This is the first in a 4-story arc of what I'm calling 'Sue-Pernatural Ficisodes.' It's my therapy to erase season 8 from my head and replace it with something that actually makes sense – with the Winchesters in character – that will get me to the same place to begin season 9. I'm not going to go into why I disliked season 8 (if you want to know, check out my re-write of Taxi Driver!) since my therapy worked and I no longer remember it. Thanks to my wonderful beta, Sharlot, whose insight and dedication made these stories much better than I alone could offer. I will be posting a new 'ficisode' each Tuesday, one act each evening Tuesday through Friday, with the new 'ficisode' debuting the following Tuesday. Now, I invite you along for the ride…

Still they ride, on wheels of fire.

They rule the night.

Still they ride, the strong will survive

Chasing thunder… through the night.

Journey

Still They Ride – Season 8 AU

Act I

Sam Winchester stifled a yawn, rubbing the itch of much needed sleep from his eyes. He let his gaze drift through the front windshield of the Impala to the large stone church on the corner, forcing himself to ignore the jagged crack running halfway across the glass. He had no doubt Dean would be able to fix the damage to the front end of the car caused by Meg's crash through the sign at SucroCorp. Just like he would be able to fix the crack in Sam's heart if he could find Dean and get him back.

After Crowley's disappearing act in Dick Roman's lab, Sam had wasted precious little time knocking over equipment and chemicals before doing as Kevin had suggested and setting the place on fire. He hadn't stopped to check on his handiwork, but had learned of the devastating explosion that had followed his escape from the building on the news later that evening. The lab had been destroyed and the creamer or whatever it was that Kevin had been so worried about had gone up in flames with it.

At least they had won that point.

And lost so many more.

It had taken him days to figure out Crowley's cryptic comment about the weapon having a kick. He'd stuck around, hoping to find some sign of Dean or Castiel, until he had deduced that they had probably been transported to the same place Dick had ended up.

And where did monsters go when they died?

Sam still shuddered to think of his brother lost in Purgatory. He wasted no time high tailing it back to Rufus' cabin in Wyoming, digging through every book Bobby and Samuel had accumulated about Purgatory. After weeks of exhaustive research, he'd found what he hoped was a clue.

St. Peter's Gate.

There wasn't much known about Purgatory, but according to Dante, human souls entered Purgatory through St. Peter's Gate. They stayed there, enduring punishment for sins, waiting to be cleansed and accepted into Heaven.

Sam wasn't sure how much of Dante's narrative was believable – he knew Purgatory wasn't just a holding ground for human souls, but a final destination for monsters' souls when they died – but he hoped beyond hope that the Gate was real. If there was a part of Purgatory accessible to human souls, a part separate from the monsters, then maybe he could find that gate and be one step closer to finding his brother.

He knew if Dean was cast into Purgatory because of the weapon's repercussion, odds were he hadn't ended up in the human soul part. When were the odds ever in their favor?

No, if Dean was indeed in Purgatory – and that was a big if – Sam had no doubt he had ended up smack dab in the middle of Monsterland. From what he could garner from his research, Purgatory wasn't like Hell. Hell, he knew from personal experience, you endured. Hell was meant to be eternal, a torture with no escape. Purgatory on the other hand, had a promise of Heaven. So, theoretically, there had to be a way in or out – if you survived.

And he prayed to a God he didn't even believe was listening that Dean would be able to survive.

The dawn was just starting to cast a golden light on the large wooden doors of the basilica. This was the oldest basilica in the U.S. and the only one that could be a possible location of St. Peter's Gate. He'd driven non-stop to Minneapolis from Wyoming, knowing his brother didn't have much time. He wasn't sure if time worked in Purgatory like it had in Hell, but he wasn't taking any chances. It had been three months since Dean had disappeared. There was no way Sam was leaving him there for a minute longer than he had to.

Of course, Castiel had been transported with him and Sam fervently hoped that the angel would be able to shield his brother from the worst of Purgatory's natives. That's assuming the angel was even in the same place as Dean and that he'd not been distracted by some monster bees or monkeys and had actually taken it upon himself to keep Dean safe. Considering Castiel's mindset the last time he'd seen him, Sam wasn't counting on the angel saving his brother again.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car and quickly crossed the empty street. He swallowed hard as he approached the stone steps, his hand fingering the paper in his pocket that held the prayer he would need to open the gate.

This was it.

Months of research, preparations, time ticking by… If he was wrong…. He shook his head slightly, ignoring the fringe of hair that covered one eye.

He wasn't wrong.

This would work.

It had to.

…...

He had no idea how much time had passed. It seemed like only hours, yet it felt like a lifetime. Dean kept moving, his eyes taking in the shadows, moving in the dim light.

Purgatory.

Fantastic.

And why not? He'd already been to Heaven and Hell – why not complete the trifecta? When it came to crappy situations, the Winchesters left no headstone unturned.

He'd stayed in the clearing for a while, not wanting to believe Cas had just zipped out and abandoned him, but when the angel hadn't returned, and the shadows started closing in, his instincts told him to move.

He thought he could make out red, glowing eyes on some of the shadows but wasn't sure whether it was his imagination at the time.

He had no doubts now. He'd run directly into some of the shadows, and found himself trapped within the darkness, his arms and legs mired down as if stuck in slow drying cement. He'd managed to get a hand on his silver knife and he thanked every deity he'd ever heard of that the metal had the same effect on the monsters here as it had back on earth. He still had his silver Colt 1911 and a pocket full of silver, salt and consecrated iron rounds, but it was the knife that had been keeping the shadows at bay since the first encounter and he hoped the Purgatory hot-line was making sure they stayed clear for a while at least.

It was obvious the shadows were the souls of the monsters killed on earth. Vampires, werewolves, changelings, it was impossible to distinguish one from another, they all projected an aura of unrelenting evil – a darkness he never felt back home. The worst part of the souls touching him was when they stopped. He could almost feel his own soul turning dark – like parts of him dying even though there were no physical wounds. It was like the shadows had sucked his life – his humanity – right out of him.

He kept moving, the light changing, the scenery altering, but the shadows inhabiting every realm of Purgatory he encountered – falling rocks, fire, fog so thick it was more or less impossible to see his hand in front of his face – at least Dante had gotten that part right. Contrary to what most people – Sam included - would think, Dean was fairly well-read. He had studied Dante's Purgatorium. It was kind of required reading when you nearly brought about the apocalypse. He'd never told Sam or Bobby, but he'd wanted to know what was so important that his best friend had…

No. He refused to think about Castiel. Wherever the angel was, Dean hoped he felt some kind of remorse for what he'd done. Beyond that, Dean couldn't waste time of thoughts on him. He had other concerns.

Like escaping the shadows creeping in on him.

Like finding a place he could defend.

Like surviving long enough for Sam to figure a way out.

…...

Sam entered the basilica, stopping for a moment beyond the great doors to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim interior of the church. The space was massive. The room itself was rectangular, majestic columns rising from the marble floor to the vaulted ceiling. The central space was open, with rows of pews on either side and aisles running lengthwise toward the large raised platform at the other end of the room.

A regal altar sat on top of the platform, sparkling light from an incredibly beautiful stained glass window shining down upon it from above. There was no mistaking the scene the glass depicted – St. Peter, standing before the magnificent gates of Heaven.

This was it. It had to be.

The ritual had to be performed when the light from above was just right, casting the shadow of the stained glass gate upon the altar. He had the herbs he needed in a plastic baggie, which would need to be scattered before the altar and he hoped he had interpreted the ingredients correctly. The book he'd finally found was ancient. It had been buried in a box they had salvaged from Bobby's after it had burned. Some of the pages were singed, but Sam had found a passage in an ancient language that somewhat resembled Latin and had managed to piece together the information he'd needed.

It had taken a while to decipher the text. Much longer than he'd hoped… but he knew it had to be right. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

Dean's life depended on it.

Depended on him.

He wasn't about to let his brother down again.

He pulled the paper from his pocket as he moved forward, his eyes never leaving the spectacle of the window. The light shining through from behind made the colors so bright it was almost painful to look at it, but Sam didn't avert his eyes. His entire body thrummed with anticipation as he approached the platform, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling as he took a deep breath and started to recite the prayer.

"O Holy Apostle, because you are the Rock upon which Almighty God built the church…"

Sam sprinkled the Holy water from his flask onto the floor before him, tossing the herbs he had painstakingly collected onto the small puddle. He knew that if this didn't work, he would be at a loss as to where to turn next. This ritual was the only thing he'd been able to find. The only way to access Purgatory besides the blood and eclipse ritual Castiel had used. He knew there was no way Death was going to help him again – he hadn't even tried contacting the Horseman. And he'd almost given up hope of ever finding a way in when he'd come across the small, ancient book.

According to the text, there were two parts of Purgatory – the part where the monsters' souls went, and the part where human souls went to repent. From the human side, the souls could find their way to Heaven. That was where this ritual was supposed to take him. He had no idea whether the two sides had access to the other, but it was one step closer to finding Dean. And that was the only thing important to him.

"… I may be made worthy to appear before the Chief and Eternal Shepherd of Souls, Jesus Christ, Who with the Father and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns forever. Amen."

With the closing words, he looked up at the window, holding his breath as the glow from beyond began to grow brighter. As the light intensified, Sam forced himself to move forward, his eyes locked on the light, tears streaming as it became a blinding shaft of white energy that suddenly enveloped him. He cried out as the light seemed to burn straight through him, hoping like hell that he survived the ride.

…...

Dean sat up straight, nearly bashing his head on the low rock outcropping he'd selected as his new 'home'. He listened, his body tense, waiting to hear any sign of attack from the shadows outside.

The little cave was just outside the area of dense fog, near where the huge rocks fell relentlessly, crushing everything in their paths. He'd made the mistake of trying to get through the area once, nearly losing a leg to one of the large boulders that rolled down at breakneck speed. He'd managed to wedge himself under another fallen stone, causing the boulder to fly over him, but his knee had been smashed under the weight of the protective stone and he was forced to turn back and find someplace to hole up until the swelling went down.

The 'cave' was barely more than a small niche carved out of the base of the rock cliff, probably made from a huge boulder that had crashed down on this side at one time. Although there were few rocks that came down this side, one or two had fallen, nearly braining him while he attempted to get settled. The large boulders that still lay outside the cave kept the small shelter hidden and gave him a much needed refuge from the shadows.

The shadows were still moving around. Dean could hear them slithering and scratching against the rocks, but none had come close enough to sense him and he'd hoped his luck would hold for a little while longer.

He didn't know what had woken him from his light doze – he didn't dare allow himself to actually sleep, but he needed rest if he was going to survive – but some kind of disturbance had brought him awake.

A disturbance in the force…

One side of his mouth turned up in a sardonic grin as the line from the old movie flashed through his memory. Being able to use the Force would be quite welcome right about now.

Dean pushed himself to the edge of the shelter, his eyes darting around from the cliff wall to the scattered stones that protected the cave. His ears picked up on the normal sounds of falling rocks from further along the cliff as well as the swish of the dead limbs of trees in the darker shadow forest beyond, but he could discern nothing out of the ordinary. Rubbing a hand over his face, he squeezed his weary eyes closed and pushed himself out of the niche. Using the rock wall, he pulled himself up, testing his knee, surprised to find that it held his weight with only a slight twinge of pain. Of course, he had no idea where to go. He wasn't hungry or thirsty, which was strange in itself, and he wasn't sure how much time had passed since he'd arrived and been abandoned by Cas in the clearing.

He was sure time had passed, he just wasn't sure how much or how fast. It had been something he'd never thought about in Hell. Despite it feeling like he'd been there a lifetime, time held little meaning there. The torture was as endless as the days. No matter how much pain, how much torment he'd suffered, he would always magically end up whole, another round of agony all he could look forward to.

Here it was different. It had taken a while for his knee to heal. The fusty confines of his little cave had become as familiar to him as the lines of the Impala. Every rock, every crevice, a proverbial reminder of what he had lost. Of what he had little hope of ever seeing again. He truly had nowhere to go. Outside his cave was a vast, lonely expanse and, as far as he could tell, he was the only human soul, a target for all the monsters he had spent his lifetime delivering. Even if he could move out, he had no idea which direction to take, knowing any course would take him further into a wasteland he was not prepared to endure. This was where monsters prevailed. He was one human, outnumbered, vulnerable – he could probably survive one, but not both.

He had been tempted to call for Cas. Many times the words, the prayer was on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. The angel had abandoned him. Betrayed him one too many times. Despite his need to escape, to get back to Sam and the real world, Dean couldn't find it in him to trust Castiel again.

Just thinking about the angel made his chest tighten in anger. After everything they'd been through, he'd just flashed out and left him here to fend for himself.

Dean took a deep breath to calm himself. He wasn't sure if Cas even realized what he'd done – the angel hadn't exactly been playing with a full deck. But that didn't entirely excuse his actions. If there was one thing Dean held sacred, it was loyalty. It sometimes seemed that he was the only one who did deem that particular act important. But right now, he knew his brother felt the same. There had been times in the past when Dean had doubted Sam's devotion to family, but he believed his brother had learned a lesson the hard way. Sam would not abandon him here. He'd figure a way out.

Just thinking about his brother calmed his anger. It was like he could feel Sam's presence. Maybe it was the fact that he was growing increasingly desperate, maybe it was just because he missed having someone – anyone – around. But mostly, he concluded, it was because he missed his brother. Missed the familiar assurance of knowing someone had his back. That someone was looking out for him. That someone cared. Whether it was his imagination filling in the hole in his soul or not, just feeling that Sam was still searching was enough to remind him to keep his head in the game.

He considered moving away from his cave, finding an escape route on his own, but he knew it was hopeless. He had no point of reference, no idea what to look for. He was alone and lost, with no expectation other than making it until tomorrow. Tomorrow, his goal would shift to surviving another day.

Waiting… surviving… trusting…

When they were kids, Dad had always taught them that if they were lost in a dangerous, unfamiliar area, they should lay low, knowing that help was on the way.

He prayed like hell that help was on the way.

…...

Sam opened his eyes, expecting to find… well he wasn't sure exactly what he'd expected to find but he knew it wasn't Castiel's face inches from his own.

"Hey, Cas," he addressed the angel, awkwardly trying to move out from under him.

Cas seemed to sense Sam's discomfort and moved back, coming to a rest on his knees a few yards from the hunter.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam looked around anxiously, his eyes moving, taking in the dark shadowy landscape. The light from the gate penetrated maybe 50 yards before being swallowed up by the surrounding darkness. There were even darker shadows, flickers of movement, stirring around the perimeter of the illumination, and Sam felt a chill as he watched them even though the air wasn't at all cold.

The air wasn't really anything. There was no breeze, no… air… at least not the type Sam was used to on Earth. He felt himself breathing, but the sensation was habitual at best. He felt no resistance of movement when he inhaled, no soft hiss of air when he exhaled.

And he noticed that air wasn't the only thing missing.

"Where's Dean?"

Castiel shook his head, his eyes locked onto Sam's. "I do not know."

Sam pushed himself up to a standing position and narrowed his eyes at the angel. "What? What do you mean you don't know? The blowback from that weapon sent you both here. It had to."

Castiel rose, nodding slowly. "Yes. We were both transported here to Purgatory."

Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Cas hadn't been playing with a full deck before the battle at SucroCorp, and there was no telling how scrambled his eggs were after being in this place for all these months. Knowing he'd have to drag information out of the angel, Sam silently released the not-air in his lungs, the familiar action serving its purpose. "Okay. So if you were both transported here together, then why are you here and not Dean?"

"We were not transported here together."

So much for staying calm. Sam clenched his jaw. "You just said you were."

"I said we were both transported to Purgatory together. We were not transported here."

"This is Purgatory."

"Yes."

"Damnit, Cas. So help me…" Sam felt his fists tighten as his patience diminished. "Where's my brother?"

Castiel looked down to the ground before answering softly. "I lost him."

"You what?" Sam exploded, taking a step closer to the angel and grabbing hold of his trench coat. "You lost him? Damnit Cas, you were supposed to protect him. What's wrong with you?"

Cas held up a hand. "I know. I'm sorry, Sam. I can't even begin to express how much this pains me."

Sam took another deep breath and let go of the coat, giving the angel a not so subtle push of irritation. He stepped back and folding his arms across his chest, leveling a glare at the shorter being. "Try."

"When we first arrived, we were someplace, dark and cold," Cas began to explain. "The area was inhabited by souls, evil souls. I left to find a way out, to make sure the Leviathan were not privy to out location. When I returned, Dean was gone."

"Gone? What do you mean gone?"

"He was no longer in the clearing where we'd arrived. He either moved of his own accord or…" The angel looked at Sam, regret coloring his face.

"No." Sam shook his head, dismissing the notion that Dean had been harmed. His brother was a survivor. He had spent the last few months convincing himself that Dean was alive and waiting for Sam to find him. He was not about to change his thinking now. "He probably moved off to find someplace safe."

"There is no place that would be safe for a human soul."

Sam gave him a look that clearly told the angel what he thought of his comment.

"So why didn't you try to find him?"

Castiel sighed in defeat. "I did. But the Leviathan can track me. I didn't want to lead them to Dean if he was vulnerable. Since he was no longer where I'd left him, I had no indication where he would go, and unless he prays for me I have no way to find him. So I continued to look through the realms of Purgatory, and intermittently came here, hoping you would find a way to open the Gate."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "So you knew about the gate?"

"Of course."

"Then why the whole blood and eclipse thing to open Purgatory?"

"I am an angel. Only a human soul can enter through St. Peter's Gate." Castiel said matter-of-factly. "Besides, I needed to, erroneously, get the souls out. I had no desire to get in."

"Of course," Sam sighed. Dealing with the angel had always been trying at best, now, with the state his mind was in after absorbing Sam's hallucinations, it was like trying to catch bubbles with a hairbrush.

Sam shook his head and turned to look around him. The landscape resembled an empty field, surrounded on three sides by inky darkness. The peripheral shadows moved through the gloom like waves on the ocean, but stayed well clear of the small pool of light directly in front of the gate. "This wasn't what I was expecting."

Cas turned to look at the surrounding area. "What did you believe Purgatory would look like?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I figured the monster part would be dark and creepy like you said, but I guess I thought the human part would be… I don't know… a little more friendly."

Cas cocked his head and regarded Sam curiously. "What do you mean by 'human part'?

"From what I could figure out, there's a part of Purgatory for the monsters and another part for the humans awaiting entrance into Heaven." Sam explained what he'd learned in his research, his breath catching as he saw the confusion on the angel's face. "I take it that's not true?"

"No." Cas confirmed. "There are many realms in Purgatory, but the souls here are all 'monsters' as you put it."

"But I thought that Purgatory was where human souls go to get cleansed or whatever they needed to do before being allowed into Heaven."

Cas smiled sadly. "Your Dante got more wrong than he got right, Sam. The only human souls here are the ones that became monsters in your world. Some of them still retain a small bit of their humanity. That is why they are here. If they can find their way back to the human part of their souls, the will gain access to Heaven. If not, they will remain here for eternity."

"So Dean is the only true human soul here? In a world full of monsters?"

Cas nodded. "Yes. Until now."

Sam eyed the dark shadows moving about at the edge of the field. "And those…"

"Are souls that are very close to regaining their humanity." Cas finished. "That is the only reason they are able to come this close to the light from the Gate."

"And how can they gain back their humanity?"

"By making it through the challenges in the realms of Purgatory or…"

Sam swallowed hard. "Or by taking it from another human soul"

"It is possible," Castiel admitted. "But it would not help them to achieve their goal. No soul could be cleansed if it was taken through violence."

In a world full of monsters, that small tenet wasn't terribly comforting. "We have to find Dean." Sam stated as he watched the shadows roam the perimeter.

"I told you, I cannot locate him and he has not prayed for me to find him."

"Then take me to the last place you saw him," Sam ordered. "Now."

TBC….