he is”.
“See this is what comes of such co-dependency. You get separated and you run yourself into the ground… or maybe you’re just jealous. Dean and his angel off somewhere together without you… I can only imagine what they’re getting up to”. Crowley gave a lewd wink.
Sam’s fists clenched at his sides. “Where is he?”
“Bet he’s glad to be rid of you, little brother, cramping his style…”
“Have you got him in hell?”
“I might have… you’re not bothered about the angel then? Can’t help but notice you haven’t asked after him. Still bitter?”
“Cas is… forgiven. Now have you got them or not?” Sam was rapidly losing patience with Crowley’s games.
“And what if I said you could only have one back? You’d pick Dean of course, but what if I said you had to torture dear old Cas to free him?” Crowley took a step forwards. “You would do it wouldn’t you? You would do anything…”
“No…” Sam whispered unconvincingly.
Crowley stepped closer still, his voice turning menacing and dangerous. “I know you Winchesters. So sacrificial, you would give up pieces of your humanity while you tortured and became what you hated. You would cut your friend to ribbons, seeing him as a piece of meat standing between you and your brother… You would do it. And you know what I would do? I would carry on where you left off”.
The demon stood inches from Sam’s face, spittle flecking the air between them. “I would take him to pieces and remake him with hate at the core of his heart. And when dear Castiel could fall no lower, when he was completely mine, I would send him back to you. My black eyed boy would take Dean from you, drag him back where he belongs and the torture would start anew. Only this time it would be Castiel’s hands peeling the skin from Dean’s bones, and you would be left here alone again”.
Abruptly Crowley dropped his threatening demeanour and turned on his heel. After taking a few steps he turned back to Sam, smarmy grin in place again. “Lucky for you, I don’t have them. They’re not in hell”.
Sam took a couple of deep breaths after suffering Crowley’s verbal onslaught. When he found his voice he put the bite back in it. “Then where are they?”
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Purgatory my dear dense fellow. They’re in purgatory”.
“How… how do I get them back?”
“Well for starters you’re going to need something connected to them both… something powerful… something a little like this”. Crowley took his fist from a pocket and held it out in front of him.
When the demon opened his fist Dean’s amulet dropped down. It hung off a finger, swinging slightly in the air, glowing faintly from Castiel’s grace held within.
“What do you want in exchange? My soul?”
“You’re so eager to give it away after all the trouble you went through to get it back?” Crowley tutted. “What would Dean say? In any case, you forget - this holds a piece of Lucifer too. As much as I would like your soul I am loath to let this out of my sight…”
Sam raised his voice. “What then? There must be something!”
“Calm down ducky. I’ve got an idea. See, you don’t want to let go of your soul, and I don’t want to let go of this trinket. How about instead of a deal we play a game?”
“I’ve had it with games Crowley, this isn’t a game, it’s our lives you’re playing with!”
“I’m well aware of the stakes, believe me”. A dangerous edge came into his voice again. “Me and the lads get together for a game of poker on a Friday night. Care to join us?”
“Poker? You want me to put my soul on a game of poker?”
“Am I not speaking English? Yes! Now are you in or not?”
Sam weighed up his options. He didn’t trust Crowley as far as he could throw him. But what other choice did he have? If he went along with it he might be able to find a way to get his hands on the amulet… It had to be better than a straight up deal for his soul in any case. He had to get Dean back, and he would do whatever he had to.
“I’m in”.
“Good”.
Click.
Chapter Three - For the Lonely