Hope (1/1)
Title: Hope
Characters: Dean Winchester, Alastiar, Castiel
Pairing: Destiel (sort of)
Rating: T
Word Count: 430
Summary: For the first time in forty years, Dean felt hope.
Dean had been in the pits of Hell for forty years when the demons grew uneasy. As far as he could tell, something was happening. Something big. But he kept at his job, just like always. Every soul that was put before him was flayed like a fish, chopped into bits and brought near to death before they were healed and Dean started it all over again. He kept at it and kept at it until Alastair stopped him.
“He’s coming for you,” the demon growled and if he saw Dean’s confusion, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead of letting Dean, who still had the bloodied machete clenched in his fist, get back to his work, he grabbed him up and took off into Hell. “He will never find you. I’m not letting you leave here.” It was a promise that, despite what Dean had been through, what he had done to those souls and how changed he thought he was, still made him shiver.
Alastair roughly deposited Dean in an empty cell and slammed the door closed behind him. Empty cells were rare here but Dean was in one and he knew there was no way he was getting out anytime soon. Maybe he would be there for another forty years but he figured this was better than what he had been doing. He still didn’t understand what was going on. Alastair hadn’t said a word since he had vehemently sworn that Dean was never leaving Hell.
Instead of shouting for Alastair to come back like he wanted to, Dean sank to the ground in a corner of the cell. Who knows how long he sat there. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with time in the abyss. It was quiet for a while but then Dean could hear the shouting. Which wasn’t unusual down here but this was different. Even knowing this, Dean couldn’t bring himself to stand. Apparently, not having a soul laid out before him just waiting to be torn to shreds left him without will to move. Whoever it was that was supposedly coming for him would find him eventually, regardless of his movements.
Dean wasn’t sure who or what he was expecting to come for him. Maybe Lucifer himself. But he definitely wasn’t expecting this. He didn’t know what it was; just that it was undeniably non-human. Maybe he should have been terrified of this being who shone with a light so bright that it hurt Dean to look at it. He wasn’t though.
For the first time in forty years, Dean felt hope.