58. Chapter 58

It physically hurt to see Dean this upset and know that ultimately, it was because no one had bothered to interfere before Dean was dragged to hell. Castiel shifted his weight, watching as Gabriel continued to croon to Dean. The tone, if not the words, finally seemed to be getting through to Dean, and his screams quieted. He continued to cry though, and he clutched at Gabriel like he honestly thought that someone was going to drag him away.

The fault was with Michael and Zachariah, of course. Now Castiel knew that their plan had always been for Dean to end up in hell so that the Righteous Man could take up a blade and draw blood, thereby breaking the first seal on the cage. They’d purposely delayed Castiel’s garrison from reaching Dean until that had happened. But that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty. Had he known, he could’ve stopped the hellhound and saved Dean from hell. Lucifer wouldn’t have been set free and the Apocalypse never would’ve happened.

He'd believed - mistakenly, he realized now - that Dean had understood he was never going back to hell; no demon would be foolish enough to try dragging a hatchling or nestling down to hell with them, not unless they wanted to draw the ire of countless garrisons. He cast his mind back in an effort to remember whether or not he'd ever talked to Dean about this and realized that he hadn't. Castiel scowled at himself for the oversight.

He stepped closer, half-afraid that his presence would frighten Dean more. It made sense that Dean would go to Gabriel, since as an archangel Gabriel was more capable of protecting Dean than anyone else. And he couldn’t even bring himself to be jealous for it; he was, more than anything, deeply grateful that Gabriel had picked Dean up and was comforting him rather than turning Dean away.

Balthazar flew back into the clearing, landing next to Castiel, and said, "I took care of the dog. You were right, Gabriel. It wasn't a hellhound. I think it was just some mutt that got separated from its humans and wandered through the barriers you'd set up."

"What did you do with it?" Castiel asked.

"I sent it back to where it came from," said Balthazar, glancing at Dean. "But something tells me it didn't help."

"It helped very much. Thank you," Castiel said, meaning it. He didn't want to leave Dean right now, and if Balthazar hadn't been he would've had to in order to deal with the dog. Because the longer the dog howled, the more upset that Dean became - even though, to Castiel's more experienced ears, a normal dog sounded nothing like a hellhound. Hellhounds had a very deep bark, and their howl could ring high enough to destroy a human's ears. But he supposed that Dean would've only heard the hellhound for a short time, and so would not have learned the difference.

Very carefully, half-expecting Dean to throw Dean back into a panic attack, Castiel reached out and laid a hand on the baby's back. "Dean," he said, because he knew that Dean liked the sound of his voice. "Dean, you're safe here. There are no hellhounds. Nothing is going to hurt you. It's just me, you, Uncle Gabriel, Balthazar and Sparks. No hellhounds, no demons, and nothing that will ever take you away from me." His voice shook a little from the force of his conviction. He would rather die than have Dean be taken away from him now.

Dean tensed under his touch, but actually lifted his head from where it had been buried in Gabriel's neck. One wet green eye peered out at Castiel. "D-Dad-dy?" Dean stuttered.

"I'm right here, baby."

With a sob, Dean launched himself at Castiel. Castiel caught him just in time, wrapping his arms and wings around Dean's body to keep him from falling. He pressed a hand to Dean's head as the baby started to cry all over again, meeting Gabriel's eyes. Gabriel looked as worried as Castiel felt. Castiel cuddled the baby closer, wishing that there was some way he could express all of the protective instincts surging inside of him right now. If Dean were more advanced and had more grace, or if he could connect directly with Dean's soul - but the former was useless to wish for and the latter would require Dean to be a lot calmer than he was right now.

"Shh, Dean. It's alright. You're safe," Castiel repeated uselessly, bouncing the baby gently. "There's no hellhound, and even if there was, we would never let it hurt you or take you away." He tried to reach out to Dean's soul with his grace regardless, but as he'd thought Dean was too upset to respond to the caress.

Gabriel nodded, summoning his sword with a twist of his fingers. "Your daddy's right, kiddo. Here, look at this." He waited until Dean peeked at him, then held his sword up. "You know what this is. It's my sword. Anything that comes anywhere near you or Sam is gonna get impaled. I wouldn't let anything happen to you two, okay? I'm an archangel. I can protect you against pretty much anything. And your daddy is a very strong and reckless angel. No stupid hellhound is going to come sniffing around while we're here."

"I-I could h-hear it," Dean whispered, glancing around the clearing fearfully.

"You heard a dog," Balthazar corrected. He held up a hand, palm up and fingers splayed out. An image formed above his hand of a large Great Dane. "I sent it back to where it belongs, but even if it had come sniffing around it wouldn't have hurt you. And it certainly wouldn't have dragged you back to hell."

Dean flinched at the word, fingers turning white from where he was clutching at Castiel's shirt. "I c-can't -"

"You are never going back to hell," Castiel said firmly. He held Dean with just one hand and his wings, using his other hand to tip Dean's chin up so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "Understand me when I say this, Dean. You're a hatchling now. Your soul is now mixed with grace and that can't be changed. You've always shone brightly, but now you can't be sullied. You can't become a demon no matter what. And even if you could, it would be pointless for any demon to try and take you because I would fight endlessly to get you back."

"So would I," Gabriel said quietly.

"And I," Balthazar said, surprising all of them - even himself, by the look on his face. Castiel spared a smile for both of them but quickly turned his attention back to Dean.

"It's not worth their while no matter whose hit list you're on," he continued, meeting Dean's gaze again. Dean's expression was blank aside from the tears that continued to spill down his cheeks. "And even if you were to die tomorrow from something else, you would ascend to heaven and I would be right there with you. Unless you choose to fall, you will never be consigned to hell. I promise you that, sweetheart. You never have to see that place again outside of your nightmares."

Dean stared at him, searching Castiel's face. He must've found whatever he was looking for, because his face crumbled again and he started to cry. But this time he wasn't crying because he was afraid; these were tears of relief. Castiel hugged him and kissed the top of his head, inwardly cursing himself for never having said those words to Dean earlier on. Especially when he knew that Dean was still having nightmares about hell. It had just never occurred to him that Dean would still think that he could end up back there.

“Did you want to go back to the cabin?” Gabriel asked in an undertone.

Castiel considered the question briefly, then shook his head. “No. I don’t want this to ruin our walk. Let’s move to the lake. Dean likes the water.”

As much as he wanted their nest to be a safe place for Dean, he didn’t want Dean to spend all of his time cooped up there. That wasn’t healthy. And he definitely didn’t want Dean to be scared of going outside. He pondered the matter as they walked, Gabriel pushing the shoulder and Balthazar carrying Sparks. Dean was in such a vulnerable state of mind right now that he couldn’t handle the stress that he normally did. They would have to be more proactive about keeping dogs or anything else that reminded Dean of hell away.

It did make Castiel wonder, though. He was certain that this wasn’t the first dog that Dean had run into since he’d been rescued from hell. So how had Dean handled his fear before? Especially since he wouldn’t have wanted Sam to know. Dean had gone to great lengths to try and convince Sam and Bobby that he was perfectly fine once he was topside, and he certainly hadn’t admitted this fear to Castiel, which meant that it was something he would have struggled through alone.

Knowing him, he’d probably turned to alcohol. Castiel scowled at the thought, clutching the baby a little closer. He hadn’t understood what alcohol was and what it could do when he first encountered the Winchesters, but it hadn’t taken him long to realize what kind of effect it had on humans. Dean in particular had been prone to using alcohol to self-medicate, especially in the later months of the Apocalypse as Sam fell prey to his demon blood addiction. The mental picture of Dean encountering a dog or something else that reminded him of hell and then getting drunk to cope was all too easy to imagine.

Castiel should have been paying more attention. He could admit that to himself now. He’d been blinded by what he’d been told was right, and then he'd been caught up in worrying about the Apocalypse, and somewhere along the line Dean had pretty much self-destructed. Thank God that Dean had held himself together long enough for Castiel to step in. He would never have forgiven himself if Dean had drunk himself to death or been killed on a hunt, especially knowing what they would have missed out on.

They reached the edge of the lake. Balthazar set Sparks on the ground and watched in amusement as she immediately raced over to the water’s edge, seemingly fascinated by the way that the waves were rolling in. Castiel opted to sit down a foot or so away from where the waves reached, settling Dean in his lap. Dean panicked for a moment, obviously thinking that Castiel was trying to pull away.

“No, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” Castiel soothed. “Look, we came back to the lake. You remember when you swam that time? And Uncle Gabriel helped you to fly a kite?” Too late he remembered that the kite flying had been interrupted by the news that Bobby had been stabbed. He hoped that Dean didn’t associate the two events too closely.

Dean turned his head a little to look at the water, but he still clung to Castiel and Castiel didn’t try to push him to move before he was ready. He noticed that Dean was clicking his tongue against the room of his mouth again, but he was holding onto Castiel with both hands and didn’t have a hand free to suck his thumb. Castiel could’ve given him a pacifier, but, on a hunch, he shifted his wings a little closer to Dean’s mouth.

It took a little while. Castiel amused himself by watching Sparks and Gabriel, who was trying to coax the kitten into stepping into the water. When Sparks refused to come closer, Gabriel started spraying water at her. Sparks dodged every shot of water gracefully, then – when the waves had rolled back out – turned and darted towards Gabriel’s feet. He stepped backwards automatically, slipped on the soft, wet sand, and fell over into the water. Castiel and Balthazar cracked up as he surfaced, sputtering.

“I hate you all,” Gabriel said, not without good humor, as Sparks strutted back to Balthazar, purring.

“You have only yourself to blame for that,” Balthazar said, still laughing.

And it was then that Castiel felt it, a gentle tugging on his wing. He flicked his eyes to Dean just in time to see Dean’s mouth closing around his feathers. The baby had his eyes shut, so Castiel couldn’t be sure that he was even aware of what he was doing. But what he did know was that Dean was nursing again, and that opened their bond further so that he could surround Dean’s still shivering, upset soul in grace to comfort him, and really that was all Castiel cared about.