Purgatory Blues, for geckoholic
Title: Purgatory Blues
Author: Daxa
Recipient: geckoholic
Rating: T for Teen, just because there is a brief mention of torture and stuff (aka Deans time in Hell).
Wordcount: ~1,200
Warnings: As stated above, mention of cannon torture and stuff.
Author's Notes: Pretty short it must be said, mostly written as an experiment, trying something different out. So yes. Hopefully you enjoy.
Summary: Dean and Benny in Purgatory, looking for Castiel. Deans thoughts on the whole thing, from Benny to actually being in Purgatory and the like.
They were still searching for him. Days, weeks, months, fighting and moving and searching and hurting. Purgatory was nothing like he had imagined it would be, a seemingly endless forest as opposed to, say, a vast wasteland, or a fire filled pit, or an empty city. But it fit, somehow, that the non-human souls would get sent to somewhere like this, a killing ground, the trees and earth and rivers and streams awakening something primal, long since buried deep, let out to roam at last.
The colours were strange, muted, everything seemed dimmer. The air permanently appeared to be cloaked in a light fog, not enough to impair the eyesight of those wandering around in it, but enough to be noticeable, make a difference. Day and night came at strange hours, and suddenly, with hardly any warning, going from dim sunlight to dark skies in less than half an hour. There was no way of telling which way was north, or east, as the sun did not rise as such, just gradually appeared out of the shadows, always in the same spot, straight above. The trees were odd as well, never seeming to grow or change, and yet still hanging on to life when, by rights, they should have died long ago. Rain never seemed to fall here, in the months that Dean had spent fighting and surviving not one single shower had passed over, and yet the rivers (for he had encountered a few of them) still flowed, some fast and powerful, some slow and lazy, the water level in them never changing.
It was freeing, being here, although he mostly tried to avoid that thought, tried to ignore the fact that he enjoyed killing, enjoyed the simpleness of it all, fight or be slain, become the predator or die as prey. He never needed to eat, although sleep was still necessary, not that he had ever gotten much of it, even before his trip downstairs. After all, he had grown up knowing that the monster under his bed could well be real, that there were very good reasons to be afraid of the dark and what lay in it.
And yet here he was, running around with a vampire, although Benny had not tried to suck the blood from his body just yet. Quite the opposite in fact, saving his ass more times than he cared to mention, even going so far as to bandage any of the more serious wounds Dean received (the look of contained hunger in his eyes as he did so set the hunter on edge, even though Benny murmured reassurances in his smooth drawl about how he didn't drink straight from people anymore). He was no normal vampire, and besides, did seem a lot more concerned with getting out of here than with drinking Dean dry. And although he felt like he was letting so many people down for even thinking it, Dean had began to trust him, to depend on him, knowing he would have his back in the fights they got into, knowing the vampire was still with him, would stay with him, until they found Cas and got the hell out of this never ending forest.
So the two of them walked on, and on, up and over hills which gave them the view of yet more forest, down by lively riverbeds, through empty clearings. They talked occasionally, sharing snippets of each others lives, stories, but a lot of the time was spent silent, no need for words. It was strange, how easy it was to walk beside the vampire, to willingly sleep knowing he was near. Part of that was being aware that Benny would wake him at any sign of danger, of company coming near (and whenever Dean jolted up, escaping those nightmares that still haunted him, of pain and fear, fire and ice and needles under his skin, and the worse ones, with him in the position of power, enjoy every second the poor soul under him screamed, Benny would look away, let Dean collect himself, before helping to take his mind off those darker thoughts, goading Dean into debates about movies, books, the best gun to use in certain circumstances, or sometimes he would start to sing, softly, classic old rock songs that Dean knew all the words to).
He lost count of how many things they killed (not people, not like him, or Cas, or like Benny, these were still things, monsters), as there were a seemingly endless number of them out there. Most were alone, some worked in packs, hunting the others around, or just mindlessly fighting, destroying for the sake of it (and where they went after they were killed in Purgatory Dean had no idea, and didn't particularly want to think about what else might be out there. Heaven, Hell and now this place were more than enough for him). Whenever they caught one alive they would ask it if they had heard where Cas was, and though most of them had heard of the angel wandering about (and the human looking for him, the human who might be able to get them out of there, who would taste so good after decades without fresh meat), not many had an idea of where he was. Or just did not want to say, which made that darker part of Deans brain itch to extract the information by force, to make them scream and sob and bleed beneath his hands.
The longer he stayed here, the less human he felt, something Benny brought up now and again, with a smirk for the most part, using it to hide the concern in his eyes. The longer they spent here, the closer they got (the first time Benny called him brother, Dean had lashed out, angry, livid at the notion he would be a brother to a vampire. Now, he returned the sentiment, with ease). It was purifying, and he felt powerful, knowing that now many of the beasts roaming this land feared him, letting the animal inside out to play. He felt nothing, not fear, not anger, when he was watching the light fade from their eyes, only a deep sense of well-being, that this was what he was made for, somehow. And a part of him wouldn't mind staying here for longer, although he needed to find Cas (and of course check on Sammy, make sure everything had gone alright).
Benny caught his eye as they walked, and both of them smiled, weapons swinging from their hands, ready to track down some more creatures, find his angel, keep going forward from there. Purgatory wasn't all that bad, in the end. A nice change from all the crap going on back home, from demons and angels all being dicks, from finding jobs and trying to keep himself busy, keep Sammy safe, prevent the end of the world, all that stuff. So no, it really was an almost welcome change, although Dean wasn't particualry comfortable that he was...enjoying it so much. Still, as his time in Hell had proved, he had another side to him, darker, one that happily cut people into pieces, smiling while doing so. Better to let it slowly burn out here than elsewhere, where he might hurt somebody who actually mattered, after all.
Author: Daxa
Recipient: geckoholic
Rating: T for Teen, just because there is a brief mention of torture and stuff (aka Deans time in Hell).
Wordcount: ~1,200
Warnings: As stated above, mention of cannon torture and stuff.
Author's Notes: Pretty short it must be said, mostly written as an experiment, trying something different out. So yes. Hopefully you enjoy.
Summary: Dean and Benny in Purgatory, looking for Castiel. Deans thoughts on the whole thing, from Benny to actually being in Purgatory and the like.
They were still searching for him. Days, weeks, months, fighting and moving and searching and hurting. Purgatory was nothing like he had imagined it would be, a seemingly endless forest as opposed to, say, a vast wasteland, or a fire filled pit, or an empty city. But it fit, somehow, that the non-human souls would get sent to somewhere like this, a killing ground, the trees and earth and rivers and streams awakening something primal, long since buried deep, let out to roam at last.
The colours were strange, muted, everything seemed dimmer. The air permanently appeared to be cloaked in a light fog, not enough to impair the eyesight of those wandering around in it, but enough to be noticeable, make a difference. Day and night came at strange hours, and suddenly, with hardly any warning, going from dim sunlight to dark skies in less than half an hour. There was no way of telling which way was north, or east, as the sun did not rise as such, just gradually appeared out of the shadows, always in the same spot, straight above. The trees were odd as well, never seeming to grow or change, and yet still hanging on to life when, by rights, they should have died long ago. Rain never seemed to fall here, in the months that Dean had spent fighting and surviving not one single shower had passed over, and yet the rivers (for he had encountered a few of them) still flowed, some fast and powerful, some slow and lazy, the water level in them never changing.
It was freeing, being here, although he mostly tried to avoid that thought, tried to ignore the fact that he enjoyed killing, enjoyed the simpleness of it all, fight or be slain, become the predator or die as prey. He never needed to eat, although sleep was still necessary, not that he had ever gotten much of it, even before his trip downstairs. After all, he had grown up knowing that the monster under his bed could well be real, that there were very good reasons to be afraid of the dark and what lay in it.
And yet here he was, running around with a vampire, although Benny had not tried to suck the blood from his body just yet. Quite the opposite in fact, saving his ass more times than he cared to mention, even going so far as to bandage any of the more serious wounds Dean received (the look of contained hunger in his eyes as he did so set the hunter on edge, even though Benny murmured reassurances in his smooth drawl about how he didn't drink straight from people anymore). He was no normal vampire, and besides, did seem a lot more concerned with getting out of here than with drinking Dean dry. And although he felt like he was letting so many people down for even thinking it, Dean had began to trust him, to depend on him, knowing he would have his back in the fights they got into, knowing the vampire was still with him, would stay with him, until they found Cas and got the hell out of this never ending forest.
So the two of them walked on, and on, up and over hills which gave them the view of yet more forest, down by lively riverbeds, through empty clearings. They talked occasionally, sharing snippets of each others lives, stories, but a lot of the time was spent silent, no need for words. It was strange, how easy it was to walk beside the vampire, to willingly sleep knowing he was near. Part of that was being aware that Benny would wake him at any sign of danger, of company coming near (and whenever Dean jolted up, escaping those nightmares that still haunted him, of pain and fear, fire and ice and needles under his skin, and the worse ones, with him in the position of power, enjoy every second the poor soul under him screamed, Benny would look away, let Dean collect himself, before helping to take his mind off those darker thoughts, goading Dean into debates about movies, books, the best gun to use in certain circumstances, or sometimes he would start to sing, softly, classic old rock songs that Dean knew all the words to).
He lost count of how many things they killed (not people, not like him, or Cas, or like Benny, these were still things, monsters), as there were a seemingly endless number of them out there. Most were alone, some worked in packs, hunting the others around, or just mindlessly fighting, destroying for the sake of it (and where they went after they were killed in Purgatory Dean had no idea, and didn't particularly want to think about what else might be out there. Heaven, Hell and now this place were more than enough for him). Whenever they caught one alive they would ask it if they had heard where Cas was, and though most of them had heard of the angel wandering about (and the human looking for him, the human who might be able to get them out of there, who would taste so good after decades without fresh meat), not many had an idea of where he was. Or just did not want to say, which made that darker part of Deans brain itch to extract the information by force, to make them scream and sob and bleed beneath his hands.
The longer he stayed here, the less human he felt, something Benny brought up now and again, with a smirk for the most part, using it to hide the concern in his eyes. The longer they spent here, the closer they got (the first time Benny called him brother, Dean had lashed out, angry, livid at the notion he would be a brother to a vampire. Now, he returned the sentiment, with ease). It was purifying, and he felt powerful, knowing that now many of the beasts roaming this land feared him, letting the animal inside out to play. He felt nothing, not fear, not anger, when he was watching the light fade from their eyes, only a deep sense of well-being, that this was what he was made for, somehow. And a part of him wouldn't mind staying here for longer, although he needed to find Cas (and of course check on Sammy, make sure everything had gone alright).
Benny caught his eye as they walked, and both of them smiled, weapons swinging from their hands, ready to track down some more creatures, find his angel, keep going forward from there. Purgatory wasn't all that bad, in the end. A nice change from all the crap going on back home, from demons and angels all being dicks, from finding jobs and trying to keep himself busy, keep Sammy safe, prevent the end of the world, all that stuff. So no, it really was an almost welcome change, although Dean wasn't particualry comfortable that he was...enjoying it so much. Still, as his time in Hell had proved, he had another side to him, darker, one that happily cut people into pieces, smiling while doing so. Better to let it slowly burn out here than elsewhere, where he might hurt somebody who actually mattered, after all.