Yay for an update!I personally really like this chapter, so... ya!

And it's longer then the last one like promised!

Um, Trigger Warning: If blood and other forms of mental torture is a thing for you... then don't read this chapter

Currently un-betad

Hope you like it!

Payback

Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me,

Because I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken-

*1 week later*

Castiel groaned and struggled weakly to his feet. It had been a week since he had gone to Dr. Singer's office, and Meg and the others were staying true to their word when it came to making him pay for getting help. The Ziprasidone had long since been flushed down the toilet, but that wasn't enough- he should've known, really. He was weak- to go and get help, and now he was paying the price.

The second he came back after his second visit, they'd been waiting. His apartment had been turned into a death trap. The rotting flesh of god knows what was splattered over every surface, and the smell. The rancid flesh was lying in clumps and strips over everything, the counters, the walls, the floor, everything. 'No' Castiel thought, 'No. Please. Anything but my-' Before he could even complete the thought he lurched his way forward and into his office, doing his best to block out the smell of the rotting meat around him. When he reached the door that led to his office, he took a deep breath and let out a quick prayer before putting his hand on the red door knob and letting himself in.

Blood was dripping off the counters and crusting on the floor. With barely contained horror, Castiel let his eyes travel to his life support.

No.

His laptop, the one thing that kept him from having to go out, the thing that supplied him with money and food and allowed him to keep a house over his head and keep people from coming to call on him.

Why did they have to get his laptop?

Oozing out of the keyboard were trails of congealed blood. He just watched, horrified, as one trail thickened and stretched. It grew- until what seemed like an eternity later it broke off, and fell to the floor with a sickening splash. Nauseated, Castiel fled, running back down the hallway and to the door, needing to get out of whatever sickening joke they had decided to play on him.

He moved to turn the knob to just get out, but it wasn't turning. Both his hands and the knob were slick with blood, and he just needed out now. Castiel started to panic and pawed at the door wildly.

Trapped.

The sickly smell of the flesh was starting to overwhelm him, and he started to throw himself against the door over and over again. At one point over the ringing in his head he heard someone screaming. Loudly. He didn't even have time to register that it was him before he slipped and was sent crashing to the floor.

Red. Everything was red.

The world slowly stopped spinning, and Castiel found himself face to face with a lump of bloodied torn flesh. Before he could even come to terms with that alone, a maggot squeezed itself out of a fold in the skin, letting loose a trail of blood in its wake. It surged forward, and wriggled over the length of meat until it toppled into the sea of blood around it. Slowly, more and more started coming out of the carcass. They congregated, and started forming a mass of putrid sentience.

Slowly, the pile of them grew, their milky white skin turning the same color red as the blood around them. They pushed against one another and started moving, coming closer and closer to Castiel's frozen body. There were hundreds of them now, all covered in tiny bits of skin and things he didn't want to even think about. They covered him, and wormed their way into every crevice available. He could see their faces, their black beady eyes and their mouths filled with mashes of flesh. They nuzzled their way under his clothes, and wriggled until he was completely swaddled in their squirming bloodied bodies.

Castiel's vision began to fog over and swirl. His stomach pitched; and Cas had seconds to lurch to his hands and knees before acid clawed its way up his throat to join the pools of red at his feet. His head blurry and buzzing, his ears ringing, and his throat burning, Castiel found himself completely gone to the world. Muscles abandoning him, he collapsed back to the floor, landing in his own bile and back into the mass of maggots and blood.

Lying there, completely vulnerable to whatever else they had planned for him. Castiel could only wait for them to show their faces. He had no energy left, no ounce of will or ability to do anything but take whatever they decided he deserved.

He didn't have to wait long.

Over the ever-present ringing cascading through his skull, a new sound came into play. He could hear the faint laughter of the demon that so often appeared to him. Her heeled boots clicked down the hall, getting louder every second. From his view on the floor, he could only watch as she sidled up to him, and crouched down, looking him dead in the eye. She turned her head a little to the right in mock concern.

"How you doing, Clarence? You don't look so good. Do you not like your welcome present?"

Once again the world started swirling and darkening around him. This time he welcomed it, as it was the only form of escape he was going to get. Right as he was about to fall into the fog that was dragging him under, Meg laughed and reached forward, yanking him up by his neck and leveling him in front of her eyes.

"Oh no you don't, Clarence. You see, I'm a bit bored at the moment, and I think it's time you and I play a game. It'll be fun! Don't conk out on me now! You wouldn't want to leave me alone, would you?" she cackled then, clearly ecstatic with the way things were going.

"It's going to be a great week. You'll see!"

Every day since coming home to the death trap had been no better than the last. When his head stopped swirling and the world around him began to make sense again; the maggots were gone, as was all traces of the blood in the room around him. He struggled to his feel and all but ran to the shower to wash off the blood and vomit that was quickly drying and sticking to his every pore.

Castiel threw himself into the bathroom and brokenly turned the shower on. Freezing water pelted from the showerhead, and Castiel quickly stripped out of his blood crusted and soaked clothes and stepped in, huddling himself into the corner of the stall until the water warmed up. Slowly, after some of the heat had soaked back into his locked muscles, he shifted until he was under the steaming showerhead. The blood rolled off his shoulders and hair and collected in the bottom of the stall, turning the water a sickly shade of pink. Doing his best to ignore what he was doing, Castiel raised his hands to his hair and frantically started running his fingers through it, dislodging masses of… things and other questionable substances as fast as he could, and doing his best to keep his stomach level when he heard the unmistakable splashes and thunks when they hit the ground.

As soon as he felt like his hair was free, he started shivering deeply, his whole body rocking and heaving. He lashed out and grabbed the lip of the soap stand and gripped it for all it was worth. With a locked jaw, Castiel squeezed his eyes closed and did his best to breathe evenly.

Slowly the world stopped spinning and Cas was able to finish washing. He kept his eyes closed and blindly reached for the soap. When his fingers trailed over the familiar slippy surface, he closed his fingers around it and brought it to his body. With quick, precise movements, Castiel lathered himself and stepped under the water once more.

The thick, creamy liquid splattered onto his shoulders and oozed its way down, sliding over his slick body and splattering onto the tile below. The unmistakable smell of sex mixed with the heat of the room- and wait what?

Castiel's eyes flew open to view the scene around him. White, thick fluid sputtered out of the showerhead and coated his face and body. With utter horror, Cas staggered backwards, wildly pushing the stuff out of his face and slapping it off his body. His momentum caught up to him then, and he slipped. Castiel crashed to the ground, catching his head on the soap stand in the process. With a muted groan, Castiel rolled himself into a ball and clutched his throbbing head in his hands. When he looked up, the water was back to normal, if not cold.

With shaky movements, Castiel quickly ran himself under the cold shower and dried off. Clutching the towel to himself, Cas hesitantly opened the bathroom door and glanced into the hall.

Nothing.

Everything was back to the way he had left it. The walls were clean, the halls were clear; nothing was disturbed. Castiel took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing himself to feel it all the way down to his toes. Shakily, yet more solid than before, Cas headed to his room and closed the door. He looked around it then, as if to check to make sure everything was normal, and in its place. His bed was made, his side table was meticulously organized with his books in a neat pile to the left stacked largest to smallest, and with a glass of water filled to the halfway mark on a small coaster closest to the bed. Relaxing at the familiarity, Castiel went to his closet and opened it. His few belongings were organized by type, use, and color; each piece folded neatly and directly on the crease in their designated sections.

Quickly, Castiel pulled out a pair of sweat pants and an oversized shirt and slipped them on. He would have to clean his hoodie and get it dry soon, if he wanted to have at least a semi-normal day. He exited his room then, and went to the kitchen.

Empty.

Still on guard, Castiel went over to the pantry to try and find something edible, or at least not expired. He pulled out a loaf of bread, and counted it at least a small victory that is was only slightly stale. He turned around and put it in the toaster. To wait out the time, Castiel prepped some coffee, and in no time he had a piping hot cup in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. Castiel guided himself to the table and sat down heavily, resigning himself to drinking his coffee and eating in peace.

During the time that it took for Cas to drain the cup of coffee, he relaxed into the idea that after last night and this morning's episodes, Meg would leave him in peace. Castiel almost smiled at that, and went to put another piece of bread in the toaster.

In a few moments, he heard the cheerful little 'ding!' that announced the readiness of the toast. Once he got it, he put it on his plate and proceeded to butter it in practiced motions. After it was spread evenly and to ever corner of the bread, Castiel set the knife down and lifted the bread to his lips.

While he ate, he preoccupied himself with looking out the semi-closed blinds at the street before him. The runners and the cyclists would go by every few moments, taking full advantage of the sidewalk available. Castiel's chewing slowed, as he watched, and presently noticed an odd texture in the bread. Cautiously, Cas bit down on the object, and felt if not heard the squish-

Revulsion washed through Cas and he spit his food onto the plate. Right in the middle of the bite was a mash of three or four maggots, pathetically wriggling their half mutilated bodies. Half delirious, Castiel glanced at the toast he was almost halfway through eating. Maggots moved and squirmed under the sheen of butter and would every now and then fall out and land onto the plate. Cas could feel the ones moving in his stomach, and he promptly ran to the trashcan and threw up what little he had eaten.

"Rise and shine, Clarence!" As if on cue, Meg came strolling into the kitchen. Grimacing, Castiel rinsed off his mouth and turned to face her.

"What do you want, Meg?"

"Nothing!" Meg declared, innocently. She then gestured over to the toast on the table, still squirming with bugs. "You going to finish that?"

Castiel only glared at her. Meg shrugged, and wondered over to the abandoned toast, bringing in to her lips easily. She took a large bite and chewed noisily, taking care to swirl the food around in her mouth obscenely.

Trying not to feel nauseated again, Castiel turned away from her, waiting for Meg to finish and state why she was here, if she had a purpose at all.

"Oh Clarence, don't ignore me like that! It was a joke! We're going to have a good time. I swear."

Meg stayed with him for the next week, never truly leaving him alone. The majority of the day Castiel found himself in a ball in a corner of the room, holding himself as tightly as possible and praying for it all to end. Every time he went to eat he went to eat he would find the food crawling with maggots, or halfway through decomposing with fermenting juices collecting around it. He didn't have much luck on the drink field either, it was all blood.

After a while, he just stopped trying.

She wouldn't let him eat, wouldn't let him drink, and wouldn't let him sleep. Castiel was beginning to wonder what he could do. No sooner had he thought it that a noose cracked down from the ceiling and hung in front of him.

Oh.

On day four, Castiel finally gave in to sleeping. He had been walking down the hallway when the ground just got closer. And then it wasn't the cold, wooden floor, it was a bed. A king bed. One with 2000 count sheets and with a mattress so soft…

Castiel awoke to being flung onto the ceiling.

Meg stood under him, positively livid with fury. "What is your problem?! You agreed you wouldn't go to sleep! So I come back, ready to have a lovely chat, and where are you?"

Meg started throwing him back and forth in the air, slamming him into the wall with every pause. "Where are you but sleeping!"

The others appeared next to her then, distorted faces laughing and jeering up at him. Occasionally, one would flick their hand to send him crashing into another wall over and over again, drawing out shrieks of pleasure from the crowd below. Slowly, Castiel lost everything; he couldn't see, couldn't hear, and couldn't breathe. The only thing he really knew was the pain.

"What are you doing Castiel!?" Meg screeched, "Flying from the rafters, I guess that's all fags like you do anyways, huh?!"

Castiel felt his nose shatter then, as she threw him into the wall. He felt the hot tears stream down his bloody face, stinging whenever they ran into one of his cuts.

"Please. Please I'm not- I'm not a fag. I'm not gay. I'm not gay! Meg PLEASE! I'M NOT! DAD? DAD I'M YOUR SON! PLEASE BELIEVE ME! DAD I'M NOT! I WOULDN'T! DAD PLEASE! NOT GAY. I'M NOT GAY! NOT. GAY…"

Castiel's voice grew louder and louder, until he was practically screeching. He felt his throat rip and split at the seams, but he didn't care. He needed him to understand. He yelled until nothing came out but a strangled cry. He screamed until his eyes puffed over and his ears burst.

Slowly, Meg lowered the catatonic man onto the floor. She looked at him then, eyes black and emotionless as he lay there unresponsive.

"Ok enough!" Meg yelled, kicking Castiel in the side. Hard. "Clarence, I think you've learned your lesson, ok? I forgive you. Just promise me you won't try and pull something like that again, ok?

"Well Clarence, it's been fun. I feel like we've bounded a lot more, you know? We've settled some of our differences, and I think that next time we meet will be better for it. But I've been on holiday for too long- and I think it's time to get back. Don't worry! I'll be back soon! Don't get into any trouble now!"

Meg stood before Castiel, though no one would really be able to recognize him. His face was thinner, and his ribs and collar bones stood out. He looked shrunken, and his clothes hung from his body loosly, barely holding on. That wasn't the only thing different about him, though. His eyes were dead, haunted. His skin was almost translucent, and his eyes looked hollowed and sunken in.

Like he was already dead.

She slid up to hin then, grinning wildly. "And I'd hope this isn't just me, but I'd like to think that maybe… you and I, maybe we've gotten closer? You know, on a more personal level?"

She reached out for him and took his hands, choosing to ignore the full body flinch it evoked, and placed them on her waist, stepping closer. Her eyes glinted, and she leaned in, brushing her lips to the shell of his ear.

"Don't you think?"

Slowly, Meg turned her head and trailed her cold lips across his jaw, relishing in the way Castiel's muscles jumped and shrank away from her touch. Finally, she settled on his lips. She crushed their bodies together, wrapping her arms around his neck and running her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck for purchase. Meg trailed her tongue across his lips before dipping in, tracing her tongue along his. Castiel felt cold burrow into his bones- coating him with liquid distress. The cold seeped into him, and Castiel flung his eyes open, wary to the next stage of her torture, but found himself alone in the room.

Not quite remembering what he should be doing, Castiel wandered back to his room and sat on his abandoned bed. The hunger was clawing at his stomach and his throat felt rough and broken, but eating wasn't an option right then. Just the thought of putting something in his mouth was almost enough to make him puke. His skin crawled, and the images of the bugs and decay flashed through his brain, effectively shutting down the idea of eating for any time soon. They had been on everything.

He felt disconnected, which was more than he expected to feel at this point, and laid down on the forgotten mattress, not even bothering to take off his clothes- he didn't have the energy. Castiel closed his eyes, relishing in the blackness. It felt like he was floating...

A chorus of horns blasted through his house, followed by a resounding crash. Castiel shot up in his bed, clutching at the blanket.

No no no no. You said you were gone. You said you'd leave me alone!

Castiel sat there, his grip on the blankets being the only thing keeping him from shooting off the edge. After a few moments, his heart rate slowly started to lower in halting progressions. He sat there, not knowing whether it was ok or not to go back to bed. The door made up his mind for him. A loud ring shot through the house, followed quickly by four or five more rapid-fire rings.

Castiel shot off his bed and ran at the door. The last time he kept Meg waiting…

When he opened the door, a man almost fell into the room. He was sweaty, and breathing heavily. Scared, Castiel stumbled back, distancing himself from the strange man in front of him. Except…

Hesitantly, Castiel whispered, "Hello"

The man looked up then, breath slightly back under control. "Hi. Um, I'm Dean, Dean Winchester. There was an accident right outside, and I don't have my phone. Can I borrow yours to call the cops? It's urgent. I think, shit, I think someone got hurt."

So ya! Chapter 3! A lot more was supposed to happen in this chapter and this was only supposed to be a side thing, but then what do you know! It turned into a whole chapter that took over everything and pushed the rest aside. Ah well! As is writing!

Song was Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls (Though Kellin Quinn's cover is amazing and if you guys haven't heard it you should check it out)

Thanks so much for the feedback so far! I love it and I love you and it makes me want to keep on writing- so thank you

Reviews make updates come faster!