CAS! Dean’s desperation stung Castiel’s head like a metal spike. Castiel was now in the street outside of the Visitor’s Center that Dean had just met Pyramid Head on the second floor. Once inside the angel warding, Castiel had been able to pinpoint Dean’s location with more precision. However his teleportation powers were gone and he had ran down the road.
Cas. Come on, man. Whatever I’d said or did in the past… I take it back. I can’t do this alone. Castiel even heard the whisper of Dean’s voice. He turned around in the street. He knew Dean was near, could almost touch him he was so close. He couldn’t see Dean. Dammit Cas!
“I’m here, Dean,” Castiel said out loud on the street.
Dean left the Visitor’s Center. He was mildly amazed that Cassie had managed to drag his ass up the stairs to the second floor.
Castiel walked towards the Visitor’s Center. Dean had to be inside… And that was when Castiel knew where Dean was exactly.
In two different planes of reality, existence, or dimensions, Dean and Castiel literally passed through each other.
“Cas?” Dean asked suddenly stopping. He could smell the angel. Well it wasn’t really the angel. Dean had never said anything but Castiel smelled like all the things that Dean loved, the interior of the Impala, bacon cheeseburgers, whiskey, sex, his mother’s perfume. Dean’s face screwed up into a look of disbelief. He smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as if he’d suddenly taken a bite out of something sour. Dean spat on the ground. “Oh God. I can taste you.” Dean looked around himself. He was alone in the fog and falling ash.
Cas had also had a similiar experience. When he had moved to walk into the Visitor’s Center, he had felt Dean pass through him. He had smelled the after shave that Dean used, tasted his flesh as closely as if he’d just licked him, except Castiel being an angel the sensations were increased. He’d even caught a glimpse of what Dean was thinking.
“I’m coming for you, Dean.” Castiel promised out loud. This was worse than expected. Castiel had expected to never leave Silent Hill, but he hadn’t expected to die here.
Dean stood in the street, waiting. Cas was near, but he didn’t understand why the damn angel was being invisible to him. Dean’s anger was beginning to boil up. He took a deep breath. Angel or no angel, Dean had to find Sam.
Suddenly static began to emit from the walkie-talkie on Dean’s hip. He braced himself for the darkness. Except rather than the klaxon blaring, he heard the flapping of wings. It wasn’t like the flap of Cas’ wings which always sounded feathery. These were like giant leather bat wings. The static was growing louder and more intense. Dean looked up, a dark shape was appearing in the fog.
“Is that a dinosaur?” Dean asked no one. At first it looked like that flying dinosaur, but as it neared and became more clear it was like a bat man. Not the caped crusader with all the neat toys. This was like a man had grown leathery flaps between his wrists and ankles. It was covered in the brown skin like the child thing, and like the child thing, had only a mouth, no nose, no eyes. As it neared, Dean clubbed it across its non-existent face with the butt of the shotgun. It was knocked backwards, Dean beat it with the shotgun until the bones under the brown skin no longer crunched. Dean wiped the sweat from his brow, leaving a smear of green/black blood.
The radio hadn’t stopped with its static and Dean heard what sounded like dozens of the leathery wings flapping.
“Son of a bitch!” He ran down the street into the fog away from the sound.
Sam slowly raised his head. His arms ached, his wrists were sore, and as he slowly focused on the room around him, he understood why. Sam was on his knees, held upright by metal shackles that looked like something dug up from a movie prop or a genuine castle dungeon. The shackles were anchored to the chest of a large golden statue of a crouched man. Check that. Angel. He gave the shackles an experimental tug. Nope, not a movie prop, real deal.
Sam looked around the room. It was large, mostly dark. From what he could see it looked like a church, but this wasn’t one devoted to God. There were no images of Jesus or Mary, there was a cross, but it looked like more Enochian than Christianity. Sam even recognized the symbol to keep a demon or angel in their meat suit at the bottom. Before him was an altar that looked to be carved from a solid chunk of marble. In the sides seemed to be part of a story. Sam tried to make sense of it. Something about angels embracing people, then angels with one wing being born. That was all Sam could make out from the side in front of him.
“Dean?” Sam whispered. He hadn’t seen his brother. Last thing he remembered was pulling over in the Impala to take a nap. Dean had already been passed out next to him. A young girl, probably no older than sixteen walked across the room from the darkness. She was redheaded, the hair was long and tangled, but held from her head with a white scarf. Well the scarf may have been white at one time, it was now a dirty, dingy gray. She wore a shapeless dress of darker gray, like the color of storm clouds.
“Are you thirsty?” She asked in a sweet, innocent voice. Sam had not heard such innocence in years. He nodded. She produced a flask from her dress. Not the hip flask of a drunk, but this was old fashioned, leather with a cork. She slowly brought the flask to his lips, timidly, as if she was afraid of him. She tilted it and he was surprised, nearly choked on the wine within. It was watered down, but he hadn’t expected wine at all. When he coughed, she gave a little yelp of surprise and back away from him.
“Where am I?” Sam asked, still choking.
“The Church of God,” she replied.
“The Church of God?” Sam repeated. She nodded. Her brown eyes were pale, and so was her skin, a true ginger girl. “This doesn’t look-”
“We are not Christians.” Sam blinked at her.
“Let me go, please. I have to find my brother.” Sam switched subjects. He was giving her his most ‘dew eyed’ as Dean called it, expression. She took a step back from him.
“Why?” She didn’t answer and Sam would have sagged his shoulders if they weren’t being held up by his arms shackled over his head.
“We have prayed for you to come. Through all the trials and darkness we kept our faith. We prayed for your return and now you are here,” the girl began, gushing. Her face was a blush of color.
“I swear, I’ve never been here before.”
“You don’t remember. Its okay, once my mother, arrives, you’ll remember, and you’ll deliver us all.”
“You’re talking like I’m some sort of God-”