Chapter Text
The darkness surrounding the night appeared to be thicker than usual. A soft breeze was kicking through the trees, causing the midnight mist to turn into a subtle fog that covered the land. Tombstones nearly become invisible amongst it. It was by mere luck that Castiel had remembered to bring a flashlight that day that he would effectively be able to use it in the graveyard he had found himself in. He was supposed to come to this location earlier, during the daylight hours, mainly because he had always gone by the saying 'Nothing good happens after midnight'. A phrase that his father had burned into his mind since he was a child.
No matter the time, no matter the location, Castiel had a case to finish. A job that couldn't go undone. With everything going on in the world at this very moment, even if a single monster or spirit was put to rest, that would make the world a better place. A world that he was trying to build. Although, typically he would be out here with his brother, Gabriel. A very goofy fellow with a sharp nose and brown almost auburn hair. The type of guy who would pull pranks in very serious situations. However, this was a case that Castiel needed to do alone. Needed to get back into the game that he has been out of for quite some time.
As the light flashed from the device in his hand, it illuminated the field in front of him. It was rather difficult making each step due to the mist. Quite possible that he could fall down over a misplaced rock or uneven patch of grass at any moment. Each step was slipper from the dew that began to accumulate on the ground. The moist air clung to his skin, making him feel heavier and sticky.
After a few minutes of silence, Castiel's phone began to vibrate in his jean pocket. Thankfully, he wasn't at his location quite yet so he could pick up the call that someone was trying to have with him. Pausing for a slight moment, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the phone, looked at the caller I.D., and swiped his thumb across the screen to confirm the call. Placed it against his ear and spoke.
"Hello, Gabriel." Castiel said calmly.
"Hey, bro-chacho! How's the hunt going?" The voice on the other end of the line was very loud, the tone filled with joy, but hidden behind the words, a hint of anxiety that Cas didn't really notice.
"It's going well. The local's are very friendly, however. Each place I visited kept me for well over an hour and kept bringing me food and drinks, even though I declined several times." The man sighed.
"That's how people are down in the south! Food is their love language. So, tell me what you found out." Gabriel requested.
"Why?"
"Oh come on, man! I just want to help you readjust to the game. After those demons in Nebraska, you kept seeing black eyes on people for a week."
"Those-" Castiel states, moving a tree branch out of his way, "Were nightmares, Gabe. I know what I'm doing."
"Just hear me out, would you? Indulge my super over protective self, okay?"
Castiel let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Not believing that he actually was going to consider going through with this. However, if it will get his brother off his back for a little while, then there's no point in denying him. "Fine."
"Sweet!" Gabriel shouts. "So! What did the locals say?"
"Well, the sheriff thought that maybe the deaths were connected due to the religious affiliation of the local church. Thought maybe an extremist decided to make an occult, and if anyone violated this order, would suffer the consequences." He explained.
Gabriel tsks on the opposite side of the phone, "But you know otherwise."
"They were perfect Baptists. No cult would track them down. However, I was able to find a connection. Each of them were responsible for building a crypt inside of the local cemetery over forty years ago. The very same one that has been rumored to be haunted."
"Why do people think it's haunted?"
"Apparently, after being built, teenagers who would go tagging tombstones heard groaning and loud noises coming from within. The teens tried to break in, but got stopped by a police officer that was patrolling the nearby bar. Ever since then, people have tried to break in, but all leave after hearing a noise out of place." Castiel explained.
The young man looked around after finding a gravel path amongst the grass. In his opposing hand that held the flashlight, there was also a map. A map of the cemetery that he found himself in. According to the piece of paper, the crypt should only be about a few yards away from him. Which, his eyes landed on immediately.
A small building on the very edge of the graveyard, right in front of the brick walls that surrounded the place. The building was tall with a cross on the top of the place. Large barred gates stood in the front, sharp on the edges to prevent anyone from climbing over. A chain and lock was securing the gates shut. As Castiel got closer, he could see small symbols carved into the metal. One that would keep out very powerful creatures from entering. Or, keep from leaving.
"So, what are you thinking? Vengeful spirit?" Gabriel asked.
"I did, up until a few moments ago." Castiel mumbled into the phone.
Pocketing the flashlight into one of the many pockets on the tan trench coat that he wore, as well as stuffing the map right beside it, Castiel puts a hand on the lock, rubbing his thumb against the sigils with a curious eye. Some of them he has seen before. Several came from books that he was made to study by his father and eldest brother, Michael, since he was a young boy. Others were ones that he had learned on the job the past ten years while hunting with his second oldest brother. However, the remaining ones... Castiel has never seen before, and definitely didn't know what they could mean.
"There's demonic sigils on the crypt, how would a demon be able to get past these, kill someone, then get back without breaking them?" He asks his older brother.
"They shouldn't be able to. Perhaps whatever is in there isn't actually a demon?" Gabriel suggests. "Maybe I should come down there, it'll be a little less than a day's drive."
"No, no, it's fine. I can do this by myself, Gabe." Castiel lets go of the lock, and puts a hand into a different pocket and pulls out a kit, a kit used to pick locks.
"Are you sure? I know you wanted to do this solo-"
"I said it's fine! I can handle a case by myself. Those demons in Nebraska, there were several of them. This is probably keeping out one. Besides, I have all the exorcisms memorized and have a vocal recording on my phone if I need to use it."
"Okay, okay... if you say so, Buster Brown. Keep me posted, I'll probably head down that way anyways. Meet up at Big Gersons for lunch tomorrow, got it? Text you the address."
"See you tomorrow." Castiel agrees before hanging up.
The man places the phone back into one of his many pockets, before picking out very specific tools from his kit and placing them into the lock. After a minute of maneuvering and tinkering around, the top of the lock pops open and the chains fall off the gate. Castiel kicks the chains off to the side with his all black sneakers, grabs hold of the bars, and pushes the gate open before going inside. One of his hands grabs the flashlight once more, and the other grabs a pistol that was hidden amongst his coat. Lots and lots of pockets.
First thing to notice was just how dusty the place seemed to be. Cramped to the brim with cobwebs and spiders crawling along the walls. A staircase was in front of him, crumbling a bit due to erosion and harsh weather. Very carefully, Castiel takes his first step and descends. Flashing the light down the steps before him, making sure that nothing was to escape if it happened to jump out at him. If this really was a demon, he did have salt and fuel that he was planning to light up a corpse with, so he would at least be able to defend himself.
A clearing soon opened up in front of him, the ceiling ahead was a bit low on the last step, causing Castiel to dip his head underneath it. The room in front of him was large and wide open, bits of dust were illuminated, being the only source of light besides a window in the far back of the room that was also covered in bars. Pillars of cement were pressed hard against the wall. It seemed to be mostly deserted. There was nothing there to suggest any demonic activity, nor anything that would explain the sounds that those teenagers have bore witness to.
Stepping further into the room, he kept examining the area. Finding that the empty room was more eerie than normal. However, there was a sudden noise. One that sounded like someone was wincing or groaning. Castiel raised a brow and aimed the gun and light where the sound appeared to be coming from, yet, there was nothing there besides an empty torch holder. Walking over to it, the hunter places a hand on the wall, feeling for any grooves or holes that might open into another area.
His bright blue eyes eventually landed on the holder, and he got a wacky idea. Carefully, he grabs hold of the base, feeling the cool metal against his calloused hands, before pulling on it. To Castiel's surprise, a small crack in the wall formed, going from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. The holder wasn't a holder at all, it was a door handle. Quickly, he placed the flashlight on the ground and put both hands on the handle and pulled.
The door was extremely heavy, it could have easily weighed over two hundred pounds with the amount of brick being dragged against the cement floor. With a heavy grunt and one final tug, Castiel managed to get the door fully open, a bit of rubble falling into his jet black hair in the process. He wipes his hands, and takes a deep breath. Mentally preparing himself for whatever was going to be on the other side of this door. Castiel grips his gun tightly and steps inside, eyes narrowed and prepared, but what he saw made him nearly gasp in shock.
Amongst the bugs and dust, along the wall of cement and concrete, there were chains. Lots of chains, all wrapped around tightly on one of the most handsome human beings Cas had ever seen. Even though the man looked severely dirty and ill all at once. He had cuffs on his wrists, forcing his arms up to his sides of his head, ankles planted firmly against the wall as well. What looked to be a collar made out of chains was wrapped tightly around the individual's neck, now allowing any extra room for the man to breathe.
Swallowing thickly, but keeping the gun aimed just in case, his eyes wandered over the person trapped in front of him. The hair that this man had was brown, or dirty blonde. It was hard to tell with the amount of ash and soot, his hair also appeared to be going in several different directions. Dirt was plastered against his whole face, chin, cheek, and forehead. Amongst it all, there appeared to be drying blond just above the man's brow. The clothes he wore were very bare. A dark forest green t-shirt with blue jeans. Didn't even have shoes or socks on either, which also appeared to be covered in dirt. However, there was a necklace hanging around his neck that met the middle of his chest. A golden relic of a face that Castiel had never seen before or learned about from any religion.
Castiel regains his composure after a bit of ogling, and steps forward, one hand letting go of the gun and reaching into his pocket (he has quite a few) and pulls out a flask of holy water, labeled with his name before tossing some of the liquid onto the man's chest, but there was no reaction. That's when the trapped man whimpers slightly, jostling his head from one side to another, appearing to almost be in a trance like state.
This was very strange. There were several indications that this man could be a demon, or some sort of creature that Castiel should be killing right now. It was quite possible that the noises and groans coming from the crypt were caused by this individual. However, that doesn't make much sense. That would mean that the person before him would have needed to be alive for over forty years if not more, when he looked the same age as Castiel did.
The holy water didn't work, meaning the man wasn't a demon. The only conclusion that Castiel was coming up to was the fact that this person, this guy, was a victim of something. Based on the dream-like state they seemed to be in, it's quite possible that there could be Djinn wandering around. That could also explain the deaths around town if the Djinn happened to mark them and they took their own life. Anything was possible in this field of work.
Against his better judgment, Castiel sets down the gun on the floor and walks up to the man, and carefully puts his hands on the other man's face and shakes him. "Hey! Hey, wake up!"
Yet, that did nothing. All the man did was groan and move his head off to the opposite side. Castiel frowns, grabs his lock picking kit once more and starts undoing the man's chains. First the one around his neck, then the ankles. The entire time, Castiel took note that these restraints were also covered with the sigils that were on the bars on the outside. He stands up and works on the one's on the other's wrists. A second later, they were all done, and the man fell down to the ground with a harsh thud as Cas barely had time to catch him.
Another groan and whimper escaped the man's throat, and very slowly he started opening his eyes. Castiel knelt beside him, ready for an explanation or the need to fight, when he caught a glimpse of the others' eyes. Bright emerald green, lazily scanned the area, confusion and worry filled the space between recognition. As the man's eyes landed on Castiel, they widened and he shoved Castiel back, causing the hunter to fall backwards. Grabbing his gun and standing up immediately, just as the other had done.
"Where am I!?" The man shouted at Castiel, his bright eyes staring at him with fear, even as the other tried to put on a very fake strong front.
Castiel talked calmly, it wasn't the first time he had saved victims who acted very defensively as if he was the one who kidnapped them. "You're in a crypt at Niceville Florida."
The man's confusion didn't dissipate, in fact, it only seemed to grow as the anger slowly melted from his face. His eyes glanced off to the side, staring at the chains and cuffs that he was in only seconds prior.
"My name's Castiel." He states, taking a step forward with the gun still ready to fire at any moment, "What's yours?"
The man looked back to Castiel, lips slightly parted, his wide eyes looking the other up and down before resting on the other's face. "Dean."
"Dean, what's the last thing you remember?" He asks.
"I... I don't remember." The man known as Dean said softly, his stiff and defensive stance went loose, although his shoulders folded in on himself slightly as he looked around once more, one of his hands pressing against the wall, lip quivering slightly, studying the area around him.
This wasn't Castiel's first time either handling someone who didn't remember being captured in the first place. So, he kept his very soft nature and slowly tucked the gun back into his trench coat, but kept his hands out in front of him to show Dean that he wasn't a threat. "That's okay, that's okay. Just take a deep breath and try to calm down. That's common for someone who's gone through a traumatic experience."
Dean shook his head, looking back at Castiel once more, his hand curling into a loose fists as he dropped his arm back down to his side. "No, you don't understand. I don't remember. I don't remember anything ."
Castiel raised a brow and slowly lowered his hands, "What do you mean?"
"I don't remember anything!" He repeats, a bit of fear and anger creeping into his voice. "I don't know who I am, where I live, I-" Dean clasped his hands together, folding them over his mouth as he tried to think, think about anything that could help him identify who he was.
"Look, we can figure this out." Castiel mumbled under his breath.
For this being an easy case, he thought, this was a very different turn of events. There are just things that you are prepared for and other things that you are not. This was definitely one of the things that he didn't expect to happen. A human, who looked gorgeous by the way, was a victim of something that he couldn't remember. Even then, now that same man didn't know who he was. But, he can figure this out. All he has to do is take Dean to a local hospital and they can figure out who he is and figure out where he belongs. It's not Castiel's problem to figure out.
However, he could not ignore how there seemed to be a lot of factors here that seemed to be trying to keep Dean held within this prison. Even though he wasn't a demon, there must be something else here that he is missing. All he wanted to do was help, the case he came here for can wait until he figures out what's going on here. If Dean is some entity, like a ghoul or something, then he can handle that later. For now, he needed to make sure that this human before him wasn't the kind of thing that needed to be shot in the back of the head or stabbed in the heart.