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[always_enduphere]

The chapel is small.  Built for mourners on the edge of the dead, its walls are clean and white, sturdy, meant for shelter.  Wood and brick, not meant to contain the darkness now held within them, twitching in the form of the body strapped prone to a hasty trap made of splintered pews.

It's quiet inside, removed enough from the city that the only sounds are rattling breaths from the body in chains, snatches of anxious voices and the occasional rumble of the floor, creaking and groaning from unseen onslaught, but holding.

There's an energy in the air, an electricity that raises hackles along with hairs, pouring from the ravaged body in an angry throb, but within the trap it can't do more than rattle walls, beneath the chains that smoke its skin, it can't do more than hiss curses on borrowed breath, and promise agonies yet to come.

In the center of the trap, the thing wearing Dean Winchester bares its teeth, blinking black towards any with stomach left to look at him.

Comments

[godless_son]

Castiel's lips pull back in a snarl as he realizes what Sam is trying to do. What he has clearly been doing despite knowing what it led to the first time. There is no time for that now as he splays a hand on Dean's forehead, shaking with the effort of keeping the demon still inside him.

"Now!" he shouts, knowing Mike and Neil will be right behind him.

[always_enduphere]

It hurts. Attention too divided to hold him under, the demon lets Dean feel everything, every hot scrape against his insides as the thing digs in, bears down, anchors itself against removal. Dean feels full with it, every part of him invaded, and Sam...Sam is in front of him, body held in a stance Dean knows well, and a look in his eye Dean knows even better.

"Sammy," he mouths, screaming through another ineffectual tug, "Not like this."

[forthedog]

Something's not right. It's not just in Dean's words, almost unintelligible under the agony, it's in how everything feels, every hair on his arms and the back of his neck lifting. More even than the waves of wrongness that have been slamming into them all since they got here.

He's not even sure he would call this wrong. It doesn't feel wrong.

It feels like power.

He glances back at Sam, doesn't know how to make sense of what he's seeing - but he doesn't need to understand it. Castiel has told him. There's no fucking time.

He grips the knife and drops into a crouch, looking for the brand on Dean's foot.

[likeaplanet]

It all starts happening so fast.

There's a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, all that power crackling in the air and the desperation in Dean's voice. There was a reason Sam was slinking around, hunting in secret. I knew it, but maybe I didn't really understand. But I don't have time to think about that. Not now.

There's no enough time. This has to be done quick, Cas said. We've got one chance at this, or Dean's gonna die.

Stepping behind the splintered pew, I yank Dean's shirt out of his jeans, shoving him forward to get at the brand burned into the small of his back. I glance up at Castiel, just for the span of a second -- This better fuckin' work -- and then I draw the knife down and slice across the brand.

In the dim light of the chapel, all this blood looks nearly black.

[jianhuo]

It's taking all of Saffron's self control to hold herself back. What she would do if she could rush forward to Dean, she doesn't know, but she can't stand not being able to do anything. She knows it's safer for all of them the fewer people in the trap with him, so she stands right at the edge, her toes right at the edge of it, watching everything and everyone with wide, alert eyes and a lump in her throat she has to keep pushing down.

Her heart wrenches at the sound of Dean's voice, but her eyes are on Sam. He's doing something, though she doesn't understand what, and she waits, ready to spring into action at any moment.

[theprodigalson]

He's only dimly aware of the others in the room, those holding Dean in place as the demon writhes within him. Focused entirely on his brother, Sam feels the power course through him as he pulls at the darkness, the cloying, slimy, blackened soul that's taken Dean captive. He grips it and pulls, his lips curling into a faint grin as the demon starts to cave, slipping out through Dean's opened mouth in a thick, rope of smoke and sulfer.

With a twist of his wrist, Sam pulls harder, fingers curling into a near fist as pressure builds behind his eyes, pounding pounding pounding..

It hurts, it hurts, But Sam's felt worse and he pushes through, smile slipping into a pained, panicked grimace when something catches, the billowing smoke sticking, hovering, and then reversing.

No.

Gritting his teeth, Sam concentrates as hard as he can, the dark blood in his veins nearly boiling as the pressure builds. But it's too late, too little, and in seconds the smoke has cleared completely, sucked right back into Dean's ragged, ravaged body. Sweating, panting and bleeding, Sam crumples, broken and defeated as his knees hit the hard floor.

[godless_son]

Castiel stares, transfixed as the smoke rises out of Dean's body. As much of a mistake this is, Sam doing it this way, there is still a flare of hope before it all falls apart.

"No!" he shouts, tightening his grip on Dean's head as he keeps the demon as bound and helpless as he can, pushing with everything he has. It's not going to be enough, not without Sam doing his part.

"The exorcism, now! Mike, Neil, hold him still."

[always_enduphere]

The darkness inside him roars its triumph, stretching wings not yet clipped until the ceiling cracks over all their heads, the windows of the little chapel bursting out into the night. Dean has no breath left for screaming, body overwhelmed and sagging into the many hands he can feel all over him, holding down, hanging on, but he's slipping. He's just so fucking tired.

He doesn't feel it when the demon lifts its head, blind behind black eyes that dance with malicious laughter at the sight of not one Winchester bleeding and broken, but two.

[forthedog]

He looks up just as he cuts the brand. He doesn't see Sam, senses only in a distant kind of way that something has taken a turn. Feels Neil close to him, Castiel humming with power, Helen near and waiting. All of these things are real and solid and he's holding onto them because they're what he has...

But then he sees those black eyes, that rage and glee, and feels the knife in his hands even as it slices into Dean's skin, and it's one last wrench of something in him reaching out to what it knows.

Everything could have gone a very different way.

But it didn't.

He reaches out, one hand fumbling for Neil's, as his other tightens on Dean's hip, the knife finally falling away with a clatter. Hanging on for life, though he's not sure how dear it is.

They're all on the edge of the blade now.

[likeaplanet]

For one horrible second, I panic. The sound of Sam hitting the floor, that fucking awful laughter filling the little chapel, and what sounds like fear in Castiel's voice. It's too fucking much. But I hold on, an arm locked across Dean's chest. He's bigger, stronger than me, even when he doesn't have a demon in him.

I'm not gonna be able to hold him long.

"Helen!" I shout, fumbling at the hand that curls around mine. I don't look at Mike, can't spare a glance, but I know he's there, and that's really all that's keeping me together.

[jianhuo]

Saffron isn't far from Sam, and when he drops to the floor, she darts quickly around the edge of the trap to his side, though she's not sure what in the 'verse she can do to help him. There are tears standing in her eyes as Castiel calls for the exorcism, and then Neil shouts her name, but her voice is steady as she starts the Latin.

She was alone last time, but now Sam is here too, to say the words with her, make them stronger. This time it will work.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii..." Still beside Sam, she stands facing Dean and the rest as she says the words, loud and clear.

[theprodigalson]

There are knives cutting into Sam's skull, agonizingly sharp blades in his temple and forehead, twisting as he tries to catch his breath.

But he can't.

Blood is pounding in his ears, roaring, and it takes everything in him to lift his head, to watch as Castiel holds his brother down, and Mike and Neil press blades to his... No. No, it's not supposed to go this way. Sam's supposed to be able to do this. He's supposed to use the one redeeming quality in this curse he's been given to save his brother. They don't need to cut him open, they don't need to break him to free the parasite inside him.

But the power inside him is draining with every passing second, evaporating from his veins, leaving him a useless, empty shell.

And they're running out of time.

Blinking, Sam comes back to himself, finally sucks in a few gulps of air and, with his eyes locked on Dean, joins in, the words falling from his lips with barely a thought for how well he knows them. Like some sick nursery rhyme.

"Ergo, draco maledicte," he whispers. His voice slowly growing stronger as he wipes away the blood leaking from his nose. "Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire..."

[godless_son]

Castiel's eyes flutter shut for a moment before opening, glowing white as grace pours into Dean's body, for once restrained, pulling instead of burning. It's not enough on it's own, not without destroying Dean but once the exorcism starts, he feels the demon loosen it's hold.

It thrashes against Castiel's grip, fighting harder as the chorus of voices grows stronger.

[always_enduphere]

Castiel's fingers are five points of fire pushed past tender flesh and bone into the tempest beneath, shoved deeper by the words poured into the air around them. It feels like bow strings snapping beneath Dean's skin, flood waters pushing him over and under and back to the surface again, the claws dug deep inside of him wrenching as they're yanked up like weeds.

With the anchors branded into Dean's flesh gone, there's nothing left to stop the thing inside him being gathered up piece by unholy piece, and it tears at as much of Dean as it's able as it goes. It's agony, but the pain is far away now, a black speck on a distant shore as Dean's body begins to fail him, consciousness slipping into waters that carry him away further still. He can hear them, voices he loves so well, can feel their hands, but he can't reach back, can't do a thing to stop the demon intent on pulling him out in its wake.

Dragged out clawing and screaming, the demon gathers its remaining strength into a fist and squeezes hard, feels the last feeble twitch of Dean's heart go still before it lets go. It's going to hell, but everyone in this chapel is going with it, one way or another. Satisfied, it lets itself be tugged from Dean's chest and out his throat, past slack slips and screaming into the underworld below.

[forthedog]

He's never seen anything even remotely like it.

All his time in the Realm, on the island, so many strange things, nothing like this. It's more than smoke, it's rage and spite made semi-solid, and he stares up and watches it go, crouched with his arm curled around Dean's waist and his hand clutched tight in Neil's. Watches it vanish and feels no satisfaction.

If this is done, he's not sure what done means.

He doesn't think about what he does next. The hand against Dean's ribs moves upward as he starts to rise, up to Dean's chest, over his heart.

Where there's nothing.

He's silent. Doesn't move. Everything in him is ice.

[likeaplanet]

The force of it is almost enough to knock me back, that black cloud of crackling energy rushing up toward the ceiling, so close that I can practically feel it. But I keep my hold on him, refusing to let go, eyes wide as I watch it pour out of him.

Then it's quiet.

It's the look on Mike's face that has me moving, my hand creeping up toward Dean's throat.

"Cas," I say, my voice hoarse and hardly sounding like my own. "Cas, he's not breathing."

[jianhuo]

Her voice feels stronger as Sam starts saying the words with her, giving them an extra boost. They say them through to the end, and though Saffron can hardly believe what she's seeing she keeps her eyes on Dean.

For a moment, the silence is deafening. None of them seem to be moving. Then Mike's hand slips up over Dean's chest, followed by Neil's, and at his words Saffron feels like her own breath has left her body in a whoosh. This can't be it. They have to have saved him.

[theprodigalson]

Still aching all over, Sam watches with wide, stunned eyes as Castiel grabs hold of Dean and... and-- He has no idea, really. He's clearly doing something angelic, something powerful. There's a crackle in the air as he and Saffron finishes the exorcism, Sam somehow able to keep his voice calm and firm and clear despite the pain still splitting his cranium in two.

But it's working. It's actually working this time, the thick, grey demon soul erupting from Dean's mouth to hover, dank and horrid for a few moments before dissipating, dropping back to Hell where it belongs.

There's overwhelming silence then, crushing as they all stare at Dean's slumped, crumpled form. Mike moves first, his hand spreading wide across Dean's chest and Sam can barely even here when Neil speaks, but the words are still chilling.

This isn't how it was supposed to go at all.

And he can't lose Dean. Not again.

"No," he breathes, dropping to his knees at Dean's feet, hands reaching up to clutch his brother's face, lifting his limp head. "No, no, no. Cas. Cas, do something. Do something!"

[godless_son]

The world, in all its vastness and infinite noise narrows down to nothing but the silence of Dean Winchester's heart in that moment. There are cries all around him, hands all over Dean's body but all Castiel can hear is pressing silence as he rips away the chains holding Dean up and steps over them all, laying Dean on the ground in one swift movement.

He presses a hand over Dean's heart, eyes whiting out again as he draws on every remaining shred of grace, every reserve of energy. His wings spread, blocking out the light spilling in from the bright moon as he forces his grace into Dean, his body jolting, back arching violently as his heart restarts. Castiel is vaguely aware of a high pitched noise filling the air as his grace continues to spill out, glass shattering in the few remaining windows.

It is not going to be enough, not to erase all the hurt. He restarts Dean's lungs, both of them enveloped in blinding light as the internal bleeding is stopped. It begins to die out far too quickly and as it fades entirely, Castiel notices Dean's still broken arm, his blood loss and his still ash white face before collapsing by his side.

"Call an ambulance," he rasps, opening his eyes to stare at the side of Dean's gasping face. "Now."

[forthedog]

It's beautiful.

It's horrible, all of it. Horrible in a way that's singular and frozen and just goes on and on, locked into a single apocalyptic moment. He falls back and watches, groping for Neil again, dry-eyed and numb.

And then the light. Bursting. Beaming out like the heart of the universe, scattering itself through the air and delineated by dark wings. He watches, unaware of anything but the power being unleashed in front of him, face wet with the tears that wouldn't come until now.

And then that breath, and it's like he can breathe again with it.

He fumbles for his phone. Has no idea if he even has it, and it's taking so fucking long, and it might still be too late. But then suddenly it's in his hands and he's dialing.

He's not even sure what he says. He can't stop looking at Dean's chest as it rises and falls.

[likeaplanet]

Cas all but knocks me over to get to Dean, lifting him away from all of our groping hands like he weighs nothing. Fallen back onto my ass on the hard stone, all I can do is watch, holding my breath, only half aware of my hand curling around Mike's.

When the light comes, the sound with it, I don't think to cover my ears until it's almost too late, my face half turned away from the last bright pulse.

And then it's just quiet, my ears still ringing, but under that, I can hear the rattle of Dean's steady breath.

Letting out a strangled sob, I wipe a hand across my face, stopping myself just short of crawling over toward the two of them. I dunno what stops me. Maybe it's Cas's face, and the fact that I was just reminded how fuckin' scary he can be. The fact that I'm pretty sure Cas isn't gonna let anybody touch Dean right now, without his permission.

[jianhuo]

For a moment Saffron is frozen, but Mike gets to her phone before she can react, and when she can move again it's to rush over - not to Dean's side, though that's where she wants to be, but to Neil's, falling to the ground beside him and blindly reaching out for his hand.

She ignores the ringing in her ears, the light behind her eyes that's lingering after what Castiel did. She's never been the type to pray, but she's begging now, with all her might, for someone or something to make sure Dean is okay.

[theprodigalson]

Some deeply ingrained part of Sam wants to protest calling anyone, still clinging to the idea that ambulances and hospitals and simple doctor's appointments are an absolute last resort. But if there's ever been a last resort, this is it. Dean is dying, again, and Sam is powerless to stop it.

He's still crouched before his brother when Castiel swoops in, hands pressing, clutching and then-- then he's doing that angel thing again and Sam wants to watch, wants to take in the full force of this angelic creature. But the light is blinding and the sound is-- His hands fall from Dean to press at his ears, the vestiges of the blackened blood in his veins curdling.

It's over as quickly as it began, Sam's ears ringing as he blinks his eyes open again, the entire room eerily quiet.

But Dean's breathing.

It's pained and rattled but, fuck, Dean is breathing.

Fighting tears, Sam reaches out for Dean's hand, enveloping it both of his own and squeezing tight. "You're gonna be alright," he whispers. "Cas saved you, okay, Dean? You hear me. You're gonna be alright. You're gonna be just fine."

It still feels too early to be completely out of the woods, but Sam's had so little to hope for lately that he can't help clinging to this.

[godless_son]

It's all Castiel can do to roll over, hand coming up to rest over Dean's now beating heart, trying to sense what he was and was not able to fix. He presses his forehead to Dean's shoulder, noting the still broken arm, the blood loss and the general run down quality of his entire body.

"He's going to live," he rasps. "One of you carry him outside. I will fix this place when Dean is safe."