Fic: Take A Bow 1/6
Title: Take A Bow Author: Lopaka Tanu Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, Anna. Words: 20200 Prompt: 2. Post-apocalyptic or end of the world scenario. For stageira Beta: Thank you to my Muse, Beta and Corrections Officer, kira_bouviea Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: Dean/Castiel Spoilers: Immediately Post 4x22: 'Lucifer Rising'. Rating: Adult Warnings: Language, Violence, Character Death, Angelic Violence, Dean Angst, Dean Centric, Implied Adult Situations. Summary: Dean is the instrument that stops the apocalypse. There are consequences. Author's Note: There are general WTF moments that are explained by the end. ______________________________________
Dean could feel the malevolence in the air of the sanctuary. He glanced over to see if Sam did too, but his attention was soon drawn back to the portal. The candles flickered in the old church from an unholy wind kicked up from the broken seal. Though, they were soon drowned out by the brilliance of the pit.
Feeling the earth shake beneath them, Dean reached out to grasp for his brother. His hand swept through where Sam had been and kept on going. Looking over in horror, he found only brilliant light. It was all around him and growing in intensity.
The shrill cry of a thousand tormented voices shrieking as one tore through him. Dean shivered at the memory of hell, feeling its darkness even in this light. He tried to close his eyes against it. Yet, it was to no avail as he could not deny it existence.
There was no avoiding what was happening. He could feel the wrongness of it to his very core. Something terrible was happening and he could not stop it.
Blinking, Dean felt tears form at his eyes. A welling started in his chest and he glanced about for someone. Dean felt that he was in trouble and someone would be along to punish him.
Warmth crashed over him in a mighty wave. The force of it was so strong that it knocked the breath from him. It was coming. Drawn more by instinct than knowledge, he looked directly ahead of him, to the opening.
He stared down in the hole, to what he knew was The Pit. Curled up at the bottom was a figure. His knees, for there was no doubt to his gender, were drawn to his chest and his face laid upon them. Curly hair hung around his head.
As Dean watched, two massive black wings rose up from the ground to either side of him. They seemed to shimmer for a moment as they shook off the ancient collected soot. Once freed of their burden, they glowed a warm white, almost from within. He unfurled his wings and raised them high.
Dean felt only love for this man as he stared at him. He was beautiful, so much that Dean was unable to draw his eyes away. Dean knew the moment he saw the man's face he would come to worship him.
As if summoned by Dean's thoughts, the cowering man uncurled his arms from around his legs. Raising them up above his head, he stretched them and his wings. It appeared he had just awoken from a deep sleep. Then he raised his head and he stared directly at Dean.
Dean felt his heart stop.
The man's beauty was so absolute Dean could think of nothing else. He felt only love, a love so consuming and overwhelming that he ceased to care. All his wants, all his worries ceased to matter. Drawn as he was, he needed with every fiber of his being to stare at this beauty for all eternity.
Then the man opened his mouth.
And the tranquility slipped away. Staring at this monster, this vile beast, Dean felt only an intense and burning hatred. It so consumed him that he opened his mouth to scream his rage. The voice that issued forth was not his own.
The wondrous expression on the man's face turned to confused. He stared not at Dean, but through him. Trying to speak, he found that he had no voice against Dean's scream.
The light surrounding Dean surged. He could almost see each particle as it was forced back in to the hole. The strength of the great tide tried dragging him in yet he stood firm. Dean was a granite pillar against the flutterings of a butterfly's wings.
In The Pit, the fallen one's wings were slammed back in to the soot and ash, coated with the leavings. His head was forced to bow once more and the glorious face hidden from sight.
He was forbidden. There was no forgiveness, no atonement. This one would never be returned to the fold. His damnation was absolute.
Once Lucifer was sealed back in his cage, Dean's rage did not abate. There were others, still more who would dare to claim for themselves what they knew forbidden. They defied so willfully and wholly that they damned themselves as well.
Stretching out the grasp of his rage, Dean felt the usurpers pause in their mighty strength. Their shock turned to amazement at his touch. That awe and amazement was soon followed by fear. They knew the extent of their crimes. It was enough and he cast them down.
Their screams shredded souls as they were torn from stolen vessels and thrown in The Pit along side their treasonous brethren. Once they were sealed in, there would be no freedom. His word was ultimate. His will was truth. Defiance was not theirs to covet.
Then, it was over. He was just Dean once more. Almost as if it had never happened, he was no longer in the light.
The world around them remained in shadows where the candles were obstructed. At their feet lay the bodies of two innocent young women. The blood of one still stained his finger tips.
It was almost as if the holy visions were but a dream. He knew that to be false. Everything as he had seen it had happened. Dean knew this for fact.
There was even one sign that he hadn't been hallucinating. The stench of sulfur lingered in the air. Barely a hint, but it was still there.
Dean glanced over at his brother and swallowed. He felt shaky, not from the physical force, but the emotional rollercoaster over what had just happened. What had happened? There was no rational explanation that his mind could supply.
Staring at the carved circle in the stone floor, Sam seemed to be waiting. After a moment, when nothing happened, he reached up to run a hand over the lower half of his face. "Nothing's happening."
Unable to believe his ears, Dean's eyes went wide. Did the big dork suddenly blank out the past five hours? Dean frowned. Five hours? That's how long it felt like to him.
"I, uh...I broke the seal, right?" Glancing up from the carving for the first time, Sam looked to his brother. "Why isn't anything happening? Not that I want it to, but shouldn't there have been something?"
Dean opened his mouth to shout at him. He wanted to yell at the dumbass for even having done this shit in the first place. There was so much rage over this that he didn't even know where to begin. But, instead, all he said was a calm, "nothing is going to happen."
It felt like a slap in the face. Those weren't his words and Dean knew it. This was not his doing. Something had indeed happened, something fucking major!
Apparently Sam didn't buy it either. Frowning, he cocked his head a little. "Nothing, Dean? Are you out of your mind? This was the final seal! I set Lucifer free!"
Dean snorted. He at least had that much control. "Yeah, well, he's been taken care of." Sudden knowledge came upon him. Dean knew there was a name for it, but it slipped his mental grasp. "He and the others, that dick Zachariah included, are back where they belong. You don't fuck with God's plan."
A stillness came over Sam. Even his hair seemed too afraid to move. "Dean, how do you know that?"
Lips twitching as he snorted, Dean cocked his head a little. "His word's final. Nothing that He says is law can be undone; not even by a bunch of His out of control brats." This made the twitch become a full blown smirk. "Speaking of which, guess which of the demons' favorite fallen just got the ultimate smack down for the second time."
This sent a shiver of fear through Sam. On a sudden impulse, he glanced around him, then up. "What just happened Dean?" There was nothing but the fallen shadows of the old church.
"Hold on a minute." Raising a hand, Dean put it between them as if to physically halt Sam's question. "You didn't see all that? Not the white light, the fallen angel, God's wrath opening little sinkholes to hell for all the bad angels, none of it?"
As his brother spoke, Sam seemed to become physically sick. He swallowed and visibly paled. When Dean finished, he could only shake his head mutely.
Something tickled at the back of Dean's mind. It was an explanation why but he didn't want to accept it. That was too much for him to process at the moment. So, he did what he always did. He snorted and smirked. "Trust me, Sam, you missed a hell of a fireworks display. Literally."
For a moment, Sam could only stare at him in shock. Then it was as if a dam of emotions had burst inside him. Face falling, he tried to reach out for Dean. When the other man took a step back, he stared at him, hurt.
With a quick shake of his head, he indicated the girly stuff wasn't happening. That was a right the other had seriously blown.
This didn't settle well with Sam, but he kept his hurt to himself. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. He would wait until Dean was ready. It was enough that they were together now.
Seeing this made Dean nod once in return. Unconsciously, he reached up to rub at his nose. He frowned at the action. "Come on, we gotta get outta here."
"Dean," Sam tried. When his brother looked his way, Sam gestured helplessly at the bodies. He couldn't bring himself to look down. "What about them?"
Almost as if he had forgotten them, Dean followed to where Sam indicated. The young women were so beautiful in their deaths. He knew what needed to be done. "Burn them. Let their souls rest at peace."
With nothing else to do, Sam nodded his acceptance. "I'll get some gas from the Impala."
Dean's head shot up. He had forgotten about that. He started to smirk, then the memory of how he had gotten there came rushing back. "Cas." A lead weight seemed to settle in his stomach. Where he reached out to the angel, there was nothing.
He couldn't be sure how, but Dean knew for certain Castiel was gone.
The world suddenly tilted. Dean felt his knees grow weak. Staggering, he nearly tripped over one of the bodies. "Sammy!"
Sam was there in an instant. Clutching at his brother's jacket, Sam tugged him close. He took advantage of Dean's imbalance to wrap his arms around the shorter man. The sudden strength of Dean's embrace made him wince. Yet, Sam did not complain. He needed this too much, they both did.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Through the passenger window, Dean watched the houses pass by. As they drew nearer, he could make out individual porches and houses through the downpour. Rain had shrouded the journey all the way back to Kripke's Hollow. Not that he felt like complaining. It seemed some how appropriate to the mood.
The heat was blowing from the vents over him but Dean couldn't feel it. He didn't feel much of anything. Only time he came near was when he looked over to Sam. Plenty of rage was sizzling beneath the surface there. Dean let it go because the last thing he felt like doing now was fighting.
Too much had finally happened.
Dean clenched his jaw. Forcing himself to keep watching the road, he refused to look once more to the rightful source of plenty of his anger. His hand went to the arm rest but encountered a handle instead. That only served to remind him that he was most definitely not in the Impala.
Sam's fault, only partially. Still, he shared some of the God damned blame. Oh, he was looking forward to a major beat down later. There would be retribution for his betrayal. The first thing their dad had taught them was that they had to depend upon one another. He would ensure that this lesson was never forgotten again.
The door handle snapped off under his grip. This surprised Dean as he stared down at it. They just didn't make cars like they used to. There was no way in hell his baby would have broken so easily.
Then again, it wasn't like any of it mattered. Everything was finally over, the good guys had won. The world was going to still be there when the sun rose tomorrow.
So why didn't he give a shit?
He was woken from his revery by the shifting of the gears. Noticing the car was slowing down, he looked out the front windshield. They were pulling on to a familiar street. Dean could tell this even through the rain. The lead weight in his stomach made itself known then.
Swallowing had no effect on the sick feeling. As if to delay the inevitable, the world seemed to slow to a crawl with them. Sunlight had burst through the clouds to illuminate a single spot. Everything became surreal the instant Chuck's property came in to view. For a moment, Dean thought that it would be all right.
Sam's gasp drew him back to reality.
Stopping the car in the middle of the street, Sam put it in park. Despite the rain, he opened the driver's door and eased his bulk out.
Dean didn't see this. His eyes were riveted to the sight clearly visible through his window. If his heart was capable of beating in that moment he knew that it would've been threatening to explode from his chest.
Yellow crime scene tape surrounded where had once stood the old post-war era home. Between two normal yards lay utter devastation. A massive crater filling with mud and rain water was the only thing that remained to show where it had been.
He wasn't aware that he had actually opened the door until he felt the rain hit his face. Blinking, Dean climbed out of the car. Distantly, he was aware that he was getting soaked. That didn't matter though.
Dean could barely hear the dull roar of the rain. Reaching up, he wiped at the water rushing over his face.
It was real. Castiel really was gone this time. There would be no coming back from this.
Seeing this only reminded him of the things he had said to the Angel. Was it only three days ago?
His knees felt weak yet he did not fall. Castiel had made the ultimate sacrifice that he might save the world. It wasn't right. Too many people had died for this madness, yet this was the one death he focused on. This wasn't what the Angel had deserved.
Clenching his jaw, Dean made himself look away. It wasn't right. Very carefully, he shifted so that he could climb back in the car. He caught Sam doing the same out of the corner of his eye.
Dean slammed the door shut. Staring straight ahead, he let his arm rest against the window.
After closing his own door, Sam put the car in to gear. With a lurch, it jerked forward, then went onwards down the road. As the borrowed car picked up speed the noise of the rain began again in earnest.