Chapter Text
“Well well well… long time no see.”
Hell had never exactly been a ‘pleasant’ place to take a day trip, and Castiel had honestly thought he’d never have to be back. He was sure that it would close its fiery gates and bury itself deep into the earth with the second coming of his lord, and yet here he was. Chasms went on into infinity in every direction, where people cried out for their loved ones or for a god that didn’t exist down there. It was deafening. Times like these, as he floated through an endless void, made him truly wonder about the world. About God.
Those moments were few and far inbetween. After all, he came here to see a sinner. Interpersonal reflection would have to wait until he was back with the Man Upstairs. Whether or not he cared for those souls whose only crimes were disbelief didn’t matter, because this witch, this bitch belonged there all the same. Hell would all be worth it if it could keep her in. If only hell could do its goddamned job.
She taunted him, calling out from her chains as if every movement, every breath shouldn’t have caused her to writhe in pain. Like she was the angel there. This was a woman who knew sin, who knew pleasure and death like she was god, or thought she was. The wretch was chained tight, stretched in every direction by hot iron and good ol’ brimstone. Poor, misguided soul. Poor misguided soul with a purpose, that is.
“I knew you’d need me eventually, Castiel.” She teased, rolling her head back to look him in the eye. No true angelic glory here, just a trench and cheap dress shirt. Every breath of hers was wheasy and faint. Maybe it was the hook that penetrated her neck, meant to silence her heracies. It obviously hadn’t worked. “Whose body?”
“If you really are smart enough to tell my true name just by looking, then I don’t think it would matter. Not to you.” He straightened his lapels, as if just to prove a point. Even from the horrible, twisted angle the woman was forced to reside in just to see his unfortunately human face, he could see her grin.
“I knew you’d come back for me. God’s got a plan, maybe, but a good bit of hell-raising never hurts. Especially when He forgets who he may just need for a later act. Who is it this time?” Castiel didn’t answer the question as he walked along the chains, jolting her body and tearing her forever-tormented flesh just enough to make her seize and cry out.
“Watch your tongue. You’re indebted to our Lord, witch. He has decided He still has use for you.”
“That’s Doctor, to you and your Lord.”
Every word that fell from her blood-stained mouth was that of a heretic, a follower of Hecate, a descendant from Cain, whatever the truth she was not more than God, nothing more than a sinner too late to be saved.
“Alice.” The angel croned, his face a sneer and his shadowy wings tensing. “You know why I’m here.”
“It’s the only reason we talk anymore. So the man upstairs killed a mortal, hm? And now what, he’s declared he must live?”
“Our Lord…” Castiel began, hands at his sides turning to fists. “...our Lord’s messengers can bring back the soul. But the soul is just the mind. The mind without a working body…”
“He’ll be sent back to his afterlife in less than a minute.” Alice confirmed, tilting her head just slightly upwards, giving her head a rest and no longer meeting God’s creature’s eyes. So he really was here to drag her out. Oh bother. “Alright, Cass-”
“Do not call me that.”
“...Cass, you take me out of this hellhole and I ‘frankenstein’ you up a body, hm? Sound like a deal?”
“The only deal that will take you out of eternal torture.” And keep her out, that much was clear to them despite being unspoken. Angels were too pure for real violence, it was a part of the design. It would take nothing less than a demon to allow them to throw a punch, and they certainly couldn’t kill off a mortal, no matter how… deserving. She’d live out the rest of her mortal life in peace. It wasn’t like they hadn’t played this game before, ever since the dark ages the Doctor had come back time and time again, for her services.
“God must really be out of options.”
“Doctor…” She felt his hand take hers, the ever-forgiving soft touch offset by his horrible strength, as if trying to shatter her bones to remind her where she stood. But the Lord simply would not allow it to be. “...it shall be done.”