#esp the 'i've got you' and the destiel parallel of it all

[angelsdean]

In the end, the descent into Hell is easy. 

The stairway to Heaven had crumbled. The pearly gates were closed. Sam’s fervent prayers fell on absent ears. 

He was fresh out of cosmic beings to leverage for favors. Well, except…. 

It was strange how easy it had become to traverse the realms of the afterlife. Before, a ticket to Hell would cost you your soul, or a nasty encounter with a Hellhound. Now, a simple spell would do. Day trip to Hell, who would’ve thought? 

Down, down, down he goes into the muggy depths of the Inferno. Into the first chamber. Then advancing through long, winding corridors. He encounters no one. Strange. Finally, he arrives at the heavy doors to the throne room. They open before him, a chest cavity expanding, and there in the center sits Rowena in red, the bloody heart of it all. 

“Samuel.” Her shrewd eyes rake over him. She doesn’t look at all surprised to see him. 

“I take it you were expecting me.” 

“I sensed you the moment you stepped through the portal. Being non-corporeal gives one a certain omniscience. Little happens within these walls that I don’ know about, my dear.” 

Sam internally shudders at the word omniscient, thinking of Chuck and the maddening uncertainty he brewed in them when he claimed such powers. 

“What brings you here?”

The question draws Sam back to the present. Right. Rowena may be able to see all within her tiny kingdom of Hell, she's in the dark about all that has transpired on Earth since Sam’s last visit. The truth of it, the words he must say next, stick in his throat. He can’t—He hasn’t said any of this out loud. Hasn’t spoken to anyone in the weeks since everything happened. These were the facts: 

They defeated Chuck. 

Jack then vanished. 

And then Sam had to burn Dean. 

And before any of that, Cas had sacrificed himself in a move that Sam still did not fully understand. Dean had been sparse on the details. And now he couldn’t ask him at all. Because Dean was—He—

“Dean died.” 

His voice warbles around the words. They don’t sit right in his mouth. He shouldn’t be saying them. 

“Oh, Samuel.” Rowena appears before him in a blink, a hand pressing to his cheek. 

“They’re all—they’re gone. Dean. Cas. Jack.” Tears spring forth. He hasn’t cried either. He hasn’t let himself. But now, with Rowena opening her arms to him, he sinks down, down, down till they are both on the stone floor, Sam cradled in Rowena’s embrace as he sobs. “They’re dead and I have no one left. Nothing. They’re just all gone!” 

Fingers comb through Sam’s hair in a soothing shush. “There, there. Shh. I’ve got you.” Then, more forcefully, tipping his chin up to lock eyes, “I’ve got you.”

Samwena ficlet be upon thee! inspired by ruminations on this post