Reaper please take him home

He's been wandering for far too long

He feels so blue, haven't you heard

He is the lonesome rider it's the lonesome rider's call home

Just feel all the love I'm giving you

I'm back from the war, I've been missing you

Where have you gone my baby blue

I'm here all alone, I've been bleeding too

Volbeat "Lonesome Rider"

Screams. Panicked cry for help, then just beastly growl of agony. A baby crying in your arms and a yelling man.

This feeling of desolation of loss. A house burning down, collapsing slowly, part by part. Heavy wooden beams cracking and falling; fountains of red hot sparks. Memories inscribed in every desk, every doorframe, every window coming apart. Feeling of safety crumbling down, never to be found again.

Somewhere inside - mother. This agonizing thought that she may be still alive. You know the pain of burns. You hope she is dead.

The baby kicks and screams. Father's vacant gaze is fixed on the fire. On everything that you both left there.

What now? What do we do?

He doesn't answer. For weeks, for months, for years he does not really answer.

Castiel is dragged back to reality, but not to his own self. Another wave of intent encircles him, violates him, grows into his being like a parasite.

"What is your answer?" message flows form it right into Castiel's consciousness.

"No. Never. No."

Quiet, warm safety spiked with bitterness. Then a roar, crash and pain. Agony. Broken bones, fighting for air, choking on blood filling your lungs. Hours and hours of excruciating headache and nausea.

Loneliness. Compassion. Seing your loved ones scream and cry and beg for you to wake up. Being unable to tell them you're right there.

World regaining color; first real breath. Joy of having blood rushed through thirsty veins by beating heart.

It lasts but a moment. Then comes another betrayal. Disbelief. Pain and guilt tearing your chest apart. Your father falling lifeless onto the floor. Your dry mouth restlessly repeating "no, no, it's impossible, no..."

"So, what do you say, little brother?"

Castiel can feel Raphael's impatience like an electric shock that makes his whole being shudder.

"No..."

Warm trickle of blood against your palm; mounting awareness that this is too much, that noone could survive such blood loss.

Your brother slackening, weighing more and more. His eyes going hazy. Your brother's jerky, strained breath against your neck becoming more and more desperate, then stopping. His body becoming still and cold in your arms.

Guilt and despair making your throat hurt like you breathed fire. Like there was a barbed wire tightening around your neck. It won't let go. Even when it's over. Even when you suffer enough to for the pain to absolve you from guilt. It will be there forever.

This time it is Castiel who breaks free... Like he was drowning, fighting to break the surface and take just one breath to give him strength to go on. Raphael squashes his will, pushes him back into the nightmare.

This time the pain is merely physical. Hellhound's hot breath is terrifying, his claws dig deep into your muscle without a warning, but this fight is feels right and pure. There is relief in it.

Then the hellhound tears your stomach open, tugs on your guts and you can think no more. You just scream.

You are hauled deep, deep down. You're helpless, terrified like a child.

Then come endless years of fear, humiliation, agony. You beg, you pray. Not because you believe it could stop the ordeal. Simply because it is the only thing you can do.

No chance to fight back. No chance to keep shreds of honor - you scream. From the first second they break you, rip an inhumane wail from you throat. You don't even have this moment of resistance to remember, to hold on to, to convince yourself that you're strong.

For a moment Castiel feels he is alone; he rests, tries to regain balance and peace. Just when he begins to think he is safe he feels Raphael pierce him again. Next second...

...you feel a knot in your throat and spasm rocking your stomach, but it's too late. Whatever happens, you can take this torture no longer.

You take the dirty knife; blood of countless victims makes it sticky and foul. A part of you wants to retch. A part of you is glad that there is no dignity in the act; that everything is so beastly.

It makes it easier. Easier to convince yourself that this man whose terrified stare bores into your scull is just meat. Easier to convince yourself that there are no humans in there.

Castiel feels his being disintegrate in one agonizing spasm, then emerge from the ocean of meaningless waves - weakened, flattened, bleached. For one precious moment he remembers that there is something important escaping him. Something he used to understand, but he understands no longer. Next second this spark is gone.

"What do you say, little brother?"

Castiel hesitates, but not because he is not convinced. He is just too dazed to answer.

"This is world. This is life," Raphael's words seep into his mind, "Are you sure it is worth saving?"

"It is not..." comes an answer. The same spark of vague understanding flickers in Castiel's mind again. He strains to gather his thoughts "Dean...What... is going to happen with him?"

"He will be forgiven. He will forget the atrocities of his life and rest forever in the fields of the Lord."

The archangel waits. This time he lets Castiel regroup before he finally asks:

"Will you let us end it?"

"Yes."

Raphael's being vibrates in soft, sneering laughter.

"You're one submissive little bitch. Good. Good..."