Hell's Angel (A Supernatural Fanfiction) {2}

Chapter 11

So the descriptions of Andrew/Azrael were based off of Ian Harding but I had decided to use Ian Somerhalder instead. I just never got the chance to change them. Sorry.

Libby Wilson always swore to herself that she would never return to Hell, yet she found herself sneaking through the Gates for what seemed like the hundredth time since she made that promise.

Her green eyes darted around in search of any lingering demons before advancing down the hall.

"Where's the one place you were forbidden to go to when you were in Hell?" Meg's question echoed through her mind as she racked her brain for any ideas.

She had been to every part of Hell, Cage included. Where was a place that she had never been to? Meg had told her that she wouldn't recognize Andrew at first which meant that any demon could be Andrew. He wouldn't have the same name, either.

Libby wandered down the corridors of Hell, doing her best to block out the screams of pain and the cries of help.

After being away from them for so long she had grown used to the peace of not hearing people pleading for their lives. But now it was almost unbearable to her. The suffering of souls that she couldn't help. Some deserved it, others didn't. Half of the population of Hell consisted of people who had made deals with a Crossroads Demon in hopes of turning their, or someone else's, life around.

"I knew it! I knew you'd come back for us, Elizabeth!" a raven haired woman cried out. She reached through the bars of her cell and Libby instantly recognized the face. It was a woman whom she had befriended towards the end of her time in Hell. She was sent to Hell when she died a century earlier for making a deal to save her daughter from leukemia at age six.

"Margaret-" Libby's breath hitched in her throat, not wanting to finish the sentence. Margaret's face fell when she realized that Libby wasn't there to rescue any souls. "I hate to ask, but have you heard of a demon that used to go by Andrew? He would've been from my time." Margaret furrowed her black brows in thought, biting her lip, before shaking her head.

"No, I'm sorry." Libby went to walk away when Margaret grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Have you seen Lily? Is she okay?" It had been a century since Lily was saved, but Margaret didn't know that. She didn't know that Lily had died decades earlier due to an accident. Libby forced a smile on her face and lied to the woman:

"She's perfectly okay." Margaret breathed a sigh of relief. Guilt ate away at Libby's gut but she ignored it, not letting it get to her. She had to comfort the good souls in Hell in any way necessary. To give them some hope.

Libby continued down the hall, asking old friends the exact same question she had asked Margaret. She was about to give up twenty cells later when a new face stopped her.

"You're an angel, correct?" Libby stopped and nodded, studying the man. She couldn't exactly call him a man. He looked to be about sixteen. He was well-built and toned, a face that would make any girl melt at his feet. "You're looking for a demon that went by the name of Andrew?" She nodded again.

"Yes. He would've been human when the humans first roamed Earth," she confirmed. The teenage boy leaned forward, glancing nervously each way down the hall to make sure there wasn't a demon. "No one will know what you've told me," she assured him. He nodded, biting his lower lip.

"He's the one who brought me here," he whispered. Libby's eyebrows rose in shock. A demon as old as Andrew should've been at the top of the list. He should've been serving right alongside Crowley, or even running Hell. "He was searching for an Elizabeth. I heard that he usually picked up redheaded girls in hopes that it was her." Libby unconsciously touched her hair before eyeing the teenager's. It was a strawberry blonde, but it wasn't red. "He never found her, though."