Chapter Text
Hell is very quiet.
Dean didn’t expect that, when he was alive.
When he thought of Hell, he had always pictured it as filled with constant screams, and illuminated by fire and lava lakes.
That was wrong too.
Hell is quiet and dark, and the blackness that hangs over everything seems to muffle every sound, mute every scream.
This has been the state of affairs for his entire residence in the place, which is why it comes as such a surprise when a shriek splits the air, accompanied by an eruption of light that lifts the darkness entirely.
Dean squints in the sudden brightness, a piercing stab of white-hot brilliance that leaves him half-blind in its wake. A sound pierces the air, a whining buzz like the crackle of electricity, and the light cuts out abruptly.
A demon stands where the glowing thing had been, grinning, a strangely illuminated blade gripped in one limb. Before it can so much as move, another creature appears, made of wings and fury, glowing like the sun. It charges at the demon, which melts from the inside, lighting up like a Christmas tree before disintegrating entirely.
The creature turns to him.
I AM CASTIEL, ANGEL OF THE LORD. It says in a voice like thunder and wildfires. I AM HERE TO TAKE YOU HOME.
He stands there, gaping at it, for what feels like a very long time. Eventually, he collects himself, and manages to speak. “Alright.” He says faintly.
The creature seems to ripple, in a way that would normally be more associated with a pond than a giant being of wrath and light. Dean instinctively translates it to a satisfied nod, although he has no clue as to how he knows that.
It approaches him, but then pauses, seeming to be considering something.
ANGELS REQUIRE A VESSEL ON THE PHYSICAL PLANE. It tells him. WHEN I RETURN YOU TO YOUR BODY, MAY I USE YOU AS MINE?
Dean hesitates. Normally, he’d refuse to even consider agreeing to what sounds pretty much like possession, but this is an angel that’s about to rescue him from Hell. Whatever it’s like being an angel’s vessel, it has to be better than this.
Castiel waits patiently.
“Yes.” He tells it.
When he next wakes, it’s to the wrong side of a coffin lid and a resonating hum deep in his bones.