Fic: Crossover: Supernatural: Silent Hill: Dean, Cas (10/?)
Got a long chapter for you guys this time, I hope you enjoy it.
Title: Supernatural: Silent Hill
Author: nicole9514
Rating: R
Chapters: 10/? (still editing/writing, but i'm almost positive it'll be 15 total)
Warnings: gore, blood, disturbing imagery, violence, language
Genre: Crossover/AU on the silent hill front
Spoilers: season five Supernatural, Silent Hill film, and Silent Hill 1 and 2 video games.
Characters: Focus on Dean and Castiel friendship or pre-slash depending on your preference, but some Sam and Bobby as well.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Silent Hill, I'm only playing with them.
A/N: I blatantly steal elements/scenarios from the Silent Hill film, and Silent Hill 1 and 2 video games, but I've also created some of my own canon/expanded/changed characters and other elements to create an insane trip to Silent Hill tailor made for Dean and Cas, hence the AU part of this fic.
Special Thanks: to my beta skylar_matthews
Summary: Dean and Cas get trapped in Silent Hill. Sam and Bobby are on the outside trying to find them - will they find a way out...
Word Count: 4,252 (total 41,055 total)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Sam left the school with his heart in his throat.
“Anything?” Bobby asked from his position on the sidewalk.
Sam didn’t know how to answer that question. He stopped and looked back at the building he’d just left.
“Sam,” the old hunter tried again, his eyes tight.
“Something weird happened.”
Bobby gave a quick, bitter laugh. “Isn’t that par for the course with us?”
Sam couldn’t even make his lips twitch. “Yeah, but this was different.” Sam brushed dirt off his jacket. “I could have sworn I heard them in there…and felt them.”
Bobby’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“On the third floor. I heard Dean yelling Cas’s name. When I got there the room was empty. I searched the entire floor. Nothing.”
Bobby mulled this over, then suggested. “It could have been a spell of some kind.”
“Maybe.” Sam started pacing. “When I was in the room I could hear their voices, make out their tones, but not the words. It reminded me of listening to a conversation through a wall.”
Something clicked into place in Sam’s brain. “ A wall,” he repeated, his heart hammering against his ribcage. Sam spun to face the other hunter. “Bobby, is it possible that they are here, but somehow outside of our perception?”
Bobby blinked. “What are you thinking son?”
Sam held his hand up, fist closed, and raised one finger. “We know there are reapers walking around that we can’t perceive unless we‘re spirits.” He lifted a second finger. “We know that we can’t perceive the true forms of angels.” He raised a third. “We know that heaven and hell exist, even though we can’t actually reach them or see them in this state of being.” He lowered his arms back to his sides. “Would it really be that much of a stretch to believe there might be more layers to the world that we are incapable of seeing?”
Bobby’s eyes widened, then clouded with worry. “I miss the good ole days when you found a monster and you killed it. Things just keep getting more and more complicated in this line of work.”
“You think I’m crazy?” Sam hedged.
“No.” Bobby’s fingers rapped on the armrests of his wheelchair. “I’m worried you’re right.” Bobby paused. “If you are, I have no idea how we go about getting them back.”
*****
Cas felt his stomach drop as he hit Dean in the back of the head with the butt of his handgun. Dean started to crumple to the ground; Cas caught him, gently lowering him onto the pavement as the metal pipe Dean had been wielding clattered to the ground, rolling a few feet away. Cas knew knocking him out was the only way he could save his friends life. Dean would have fought them and he would have died.
Cas only prayed Dean wouldn’t hate him for it.
Assuming they didn’t just shoot him anyway.
He could feel their captors watching him. He didn’t look up, instead he felt for Dean’s pulse. He found it and relaxed slightly.
“At least one of you has some sense,” Claudia’s venom filled voice tore into him.
Cas’s head shot up and he glared at her. “If you harm him in anyway, I will find a way to destroy you.”
She blinked, licked her lips, then gave him a tense smile. “Castiel, you are in no condition to take all of us on. ”
She was right. Under normal circumstances he would wipe the floor with them. Even on his worst day a gunshot would not have done more than inconvenience him, but here, in this place, where the normal rules didn’t seem to apply, anything was possible.
“No,” he kept his voice low and dangerous. His eyes narrowed and he slowly rose to full height, ignoring the small wave of lightheadedness that threatened. “But I will force you to kill me,” he smirked, doing his best “cocky Dean” impression and enjoying the brief glimmer of surprise on Claudia’s face. “It sounds like whatever is pulling your strings might not be to happy about that.”
He saw fear flicker in her cold eyes and it gave Cas the answer he’d been digging for. These people were pawns in someone’s game and whoever orchestrated this wanted him alive. He could use that to keep Dean safe.
Cas kept his face impassive as he took a step forward and continued to address Claudia. “However, if you let him live I’ll cooperate, and go with you willingly.”
He could see her thinking it over. Her fingers clenched into fists a few times, she leaned over and whispered something in Walter’s ear. They both nodded.
“Do I have your word you will not fight us?”
Cas swallowed; he knew Dean would hate this. The hunter was more than willing to sacrifice himself for those he cared for, but if you tried to do the same he‘d tell you, you were being an idiot. Dean never believed he was worth saving. Cas had hoped one day he would have been able to make him see how wrong he was.
Now that day might never come.
If you do this I will kick your ass into next Tuesday.
He almost smiled as the echo of Dean’s voice rose up in his mind. Now Dean was giving him hell even when he was unconscious.
Cas whispered, “Yes. You have my word.”
Her smile was full of victory and pride.
She raised a hand and motioned for the hooded men to lower their weapons.
“I’ll take that.” She gestured at the handgun that Castiel was still clutching at his side.
Cas offered her the weapon, their fingers brushed as she took it, and her stained soul opened up to the angel. Sometimes when he touched human beings he got impressions from them. Images, words, and even emotions. Cas caught only a brief glimpse because she yanked her hand back almost immediately as if she’d been burned.
But he got enough to know Claudia’s mind was a melting pot of fanaticism.
Images of charred bodies, the drawing she claimed was a symbol of their faith hanging over an altar, cloaked figures chanting around a pool of blood, and the smell of flesh burning.
He’d also gotten the word Valtiel. Cas had no idea what meaning it carried, only that it was of great importance to her.
His face betrayed none of the revulsion her tainted soul made him feel.
“Let’s go,” she hissed, wiping her hand on her shirt.
Cas nodded and started following her; the men with guns trailed closely behind, one of them grabbed the dropped pipe.
Apparently Dean was not even allowed that small amount of protection when he woke up. The thought of Dean waking up alone and unarmed, made his chest burn. Guilt and regret came in like the tide.
At least he has a chance now, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. Cas clung to that life preserver of hope as he glanced back at Dean’s still form, wishing he‘d had time to explain his actions, to say goodbye.
Something dark appeared at the top of his vision; he suppressed a flinch while his gaze shot upwards. Someone was watching them from behind the corner of a building. A woman; dark hair, streaked with gray peaked out, her expression was haunted. Their eyes connected and her mouth opened partway, her lips moving in a silent plea before she jerked back, disappearing behind the wall.
Cas swallowed and decided to keep quiet, he had a feeling this woman was not a danger to Dean. Her posture, the sadness in her eyes;, the fact that she was afraid of his captors; she didn’t strike him as the murderous type.
He could only pray he was right.
“Hurry up.” The barrel of a shotgun dug into his spine as a man with a deep, baritone voice snarled behind him.
Cas took one last glance at his unconscious friend before increasing his pace to keep up with Claudia.
*****
“Cas,” Dean managed as he hauled himself up off the ground. He felt like he’d been sleeping on a bed of really pointy rocks. He cracked his neck, and scanned the area around him.
He was alone.
Dean looked around on the ground - searching for his pipe.
It was gone as well.
Dean touched the back of his skull and winced. No blood, but he could feel a bump there. He’d been knocked out for the second time that day.
Dean swallowed as he thought back to the last thing he remembered.
Cas had moved behind him.
He’d said he was sorry.
That stupid son of a bitch.
He was going to kill him when he found him.
If he’s alive.
Dean ignored the thought. He couldn’t afford to think that way.
Cas was alive.
He was going to rescue him and then he was going to kick his ass into next week for pulling a stunt like that.
There were a few chinks in his plan. He didn’t know where they’d gone and he was completely unarmed. They’d said they were taking them to their church, that was probably a lie. Still it was the only lead he had.
He jogged forward searching for another map.
Dean couldn’t help but wonder why they’d left him alive. Since he’d made the choice to die rather than use his free pass out of silent hill, they had to know he’d come looking for Cas.
Maybe they just didn’t consider him to be a threat.
Or because Cas somehow talked them into sparing your life after he knocked you out; which he only did to stop you from starting a fight you had no chance in winning.
Shut up. Dean mentally growled at his own unwanted thoughts.
What did you promise them Cas? Dean tried not to think of all the horrible things those bastards might be doing to his friend right now.
Dean found another map lining the sidewalk. The Church of the Holy Way was located a few blocks away. Even if Cas wasn‘t being held there, he still might find a clue as to where else they might have taken him.
Dean padded softly down the sidewalk, trying not to let his mind wander. He focused solely on reaching the church.
On his way there a sign for a restaurant called Diner 52 caught his eye, and he decided to take a quick detour. He wanted to reach the church as soon as possible, every second he spent not finding Cas was another moment his friends life was at risk, but he needed a way to defend himself.
He was no good to Cas dead.
A restaurant might have something he could use as a weapon.
The front door had been nailed shut with boards; he could probably get it open, but not without making a lot of noise. Dean scanned the front of the building. There was a long bay window that something had taken a chunk out of; dried blood stained the corners of the shattered glass.
The hole was big enough to fit a man.
Dean quietly slipped inside through the broken section, avoiding any remaining glass and started searching. He reached for his flashlight and flipped it on, using it to navigate a path behind the counter.
There were shattered plates and discarded utensils strewn all over the floor.
Dean searched the counter. He found an old blender, coffee maker, and enough jars of honey to have a dinosaur on a sugar high.
He opened a few draws and got damn lucky.
One of them was full of steak knives.
Dean pulled out the largest one and pressed it against the tip of his finger.
Blood appeared.
This would do.
He slipped it into his jeans, grabbed a few smaller ones and shoved one into his back pocket, and another inside his boot.
It never hurt to have a few surprises tucked away.
****
“We’re almost there Castiel,” Claudia sounded pleased with herself.
Cas didn’t bother to respond. He was surrounded on all sides by armed gunmen, and with each step the pressure on his grace seemed to be increasing. It was getting harder to breathe. Whatever being they were taking him to meet was definitely the source of this debilitating energy.
She glanced back at him. “Aren’t you the least bit curious what we want with you?”
Cas glared at her.
“No?” She grinned, when he still refused to bite, she shrugged and kept walking straight ahead. “You’ll know soon enough.”
They walked another few minutes when Cas heard that phantom voice surround him.
Castiel. I’ve been expecting you.
Cas took five more steps.
His vision blurred, his abused grace shuddered, and pain shot from his chest up to his temples. Cas refused to scream as he desperately tried to fight off the attack. Whatever this thing was tore through his defenses, leaving a trail of searing pain wherever it went.
Cas lost the battle and slipped into darkness.
****
Dean turned onto the street the church was located on without any close encounters of the fucked up kind. He could see its tall steeple towering over the houses that covered the rest of the neighborhood. The place looked threatening and uninviting. Huge, with dark paint, and orange and brown stained glass. That funky six-sided symbol was plastered all over it. It seemed they’d been telling the truth about it having to do with their faith.
Dean padded down the street, sticking to the grass in the yards whenever possible to soften his foot steps.
He passed a rusty green Honda civic; something rattled nearby.
Dean’s phone chirped, then quieted.
He held his knife at the ready, bent his knees slightly, and looked around.
The fog swirled around him.
Dean took a few more steps.
His phone started buzzing and hissing.
Scratching against concrete.
Dean spun, something long, and misshapen crawled out from under the car and vanished into the thick fog.
Shit.
Dean could hear it but he couldn’t see it. The thing was circling him.
Stalking him.
Sweat broke out all over his body, leaving him chilled and hot all at once. His pulse quickened, his stomach churned.
He had to get off the ground, level the playing field.
He raced forward, leaping onto the hood of the civic, eyes searching for this newest freak.
Dean saw it skitter by at inhuman speed, it went under the car, then darted out the other side disappearing into the sea of fog again. The thing moved on its stomach, he hadn’t seen any arms, and the movements were spastic. It was the length of a man.
Dean pulled one of the smaller knives out of his boot and waited.
He could hear it moving, circling again.
Dean moved forward a step and bent down as if he were going to step off the car, hoping to lure it out.
It worked.
The thing was in front of him in seconds. Dean watched it rear up slightly, its pulsating and writhing skin stretching as it moved.
It had a opening in its chest just like that mother fucker that had puked black, acid all over him.
Dean hurled the knife right into the opening, it made a noise that was a cross between a weed whacker and a chainsaw and fell flat again.
Dean didn’t give it chance to retreat. He leapt off the car onto its back, and drove the larger blade into its skull over and over again. Blood sprayed out in bursts with each thrust, spattering his face and chest.
When it stopped thrashing Dean stabbed it a few more times, then waited, knife ready to strike again if he sensed even a shiver of movement.
After a minute Dean stepped off the mutant, tensed, and watched it some more.
It stayed dead.
Dean exhaled and tried to ignore his shaking, bloody hands. His labored, harsh breaths sounded loud in the otherwise quiet street.
He wiped the blood on his jeans and glanced up towards the church and saw a woman, dressed in black, probably late fifties, step out from a small, alley to his right. She saw him, her eyes widened in terror, and she half ran, half stumbled across the street in front of him.
Dean stared, shocked, and still shaken from the fight as she ran.
After a few seconds he took off after her, his only thought that she might know where they took Cas.
She ran through an open gate on a fence that was enclosing a single story home.
She wasn’t fast and her skirt kept getting caught under her shoes; Dean reached the fence moments later and watched as she practically face-planted on the grass in the middle of the yard. He could hear her sobbing and babbling, begging him not to hurt her.
He stopped just in front of the waist-high fence and watched her warily. She didn’t seem to have the same glowing personally as the other residents of this town, but he’d been wrong before.
She sat up slowly, never meeting his eyes, her body shaking with quiet sobs. Her long, dark hair streaked with white, obscured her face. Dean wasn’t an expert on women’s hairstyle‘s, but this chick looked like she hadn’t bothered running a comb through it in the past decade. Her clothing was filthy and ratty; he’d seen homeless people that looked better.
Despite her Wicked Witch of the West appearance, he had to try and start up a dialogue with this woman. If she was one of them, she would know where Cas was, if she wasn’t, she still might have seen where they’d taken him.
He hid the knife, raised his hands in an I’m not going to hurt you gesture, and said in his most soothing tone. “You okay over there?”
She reeled back in surprise as if she‘d already forgotten he was standing there. Her eyes were wide, her dirt streaked, red, puffy face was wild with fear. Her arms flailed and she struggled to get up and run again, but tripped over her tattered skirt and fell to the ground again.
Damn, that skirt should have come with a warning label.
“Lady. Calm down,” Dean fought against the impulse to step closer and held his ground near the fence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She blinked, stared at him for an unsettling period of time, then said. “You aren’t with them.” It wasn’t a question, but Dean answered anyway.
“Hell no. I don’t even know who they are.”
She nodded slowly, sitting back on her knees.
Dean waited, after about thirty seconds of oppressive silence tried again. “Are you hurt?”
The way she stared at him, you’d have thought he’d asked her if she’d seen a unicorn jump over a rainbow. Dean wished Sam were here, he was good at the sensitive crap. Dean forced himself to smile and tried one more time, he needed this broad to get helpful real quick. “Are you injured?”
She swallowed, almost started crying again, then wrapped her arms around her mid-section, as if she was trying to hold herself together. “No.”
“Good.” Dean couldn’t help but wonder if she was missing a few screws. Her tone, her body language, her wardrobe, it all screamed ‘on the verge of a psychotic breakdown’.
Suddenly her head shot up, her gaze locked with his, and she seemed more alert. Her tone shifted from desolate to focused. “But I’m afraid your companion in the brown trench coat probably isn‘t so lucky.”
Dean felt like he’d been drop kicked in the gut. Maybe this loopy bitch was in on it. The thought brought on a surge of rage as he hopped the fence, and was on her in seconds. Grabbing the collar of her shirt, hauling her to her feet. “What the fuck does that mean? Dean snarled.
She didn’t struggle and her eyes had gone lifeless. She shook her head. “I’m not a part of them…not anymore.”
Dean blinked, confused by her response, but he fired off another question. “Then how did you know about Cas?”
“He seemed kind,” she whispered, “he didn’t reveal me.”
“What are you talking about?” Dean hissed, his frustration with this woman’s inability to follow a single train of thought bleeding into his words and body language.
“I was there the last time they attempted the ritual.” Her fingers were fiddling with one of the sixty dirt stains on her shirt.
“What ritual?” Dean growled. His heart slammed into his chest, while his dread over what was being done to Cas grew.
“The one that took someone very precious to me.” Her voice quavered, her body trembled. She closed her eyes, a single tear ran down her cheek, and fell onto Dean’s hand. He tried not to feel like a complete dick for bullying an obviously broken, and possibly mentally ill woman, but she knew something. Maybe even where Cas was being held. He had to get her to focus again and spill everything.
“Listen to me.” He moved his hand from her shirt collar, to her shoulder, trying to channel Sam. “What‘s your name?”
She seemed surprised that he would want to know. “Dhalia.”
“Dhalia, I don‘t know what happened to you, but if you don‘t help me I‘m going to lose someone important to me as well,” he paused, letting that sink in. “You can stop that from happening. All you have to do is tell me what‘s going on, so I can save him.”
Her eyes locked with his again, and Dean saw a flicker of determination and understanding in them.
Maybe there was something to this nice act.
She nodded. “I will tell you what I know. I only hope it will be enough.”
So do I.
*****
Castiel woke up lying on something cold and hard. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but blackness. There wasn’t a trace of light wherever he was being held.
He tried to move and felt something digging into his wrists and ankles. He was tied down. Judging by the abrasive texture, his best guess was rope. Cas struggled against his bonds for a few minutes and accomplished nothing except to wear himself out more.
An angel of the lord being held down by ordinary rope. Wonderful.
“Comfy?”
Cas froze, his eyes automatically tracked the voice that was coming from straight in front of him, and tried to make out the speaker.
It was useless.
Judging by the voice alone, his captor was a young woman; or was at least choosing to appear as one.
She giggled. “I thought you might be the strong, silent type.“ Her voice sounded both youthful and ancient all at once. She was clearly enjoying herself.
Soft footsteps circled him; whoever this was didn’t seem to be having trouble seeing. Cas could feel power wafting off of her; he’d felt it several times before. This was the source of all his problems in Silent Hill.
“Who are you?” He asked, his tone calm.
A scratching sound, then a match flared, and Cas got his first look at the being behind the curtain.
Silhouetted in a thin shroud of light, was that damn little girl.
The same one that had caused the wreck, and then led them down into that depraved alley.
She lit a candle in the right hand corner of the room. “Oh, I’ve gone by many names Castiel.”
Cas swallowed down his apprehension, and turned his head towards her, straining slightly against his bonds. “Is one of them Valtiel?” Cas guessed.
She smiled. It made him think of a tiger stalking its prey. “Clever little one.”
She lit another candle, in the far left hand corner. There was now enough light for Cas to see that the room was a perfect square. Hanging above him was that damn symbol, it was also carved onto the center of every wall that he could see from his position. He couldn’t see what lay behind him, but he imagined it was more of the same.
“But not clever enough to stay away,” she continued, her lips twitching, her gaze fixated on him.
Cas tensed, he watched as she carried another match to the next candle that rested on the center of a small circular table. On it lay an old, leather book, two wooden bowls, and a long, thin dagger.
She picked up the blade and stroked the handle, her dark eyes caressing it like an old friend.
“I’ve been trying to lure one of your kind here for a long time.”
Cas inhaled quietly through his nose. “Why?”
She walked over to him, and leaned down, running the blade across his cheek.
Cas forced himself not to react, he kept his breathing steady, and didn’t blink as they stared each other down.
“Because I need something from you.” She used her free hand to brush his throat. “You’re the key to my freedom.”
“I won’t help you,” Cas growled. “I‘d rather die.”
“But Castiel,” She pushed the tip of the blade into his skin; he felt the sting as it drew blood. Her lips trembled, and her eyes gleamed. She leaned down and licked the wound on his cheek. Her tongue was like ice, it took all of his control not to jerk his head away. She pulled back slowly, pausing to smell his skin, her expression starved.
“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”
Next Chapter
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Title: Supernatural: Silent Hill
Author: nicole9514
Rating: R
Chapters: 10/? (still editing/writing, but i'm almost positive it'll be 15 total)
Warnings: gore, blood, disturbing imagery, violence, language
Genre: Crossover/AU on the silent hill front
Spoilers: season five Supernatural, Silent Hill film, and Silent Hill 1 and 2 video games.
Characters: Focus on Dean and Castiel friendship or pre-slash depending on your preference, but some Sam and Bobby as well.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Silent Hill, I'm only playing with them.
A/N: I blatantly steal elements/scenarios from the Silent Hill film, and Silent Hill 1 and 2 video games, but I've also created some of my own canon/expanded/changed characters and other elements to create an insane trip to Silent Hill tailor made for Dean and Cas, hence the AU part of this fic.
Special Thanks: to my beta skylar_matthews
Summary: Dean and Cas get trapped in Silent Hill. Sam and Bobby are on the outside trying to find them - will they find a way out...
Word Count: 4,252 (total 41,055 total)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Sam left the school with his heart in his throat.
“Anything?” Bobby asked from his position on the sidewalk.
Sam didn’t know how to answer that question. He stopped and looked back at the building he’d just left.
“Sam,” the old hunter tried again, his eyes tight.
“Something weird happened.”
Bobby gave a quick, bitter laugh. “Isn’t that par for the course with us?”
Sam couldn’t even make his lips twitch. “Yeah, but this was different.” Sam brushed dirt off his jacket. “I could have sworn I heard them in there…and felt them.”
Bobby’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“On the third floor. I heard Dean yelling Cas’s name. When I got there the room was empty. I searched the entire floor. Nothing.”
Bobby mulled this over, then suggested. “It could have been a spell of some kind.”
“Maybe.” Sam started pacing. “When I was in the room I could hear their voices, make out their tones, but not the words. It reminded me of listening to a conversation through a wall.”
Something clicked into place in Sam’s brain. “ A wall,” he repeated, his heart hammering against his ribcage. Sam spun to face the other hunter. “Bobby, is it possible that they are here, but somehow outside of our perception?”
Bobby blinked. “What are you thinking son?”
Sam held his hand up, fist closed, and raised one finger. “We know there are reapers walking around that we can’t perceive unless we‘re spirits.” He lifted a second finger. “We know that we can’t perceive the true forms of angels.” He raised a third. “We know that heaven and hell exist, even though we can’t actually reach them or see them in this state of being.” He lowered his arms back to his sides. “Would it really be that much of a stretch to believe there might be more layers to the world that we are incapable of seeing?”
Bobby’s eyes widened, then clouded with worry. “I miss the good ole days when you found a monster and you killed it. Things just keep getting more and more complicated in this line of work.”
“You think I’m crazy?” Sam hedged.
“No.” Bobby’s fingers rapped on the armrests of his wheelchair. “I’m worried you’re right.” Bobby paused. “If you are, I have no idea how we go about getting them back.”
*****
Cas felt his stomach drop as he hit Dean in the back of the head with the butt of his handgun. Dean started to crumple to the ground; Cas caught him, gently lowering him onto the pavement as the metal pipe Dean had been wielding clattered to the ground, rolling a few feet away. Cas knew knocking him out was the only way he could save his friends life. Dean would have fought them and he would have died.
Cas only prayed Dean wouldn’t hate him for it.
Assuming they didn’t just shoot him anyway.
He could feel their captors watching him. He didn’t look up, instead he felt for Dean’s pulse. He found it and relaxed slightly.
“At least one of you has some sense,” Claudia’s venom filled voice tore into him.
Cas’s head shot up and he glared at her. “If you harm him in anyway, I will find a way to destroy you.”
She blinked, licked her lips, then gave him a tense smile. “Castiel, you are in no condition to take all of us on. ”
She was right. Under normal circumstances he would wipe the floor with them. Even on his worst day a gunshot would not have done more than inconvenience him, but here, in this place, where the normal rules didn’t seem to apply, anything was possible.
“No,” he kept his voice low and dangerous. His eyes narrowed and he slowly rose to full height, ignoring the small wave of lightheadedness that threatened. “But I will force you to kill me,” he smirked, doing his best “cocky Dean” impression and enjoying the brief glimmer of surprise on Claudia’s face. “It sounds like whatever is pulling your strings might not be to happy about that.”
He saw fear flicker in her cold eyes and it gave Cas the answer he’d been digging for. These people were pawns in someone’s game and whoever orchestrated this wanted him alive. He could use that to keep Dean safe.
Cas kept his face impassive as he took a step forward and continued to address Claudia. “However, if you let him live I’ll cooperate, and go with you willingly.”
He could see her thinking it over. Her fingers clenched into fists a few times, she leaned over and whispered something in Walter’s ear. They both nodded.
“Do I have your word you will not fight us?”
Cas swallowed; he knew Dean would hate this. The hunter was more than willing to sacrifice himself for those he cared for, but if you tried to do the same he‘d tell you, you were being an idiot. Dean never believed he was worth saving. Cas had hoped one day he would have been able to make him see how wrong he was.
Now that day might never come.
If you do this I will kick your ass into next Tuesday.
He almost smiled as the echo of Dean’s voice rose up in his mind. Now Dean was giving him hell even when he was unconscious.
Cas whispered, “Yes. You have my word.”
Her smile was full of victory and pride.
She raised a hand and motioned for the hooded men to lower their weapons.
“I’ll take that.” She gestured at the handgun that Castiel was still clutching at his side.
Cas offered her the weapon, their fingers brushed as she took it, and her stained soul opened up to the angel. Sometimes when he touched human beings he got impressions from them. Images, words, and even emotions. Cas caught only a brief glimpse because she yanked her hand back almost immediately as if she’d been burned.
But he got enough to know Claudia’s mind was a melting pot of fanaticism.
Images of charred bodies, the drawing she claimed was a symbol of their faith hanging over an altar, cloaked figures chanting around a pool of blood, and the smell of flesh burning.
He’d also gotten the word Valtiel. Cas had no idea what meaning it carried, only that it was of great importance to her.
His face betrayed none of the revulsion her tainted soul made him feel.
“Let’s go,” she hissed, wiping her hand on her shirt.
Cas nodded and started following her; the men with guns trailed closely behind, one of them grabbed the dropped pipe.
Apparently Dean was not even allowed that small amount of protection when he woke up. The thought of Dean waking up alone and unarmed, made his chest burn. Guilt and regret came in like the tide.
At least he has a chance now, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. Cas clung to that life preserver of hope as he glanced back at Dean’s still form, wishing he‘d had time to explain his actions, to say goodbye.
Something dark appeared at the top of his vision; he suppressed a flinch while his gaze shot upwards. Someone was watching them from behind the corner of a building. A woman; dark hair, streaked with gray peaked out, her expression was haunted. Their eyes connected and her mouth opened partway, her lips moving in a silent plea before she jerked back, disappearing behind the wall.
Cas swallowed and decided to keep quiet, he had a feeling this woman was not a danger to Dean. Her posture, the sadness in her eyes;, the fact that she was afraid of his captors; she didn’t strike him as the murderous type.
He could only pray he was right.
“Hurry up.” The barrel of a shotgun dug into his spine as a man with a deep, baritone voice snarled behind him.
Cas took one last glance at his unconscious friend before increasing his pace to keep up with Claudia.
*****
“Cas,” Dean managed as he hauled himself up off the ground. He felt like he’d been sleeping on a bed of really pointy rocks. He cracked his neck, and scanned the area around him.
He was alone.
Dean looked around on the ground - searching for his pipe.
It was gone as well.
Dean touched the back of his skull and winced. No blood, but he could feel a bump there. He’d been knocked out for the second time that day.
Dean swallowed as he thought back to the last thing he remembered.
Cas had moved behind him.
He’d said he was sorry.
That stupid son of a bitch.
He was going to kill him when he found him.
If he’s alive.
Dean ignored the thought. He couldn’t afford to think that way.
Cas was alive.
He was going to rescue him and then he was going to kick his ass into next week for pulling a stunt like that.
There were a few chinks in his plan. He didn’t know where they’d gone and he was completely unarmed. They’d said they were taking them to their church, that was probably a lie. Still it was the only lead he had.
He jogged forward searching for another map.
Dean couldn’t help but wonder why they’d left him alive. Since he’d made the choice to die rather than use his free pass out of silent hill, they had to know he’d come looking for Cas.
Maybe they just didn’t consider him to be a threat.
Or because Cas somehow talked them into sparing your life after he knocked you out; which he only did to stop you from starting a fight you had no chance in winning.
Shut up. Dean mentally growled at his own unwanted thoughts.
What did you promise them Cas? Dean tried not to think of all the horrible things those bastards might be doing to his friend right now.
Dean found another map lining the sidewalk. The Church of the Holy Way was located a few blocks away. Even if Cas wasn‘t being held there, he still might find a clue as to where else they might have taken him.
Dean padded softly down the sidewalk, trying not to let his mind wander. He focused solely on reaching the church.
On his way there a sign for a restaurant called Diner 52 caught his eye, and he decided to take a quick detour. He wanted to reach the church as soon as possible, every second he spent not finding Cas was another moment his friends life was at risk, but he needed a way to defend himself.
He was no good to Cas dead.
A restaurant might have something he could use as a weapon.
The front door had been nailed shut with boards; he could probably get it open, but not without making a lot of noise. Dean scanned the front of the building. There was a long bay window that something had taken a chunk out of; dried blood stained the corners of the shattered glass.
The hole was big enough to fit a man.
Dean quietly slipped inside through the broken section, avoiding any remaining glass and started searching. He reached for his flashlight and flipped it on, using it to navigate a path behind the counter.
There were shattered plates and discarded utensils strewn all over the floor.
Dean searched the counter. He found an old blender, coffee maker, and enough jars of honey to have a dinosaur on a sugar high.
He opened a few draws and got damn lucky.
One of them was full of steak knives.
Dean pulled out the largest one and pressed it against the tip of his finger.
Blood appeared.
This would do.
He slipped it into his jeans, grabbed a few smaller ones and shoved one into his back pocket, and another inside his boot.
It never hurt to have a few surprises tucked away.
****
“We’re almost there Castiel,” Claudia sounded pleased with herself.
Cas didn’t bother to respond. He was surrounded on all sides by armed gunmen, and with each step the pressure on his grace seemed to be increasing. It was getting harder to breathe. Whatever being they were taking him to meet was definitely the source of this debilitating energy.
She glanced back at him. “Aren’t you the least bit curious what we want with you?”
Cas glared at her.
“No?” She grinned, when he still refused to bite, she shrugged and kept walking straight ahead. “You’ll know soon enough.”
They walked another few minutes when Cas heard that phantom voice surround him.
Castiel. I’ve been expecting you.
Cas took five more steps.
His vision blurred, his abused grace shuddered, and pain shot from his chest up to his temples. Cas refused to scream as he desperately tried to fight off the attack. Whatever this thing was tore through his defenses, leaving a trail of searing pain wherever it went.
Cas lost the battle and slipped into darkness.
****
Dean turned onto the street the church was located on without any close encounters of the fucked up kind. He could see its tall steeple towering over the houses that covered the rest of the neighborhood. The place looked threatening and uninviting. Huge, with dark paint, and orange and brown stained glass. That funky six-sided symbol was plastered all over it. It seemed they’d been telling the truth about it having to do with their faith.
Dean padded down the street, sticking to the grass in the yards whenever possible to soften his foot steps.
He passed a rusty green Honda civic; something rattled nearby.
Dean’s phone chirped, then quieted.
He held his knife at the ready, bent his knees slightly, and looked around.
The fog swirled around him.
Dean took a few more steps.
His phone started buzzing and hissing.
Scratching against concrete.
Dean spun, something long, and misshapen crawled out from under the car and vanished into the thick fog.
Shit.
Dean could hear it but he couldn’t see it. The thing was circling him.
Stalking him.
Sweat broke out all over his body, leaving him chilled and hot all at once. His pulse quickened, his stomach churned.
He had to get off the ground, level the playing field.
He raced forward, leaping onto the hood of the civic, eyes searching for this newest freak.
Dean saw it skitter by at inhuman speed, it went under the car, then darted out the other side disappearing into the sea of fog again. The thing moved on its stomach, he hadn’t seen any arms, and the movements were spastic. It was the length of a man.
Dean pulled one of the smaller knives out of his boot and waited.
He could hear it moving, circling again.
Dean moved forward a step and bent down as if he were going to step off the car, hoping to lure it out.
It worked.
The thing was in front of him in seconds. Dean watched it rear up slightly, its pulsating and writhing skin stretching as it moved.
It had a opening in its chest just like that mother fucker that had puked black, acid all over him.
Dean hurled the knife right into the opening, it made a noise that was a cross between a weed whacker and a chainsaw and fell flat again.
Dean didn’t give it chance to retreat. He leapt off the car onto its back, and drove the larger blade into its skull over and over again. Blood sprayed out in bursts with each thrust, spattering his face and chest.
When it stopped thrashing Dean stabbed it a few more times, then waited, knife ready to strike again if he sensed even a shiver of movement.
After a minute Dean stepped off the mutant, tensed, and watched it some more.
It stayed dead.
Dean exhaled and tried to ignore his shaking, bloody hands. His labored, harsh breaths sounded loud in the otherwise quiet street.
He wiped the blood on his jeans and glanced up towards the church and saw a woman, dressed in black, probably late fifties, step out from a small, alley to his right. She saw him, her eyes widened in terror, and she half ran, half stumbled across the street in front of him.
Dean stared, shocked, and still shaken from the fight as she ran.
After a few seconds he took off after her, his only thought that she might know where they took Cas.
She ran through an open gate on a fence that was enclosing a single story home.
She wasn’t fast and her skirt kept getting caught under her shoes; Dean reached the fence moments later and watched as she practically face-planted on the grass in the middle of the yard. He could hear her sobbing and babbling, begging him not to hurt her.
He stopped just in front of the waist-high fence and watched her warily. She didn’t seem to have the same glowing personally as the other residents of this town, but he’d been wrong before.
She sat up slowly, never meeting his eyes, her body shaking with quiet sobs. Her long, dark hair streaked with white, obscured her face. Dean wasn’t an expert on women’s hairstyle‘s, but this chick looked like she hadn’t bothered running a comb through it in the past decade. Her clothing was filthy and ratty; he’d seen homeless people that looked better.
Despite her Wicked Witch of the West appearance, he had to try and start up a dialogue with this woman. If she was one of them, she would know where Cas was, if she wasn’t, she still might have seen where they’d taken him.
He hid the knife, raised his hands in an I’m not going to hurt you gesture, and said in his most soothing tone. “You okay over there?”
She reeled back in surprise as if she‘d already forgotten he was standing there. Her eyes were wide, her dirt streaked, red, puffy face was wild with fear. Her arms flailed and she struggled to get up and run again, but tripped over her tattered skirt and fell to the ground again.
Damn, that skirt should have come with a warning label.
“Lady. Calm down,” Dean fought against the impulse to step closer and held his ground near the fence. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
She blinked, stared at him for an unsettling period of time, then said. “You aren’t with them.” It wasn’t a question, but Dean answered anyway.
“Hell no. I don’t even know who they are.”
She nodded slowly, sitting back on her knees.
Dean waited, after about thirty seconds of oppressive silence tried again. “Are you hurt?”
The way she stared at him, you’d have thought he’d asked her if she’d seen a unicorn jump over a rainbow. Dean wished Sam were here, he was good at the sensitive crap. Dean forced himself to smile and tried one more time, he needed this broad to get helpful real quick. “Are you injured?”
She swallowed, almost started crying again, then wrapped her arms around her mid-section, as if she was trying to hold herself together. “No.”
“Good.” Dean couldn’t help but wonder if she was missing a few screws. Her tone, her body language, her wardrobe, it all screamed ‘on the verge of a psychotic breakdown’.
Suddenly her head shot up, her gaze locked with his, and she seemed more alert. Her tone shifted from desolate to focused. “But I’m afraid your companion in the brown trench coat probably isn‘t so lucky.”
Dean felt like he’d been drop kicked in the gut. Maybe this loopy bitch was in on it. The thought brought on a surge of rage as he hopped the fence, and was on her in seconds. Grabbing the collar of her shirt, hauling her to her feet. “What the fuck does that mean? Dean snarled.
She didn’t struggle and her eyes had gone lifeless. She shook her head. “I’m not a part of them…not anymore.”
Dean blinked, confused by her response, but he fired off another question. “Then how did you know about Cas?”
“He seemed kind,” she whispered, “he didn’t reveal me.”
“What are you talking about?” Dean hissed, his frustration with this woman’s inability to follow a single train of thought bleeding into his words and body language.
“I was there the last time they attempted the ritual.” Her fingers were fiddling with one of the sixty dirt stains on her shirt.
“What ritual?” Dean growled. His heart slammed into his chest, while his dread over what was being done to Cas grew.
“The one that took someone very precious to me.” Her voice quavered, her body trembled. She closed her eyes, a single tear ran down her cheek, and fell onto Dean’s hand. He tried not to feel like a complete dick for bullying an obviously broken, and possibly mentally ill woman, but she knew something. Maybe even where Cas was being held. He had to get her to focus again and spill everything.
“Listen to me.” He moved his hand from her shirt collar, to her shoulder, trying to channel Sam. “What‘s your name?”
She seemed surprised that he would want to know. “Dhalia.”
“Dhalia, I don‘t know what happened to you, but if you don‘t help me I‘m going to lose someone important to me as well,” he paused, letting that sink in. “You can stop that from happening. All you have to do is tell me what‘s going on, so I can save him.”
Her eyes locked with his again, and Dean saw a flicker of determination and understanding in them.
Maybe there was something to this nice act.
She nodded. “I will tell you what I know. I only hope it will be enough.”
So do I.
*****
Castiel woke up lying on something cold and hard. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but blackness. There wasn’t a trace of light wherever he was being held.
He tried to move and felt something digging into his wrists and ankles. He was tied down. Judging by the abrasive texture, his best guess was rope. Cas struggled against his bonds for a few minutes and accomplished nothing except to wear himself out more.
An angel of the lord being held down by ordinary rope. Wonderful.
“Comfy?”
Cas froze, his eyes automatically tracked the voice that was coming from straight in front of him, and tried to make out the speaker.
It was useless.
Judging by the voice alone, his captor was a young woman; or was at least choosing to appear as one.
She giggled. “I thought you might be the strong, silent type.“ Her voice sounded both youthful and ancient all at once. She was clearly enjoying herself.
Soft footsteps circled him; whoever this was didn’t seem to be having trouble seeing. Cas could feel power wafting off of her; he’d felt it several times before. This was the source of all his problems in Silent Hill.
“Who are you?” He asked, his tone calm.
A scratching sound, then a match flared, and Cas got his first look at the being behind the curtain.
Silhouetted in a thin shroud of light, was that damn little girl.
The same one that had caused the wreck, and then led them down into that depraved alley.
She lit a candle in the right hand corner of the room. “Oh, I’ve gone by many names Castiel.”
Cas swallowed down his apprehension, and turned his head towards her, straining slightly against his bonds. “Is one of them Valtiel?” Cas guessed.
She smiled. It made him think of a tiger stalking its prey. “Clever little one.”
She lit another candle, in the far left hand corner. There was now enough light for Cas to see that the room was a perfect square. Hanging above him was that damn symbol, it was also carved onto the center of every wall that he could see from his position. He couldn’t see what lay behind him, but he imagined it was more of the same.
“But not clever enough to stay away,” she continued, her lips twitching, her gaze fixated on him.
Cas tensed, he watched as she carried another match to the next candle that rested on the center of a small circular table. On it lay an old, leather book, two wooden bowls, and a long, thin dagger.
She picked up the blade and stroked the handle, her dark eyes caressing it like an old friend.
“I’ve been trying to lure one of your kind here for a long time.”
Cas inhaled quietly through his nose. “Why?”
She walked over to him, and leaned down, running the blade across his cheek.
Cas forced himself not to react, he kept his breathing steady, and didn’t blink as they stared each other down.
“Because I need something from you.” She used her free hand to brush his throat. “You’re the key to my freedom.”
“I won’t help you,” Cas growled. “I‘d rather die.”
“But Castiel,” She pushed the tip of the blade into his skin; he felt the sting as it drew blood. Her lips trembled, and her eyes gleamed. She leaned down and licked the wound on his cheek. Her tongue was like ice, it took all of his control not to jerk his head away. She pulled back slowly, pausing to smell his skin, her expression starved.
“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”
Next Chapter
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