In My Dreams (7)

Word Count: 540+ words

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

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The instant thing that hit you was the scent of death. It was overwhelming and quite literally hellish.

Besides the aroma that told every part of your body it shouldn’t be there, the demons instantly knew your group was there.

It was like they could sense when humans were there.

The black-eyed creatures practically threw themselves onto you like a pack of wild dogs.

Sam and Dean did their best to ward the monsters away from you and Castiel, buying the two of you enough time to sneak away unseen.

“I believe the room Gabriel is being kept in is this way,” Cas whispered, ducking around a corner with you to avoid a pair of stray demons.

As the group passed, you and the angel made your way down a few twisted hallways that led to a single door. Foreign but familiar symbols were etched along the door frame to which Cas groaned at.

“Those are sigils. They prevent angels from exiting or entering the room. You will have to get in and scratch out the marking from the inside.”

He nodded toward the door as if nudging a child to it’s first day of school. All of this was brand new to you not long ago, how could you be expected to do this alone?

You checked both ends of the hall for demons, and upon finding nothing, you stalk to the door. It’s large, rusted-over and surprisingly unlocked as you carefully push the handle away from you. The door slides open with the smallest creak, revealing what seems to be a throne room.

A sudden wave of pain rushes to your head. All you see before you black out is the body of a man in a dark suit.

“I’m looking for a bargain, Crowley.”

The voice came from your body and sounded an awful lot like you.

There was no way it could be, right?

In front of you was the same room you were just standing in. On the throne sat a man with a well-tailored suit, dark hair, beard, and an intimidating stare.

“Not a chance, love. Though I’d absolutely adore your soul, you know my rules. I’ll play nice once the Winchesters do,” he spoke in such a deep Scottish accent that you’d never heard anything quite like it before.

You awoke quickly to the sound of Cas calling your name.

“I’m here,” you mumbled, quickly remembering the mission at hand and panicking.

“Are you okay?” The angel sternly whispered.

Both of you knew the headaches and visions were getting more frequent by the day.

“I’m fine,” you sighed. He was bound to tell the Winchesters after this ordeal was done.

Cas grabbed your arm and helped you into a standing position. Black spots dotted your vision, but the headache had gone away. Behind Cas was the man you saw before fainting and next to him was…

“Ketch, pleasure to meet you,” the suited man, apparently British, nodded to you.

You acknowledged his greeting and gave your name, though you weren’t entirely focused on him, but the being beside him.

The archangel looked nothing like the one in your dreams. He was battered, beaten, tortured, and his eyes showed the fear that radiated off of him.

“Gabr-“

“Let’s save greetings for later and get out of here before Asmodeus has our heads,” Ketch suggested, grabbing the sleeve of Gabriel’s dirty outfit and pulling him toward the exit.

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