THIS IS THE CHAPTER WITH TRIGGERS. There is mention of off screen rape, child abuse, and nonconsensual parent/child incest.

And somebody punches Jesus.

Castiel wearily let himself into the living space that he shared with Gabriel. The adrenaline from his encounter with dean had long since faded and was replaced with a sickening sense of self-loathing. How could he have done this? Pornography was one thing, but actually giving into his perversions… it was just too sinful. Castiel decided that he would fast. Cleanse himself of the pleasures he had experienced and never again fall into temptation. He meant it this time. Lawrence would not end up like Chicago, with a regrettable tryst and a difficult choice-

"Hey." Castiel jumped. As lost in his thoughts that he was, he hadn't noticed Gabriel sitting on the worn couch with a pile of notecards spread out on his lap. He looked worn and much older than he usually did. The muted television highlighted the lines on Gabriel's face. "Can't sleep either?"

Castiel shook his head. "I was just getting some fresh air."

Gabriel eyed the rumpled state of Castiel's club clothes and raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with getting a little 'fresh air' once in a while. God knows the church can be… stifling."

Castiel gave a small huff of laughter and sat next to Gabriel on the couch. "I never knew that Lawrence could be so humid."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Castiel shook his head. "What are you writing?"

"Mass." Gabriel glared down at his lap as if the notecards had personally offended him. "I want to talk about the whole predestination business, but if I get too 'controversial' again, Zachariah will throw my ass out of the church, just like Bobby."

Castiel thought of the man who had brought him to St. Mary's, Zachariah Adler. He was a large balding man with a serpent's grin, looking more like a CEO of a large business, rather than the leader of a parish. "How is predestination controversial?"

A manic light filled Gabriel's eyes and he clasped his hands together in excitement. "Okay, Cassie, prepare to have your mind blown! So, you know about

Judas right? Well, he technically redeemed us, didn't he? Judas Iscariot, not Jesus Christ. All J.C. had to do was go to the cross and bang," Gabriel snapped his fingers. "That's it. He's done his job. He's chillin' in heaven with his Old Man, and we fucking worship the ground he walks on. And then there's poor old Judas, he's got to betray the Son of God, and then he's got to hang himself, and then go down in history as the world's biggest douchebag." A sad look passed over Gabriel's face. "Now, that's sacrifice, Cassie. God made Judas, you know? He made Judas, Saddam, Adolph… he made 'em all. Could you imagine them lining up to be born and God looking at you and saying, 'Listen, Saddam, buddy, I'm sorry, but you're gonna be a tyrant. You're gonna destroy Iraq.' and Saddam would say, 'No, thanks, bro, I'll go to the back of the line if it's all right?'" Gabriel sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "I mean, wouldn't you?"

Castiel stared out into the sea of children. He had never felt more intimidated. The local elementary school had brought their seventh grade class to the church for Confession. Castiel mentally cursed Gabriel for getting out of listening to Confessions as well.

"Line up alphabetically for Father Novak!" Ms. Bradbury called out. "Come on guys, you gotta behave. Jesus is watching!" The children barely paid her any attention. "HEY!" The students whipped their heads towards their teacher. "Shut up and get in line for confession!"

"You can't say 'shut up' in a church."

"Kristy, I can say what I want. I'm an adult." Ms. Bradbury smiled sweetly at Castiel. "Sorry about that. First for confession is Benjamin Braeden."

Moments later Castiel sat in the in the back of the church across from a boy with gel spiked hair. "And how many do you smoke?"

Ben shrugged. "About ten."

Castiel felt his eyes widen in disbelief. "A day?"

"Yeah."

"I see… how do you pay for them?"

"I use my lunch money."

"So you don't eat?"

"I take Meg Master's sandwiches."

Castiel smiled wryly. "You know that's got to stop."

"It will! She brings tuna now, and she knows I hate fish." Ben sounded utterly unrepentant.

"Well, suppose someone stole from you?"

"I don't have anything to steal."

"Suppose you did?"

"That would be whack!"

"Exactly. if someone stole from me, I'd think that it would be … 'whack' as well."

"You haven't got anything that'll get robbed either."

"Because I'm a priest?"

"Because you're broke."

Castiel narrowed his eyes at the eighth grader and resisted the urge to thump him. "Through the ministry of the church, may God give you pardon and peace. I absolve you from your sins. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The next hour passed in a blur of students and confessions about stolen diaries and stealing money from the purses of mothers. Now he was with the sandwich girl, Meg Masters, who refused to speak.

Castiel looked at his watch then at the silent girl. "That's it, Meg. There are others in line waiting." Meg nodded and stood to leave. She looked at the door of the confession booth and then sat back down. Castiel cleared his throat." Meg, is there something that you need to tell me?"

Meg was quiet for a few more moments. Then- "He makes me do things."

Castiel's heart stopped. "Who?"

"My dad."

"What sort of things?"

Meg closed her eyes. "Just things."

"Sex?" Meg nodded, her eyes still shut. "Does your mother know?" The young girl shook her head. "You must tell her. And tell your father it's got to stop. Tell him you've seen me and Father Novak said it's got to stop."

"Okay." The word was barely a whisper.

"Promise?"

"Yeah."

"and you'll come back and see me?"

"…Yeah."

Meg left, and the rest of the Confessions were, thankfully, unremarkable. Castiel sent a prayer of thanks to God, He didn't know how he would have been able to give advice after what Meg had told him. He thought of the scared young girl, and the man that fathered her. Alistair Masters.

He wasn't somebody that Castiel had much contact with, but Castiel knew who he was. Alistair was a tall man, skinny with cold dead fish eyes. He owned and bred specialized attack dogs, vicious mutts that were called 'Hell Hounds'. Castiel had heard stories about them, about how they were responsible for the death of the young musician Robert Johnson and sixteen year old Bela Talbot when they were caught together by Bela's father, Fergus.

Castiel spent the next four days thinking about what Meg had told him, and during the morning service on Monday, Castiel told the story of Lot and his daughters. He described the happenings in the cave and he referenced the laws that God had commanded in Leviticus. Castiel could see the disturbed looks on the congregation's faces. He could see Gabriel looking confused and Meg staring down at her lap.

The service passed slowly and hardly anyone tried to speak to Castiel after it was over. Only one person approached him, Alistair Masters.

"Father?"

"Yes?" Castiel had to resist the urge to strangle the man that stood before him.

Alistair smiled, and the thin curl of his lips reminded Castiel of the wet slime trail of a slug. "If you don't mind, I'd like to make a confession." Castiel nodded stiffly and led the way to the confessional booth. He had hardly settled when Alistair's thin reedy voice snaked through the small screen in the wall. "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned."

Castiel struggled to keep his tone civil. "May the lord be in your heart and help you to confess your sins with true sorrow."

"What did she say?"

Castiel blinked. He had not been expecting Alistair to be so upfront. "I am not at liberty to tell you that."

"She's my Daughter." Alistair sounded angry and Castiel felt a ripple of smugness flutter through his chest.

"I cannot break the seal of the confessional. You know that."

"Yes, I do." Alistair laughed darkly. "You know, Father Novak, a man once paid three pieces of silver for the right to commit incest." He laughed again. "Do You Know Who Sold Him That Right? Pope Alexander VI".

"Incest is evil." Castiel snapped.

Alistair replied calmly, "Incest is human. It's the most natural thing in the world."

"The most unnatural." Castiel hissed.

There was a lighthearted chuckle. "Of course, you're the expert, aren't you, father Novak? You've never been with a woman-" Castiel's blood ran cold. Could Meg's father know about Castiel's perversions? About his pornography and his sinful thoughts… about Dean? "-let alone fathered a child," Relief poured through Castiel's body. Of Course Alistair didn't know. It was impossible. Castiel had been so careful to cover his tracks. "But you're an expert. You ask a man- any real man- you ask him if he's ever stopped patting his daughter's ass? And why does he stop patting it? Because she doesn't like it? Because he doesn't like it?" Alistair cackled. "Or... because he does like it." Castiel resisted the urge to vomit. "I've dedicated my life to the study of incest... and there's nothing anyone can tell me about it, least of all you."

"I can tell you that it's a sin." There was a guffaw from the other side of the confessional. "It's one of the gravest sins of all." Castiel took a deep breath. "May I have your permission to talk to someone about this? There's help available, and therapy-"

"I don't need help!" For the first time Alistair sounded truly angry. "I don't need therapy. I'm not your fucking textbook case. I'm no sexual inadequate. I've just seen through all the bullshit!" Suddenly, Alistair's face was pressed against the screen that separated him and Castiel. "You think its inhuman… unthinkable!"

"If it's not, then are there laws against it?" Castiel replied calmly. "Why does every society in the world put a taboo around it?"

"I'll tell you why!" Alistair hissed. "It's the one thing we'd all like to do. Deep down in all of us. Even you, Father."

The image of Dean on his hands and knees, begging wantonly for a cock in his ass flashed though Castiel's mind. He swallowed, "What, uh… how does Meg feel about all this?"

There was a long silence and then there was the sound of a door opening and departing footsteps. Castiel sighed and left the confessional booth.

Castiel hunched into himself as he skulked through the psychology section of the library. He had driven a few towns over to do more research on Meg's situation. Alistair Master's was a sick man and there had to be some sort of loophole that allowed Castiel to alert the authorities to the perversions that were going on in the Masters' home.

"Hey there, Stranger." A heavy hand fell onto Castiel's shoulder. He knew that voice, it had haunted his dreams since he had last heard it, and he knew that hand… God, that hand that had clenched at green bed-sheets like they were the only things holding him onto this earth…

"Hello Dean."

"Fancy seeing you here." Dean moved into Castiel's line of sight and his heart clenched painfully when he saw the sad smile on Dean's face. "I, uh… I didn't expect to see you again. Not after you left so quick."

Shame rushed to Castiel's cheeks and he could feel himself turning bright pink. "Something came up."

Dean laughed painfully. "Yeah, I thought so."

Castiel shook his head. "Dean, I promise you, that night was one of the best nights of my life, but I just cant-"

"Save it." Dean's voice had resignation in it. "If you only wanted a one night stand, you could have just said so, instead of leading me on."

"I swear I didn't mean to do that to you." There was a desperate edge to Castiel's voice. "I promise you Dean-"

"Look, Jimmy, just drop it."

"That's not my name." Castiel blurted out before he could stop himself. "My name isn't 'Jimmy', it's… it's Castiel."

Dean gave Castiel a calculating look. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because I want to explain to you why I left." Castiel looked Dean straight in the eye and took a deep breath. "I'm a priest."

There was a shocked silence. "If you're a catholic priest, aren't I a little too old for you?" Castiel shot Dean a look of loathing, and Dean laughed, suddenly becoming the man that Castiel had first met at the bar. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. But, seriously though, I thought that Priests were sworn to celibacy or something."

"We are."

"Oh." Dean studied Castiel for a moment. "You know I wont tell anyone, right?"

"Thank you, Dean."

"No problem." Dean smiled. "Here, give me your phone."

Castiel squinted with suspicion. "Why?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Just give it here." Dean reached out and took the ancient flip phone from Castiel's offered hand. He poked at a few buttons before handing it back. "Here, call me sometime." Castiel didn't move. "Just take the phone." Castiel obeyed and slipped the phone into his pocket. Dan watched with a fond look in his eyes. "I gotta go now. I'm supposed to be finding some law book for my brother." He started to wander away. "See you around, Cas. And don't forget to call!"

Why was he the one who always ended up with the eighth graders? Castiel stood at the front of a cramped classroom, watching the students chat with each other instead of listening to the song that Castiel was playing for analysis. The song playing was 'Anyone Who Had A Heart' and Castiel found himself swaying to the melody. The song ended but despite that, the students continued to chatter.

"Quiet please." Castiel was largely ignored. "Please stop talking." Again they paid no attention to him. "Listen, please. Listen." Finally the majority of the students turned to him in some resemblance of behaving. "Can anybody tell me what that song is really about?"

"It's about fucking!" Ben Braeden shouts out, causing his classmates to snicker.

Castiel mentally rolled his eyes. "Wrong. Can anybody give me a more appropriate answer?

"It's about relationships." A scrawny boy in the front row spoke up. The class moaned mockingly and Castiel smiled at the boy.

"What's your name?"

"Garth Fitzgerald IV."

"Well, Garth, you are completely right. The song is about relationships. Now, what is the most essential part of a relationship?"

"Pussy!"

"Ben, that's enough. Yes? You in the plaid." He pointed to a blonde girl wearing unreasonably short shorts and a men's plaid shirt. Castiel vaguely remembered her confession about putting cayenne pepper in her mother's boyfriend's underwear drawer.

"Love?"

Castiel beamed. "Absolutely right. Love. A passionate commitment from one human being to another-"

The sound of clattering desks cut Castiel's words off, and he jerked his head up just in time to see Meg Masters fall to the ground shaking.

"Get Ms. Bradbury." Castiel hurried over to Meg and knelt down beside her quivering form. "It's all right, Meg. It's okay. It's okay. It's all right." Meg started to sob and clutch at her chest. She was having a panic attack.

"I can't breathe!" She gasped out. "I can't breathe!"

"GET MISS BRADBURY NOW!" Castiel shouted, panicing. He heard someone run out of the classroom. "It's okay… it's okay, Meg." He took her in his arms and pressed her against his chest, stroking her hair. "Shh... shh… it's going to be okay. It's going to be okay…"

Later, when Ms. Bradbury had reentered the classroom and had helped Castiel take Meg to the nurse's office. Meg calmed down with the help of a cool cup of water and a musty smelling wool blanket that the nurse pulled out of a filing cabinet. When the nurse and Ms. Bradbury left, Castiel stayed behind to speak to Meg.

"Meg… may I have your permission to talk to your mother about what you told me at Confession?"

Meg shook her head. "No."

"Is there anyone else you'd like me to talk to?"

"No."

Castiel resisted the urge to press the matter. "You must come and see me again."

"Okay." Meg whispered.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

Castiel was prevented from saying anything else when a beautiful woman with sharp heels entered the room. "Darling, are you all right?" The woman didn't wait for an answer before turning to Castiel. "Father Novak, thank you so much for helping my little girl." She grabbed Castiel's hand in her two perfectly manicured ones. "Lilith Masters."

"Mom, can I go to the car?"

Lilith shook her head. "We need to figure out what's been triggering your attacks. Maybe it's just an adolescent thing? I read somewhere that it happens to kids of her age." The expression on her face was miserable as she looked at Castiel. "Do you know what brought it on, Father?"

"I don't know."

"And this happened while you were in class?" This question was directed towards Meg.

"Yeah."

"You're all right now though." Lilith gently touched her daughter's cheek.

"Maybe you shouldn't leave her on her own." Castiel blurted out. "At least, not until these panic attacks stop happening."

"Oh, we don't." Lilith quickly assured him. "If I'm not with her, Alistair is."

Castiel stared sullenly at his dinner and poked at it. "Too spicy for you?" Gabriel asked through a mouthful of chili.

"No…" Castiel took a bite of food.

"You okay, Cassie?"

Castel's resolve broke. "I can't go into details, but if I intervene, I could stop someone's suffering, but that means breaking the seal of the Confessional."

Gabriel looked at him with pity. "I can imagine what you're going through."

"What would you do?"

"I'd drop a hint."

Castiel nodded thoughtfully and excused himself from the table. "Where is the Church Phonebook?"

Minutes later, Castiel had the phonebook on his lap and his phone in his hand. He steadily ignored Dean's name and tapped in the Masters' phone number.

Lilith Masters picked answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this the Masters house?"

"Yes. Whose speaking, please?"

"This is Father Novak. I was just wondering how Meg is doing?"

"Oh, hello! Meg's doing fine. She's gone to bed early."

"That's good." Castiel cleared his throat. "I was thinking about it, and I think that I may have thought about a reason for Meg's panic attacks."

"Really?"

Castiel nodded before he realized that Lilith could not see him. "She's being picked on by a boy in her class. He's been stealing Meg's sandwiches."

"Is that it?" Lilith's tone was disappointed.

"That's probably not the whole reason, but it's something."

"I see… well thank you for letting me know. Good-bye." She hung up.

Castiel pulled the phone from his ear and typed in a new number. One that he had memorized earlier.

"Hello, Social Services."

"I need to speak to someone about a child at risk."

"Hold on, please." There was a click and then a man's voice. "Hello. Can I help you? Hello? Hello?"

Castiel hung up. He couldn't go against the Seal. Just as he was about to rejoin Gabriel in the kitchen his phone began to buzz in his hand. Looking at his Caller ID he saw the Masters' phone number. Perhaps Lilith wanted to talk more about what he had said. "Hello?"

"Keep your nose out of my business. You had no right to call my home."

Castiel clenched his fist at the sound of Alistair's voice. "What you're doing… it's got to stop." Castiel heard a scoff on the other line. "Listen to me, you horrible man, Meg's having daily anxiety attacks because of what you're doing."

"Just leave my family alone!" Alistair hissed and hung up.

"FUCK!" Castiel stood and flung his phone at the wall. It hit a painting of Jesus on the Cross and burst into tiny pieces. But that wasn't satisfying enough. Castiel wanted to find Alistair and beat him to death with a shovel. He wanted to find that horrible monster of a person and smite him with all the power of God on his side.

"They used to ask a question when we were in Seminary." Castiel spun around, still panting angrily. Gabriel stood in the doorway, staring at the pieces of phone that littered the ground. "It was a sort of standard question… 'a man tells you in confession that he's poisoned the altar wine. Do you still go out and say Mass?"

"What was your answer?"

Gabriel grinned widely, almost maniacally, at the child-like confusion on Castiel's face. "I'd go out, say Mass, and drink the wine myself." He laughed and cast the painting of Jesus a fond look. "There's a bit of a martyr in all of us, I guess."

"But what if it's not you suffering," Castiel asked desperately. "What if it's someone else whose suffering, and you know you could stop it just by speaking out-" Castiel cut himself off and rubbed at his eyes. "I never imagined what it must have felt like, being Jesus. I'm not comparing myself to the Messiah, but he kept the sins of millions… I cant keep the secret of one young girl."

"You can't compare yourself to Christ." Gabriel laughed. "And not for the reason you think! He just wasn't human enough, the Son of God. He had certainty. Something you do not." Gabriel smirked. "Heaven, everlasting life… he knew it all with absolute certainty. Well," He said plopping down on the couch. "Give me that, and, fine, no problem, you can crucify me as well and I wont even complain. All the agonies of the world, no bloody problem whatsoever, because I'd be certain that God exists. But I'm not certain. All I've got is faith." Gabriel looked towards the kitchen where the faint sound of Kali doing the dishes reached their ears. He smiled for a moment, and then something dark crossed over his face. "But then something evil always comes along, grinning, sickening evil, and then your faith just runs away in terror."

"The day before he suffered, he took bread in his sacred hands, and looking up to Heaven, to You, his Almighty Father, he gave You thanks and praise. He broke the bread, gave it to his disciples and said, 'take this, all of you and eat it. This is my body… which will be given up for you.' When supper was ended, he took the cup. Again, he gave You thanks and praise, gave the cup to his disciples and said, 'Take this, all of you, and drink from it. This is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant. It will shed for you and for all, so that sins may be forgiven. Do this in memory of me."

Handing out Communion had never been a chore. Every person who came up to him, Castiel pitied. He pitied the blind hope in their eyes and the faith that they put into their religion. He stared down at the individual hands of the congregation, placing the Communion crackers in the middle of palms, damp with sweat from the humid air in the stuffy church. And then a pair of hands that he was intimately familiar with appeared in his vision. He looked up and green eyes met with green. Castile stared at Dean, unable to speak or move. Dean smiled hopefully at Castiel, and Castiel almost smiled back before he remembered where he was. He lowered the Communion plate and stared at the place just off of Dean's shoulder until Dean sighed and walked away to the back of the church.

When Mass ended, Castiel's eyes roamed the quickly emptying church for Dean, but instead of finding the freckled man he came face to face with Gabriel. "Who was he?" Gabriel whispered as if they were sharing a harmless secret.

Castiel shrugged, refusing to make eye contact. "No idea."

Gabriel snorted. "Riiight… you had no idea who this guy was and you couldn't give him communion?"

"No."

Gabriel huffed out a breath of laughter. "I've never denied anyone communion. Never felt as if I had the right to take away something special like that."

Castiel's throat tightened. "I had to." He whispered. "Sometimes when I'm sitting in my room, sweating, I turn to Him for help. But instead of Salvation, I see a naked man..." Castiel shuddered, suddenly cold in the stifling heat of the church. "Utterly desirable. I turn to Him for help and He just makes it worse… I understand humanity then; every sin, every compulsion. I understand it all."

Gabriel stared out into the now empty pews. "That's exactly how I felt when I first started seeing Kali. I don't regret a single moment, but now I can't smile and hug and preach the beauty of creation, because inside here there's just perversions and sickness and sin and—" Gabriel choked and his eyes were suddenly wet and shiny. "I was going to get out, Cassie, years ago. But it would've broken my Dad's heart. He had already lost my two brothers and I didn't want him to lose me too. So I waited… by the time he died it was too late. There was nothing I could do." Gabriel grabbed Castiel's shoulders and leaned in close. So close that they were almost kissing and Castiel could practically taste the sickly sweet coffee that lingered on Gabriel's breath. "Get out now, Cassie, while you still have your health and strength. You gotta love who you want, when you want, hell, where you want. Get out."

Castiel shook his head. "I can't get out." He rasped. "God wants me to be a priest."

"Cassie-"

"I don't think it," Castiel interrupted. "I don't just... believe it. I know it."

Gabriel looked at Castiel, a look of betrayal and defeat clear on his face. "I'll pray for you, Castiel."

Gabriel swept out of the church, leaving Castiel alone with his thoughts. His stupid goddamn thoughts about the look on Dean's face when Castiel denied him communion and Gabriel's insistence that he get out while he still could. Castiel looked up at the huge wooden crucifix that hung behind the altar. Jesus stared soulfully down at him, silently judging Castiel with his empty eyes.

"DO SOMETHING!" Castiel screamed at the Wooden Jesus. His voice bounced off of the empty church walls. "Don't just hang there, you smug, idle bastard! DO SOMETHING! I don't give a damnabout your stupid, fucking seal!" Castiel stalked away from the crucifix before spinning around and going right back up to it, pushing his face right up to the one carved out of wood. "I'm gonna tell someone." He hissed. "That's what you'd do, isn't it? That's what Jesus would do. She's a

thirteen-year-old girl. You wouldn't see her suffer… you'd say, you'd say, 'This girl is me. This girl is all-suffering humanity. For this I came'."

Castiel started to sob, pushing his face into the Wooden Jesus' neck and clutching at the Wooden Jesus' shoulders. "You wouldn't give a damn about the church and its rules and its regulations!" He gasped through his tears. "The secrecy of confession… how can that be good when it allows evil to thrive?" Castiel shoved away from the Wooden' Jesus and glared at it hatefully. "You'd speak out! You'd speak out… I know you'd speak out! You were the Son of God, you could make the rules. And I cant do that! I'm just a priest, and I can't take on years of history!" Castiel knocked the goblet of Communion wine off of the altar and it clattered to the ground, spilling the last few dregs of wine to the ground. "That would be pride." Castiel laughed loudly through the tears that were still pouring down his face. "That would be arrogance. They would crucify me. Burn me like some pagan!" With all the strength that he could muster, Castiel pulled back and punched the Wooden Jesus on his oaken jaw.

There was a sickening crunch and a sharp, blinding pain ran up his arm, causing Castiel to gasp and sink to his knees, clutching his hand to his chest and rocking. He stared up at the Wooden Jesus with defeat in his eyes, and the Wooden Jesus remained unmoving, silent cold and hard. "I'm in the depths of despair." Castiel whimpered "I look around for an example, and all there is, is you." Castiel's voice broke. "You're no man… you perform miracles. You change water into wine, you raise the dead, you… you cured the sick… what kind of example is that? how could you possibly know despair? How could you, with that kind of power, possibly know what I'm going through right now? How…?"