tracy_loo_who | Fic: And I Will Walk On Water (14/18)

Title: And I Will Walk On Water (14/18)
Characters: Dean and Castiel, Sam, Jimmy, Michael
Rating: R
Warnings: Some descriptions of torture and non-con.
Word Count: ~5,000
Notes: You guys should've seen the massive email

ibroketuesday sent me about all the things that were wrong with this chapter. XD Hope it works now..
Summary: Castiel is in Hell and Dean is more or less there too.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Dean woke with a headache and a groan, and the first thing he saw was a pair of concerned blue eyes looming over him. "Cas!" he breathed, though it was more of a croak because that was also the moment in which he remembered that the last time he'd seen those eyes, they'd been filled with terror. He remembered all of it -- Lucifer, the trap, Castiel trying to save them but getting himself thrown into Hell instead because Dean had chosen Sam over him, Castiel's inhuman scream -- oh god, Cas. Dean was frantic with hope as he looked up at him, but now he could see that even though those were Castiel's eyes and that was Castiel's face pulled into a small frown, it wasn't Castiel at all. There was something entirely unfamiliar about him. "Jimmy," he said thickly, feeling his heart sink.

"Yeah," Jimmy said, and his voice was higher than what Dean was used to. He had to close his eyes briefly against the world, and against the way Jimmy asked in that wrong voice, "How're you feeling?"

When Dean opened his eyes again, he looked past Jimmy, at the tall stalks of corn framing him. He had no idea where they were or how they'd gotten there, but it seemed pretty clear that at least he and Jimmy had managed to escape. Dean pushed himself up to his elbows so he could scan the cornfield around them, but they were alone. His heart sank further. "Where's Sam?"

"He's alright," Jimmy rushed to assure him. "Off trying to find us a car."

Dean didn't really get a chance to feel too relieved. "Where are we, anyway? And how did we get here?" His headache was beginning to clear a little, and Jimmy reached out to help him as he sat up, one hand on his arm and another lightly touching his back. Dean didn't need it, but he didn't comment.

"No clue on the first count," Jimmy replied with a shrug, which was such a human gesture that Dean sort of hated seeing him do it. "As for how we got here, I think Cas managed to push us out of there right before..." He trailed off, and Dean had to close his eyes again.

So Castiel had managed to save them after all. It was more than Dean deserved, that was for sure, after he'd effectively sentenced Castiel to--

Jimmy cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Anyway, you've been out for maybe four hours."

Dean's eyes snapped open and he choked a little on the words, "Four hours?" It didn't take long to do the mental math. "That's twenty days in Hell!" Dean searched Jimmy's grave expression, mouth slack and hoping wildly that Jimmy would tell him he was wrong, somehow, by some miracle, but Jimmy was just a regular guy, and there was no angel inside him to reassure Dean now, thanks to Dean himself.

He felt sick. Castiel had been in Hell for twenty fucking days already, and Dean knew exactly what they'd have done to him in all that time. What they were still doing to him even as he and Jimmy sat here talking. It didn't matter that Castiel wasn't human and didn't have a body, probably, because Dean hadn't had a real body either, down there. That hadn't made it feel any less real when they'd peeled away his nails and sliced his fingertips into ribbons, or when they'd skinned off his face, layer by layer until they'd hit bone, or when they'd tossed him into a tank of mild acid and let him drown in it, unable to get away from the way it ate slowly at his body no matter how hard he'd tried to swim.

For Castiel, though, that wouldn't be the worst part. They had to know about what he'd suffered already, so of course they'd exploit that weakness. Dean thought of his sweet, loyal Cas who used to flinch away in panic at even the lightest touch, being held down by a dozen hands, flailing blindly and screaming, while a gang of demons dug extra holes into his body so they wouldn't have to take turns raping him--

Dean's eyes were getting wet as he sat there and he was having trouble breathing. He got up and paced, ignoring Jimmy's tight, unhappy, "Dean," and wanting to crawl out of his skin. Castiel had saved him from that, and then he'd saved Sam from it too, and now, as a direct result, he was the one who was down there instead and it was happening to him. It had been happening for twenty days already, and Dean had just left him to it, like Dean had left him in Derek's hands after he'd rebelled for him.

This time, though, Dean was going to do things differently. "Cas," he murmured fiercely, "I don't know if you can still here me, but I'm gonna get you out, okay? I swear, I'm not gonna leave you there this time, I swear it."

He whirled around to look at Jimmy as an idea struck him. "Michael could do it, easy." Even as he said it, Dean could feel the relief and hope wash over him. Michael had been sorry about hurting Castiel, and he'd burnt the demon blood out of Sam when he'd asked, so all Dean had to do was call him down and ask him for this favor, and Castiel would be saved.

"He sounds like our best bet," Jimmy agreed.

So Dean looked up at the sky and yelled Michael's name. Fifteen minutes later, when Sam came back to tell them he had a car parked by the edge of the cornfield, Dean was still yelling.

"Dean, we gotta go," Sam said.

He tried to reach for Dean's arm to make him stop yelling, but Dean brushed him off. "No, we gotta wait for Michael."

"We're exposed out here," Sam insisted. "Come on, I checked, we're only about an hour away from Bobby's--"

"That's five days in Hell, Sam! Do you know how much they could do to him in five days? We don't have time to go to Bobby's!"

"Dean," Sam began in his most reasonable tone, but Dean didn't want to hear it. When Sam came at him again, he shoved him away again.

"No. I'm not going anywhere until Michael gets his prissy ass down to Hell."

Sam made an impatient noise. "You still have the knife on you, I think, but we dropped everything else back there. Do you really wanna get caught out here with our pants down?"

"I don't care."

"And I suppose you also don't care that yelling Michael down could bring Zachariah too? Out here where there aren't any angel wards?"

Dean practically yelled at his brother, "No, I don't!" And then he yelled for Michael again, but as before, he was met with silence.

Eventually, Sam tried again. "Look, Cas was probably aiming for Bobby's when he sent us out here. I think he wanted us to go there."

"And right now he wants to get out of Hell!" Dean snapped.

"It's not like Michael wouldn't be able to find us if we were driving," Sam pointed out.

Dean couldn't deal with logic right now, not on top of everything else. "Look, you go to Bobby's, I'm staying here."

Sam looked incredulous. "I am not gonna leave you here."

"Then shut the fuck up or help me. Michael seemed to like you better, come on, maybe he'll listen if you try?" Dean's voice took a pleading turn at the end, and Sam finally relented with a frustrated sigh.

They yelled for the next four hours, long past nightfall. Jimmy chipped in too, only to discover that it didn't make a damn bit of difference that he was an angel's vessel, apparently. They even called Chuck, but he hadn't had any visions past Sam and Dean waking up in the cornfield, and he was much too far away for them to go over there and threaten his life. So all they could do was keep at it, in the end, and hope that the next yell would finally bring them an archangel.

Dean counted every minute of those four hours in Hell time. Whenever he wasn't screaming himself hoarse, he was thinking hard at Castiel, begging him to hang in there and wait for him, promising over and over again that he'd get Castiel out even if it killed him, apologizing for taking so long and for putting him there in the first place. Dean's frantic prayers weren't coherent in the least, but he thought maybe there was a tiny chance that Castiel could hear him, even in Hell, and that was all that mattered. Dean would have done almost anything for the chance to make sure that Castiel wasn't feeling abandoned.

When Michael finally appeared, his irritation flattened all the corn around them and made a crop circle of what looked like the entire damn field. It didn't hold a candle against Dean's irritation. He would have stabbed the fucker again but for the bone-melting relief the sight of the archangel also brought. "What the fuck took you so long?" was the first thing he said.

Michael narrowed his eyes and somehow managed to glare down his nose at Dean even though he was the shorter of the two. "Castiel may have indulged your every whim, but you've grown far too arrogant if you think it's my place to do the same just because he isn't able to." His voice had a thunderous quality, and it made Jimmy try to move behind Dean inconspicuously. Even Sam seemed nervous where he stood. Dean was the only one who wasn't afraid, for a change.

"So you know about Castiel getting sent to Hell, then. Please tell me you're just late because you've been busy getting him out," he said even though he knew it was too much to hope for.

He was right. Michael pursed his lips briefly before saying, "It's not my job to fetch anyone from Hell."

His stubborn tone made the relief Dean felt begin to turn into something heavy that settled in the pit of his stomach, but he shoved it down because this absolutely had to work and demanded, "Do you even know what they're doing to him down there?"

"Yes."

Dean gaped, and his stomach churned. "Yes? That's it? And you're just gonna sit back and let it happen because, what, Zach's enjoying the show too much and you couldn't possibly ruin his fun?"

Michael's eyes narrowed for a moment and he looked like he might argue, but in the end, he only frowned faintly and repeated, "Yes." His irritation had mostly evaporated, to be replaced by something Dean couldn't really be bothered to try to decipher at the moment.

"Michael," Sam interrupted with a warning hand on Dean's arm before he could do any of the million things flashing through his head. "If there's any way you can bring him back, please consider it."

The archangel turned his frown on Sam, who swallowed visibly. "I've already done you a favour," he pointed out.

"This is for Cas!" Dean pleaded. He'd moved beyond incredulous anger and was just desperate now. "You said you were sorry."

For a moment Michael hesitated and his gaze flickered downward, and then he said, much more softly, "I am."

Then he was gone, and Dean's stomach finally dropped. They'd wasted over four hours on that yellow-bellied son of a motherfucking worm, and meanwhile it had been another twenty days or more for Castiel. Dean didn't snarl or fume; he simply stood there, eyes wandering around blankly and completely at a loss. He'd been so sure it would work -- had put all his eggs in this one basket and hadn't even considered the possibility that it might fail -- and now he had nothing. And Castiel was still in Hell.

It was Sam who took him gently by the arm and steered him in the direction of the car.

***

By unspoken agreement, Sam drove. Dean sat in the passenger seat and watched the lights go by without seeing any of them. He resumed his silent prayers to Castiel and told him about Michael being a piece of scum shit, but kept promising that he'd find another way. He had to.

Jimmy didn't say a thing during the entire drive, which was just as well because his voice was all wrong, and even Sam left Dean to his thoughts, though his silence was much more tense and he exuded guilt almost as much as Dean did. Dean didn't blame him for what had happened, of course; none of it had been Sam's fault to begin with, and he hadn't made Dean choose him over Castiel. Dean didn't even know how much he blamed himself, because if he had to do it all over again, he'd make the same choice. It couldn't be any other way.

What gutted him was that Castiel deserved better. He deserved a friend who'd put him first and return his devotion, not someone who'd beg for his help and then throw him to demons who'd already broken and traumatized him once. Dean could only pray they hadn't broken him a second time, but he knew they could do a lot worse to him in Hell than they'd dared to do on Earth, because in Hell, it only took a thought to give him a brand new body.

Dean also knew, now, what he had to do, and even though he'd ended up regretting it the first time he'd sold his soul, he couldn't not do it again because it was the only ticket out of Hell he could give Castiel. It wasn't like there was another apocalypse to set in motion, and with no seals to break, they might not bother making Dean pick up a scalpel this time. Actually, maybe that was what he was most terrified of -- not being given a chance to escape that eternal agony -- but it didn't matter. Nothing was at stake here other than Dean himself, and better him than Castiel, who deserved it least of all.

It seemed like Sam knew what he was thinking. When they finally pulled up in front of Bobby's house, Sam cut the engine but didn't move to get out. "Look, I know what you're going through," he said carefully. "I did this for four months, remember? And I tried everything. Everything. In the end, nothing worked, and I had to move on anyway, but it was kind of too late. I'd already done things -- desperate things -- that I never should have done, things that started me down the road to ruining myself, and you know how that turned out." He paused to take a deep breath. "So I guess what I'm trying to say is, I know how much the guilt is tearing you apart, trust me on that, I know. And I'm feeling it too, but I also know that compromising yourself isn't the way to go. Moving on may be the last thing you want to do right now, but if you don't, it won't end well and you'll only regret it later. I mean, you already sort of know that, right? You should've moved on way back when I first died."

Dean listened to every word and didn't make a sound, but when Sam finished speaking, his lip curled. "You're wrong, Sam," he said, voice hard. "You don't know what it's like for me right now, because you didn't know then what was going on down there. And you still don't. Well, I do know, so don't you dare tell me to move on."

Then he got out of the car, slammed the door shut, and stalked up to Bobby's house. He tried not to look at the markings still covering it because they reminded him of Castiel, but then again, it wasn't like he'd been thinking about anyone else for over five hours now.

***

Dean didn't have a choice. He drugged both Sam and Bobby.

They'd been too suspicious, and keeping too close of an eye on him, so now they were both passed out over the table. Dean had no idea where Jimmy had gone, but he was in the house somewhere, and he was safe, so Dean didn't really care.

He grabbed everything he'd need, stood and gazed at Sam and Bobby for a long moment, and then drove toward the nearest crossroad. Twice, he picked up his phone and dialed Sam's number, but twice, he closed it with a snap before Sam's phone started ringing on the other end. What could he say? Sorry seemed so empty, but there was nothing else. Dean gritted his teeth, flipped open his phone a third time, and dialed again.

This time, he left Sam a message. "Hi, Sammy," he said softly, part of him aching with the knowledge that he might not ever see him again. He wouldn't get a year this time; a bona fide angel -- even one who'd been cut off from Heaven -- had to cost him more than Sam's soul had. So, maybe this was it. "I'm sorry. I really, really am, but I have to do this. Maybe one day you'll understand--" He stopped to shake his head. "Actually, scratch that, I hope you never have to understand. But still, go easy on Cas when he gets out, okay? It's not his fault. I don't know how messed up he'll be, but I hope you guys will look after each other. Hell, maybe you and he can even save the world together. Sorry I can't be there to help." There was a long pause, and then he finished, "Bye, Sammy." His eyes were prickling again by the time he closed his phone, but he told himself Sam would be okay. He would move on, just like he'd been telling Dean to.

Dean wiped roughly at his eyes and drove on.

***

Waiting for the crossroads demon was much more nerve-wracking when Dean knew exactly what he was getting himself into, but every time he so much as came close to thinking about getting cold feet, he thought of Castiel instead, and the broken, mindless way he'd once begged Dean to kill him. They probably wouldn't even give him that chance to beg, in Hell, if he was always choking on blood and semen, or maybe even boiling oil or acid when they wanted to switch things up. The thought drove Dean mad and made him reckless, and when the demon finally arrived wearing a lithe guy in his late twenties, Dean actually smiled and muttered under his breath, "Not too long now, buddy, the demon's here. I'm getting you out soon."

He hadn't imagined his first kiss with someone in a male form would go like this, but that was the least of Dean's worries. "Me for Castiel," he demanded.

The demon chuckled, black eyes alight with cruel mirth. "What makes you think we want you in Hell?"

"Come on," Dean said cockily. "I'm a bit of a celebrity, wouldn't you say? I know for a fact that there's gotta be hundreds or thousands of demons down there who've been waiting for some revenge. I did do a good number on them, after all."

"But the angel is so much fun, as I'm sure you can imagine," the demon replied with cold, barely suppressed glee and a wink.

Dean ground his teeth and had to ball his hands into white-knuckled fists to keep from reaching for the knife. "Just do it," he ordered impatiently.

"No can do, bucko," the demon said with a shrug. "Our lord doesn't want you in Hell, that's the bottom line."

Now, Dean did reach for the knife. He attacked and plunged it into the demon's heart with a snarl before another word could be exchanged, but then both the demon and its human host were dead, and Dean was still no closer to saving Castiel than he had been over six hours ago. He looked around helplessly and thought, I'll find another way, Cas.

He spotted Jimmy, suddenly, standing next to his car with an unreadable expression, and shit, but the sight of him always made Dean's heart leap for a tiny moment before he remembered it wasn't Castiel and the disappointment hit all over again. Jimmy had apparently driven one of Bobby's old pickups, which was parked a little ways back.

"What do you want?" Dean asked gruffly as he approached, but he didn't wait for an answer before getting into the car.

Jimmy slid into the passenger seat as Dean started the car. "What're you going to do now?" he asked, and maybe it was because he'd had calm, quiet Castiel inside him for so long, but something about his voice, too high though it was, soothed Dean's franticness a little, just enough that he could string together a few thoughts.

"I'm going to drive around, and the first abandoned building of some sort I see, I'm gonna go in there and blow my brains out before Sam wakes up," Dean told him, and even as he said it, he knew that it was exactly what he had to do. "If they won't give me a ride down to Hell, then I'm just gonna have to get there myself. I know my way around, I'll find him somehow." It was his craziest plan yet, but Dean was at his wits' end because Castiel had already been in Hell for close to two months. It was time to stop relying on anyone else and finally take matters into his own hands. Wasting precious time on research was out of the question, especially since none of Sam or Bobby's research over those four months had produced a single hint.

Jimmy didn't sound surprised. "Even if you do find him, how will you get him out?"

Dean shrugged. "Haven't thought that far ahead yet. Doesn't matter. Even if we never get out, at least he won't be down there by himself." He didn't get a response from Jimmy, who simply stared at him with those big eyes of his that Dean had come to know so well. Now that it wasn't Castiel doing the staring, though, Dean felt a little unnerved. "What, not gonna try to stop me?"

"You really do love him," Jimmy said softly.

Dean pursed his lips and turned his head to focus on the road again. Of course he loved the damned angel. This had never just been about saving his savior because he owed him one or three; it was about Castiel, his friend Cas who was always filled with quiet adoration even when he didn't quite know what was going on, who trusted Dean and curled up against him at night, who watched over him always and would've done anything for him.

He didn't reply, but eventually Jimmy said, "No, I'm not going to try to stop you. I'd be a fool to, and you'd only knock me out anyway."

Which was all true, of course. "Why are you here, then?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Thought you wouldn't mind the company."

And even though Dean had sort of subconsciously avoided Jimmy earlier because everything he'd done had only been another twist of the knife, another reminder that he wasn't Castiel because Castiel was in Hell, Dean felt a strange rush of gratitude now. "Why do you care, anyway?" he asked curiously.

Jimmy twisted his lips wryly. "You were good to us, Dean. Not just to Cas, but to me, too."

Dean snorted. "I left you guys to rot for three months in the tender care of some demons."

"Yeah, okay, that part wasn't so good," Jimmy conceded. "And I was pretty pissed when I found out you guys let that happen to me and failed to stop the apocalypse, but you couldn't have known, right? And Cas, well." He frowned. "Cas had it a lot worse than I did."

Of course, Dean had an inkling about what that meant, but he couldn't resist asking, "How's that?"

For a moment Jimmy pursed his lips contemplatively, but then he shook his head and said, "He was just a mess all around, you know? Hated everyone, terrified of everything, pissed all the time, had no idea what to do other than follow you around hoping you'd notice and approve of him, so that's all he did do. And I gotta say, that is not what I signed up for when he asked me to be his vessel. But, like I said, you were good to us." He shrugged. "It's weird, having an angel inside you. You sort of can't help but feel what he feels. So when he started getting better, it was easier for me, too."

"Was he better? I mean, was he okay?" Dean thought so, but Castiel said so little it was difficult to tell, sometimes. And even if Castiel was never okay again, Dean hoped that he had been, at least for a short while.

"As okay as he could be, I guess," Jimmy said with a shrug. "I mean, he had his ups and downs, as you know, but most of his ups had to do with you. Well, you and the fact that Heaven's really starting to get stirred up, thanks to him." Dean didn't miss the hint of pride in Jimmy's voice here. "That's the sort of thing I signed up for."

"Till I fucked it all up," Dean pointed out with a sneer for himself.

There was a pause before Jimmy said, "No one blames you for putting Sam first, you know. You're still a good guy, and I'm glad Cas has you."

Blame or no blame, that last part had Dean saying bitterly, "He deserves better."

Jimmy was skeptical. "Better than someone who'd pursue him literally past the ends of the world?" Dean actually didn't have anything to say to that, so Jimmy kept talking, albeit more awkwardly than before. "Look, Dean, I know how you feel about him, and I'll admit I wasn't a huge fan of the idea before, but--"

"That's not why I'm doing this," Dean said sharply.

"I know," Jimmy replied. "I know that. But Castiel thinks about it sometimes, what it would be like with you. And regardless of what you think, you do deserve him. So if both of you make it back somehow and he ever wants to, uh." He paused here and Dean could practically feel him blushing even though he kept his eyes on the road and didn't glance over. "What I'm trying to say is, don't let me get in the way."

Dean supposed he should appreciate the sentiment, but he really wasn't in the mood to discuss this of all things at the moment, not with Jimmy and especially not when it was the least of his worries. In any case, it was likely Castiel would probably never want to be touched again after this, not anywhere or by anyone, even if he did manage to hold on to his sanity. It killed Dean to think of how far he'd come only to be thrown right back where he'd started, or even further, but he didn't want to think about that either, so he changed the subject. "What about you?" he asked, finally glancing over. "I mean, last time Castiel got yanked out you were all about staying angel-free and going back to your family."

"Yeah, well, as much as I'd love to see Amelia and Claire again, we both know how well that worked out last time," Jimmy replied, not without a touch of bitterness. Then he shrugged. "But there are bigger things going on, so I've resigned myself to it. If Cas comes back, I'll be here for him."

Dean nodded and swore, "He'll be back."

When they pulled up into an abandoned gas station, Dean thought it was kind of fitting, since Castiel had first tried to say hello to him at a gas station a year and a half ago. He turned to Jimmy and said, "Thanks."

Jimmy nodded once and then dropped his gaze. He stayed in the car when Dean got out, which was just as well since Dean really didn't want him to have to see this anyway.

He went into the gas station's convenience store and knelt carefully on the floor in one of the aisles. After checking that he was hidden from Jimmy's view, Dean took out his gun. And maybe his hands were shaking slightly, but it wasn't like he was going to miss, not when he brought it up under his jaw and pressed the barrel into his throat. He swallowed reflexively and thought of Sam and Bobby, who'd be waking up soon, and he thought of the world, which was still ending, and whispered again, "I'm sorry." Then he switched off the safety, took a deep breath, and said, "Wait for me, Cas. I'll be there soon."

There was no warning this time; no slow, creeping crescendo. One moment everything was silent, and then suddenly the high pitched whine of an angel's voice was blaring through the store, louder than Dean had ever heard it and instantly shattering every window around him. Dean was mostly protected from the shards, but his eardrums felt close to exploding and he squeezed his eyes shut in agony. His hands came up to clamp over his ears, and he dropped his gun in the process.

The voice stopped as soon as his gun hit the floor.

Dean was curled into himself and panting, and his head was still ringing painfully, but he could hear it when Jimmy ran into the store and breathed, "It's Cas."

Part 15

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From:

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WHAT OMG DEAN YOU WONDERFUL STUPID MARVELOUS SELF-SACRIFICING IDIOT. oh man, my heart hurt for him. i like your (possible?) nod to the 5x10 spoilers :D

and jimmy. i love him sfm.

i could have gone without updates for a few more days but this is still awesome.

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fancy a fuck?

Fic: And I Will Walk On Water (14/18)

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