A/N: So here's the thing… this is not a death-fic.

But Sam and Dean are dead. Like Dead dead. Like died and went to Heaven dead. Through the entirety of the fic, with no plans of being Not Dead in the future. But… I mean, I can't classify it as a death-fic if they're still going around doing their thing, right? So yes, they're dead, but no, it's not a death-fic.

The title is Latin, basically "the descent into Hell is easy". It's a nod to the Shadowhunters fandom, which inspired this fic (not a crossover, just inspired by). I don't own any Shadowhunters or supernatural characters. Image graphic is also not mine, original artist Alice Zhang (found via Google)

Thanks so much to the ever-patient and ever-wonderful Aini NuFire for being such a marvelous beta! I'll be posting every Wednesday ^_^

Also, I've had folks ask in the past if I'm on Tumblr. I finally joined the Tumblr era, hahaha, so come chat if you want! I'm 29-pieces.

The coffee was hot.

That was one thing Sam appreciated the most about this place: the coffee was always hot. No matter how many hours he sat in the Bunker's library, poring over the old tomes of lore and knowledge, his back never ached and the coffee never needed reheating.

Not that Sam needed the drink for energy. That was another thing he never ran out of anymore. No, it was more the comforting, familiar habit, the delicious taste that heightened the experience, the simple love of the coffee rather than the effect it no longer had anyway.

All in all, there were worse heavens out there.

Sam turned another page, awash with contentment.

Up above him, the door of the Bunker swung open with the squeal of metal and the faint ringing of celestial energy slipping in from Heaven proper. Sam grinned and closed the book, turning in his chair with a greeting already on his lips.

"Cas! So get this, did you know that ghouls-" The hunter paused as their visitor descended the stairs with a smirk. "Oh."

"Oh?" Gabriel repeated, huffing in mock offense. "That's all I get?"

"Sorry, just wasn't expecting you. What're you doing here?"

Gabriel had reached the bottom of the stairs, now looking around with vague shiftiness as he shrugged. "What, I can't pop in on two of my favorite wards? I mean, you are in the care of Heaven, and I am in charge of it, so…"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay. But we've only seen you, what, twice in all the years since we died?"

"Like I said: in charge of Heaven. Not exactly a cushy nine-to-five job. Where's Dean?"

The hunter twisted to glance over his shoulder. "Um… either fishing out back or in the simulation room. Which was a really great addition, by the way. Thanks for that."

"Cas insisted. Guess he thought Dean would be happy killing fake monsters forever, I don't know. Hang on a sec."

Gabriel snapped his fingers. Light flashed, and when it had faded, Dean was standing there with a sword in one hand and a gun in the other, brandishing both. He stumbled at the sudden change in scenery, cursing as his shot went wild.

"Damn it, Gabriel!"

"Sorry," the archangel said with an easy shrug, not looking all that apologetic. "Came to chat. Have a seat."

He gestured to the empty spot next to Sam at the library table, before taking one himself on the other side. Dean shot him another glare but lowered himself into the chair and grumbled,

"What do you want?"

"Actually, to make you an offer," the archangel replied.

Sam's eyebrows rose, suddenly suspicious. He traded a look with his brother, then prompted, "Uh-huh?"

"A one-time offer. One the other angels are gonna be a little peeved about, I might add. Look, I know you boys are dead and retired, and no one deserves this rest more than you, but you're also the best in the business. And I just so happen to have a mission that needs doing."

Both hunters sat up straighter, Sam feeling his face slacken with dismay. "Is it Earth?" he gasped. "Claire… is she okay? What about-"

"It's not an Earth problem," Gabriel reassured him with an airy wave of his hand. "You boys trained the next generation pretty damn good, actually. And they're busy training the next generation by now. All's quiet there since you closed the Hellgates."

"And died in the process," Dean reminded him with a snort. "So like you said… we're retired."

"Besides, shouldn't you be talking to Cas about this?" Sam asked, frowning. "I mean, he does still go out on missions for you when he's not here, right?"

Gabriel hesitated; only for a fraction of a second, but just long enough to raise the hair on Sam's neck. He tensed while out of the corner of his eye, he noted Dean also stiffen.

"Gabriel," Dean growled. "What aren't you telling us?"

The archangel sighed. "Castiel is the mission."

"Excuse me?" Sam snapped.

"Right, how's it go? Cas is on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days." Gabriel paused, then leaned in closer. "And between you and me, fellas, I'm starting to get worried. He was supposed to check in with me over a week ago, but… nary a word. I think something's gone wrong."

"Where is he?" Dean snarled, now slowly straightening to his feet with a thunderous expression. "Where the hell did you send him?"

"Funny you should phrase it like that-"

"You sent Cas to Hell?" Dean's shout echoed in the cavernous bunker, while Sam rubbed his face with disbelief.

After everything they'd gone through to try and take Hell off the table as far as causing problems, here they were again. Unbelievable. Sam shook his head and snapped, "But we closed Hell-"

"You closed it from demons getting out," Gabriel corrected. "Reapers still gotta do their job. All the angel subtypes can still come and go. Look, I wouldn't have sent him if it wasn't important-"

"Yeah, and now you and your very important mission have lost him!" Dean turned away, fingers raking through his hair as he took up a distressed pacing.

The archangel rose to his feet as well, stepping closer to Dean and spreading his hands. "Castiel is my best. And of the warriors I have left, he's the one with the most experience in Hell. It was supposed to be recon only, but… like I said, it's been over a week now-"

"Then why are you here?" Dean demanded, spinning back around and storming forward to get in Gabriel's face. "You're the archangel! How could you just leave him there?"

"What… me go after him? Maybe be the next one to disappear?"

Dean's jaw tightened; Sam could see the fire in his brother's eyes.

"You friggin' coward."

Gabriel's hands flew forward, slamming into Dean's chest so that he crashed back into the wall hard enough to splinter the plaster.

"Is that what you think?" the archangel seethed. His face darkened to the visage of a nightmare as he advanced on the human. "That I'm just too scared? I can't go after him. What if I did? What if I went, and maybe never came back? You know what happens next?"

"Gabriel-" Sam tried to interject, but the ruler of Heaven held up a hand to silence him.

"If I hadn't agreed to come back and take charge when Chuck asked, Heaven would have fallen apart! Souls falling to Earth! Until Chuck's newest batch of fledglings grows up, my grace is what's keeping the lights on around here. I can't leave, no matter how much I want to go get Castiel back."

Dean eyed the archangel before him, then slowly nodded. "Fine," he growled. "So you can't leave. So what, you're just gonna leave him out there?"

"No." Gabriel stepped back, arms spreading in an inclusive gesture. "If I can't go after Cas myself, I'm gonna send the next best thing. So are you in, or still retired?"

Sam shot Dean a look, but the unspoken conference was more a formality than an actual question; he already knew what his brother's answer would be. Dean gave him a sharp nod. Turning back to Gabriel, Sam demanded,

"How do we get there?

The archangel straightened as though a physical burden had been lifted from his shoulders, lines on his face smoothing out.

"It's gonna take an angel or a reaper to get you in," he replied. "And after the last reaper disappeared, I doubt any of them will-"

"Wait, what do you mean, disappeared?" Dean interrupted. "As in…?"

Gabriel shrugged. "We don't know what's happening to them. That's what I sent Castiel to find out. The reapers came to me and said a whole string of them who've been carting souls down to Hell haven't returned. Whatever's going on, it was enough to spook 'em, and let me tell you… reapers don't spook easy. We're talking full on rebellion brewing, refusing to ferry any more souls downstairs if I couldn't put a stop to the disappearances."

"What would a demon be doing killing reapers?" Sam asked with furrowed brow. "Wouldn't they want them…restocking?"

Again, Gabriel shrugged. "I don't know that the reapers are being killed. And frankly, I'm hoping they're not. Since it stands to reason whatever's happening to them is what's happened to…"

He trailed off, but neither Winchester needed that blank filled in. A grim silence descended for a brief moment, before Gabriel cleared his throat.

"Anyway, when Cas agreed to take the mission, we persuaded one more reaper to travel down with him, just to show him where the disappearances have been concentrated. Neither one came back, so I wouldn't bank on any more reapers showing you two the way. It'll have to be an angel. So, if you'll just hold tight…"

"Wait, but what about-"

Sam was cut off as Gabriel snapped his fingers, and everything tumbled in a whirlwind of light and color. When his surroundings solidified again, the Bunker was gone, replaced by what seemed to be an office. Sam stumbled upon the abrupt landing, hand going to his mouth as he heard Dean groan with discomfort. Even in Heaven as souls, flying didn't ever get any easier.

"You guys met Terriel?" Gabriel asked with a blasé grin, clearly unconcerned with the effect of the flight on the two hunters.

The name made Sam straighten with interest, shaking off the nausea as he noticed another angel standing by the wall that was covered top to bottom in strange symbols. A desk beside him was overflowing with scrolls and books turned every which way in a topsy-turvy tumble. A few sheaves had drifted to the floor, revealing more indecipherable script. The angel paused in his scribblings on the wall to look their way.

"Terriel?" Dean repeated, still holding his stomach. "Wait, the, uh…" He snapped his fingers. "Sigil angel."

"You invented all the sigils, right?" Sam added, looking around the untidy office. "Cas speaks highly of you."

"Does he indeed?" Terriel asked with a somber lift of his head. "I'm honored. Castiel is a great warrior." He turned to Gabriel next with a respectful nod. "They'll do it?"

"Yeah, they're in."

"The other angels will be… less than thrilled."

Dean bristled, glaring at Terriel. "And why's that?"

The angel's lips twitched. "Because they imagined that when the Winchesters died, so would the Winchester chaos. Releasing you from your heaven puts that at risk. I for one am glad Castiel has such loyal friends. However disruptive you may be to the general order of things."

Sam frowned. "Thanks… I- I think."

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," Gabriel retorted. "If Cas got nabbed, no other angel would stand a chance. And I'm not leaving him there, which means we're going with the B-Team. Terriel, tell me you've got something."

"I'm close," Terriel assured him, at the same time that Dean grumbled,

"B-Team?"

"This is what I've managed so far," the angel went on, scattering more parchment across the floor as he dug through the piles on the table to find the one he was looking for. Several sigils that Sam had never seen before covered the paper. "There's one more element I need to add to them, though."

"How long?" Gabriel demanded impatiently. "We're on the clock, Terry."

"I know, just give me a moment. Sam, Dean, if you would please stand over here and hold still."

The brothers traded a look, but moved in the direction Terriel was directing. The angel stepped back, one hand coming to stroke his chin in a pensive gesture as he simply stood and stared at the two. After an awkward minute, Sam cleared his throat in discomfort.

"Uh," Dean started, shifting, but Terriel held up a hand.

"No, please don't move. You're disrupting your energy pattern."

"Our what?" Sam asked.

Gabriel crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "He said to hush, Samsquatch. Let him work."

The scrutiny was discomfiting, Terriel's piercing gaze roving over the two without a word. Sam had no idea what the angel could possibly be looking for or how this was supposed to help Cas. Fortunately, it wasn't long before Terriel blinked and turned his eyes away, hurrying to the wall and starting to scribble shapes on a blank spot with almost feverish intensity.

"Your energy," he said as he worked. "Every soul is unique. It forms very specific patterns, so if I can map yours, I can… theoretically… create…" Terriel trailed off as though having forgotten he'd even started speaking.

Dean blinked, turning to Gabriel with a gesture towards the odd angel, but Gabriel just shook his head and waved dismissively.

"He's like this."

"Got it!"

Terriel clapped his hands so loudly that Sam jumped at the sudden sound. He watched as the sigil crafter held his palm towards the scribbles on the wall; they began to glow with white-hot brilliance that would have hurt the brothers' more fragile human shells. Without a word of explanation, Terriel grabbed the parchment he'd showed them before and held his hand over it next. The same light beamed forth, creating new shapes in the designs already there. Sam noticed the new figures were identical to what was scrawled on the wall.

"Was that… like… angelic copy/paste?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Nerd," Dean muttered before raising his voice. "Look, this is all fascinating stuff, but Cas is in Hell. Let's get a move on."

"Yes, I agree," Terriel said, beckoning the two closer. "Listen carefully. As human souls, you may be powerful, but you're nothing compared to the might of Hell. This will be more dangerous for you than it was for Castiel, which is why Gabriel instructed me to craft these for you."

"What are they for?" Sam asked as he eyed the strange symbols. "And where are we supposed to draw them?"

"You're not. I'm going to carve them on you."

"Wait, whoa," Dean gasped, jerking back when Terriel raised an angel blade. "Okay, skippy, you can put that thing down."

"Dean." Gabriel stepped forward again with a frown. "You wanna help Cas or not?"

Sam pressed his lips together, then held out his arm. "Do it," he instructed Terriel.

The angel nodded, taking Sam's offered arm and pressing the blade into it until it barely broke the surface. Sam gritted his teeth as Terriel began to carve, carefully and deliberately, one of the sigils he had crafted.

"This one is for speed," he explained. The symbol glowed briefly with ringing white light when he finished, before fading to a faint red line. Moving up to Sam's shoulder and peeling the layers of plaid and cotton down, Terriel began to draw another. "This one for invisibility."

In total, there were six sigils, each with a different purpose. Most seemed straightforward; extra strength, healing. The remaining two were more complex in design, and Terriel explained them as he carefully drew the sigils on Dean as well.

"This one is for tracking," he said. "I included your energy patterns, so if you activate this sigil, it will help guide you back to each other should you find yourselves separated. The extra forms in there is Castiel. So you should be able to home in on him as well."

"So, you already know his… his energy pattern, or whatever?" Sam asked, curious.

Terriel paused in his carving, giving Sam an odd look. "Yes, of course." He raised a hand towards the wall where the sigil was drawn, gesturing. Slowly, the form separated out into a string of component figures.

Sam frowned, studying the shapes. Though he didn't recognize the sigil as a whole, these forms were more familiar. "Wait, is that Enochian writing?"

"Yes. It's Castiel's name. His energy pattern. That's what names are."

"And this one here," Gabriel explained, tapping the sheet of paper to indicate the final sigil. "This one is me. Don't use it unless you have to."

"Um… why?" Dean asked with a suspicious look.

"It gives you a link to Gabriel's power," Terriel said as he completed the last mark on Dean's torso. "Keep that link closed unless you absolutely need it. It's much more power than your soul was designed to wield, so it will drain you quickly, to the point of destruction if you're already too weak. In its unharnessed form, it should emerge as a blast that will decimate any demons around. But I must stress, only in time of great need, and only once each."

Yeah, that didn't sound good. Sam nodded. "Got it."

Shrugging back into his shirt, Dean clenched his fists and frowned. "I don't feel any stronger. Or invisible."

"That's because they only work when you activate them, dumbass," Gabriel griped. He twirled his hands, two angel blades appearing in his open palms. The archangel pushed one towards each of the Winchesters. "I made these myself, so they should work on almost anything you come across down there. Good luck."

"Wait, how do we activate the sigil things?" Dean asked, clutching the blade that was thrust into his hand.

"Terry will give you a crash course when you get there." Gabriel clapped a hand on either of their shoulders, expression sobering. "Find Cas, boys. Bring him home."

Though Sam's mind was also roiling with a thousand questions, the grave request left a stillness in the air. He locked eyes with the archangel and nodded. Another second passed, then he felt Terriel take his arm, and everything disappeared.

SPN SPN SPN

Castiel's eyes were closed, ragged breaths emerging from cracked lips. He knew better than to try moving his limbs, yet the angel still reflexively pulled against the forces that held him. His efforts were met only with the rattling of chains and a flare of pain.

"Ready for more, little angel?" a voice hissed, followed by a sharp slice down his arm with a blade.

Fire flared at Castiel's throat, shocking him into a choked cry. The metal circling his neck lit with warm energy. The angel shifted weakly in the web of chains that held him suspended upright, hovering inches above the rocky floor. Yet his mind flooded with rebellion and resolve as Castiel glared down at his captor.

"I would tell you to… go to hell," he rasped. "But in your case… it would seem… redundant."

A light clattering warned him the chains were moving, and Castiel choked again as the links connected to the metal collar pulled taut and then kept pulling. He struggled uselessly, both arms outspread and held tight, both feet fettered and unable to find purchase.

"Keep it up, Castiel. Goading me will win you no favors," the demon murmured, keeping the tension on the chain as he stepped forward into the light of the glowing metal circle. His scarred face broke into a smile as he watched Castiel struggle, before finally releasing the chain.

Castiel gasped for air, gritting his teeth when he felt his grace automatically stretch out to soothe his varied injuries. The collar glowed brighter as another trace bit of his power flowed into it, and in turn the chain it connected to took on a faint light cast. Barely a trickle, but it was still Castiel's grace—not meant for any demon to take away from him. The chain itself stretched up to a bar overhead and then tumbled down to the cavern floor. It snaked its way towards a tall glass vat, partially filled with swirling light of various color and brightness.

Instinctively, Castiel shut off his healing energy, unwilling to give his captor any more. The collar's light faded as the grace stopped flowing.

The demon looked from the chain to Castiel with a pointed smirk.

"Going on strike again?"

"You'll never collect enough for what you want," Castiel grimly declared.

Unfazed, the demon shrugged and picked up the blade he'd taken from the angel. "Not by cutting it out all at once. I went through a couple reapers already to learn that. Do you know, when I was a human—many years ago—my father kept a cow on our little farm. Sometimes we didn't have much to eat, but he never killed the cow for meat. He could have. Could have killed it to feed us for a week or so… but by keeping it alive, we had milk every single day for years."

"I'm not a cow," Castiel huffed.

The demon snorted. "My point is, as much as I'd love to slaughter you and take all your grace right now, I can get so much more out of you by keeping you alive. Maybe only a trickle at a time. A bit here…" He slashed with the blade, making Castiel cry out in pain as his torso lit with the glow of grace.

The collar flared back to life, more residue of spent grace trickling down into the chain. The demon smiled and slashed again.

"A bit there…"

Another wound opened and Castiel held back a scream. He tried to stop his body from healing, but it was difficult to fight the automatic process. He managed to force his power down again, but not before yet another trickle had been added to the swirling vat.

The demon shook his head. "Every time you use your grace, Castiel, a little bit more will be siphoned away, only to be replenished within you over time. Yes, it may seem an insurmountable amount. You might have to hang there in agony for years before that vat is even halfway filled." He leaned in and set the blade against Castiel's cheek as the angel glared back at him. "But look around you. I have nothing to do but wait."

He slashed again, and the cavern of Hell filled with Castiel's cries.