The Dream I Dreamed (A Dean Winchester Love Story)

Chapter 33: So Different From this Hell I'm Living

Chapter 33 So Different From this Hell I'm Living

"Cas?" Hope whispered, peeling her eyes open a crack. She was laying in her and Dean's bed, blankets piled on top of her.

"Right here." Castiel assured her, squeezing her fingers.

Hope took in the sight of her brother, sitting beside her bed, his expression worried and compassionate. Tears pricked in her eyes as she remembered her encounter with Dean; his cold, black eyes, his cruel smile, the way he seemed to enjoy her pain.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, but they came anyway, rolling in hot streams down her cheeks. She squeezed Cas' hand.

The angel wrapped his arms around her, pulling her up into his chest. She clutched his shirt, letting her tears soak into the smooth material. Castiel rubbed her back gently as she sobbed into his shoulder. "I know." He whispered, a tear squeezing its way out of his own eye, making his voice thick. "I know."

After a few minutes, Hope was able to control her tears. She waited until her breathing was even again to speak. "I knew he was...you know. I should've been prepared for it. But...his eyes were so...empty. He kept saying he didn't care, and I know it's not him, not really, but still..."

"It hurts." Cas supplied.

"Yeah." Hope whispered.

"Just thinking about him like that..." He shook his head, "I can't imagine seeing him so...so..."

"Not himself."

Castiel nodded. "How are you feeling?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I'm okay." Hope told him. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Cas,"

"Hope, we've been over this." He insisted. "I'm going to heal you until...until I can't anymore."

"You mean until you die." Hope said. "If you're going to kill yourself to save me you can at least admit it."

"Hope,"

"No. You know what? No. Why do you get to decide whose life is worth more, mine or yours?"

"Dean would want-"

"No! No, he wouldn't." Hope took a deep breath. "Right now he doesn't care either way, but Cas, I swear to you, if he were here, really here, right now, he would not want you to do this. He would find another way."

Cas just shook his head. "I can't look him in the eyes and tell him that you died because I didn't heal you."

"You won't have to." Hope assured him, taking his hand in hers. "We're going to get him back, okay? And when we do, we'll work this out together. We just have to both stay alive until then, okay?" She gave him a small smile.

Cas tried to return it. "Okay." He took a deep breath. "Sam and Crowley went to find him." He told her. "Crowley thinks he knows where he went."

"How?" Hope asked, grateful for the shift in topics.

"Apparently, Dean promised to kill Cain."

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"You're sure this is the place?" Sam asked Crowley. They stood outside a small farmhouse on the coast of Toulon, France.

"Yes. I do my research, Moose. This is where Cain's lovely Colette lived before they met. And I'm willing to bet the moon that this is where Cain is hiding now."

"What makes you so sure Dean will show?" Sam protested. "That comment about a promise could have meant anything."

Crowley sighed. "The Mark. It makes him want to kill. More than that; it makes him need to. And a kill this large, this powerful...Squirrel wouldn't miss it for the world."

Sam took a deep breath. "All right. Here we go."

Sam and Crowley crept into the house. It was dark and empty; no sign of life on the main floor, so they climbed up the stairs as silently as possible.

They knew they couldn't kill Dean, even if they wanted to, so the plan was to knock him out using an old--and very powerful--Men of Letters spell. Hopefully it would keep Dean unconscious long enough to get the warded handcuffs on him. Then Crowley would zap all three of them back to the bunker where they could stow Dean in the dungeon while they performed the purification ritual. There were a lot of 'hopefully's in it, but it was the best they could come up with.

Upstairs, a reddish glow seeped from under a closed door. Sam crept up to it, Crowley hanging behind him. He held up three fingers, counting down silently. When he reached zero, he threw himself against the door. It flew open, revealing a bedroom, dimly lit by a small lamp and the glow of the Mark of Cain on Dean's arm as he cleaned blood from the First Blade, his back to them.

"Visitors!" he chuckled, shifting to the side so they could see Cain's body sprawled in front of him. "You just missed Cain. Too bad. Good to see you, Sammy." He turned around, a smirk on his lips, his eyes solid black.

As soon as Dean was facing him, Sam pulled a handful of powder out of his pocket and blew it into his brother's face. "Somnum!" Dean's eyes flickered shut and he went limp, falling to the ground. Sam caught him, wrapping his brother's arm around his shoulder to hold his unconscious form up. "Let's go." He said to Crowley.

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When they got back to the bunker, Sam fastened the warded handcuffs on Dean's wrists and chained him to a chair in the metal Devil's Trap in the dungeon. Then he went back upstairs to check on Hope.

"We found him." Sam told her and Cas when he came into the room. They both smiled, relief filling their expressions. "I'm going to start the ritual now, if you want to come."

"Not so fast, Moose." Crowley's voice came from the door.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Your brother isn't a regular demon. He's a Knight of Hell. Human blood isn't going to do the trick."

"You said the ritual would work." Sam hissed.

Crowley nodded. "And it will. I didn't lie, Moose. But it has to be angel blood. Extra evil requires extra purity to cleanse, I suppose."

"Cas?" Sam asked.

The angel nodded. "I'll do it."

"It won't be easy." Crowley warned. "Especially with your stolen Grace. There is no guarantee that you will survive. In fact, you probably won't."

Hope started to speak up. "I--"

"No." Sam and Castiel interrupted her at the same time.

"I'll do it." Cas repeated.

Sam nodded, his eyes red-rimmed and wet. He placed a hand on the angel's shoulder. "Thank you."

Castiel nodded. "Let's do this."

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All four of them went down to the dungeon for the ritual. When they arrived, they found the Devil's Trap empty, the chains and handcuffs left on the concrete floor. A note lay in the seat of the chair Dean had been in just minutes earlier. Nice try.

Sam crumpled it up and threw it against the wall. "Damn it!" he cried.

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They stomped up the stairs. When they came into the main room of the bunker, they were greeted by the smell of pizza and a soft, proper voice. "Looks like you four have a demon on the loose." Death sat at the table, a plate of sausage pizza spread before him. "Perhaps I can help."