Unexpected Destinies Chapter 125
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,977
Summary: Dean cried out as he fell into the dark abyss, not sure if he was suddenly going to hit the ground or just keep on falling.
PAST
Dean cried out as he fell into the dark abyss, not sure if he was suddenly going to hit the ground or just keep on falling. The pitch black closed in all around him as the light from above vanished and he was no longer sure if he was falling feet first or head first. He reached out desperately for anything that could break his fall, half afraid that he'd get a hand caught on something only to have it ripped right off or to be smacked into the side of the seemingly endless pit he was in.
Then, after an eternity and with a clatter that seemed deafeningly loud in the otherwise deathly silence, his shotgun caught on something and the next thing Dean knew he was jerked backwards by the shoulder harness he'd clipped it to. The suddenness of the break in momentum was breathtaking and he felt at least two of his ribs break and give way before he was sliding sideways, slipping out of the harness. With a cry of pain and terror, he desperately reached out and grabbed hold of the harness, all but praying that whatever his shotgun was caught on would hold and not give way beneath his weight.
His ribs were screaming their protest, causing pain to lance through him, but Dean refused to let go of his grip on the harness. God only knew how much further down the ground was and he had absolutely no intention of finding out the hard way only to end up nothing more than a red smear across the rock below. Sheer force of will and the look on his lover's face just before he'd gone over the edge let him pull himself back up enough to sling his right arm through the harness, his heart in his throat every time the material groaned ominously. For once he cursed the constant workouts that kept him in shape as his muscle mass was seriously adding to his weight now in a way that he could ill afford even if it was what was allowing him to try and save himself at the same time. Now there was a catch twenty-two if he'd ever heard of one.
As soon as he was sure that he wouldn't lose his grip, Dean dared to release the harness with his left hand and fumbled for the lighter that he always carried in his pocket. It took a bit of effort as it was in the wrong pocket for the hand he was using, but in the end he managed to get it, the ominous creaking of his shotgun harness spurring him on.
The first thing that Dean saw when he turned on the lighter was a rock wall mere inches from his face. It sent a thrill of relief through him, both at no longer being completely surrounded by darkness but also at the fact that the rock wasn't so smooth as to be unscalable. True, it wasn't the best surface for climbing he'd ever seen, but he'd take it over nothing even if it would be hell on his broken ribs. Part of him didn't want to look up, to just focus on the task at hand, but he knew that he had to see how much time he had here, or rather how much time he might not have.
A quick glance up showed Dean that his shotgun was unlikely to break free as it had lodged itself into an outcropping and lay behind a lip of rock. The harness, however, was a different matter altogether. The way it moved slightly back and forth over the rock, straining to hold his weight was likely to fray away at the material sooner rather than later and send him plunging on down to whatever lay below, so he couldn't just hang here either. Not that he'd really want to, but still the fact remained. A quick glance over his shoulder showed no hint of the other side of whatever shaft he'd fallen down and he swallowed thickly. It was like he'd fallen into space, looking that way with nothing but darkness even with a light.
Dean had never been one to be claustrophobic, but it still sent a shiver down his spine and he quickly looked forward again, studying the rock face. He wasn't particularly thrilled about looking down next as he was a little afraid of being greeted by nothing more than inky blackness signaling another seemingly bottomless drop, but he knew that he really had to. After all, how stupid would he feel if he scaled part of the wall only to discover later that he was only a ten foot drop off the ground?
Not wanting to do that, Dean braced himself and had a quick look down. What he saw made him incredibly grateful for the outcropping as not only could he just, faintly, make out the ground below, but it was littered with all kinds of sharp looking boulders and smaller rocks. He'd definitely have died on impact if he'd still been going at full velocity. The image that conjured made him pull a face before he turned his attention back to the wall. Naturally, given his luck lately, there was nothing that looked promising directly below him. The outcropping on which his shotgun was wedged, though, extended further to the left and sloped downwards lightly leading to a crevice in which he might be able to get some foot and handholds that would allow him to start moving downwards.
It was his best option and would allow him to retrieve his shotgun even if it meant that he'd have to go up before he could start to go down. Dean sighed, wishing he could just abandon the damn thing, but the odds were far too great that he'd need it again in order to get out of this hell hole. He snorted, his current surroundings gave a whole new meaning to that particular turn of phrase. And the best part of this whole situation? His light source was a damn lighter, which meant that if he didn't keep his finger on the depressor, it would go out and he couldn't climb and keep his lighter on, even if he weren't already injured. Muttering darkly about demons and their parentage, he planned his first set of moves before letting the lighter extinguish and putting it between his teeth.
With his now free hand, Dean reached out towards the first handhold he'd decided upon before daring to relinquish his death grip on the shotgun harness. Secure enough for the moment, he brought his legs forward and scrabbled for purchase. Once that was achieved he looped the harness around his chest once more as a crude safety net (if a rib breaking one) and hoped to hell that he wouldn't have to use it again. He then braced himself and reached upwards, drawing in a sharp breath as pain flared in his side. Maybe it wasn't totally bad that he couldn't see a damn thing as now at least he wouldn't have to deal with dark spots dancing before his eyes.
The pain when he let go with his good hand was excruciating and Dean forced himself to remember that he'd dealt with far, far, far worse before and survived. The memories of Hell were, for once, helpful and allowed him to work his way up to the outcropping on which his shotgun lay, wedged in among the sharp rocks. In addition to having been, quite literally, lifesaving, the outcropping proved to be a blessing for his ribs as he was able to stretch out on it- albeit awkwardly and uncomfortably- and rest his screaming ribs while he worked his harness and shotgun free.
A close inspection of the harness had Dean wincing before he shutdown thoughts of how close it had been. It hadn't happened and so it didn't bear thinking about, it was as simple as that, period. Wanting to make the most of the little break that he had before he had to start the climb down, he let the lighter go out and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get an accurate assessment of his body's condition in addition to the broken ribs that he already knew more than enough about. There were bruises coming up from where he'd hit the anti-angel barrier and landed on the floor before it had started to give way. Bruises he could deal with though he was silently thankful that Castiel had been taking care of his earlier ones whenever his angel'd had a chance to do so during the battle even if he'd protested it at the time.
Crap, thoughts of his lover allowed everything that Dean had been doing his best to avoid thinking about come flooding in. God, he really didn't want to think about what Castiel was going through right now, not after the way his angel had looked and sounded like before he'd fallen. He never, ever, wanted to hear his lover sound like that again. Ever. And he'd do everything in his power to prevent a recurrence if at all possible, even if it meant being more careful when he'd rather just get things done. Castiel deserved that. Just like his lover deserved to be put out of his misery as soon as possible too.
The thought had Dean raising his lighter and starting to flick it before a whisper of noise made him freeze. With the angel barrier, odds were that whatever had made the sound wasn't a friend, so he kept as quiet as possible as he strained for any indication of what had caused the noise in the first place. For a moment there was nothing and then suddenly there were the sounds of several people moving around down below, newly arrived demons most likely. Then there was light and he did his best to shrink out of sight by flattening himself against the outcropping and the rock wall.
"You two, see if you can find what's left of him."
It was the demon child from before and Dean had the unpleasant realization that she was probably talking about him. But why would she care about what happened to him? Whatever it was, he desperately hoped that it wasn't anything too special or urgent as higher ground or not, he was still in deep shit if it was and she persisted in searching for him until she found him.
"I promised the pretty little angel that I'd send him a piece of his precious little human pet."
The words chilled Dean to his core, horror rising within him as he realized what just had to be going through his lover's head right at this very moment. It also made him fear for Castiel's current condition as there was absolutely no way that his angel would have let the demon girl go easily after her making that kind of threat against him. Absolutely no fucking way, which mean that something must have happened to his lover even if it wasn't so bad that Castiel wouldn't be able to receive the twisted gift that she wished to send him. Irrationally he petted the stone beneath his hand, now having yet another reason to be grateful for it. He didn't even want to contemplate what his angel would have done if the demon had been able to do as she'd wanted to.
"And I would so hate to disappoint him."
Her laughter was insane, all dark and twisted, and Dean didn't even want to know how on Earth she managed to make that sound given the young vocal chords she currently possessed.
"The rest of you, come with me. We need to go find Daddy's shiny, little present."
The similarities between her and Lilith as she'd been in a little girl's body were striking and made Dean feel more than a bit sick. What was it with certain demons and little kids? Knowing an adult was possessed was bad enough, but a child? It was almost too horrible to contemplate and he really wished that he didn't ever have any opportunities to do so, much less so damn often. And the worst thing was that, since he'd already determined that he'd kill her for what she'd put his lover through, that he would probably be the one who would now have to kill that poor little girl. Yeah, he knew that it would be nothing short of a blessing for her if the poor girl was still alive, but that didn't make it much better for him. If at all possible he'd try to save her instead, but it wasn't often that a demon gave him a chance to do so these days.
The sounds of several people moving off did fill Dean with relief on some level. From the demon girl's words, he knew that they had yet to find the artifact that they'd come here to get and so long as that was the case, then he still had a chance to thwart their efforts. It meant that he still had a chance to make all of this pain and misery worth it. Well, if he could elude discovery, then somehow find the energy to scale the wall down and then follow her posse. Not to mention anything about then somehow taking out what had sounded like seven or eight demons.
So, a piece of cake. No problem at all.
Why couldn't things ever be easy? Was that really too much to ask for?
"I don't see anything here, do you?"
This voice was male, adult thankfully, and bored sounding, a definite good thing in Dean's opinion. A bored demon was a careless demon and a careless demon was exactly what he wanted just now. Exactly what he wanted.
"No, but he must be down here somewhere," the second voice was also male, but younger sounding, a teenager perhaps? "Right?"
A nasty laugh. "Not at all. He could have panicked and twisted himself into the wall on his way down, resulting in nothing more than a red smear on the rock somewhere up there."
"Oh."
"Or perhaps he got his brains splattered out on some ledge or rock carving, like those crazy ones lining the corridors above."
Dean gagged at the graphic images those words conjured, unable to help but wonder if that wasn't exactly what Castiel was picturing even right this very moment.
"True. So what do we do?"
"We join the others and tell her it was done."
"Won't she know?"
"How could she? Besides it's not like she'll ever see that particular angel again."
"I don't know."
"What, you want to continue searching out here while they're finding the chalice? You heard what father said, he'll reward whoever manages to find it and bring it to him."
"Like you could do that with her present."
"Maybe she'll be looking in the wrong place."
A pause. "You think that's possible?"
"She doesn't have any more clue where it is than we do."
"Let's go."
Despite the retreat of the echoing footsteps, telling Dean that the two demons really had given up on their assignment, the light remained, flickering against the rock and casting shifting shadows onto the wall next to him. He waited five more minutes to be absolutely sure that he really was alone before slowly raising himself up onto an elbow so that he could see over the rim of the outcropping. There was a torch burning next to what appeared to be a passageway far down below him and he tried to decide if it was a blessing or a curse. Yes, it was true that the light it provided would allow him to make the climb down far faster and easier than if it weren't there, but it would also leave him completely exposed if any of the demons returned or others arrived. Not that there was much he could do about it either way, so he might as well make the most of it and hope that no one came back or arrived.
Decision made, Dean painfully pulled himself further upright and then hugged the rock as he followed the outcropping as far as he could, his water gun and shotgun at his back. At the end of the outcropping things got more difficult, but he persevered and slowly- painfully- started the real climb down, thinking of Castiel and the chalice the whole way. Those two things allowed him to focus and ignore the pain as much as possible. Besides, as soon as he managed to get back to his lover the pain would be gone, healed just as soon as his angel realized that he was injured.
All he needed to do was find a way back to Castiel.
He snorted at the thought. That was definitely easier said than done, but Dean had learned long ago to come up with clear, concise goals when seriously injured as it made it easier to focus on attaining them instead of letting the pain get to him instead. So, goal number one, get to the bottom of this freaking shaft safely. Goal number two was to get this chalice from the demons. And goal number three was to get back to the angels. His lover was the most preferable, but any of the angels he'd been with would do as they'd be able to zap him to Castiel or at the very least be able to contact his lover and let Castiel know that he was alright. And they'd be able to heal him as well, at which point he'd be able to get back to kicking some serious demonic ass.
Now he just had to follow through on those goals.
See, no problem at all.
Really.
A.N.: Anyone know what's been up with LJ the past two days and why it's been down whenever I wanted to access it?
Chapter 126
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 2,977
Summary: Dean cried out as he fell into the dark abyss, not sure if he was suddenly going to hit the ground or just keep on falling.
PAST
Dean cried out as he fell into the dark abyss, not sure if he was suddenly going to hit the ground or just keep on falling. The pitch black closed in all around him as the light from above vanished and he was no longer sure if he was falling feet first or head first. He reached out desperately for anything that could break his fall, half afraid that he'd get a hand caught on something only to have it ripped right off or to be smacked into the side of the seemingly endless pit he was in.
Then, after an eternity and with a clatter that seemed deafeningly loud in the otherwise deathly silence, his shotgun caught on something and the next thing Dean knew he was jerked backwards by the shoulder harness he'd clipped it to. The suddenness of the break in momentum was breathtaking and he felt at least two of his ribs break and give way before he was sliding sideways, slipping out of the harness. With a cry of pain and terror, he desperately reached out and grabbed hold of the harness, all but praying that whatever his shotgun was caught on would hold and not give way beneath his weight.
His ribs were screaming their protest, causing pain to lance through him, but Dean refused to let go of his grip on the harness. God only knew how much further down the ground was and he had absolutely no intention of finding out the hard way only to end up nothing more than a red smear across the rock below. Sheer force of will and the look on his lover's face just before he'd gone over the edge let him pull himself back up enough to sling his right arm through the harness, his heart in his throat every time the material groaned ominously. For once he cursed the constant workouts that kept him in shape as his muscle mass was seriously adding to his weight now in a way that he could ill afford even if it was what was allowing him to try and save himself at the same time. Now there was a catch twenty-two if he'd ever heard of one.
As soon as he was sure that he wouldn't lose his grip, Dean dared to release the harness with his left hand and fumbled for the lighter that he always carried in his pocket. It took a bit of effort as it was in the wrong pocket for the hand he was using, but in the end he managed to get it, the ominous creaking of his shotgun harness spurring him on.
The first thing that Dean saw when he turned on the lighter was a rock wall mere inches from his face. It sent a thrill of relief through him, both at no longer being completely surrounded by darkness but also at the fact that the rock wasn't so smooth as to be unscalable. True, it wasn't the best surface for climbing he'd ever seen, but he'd take it over nothing even if it would be hell on his broken ribs. Part of him didn't want to look up, to just focus on the task at hand, but he knew that he had to see how much time he had here, or rather how much time he might not have.
A quick glance up showed Dean that his shotgun was unlikely to break free as it had lodged itself into an outcropping and lay behind a lip of rock. The harness, however, was a different matter altogether. The way it moved slightly back and forth over the rock, straining to hold his weight was likely to fray away at the material sooner rather than later and send him plunging on down to whatever lay below, so he couldn't just hang here either. Not that he'd really want to, but still the fact remained. A quick glance over his shoulder showed no hint of the other side of whatever shaft he'd fallen down and he swallowed thickly. It was like he'd fallen into space, looking that way with nothing but darkness even with a light.
Dean had never been one to be claustrophobic, but it still sent a shiver down his spine and he quickly looked forward again, studying the rock face. He wasn't particularly thrilled about looking down next as he was a little afraid of being greeted by nothing more than inky blackness signaling another seemingly bottomless drop, but he knew that he really had to. After all, how stupid would he feel if he scaled part of the wall only to discover later that he was only a ten foot drop off the ground?
Not wanting to do that, Dean braced himself and had a quick look down. What he saw made him incredibly grateful for the outcropping as not only could he just, faintly, make out the ground below, but it was littered with all kinds of sharp looking boulders and smaller rocks. He'd definitely have died on impact if he'd still been going at full velocity. The image that conjured made him pull a face before he turned his attention back to the wall. Naturally, given his luck lately, there was nothing that looked promising directly below him. The outcropping on which his shotgun was wedged, though, extended further to the left and sloped downwards lightly leading to a crevice in which he might be able to get some foot and handholds that would allow him to start moving downwards.
It was his best option and would allow him to retrieve his shotgun even if it meant that he'd have to go up before he could start to go down. Dean sighed, wishing he could just abandon the damn thing, but the odds were far too great that he'd need it again in order to get out of this hell hole. He snorted, his current surroundings gave a whole new meaning to that particular turn of phrase. And the best part of this whole situation? His light source was a damn lighter, which meant that if he didn't keep his finger on the depressor, it would go out and he couldn't climb and keep his lighter on, even if he weren't already injured. Muttering darkly about demons and their parentage, he planned his first set of moves before letting the lighter extinguish and putting it between his teeth.
With his now free hand, Dean reached out towards the first handhold he'd decided upon before daring to relinquish his death grip on the shotgun harness. Secure enough for the moment, he brought his legs forward and scrabbled for purchase. Once that was achieved he looped the harness around his chest once more as a crude safety net (if a rib breaking one) and hoped to hell that he wouldn't have to use it again. He then braced himself and reached upwards, drawing in a sharp breath as pain flared in his side. Maybe it wasn't totally bad that he couldn't see a damn thing as now at least he wouldn't have to deal with dark spots dancing before his eyes.
The pain when he let go with his good hand was excruciating and Dean forced himself to remember that he'd dealt with far, far, far worse before and survived. The memories of Hell were, for once, helpful and allowed him to work his way up to the outcropping on which his shotgun lay, wedged in among the sharp rocks. In addition to having been, quite literally, lifesaving, the outcropping proved to be a blessing for his ribs as he was able to stretch out on it- albeit awkwardly and uncomfortably- and rest his screaming ribs while he worked his harness and shotgun free.
A close inspection of the harness had Dean wincing before he shutdown thoughts of how close it had been. It hadn't happened and so it didn't bear thinking about, it was as simple as that, period. Wanting to make the most of the little break that he had before he had to start the climb down, he let the lighter go out and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get an accurate assessment of his body's condition in addition to the broken ribs that he already knew more than enough about. There were bruises coming up from where he'd hit the anti-angel barrier and landed on the floor before it had started to give way. Bruises he could deal with though he was silently thankful that Castiel had been taking care of his earlier ones whenever his angel'd had a chance to do so during the battle even if he'd protested it at the time.
Crap, thoughts of his lover allowed everything that Dean had been doing his best to avoid thinking about come flooding in. God, he really didn't want to think about what Castiel was going through right now, not after the way his angel had looked and sounded like before he'd fallen. He never, ever, wanted to hear his lover sound like that again. Ever. And he'd do everything in his power to prevent a recurrence if at all possible, even if it meant being more careful when he'd rather just get things done. Castiel deserved that. Just like his lover deserved to be put out of his misery as soon as possible too.
The thought had Dean raising his lighter and starting to flick it before a whisper of noise made him freeze. With the angel barrier, odds were that whatever had made the sound wasn't a friend, so he kept as quiet as possible as he strained for any indication of what had caused the noise in the first place. For a moment there was nothing and then suddenly there were the sounds of several people moving around down below, newly arrived demons most likely. Then there was light and he did his best to shrink out of sight by flattening himself against the outcropping and the rock wall.
"You two, see if you can find what's left of him."
It was the demon child from before and Dean had the unpleasant realization that she was probably talking about him. But why would she care about what happened to him? Whatever it was, he desperately hoped that it wasn't anything too special or urgent as higher ground or not, he was still in deep shit if it was and she persisted in searching for him until she found him.
"I promised the pretty little angel that I'd send him a piece of his precious little human pet."
The words chilled Dean to his core, horror rising within him as he realized what just had to be going through his lover's head right at this very moment. It also made him fear for Castiel's current condition as there was absolutely no way that his angel would have let the demon girl go easily after her making that kind of threat against him. Absolutely no fucking way, which mean that something must have happened to his lover even if it wasn't so bad that Castiel wouldn't be able to receive the twisted gift that she wished to send him. Irrationally he petted the stone beneath his hand, now having yet another reason to be grateful for it. He didn't even want to contemplate what his angel would have done if the demon had been able to do as she'd wanted to.
"And I would so hate to disappoint him."
Her laughter was insane, all dark and twisted, and Dean didn't even want to know how on Earth she managed to make that sound given the young vocal chords she currently possessed.
"The rest of you, come with me. We need to go find Daddy's shiny, little present."
The similarities between her and Lilith as she'd been in a little girl's body were striking and made Dean feel more than a bit sick. What was it with certain demons and little kids? Knowing an adult was possessed was bad enough, but a child? It was almost too horrible to contemplate and he really wished that he didn't ever have any opportunities to do so, much less so damn often. And the worst thing was that, since he'd already determined that he'd kill her for what she'd put his lover through, that he would probably be the one who would now have to kill that poor little girl. Yeah, he knew that it would be nothing short of a blessing for her if the poor girl was still alive, but that didn't make it much better for him. If at all possible he'd try to save her instead, but it wasn't often that a demon gave him a chance to do so these days.
The sounds of several people moving off did fill Dean with relief on some level. From the demon girl's words, he knew that they had yet to find the artifact that they'd come here to get and so long as that was the case, then he still had a chance to thwart their efforts. It meant that he still had a chance to make all of this pain and misery worth it. Well, if he could elude discovery, then somehow find the energy to scale the wall down and then follow her posse. Not to mention anything about then somehow taking out what had sounded like seven or eight demons.
So, a piece of cake. No problem at all.
Why couldn't things ever be easy? Was that really too much to ask for?
"I don't see anything here, do you?"
This voice was male, adult thankfully, and bored sounding, a definite good thing in Dean's opinion. A bored demon was a careless demon and a careless demon was exactly what he wanted just now. Exactly what he wanted.
"No, but he must be down here somewhere," the second voice was also male, but younger sounding, a teenager perhaps? "Right?"
A nasty laugh. "Not at all. He could have panicked and twisted himself into the wall on his way down, resulting in nothing more than a red smear on the rock somewhere up there."
"Oh."
"Or perhaps he got his brains splattered out on some ledge or rock carving, like those crazy ones lining the corridors above."
Dean gagged at the graphic images those words conjured, unable to help but wonder if that wasn't exactly what Castiel was picturing even right this very moment.
"True. So what do we do?"
"We join the others and tell her it was done."
"Won't she know?"
"How could she? Besides it's not like she'll ever see that particular angel again."
"I don't know."
"What, you want to continue searching out here while they're finding the chalice? You heard what father said, he'll reward whoever manages to find it and bring it to him."
"Like you could do that with her present."
"Maybe she'll be looking in the wrong place."
A pause. "You think that's possible?"
"She doesn't have any more clue where it is than we do."
"Let's go."
Despite the retreat of the echoing footsteps, telling Dean that the two demons really had given up on their assignment, the light remained, flickering against the rock and casting shifting shadows onto the wall next to him. He waited five more minutes to be absolutely sure that he really was alone before slowly raising himself up onto an elbow so that he could see over the rim of the outcropping. There was a torch burning next to what appeared to be a passageway far down below him and he tried to decide if it was a blessing or a curse. Yes, it was true that the light it provided would allow him to make the climb down far faster and easier than if it weren't there, but it would also leave him completely exposed if any of the demons returned or others arrived. Not that there was much he could do about it either way, so he might as well make the most of it and hope that no one came back or arrived.
Decision made, Dean painfully pulled himself further upright and then hugged the rock as he followed the outcropping as far as he could, his water gun and shotgun at his back. At the end of the outcropping things got more difficult, but he persevered and slowly- painfully- started the real climb down, thinking of Castiel and the chalice the whole way. Those two things allowed him to focus and ignore the pain as much as possible. Besides, as soon as he managed to get back to his lover the pain would be gone, healed just as soon as his angel realized that he was injured.
All he needed to do was find a way back to Castiel.
He snorted at the thought. That was definitely easier said than done, but Dean had learned long ago to come up with clear, concise goals when seriously injured as it made it easier to focus on attaining them instead of letting the pain get to him instead. So, goal number one, get to the bottom of this freaking shaft safely. Goal number two was to get this chalice from the demons. And goal number three was to get back to the angels. His lover was the most preferable, but any of the angels he'd been with would do as they'd be able to zap him to Castiel or at the very least be able to contact his lover and let Castiel know that he was alright. And they'd be able to heal him as well, at which point he'd be able to get back to kicking some serious demonic ass.
Now he just had to follow through on those goals.
See, no problem at all.
Really.
A.N.: Anyone know what's been up with LJ the past two days and why it's been down whenever I wanted to access it?
Chapter 126