Echoes of Hell (Supernatural Fanfiction Book 4)

Burden of the Past

The room was quiet, save for the faint beeping of the heart monitor beside Dean's bed. The steady rhythm was a comfort, a reminder that despite everything, he was still here. But for how long? I couldn't shake the feeling that something was still terribly wrong. Dean's recovery had begun, but there was something left unsaid, a dark shadow looming over his attempt to return to Hell.

Dean's eyes fluttered open, but his gaze was distant. The bruising on his face was a patchwork of deep purples and angry reds, and his bandaged arms rested on the bed, a stark reminder of his recent ordeal. Every time he tried to speak, a jarring weakness cut through him, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Dean," I said softly, pulling a chair closer to his bed. I wanted to ask him everything but feared pushing him too hard. "What did Crowley promise you? Why are you still so determined to go back?"

Dean's eyes shifted, struggling to meet mine. The effort seemed to exhaust him, and he shook his head, a silent admission that he wasn't ready—or able—to divulge everything. The desperation in his eyes told me that he was caught in a trap much deeper than we realized. I could see that he was torn between the promise of escape and the harsh reality of the pain he was enduring.

I couldn't stand it. The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I had to get answers, not just for my peace of mind, but for Dean's future. Crowley's influence was a dark cloud over everything, and I had to understand what he had over Dean. I knew it wouldn't be easy. Crowley was cunning, his deals twisted with hidden clauses and sinister promises.

Dean's weakened voice croaked, "I—can't tell you... I just..."

"I know," I said, cutting him off gently. "You don't have to say anything right now. But I need to know what Crowley promised you. Whatever it is, it's keeping you bound to him."

Dean's gaze fell, his breathing labored. He seemed to be fighting an internal battle, one that went beyond physical pain. I felt a pang of frustration mixed with helplessness. I knew Dean would never admit it outright, not while he was still grappling with his own demons.

I stood up and walked over to the window, looking out into the dusky sky. My thoughts raced. There was only one thing I could do—find Crowley and extract the truth myself. The demon had a way of making deals that ensnared souls in a never-ending loop of torment. I needed to track him down, force him to reveal what he had promised Dean, and find a way to break that hold.

But hunting Crowley wouldn't be easy. The demon had always been slippery, always a step ahead. I'd need to dig deep, pull on every resource I had, and maybe call in some favors. I couldn't afford to be reckless, though. Dean was already fragile, and the last thing I wanted was to make things worse by plunging into a reckless hunt for Crowley.

As I was lost in thought, the door creaked open, and Bobby walked in, his face etched with worry. "How's he doing?"

"Still the same," I said, not turning from the window. "I need to know what Crowley promised him. I'm thinking about going after Crowley."

Bobby's brow furrowed. "You sure that's the best idea? Crowley's got a way of making things worse. We don't even know what he's holding over Dean."

"I have to try," I insisted. "Dean's not himself, and until I understand what's driving him to want to return to Hell, I can't help him."

Bobby sighed, his face showing his concern. "You know I'll help if I can. But you need to be careful. Crowley's not just a demon you can take down with a few well-placed shots. He's a master manipulator."

"I know," I said, turning to face Bobby. "But I can't just sit here and wait. Dean needs us. He needs answers, and we need to find them."

Bobby nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Just remember, whatever Crowley's got planned, it's probably going to be a hell of a lot worse than we think."