Clara couldn't move. The threat in Cas' voice was real and she could tell the Cas they all knew, the one she thought she had loved, was gone. Her body felt numb. She wanted to stop caring and give up; just let Castiel kill her. But she couldn't do that to Dean, Sam, and Bobby. They had given so much to her and taught her everything she knew about hunting. She owed it to them to stay strong.

"Well…alright then," Bobby said as he lowered himself to the ground and motioned for her to do the same. She knelt down on the cement floor behind Bobby. Cas stared at them, his expression never changing. "This good or you want the whole forehead-to-the-carpet thing?"

Dean turned to them, a disappointed look on his face until he looked back and saw the one on Castiel's. Asking them to bow down to the "new God" wasn't a joke or an exaggeration. He was serious and they all knew if they didn't listen, Cas would blow them to pieces like he did to Raphael.

"Guys…" Bobby said.

Sam and Dean could hear the fear in Bobby's voice and knew he was serious. They both began to kneel down.

"Stop," Castiel demanded. "What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me. Not love, not respect. Just fear."

Sam stepped forward towards him.

"Cas," he pleaded.

"Sam, you have nothing to say to me. You stabbed me in the back," Cas said to him. He looked back over at Clara and Bobby.

"Get up," he said. They listened. Clara could feel fear in her veins like ice. The only other time she had been so frightened was the night Dean had saved her life. Crowley had never even scared her as much as Cas did.

"Cas, come on. This is not you," Dean tried.

"The Castiel you knew is gone," Cas proclaimed.

"So, what then? Kill us?" Dean asked.

"What a brave little ant you are," Cas said to him. Dean seemed shocked by his words. "You know you're powerless. You wouldn't dare move against me again. That would be pointless. So, I have no need to kill you. Not now. Besides, once you were my favorite pets before you turned and bit me."

Clara couldn't stay quiet any longer. She stepped forward and Bobby put his arm out to stop her. She pushed him away and instead stood next to him. She didn't need to be protected.

"Who are you?" she asked Cas.

"I'm God," he told them. "And if you stay in your place you may live in my kingdom. If you rise up I will strike you down. Not doing so well are you, Sam?"

She looked over at Sam. He was out of breath and looked like he was about to faint. She wondered what he had seen when he had been unconscious.

"I'm fine," Sam mumbled. He cleared his throat. "I'm fine."

"You said you would fix him. You promised!" Dean yelled.

"If you stood down, which you hardly did. Be thankful for my mercy. I could have cast you back in the pit," he said facing Sam.

"Cas, come on this is nuts. You can turn this around, please," Dean pleaded.

"I hope for your sake this is the last you see of me," Cas said and then vanished.

Unlike the other times Castiel had suddenly disappeared, it was the first that Clara ever hoped they would never see him again, out of fear and out of hate. Sam stumbled across from her. She ran towards him.

"Sam, are you okay?" She asked. Blood began to run from his nose and a complete look of terror overtook his face as he stared into the empty air in front of him.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, running over.

Sam fell to the ground before either of them got a second to catch him and a huge shard of glass from the broken jar of blood stuck almost completely through his hand. She reached for his hand to stop him from harming himself more as he yelled and flailed in utter fear of something none of them could see. Her heart was racing. She didn't know what to do and neither did Dean. Bobby grabbed his legs and Dean grabbed his other arm and pulled his head up.

"Sammy," he yelled. "Sam, look at me. You're okay."

Sam seemed to come back to reality.

"Dean," he gasped and then shut his eyes. His body went limp and he was unconscious once more. She moved around and sat cross-legged behind him. She took both hands and gently moved Sam's head from Dean to her lap. Dean was deep in thought as they sat there. She knew he wanted to kill Cas, but he couldn't. Cas had betrayed them, hurt Sam, and become a power-hungry monster. But he was also the only one who could fix Sam. He had been more than family to them before, and there was no way they could take on God, if what Cas said had been true. She knew how Dean felt because she felt the same way. It was tearing her apart inside. Cas had left them in the worst position where there was a fork in the road and death on either side. Dean stood up and walked away, heading up the stairs and leaving her and Bobby. She reached for an apron that was crumpled up on the floor next to them. She wiped the bottom of Sam's nose and upper lip which were soaked in blood and then leaned his head up a bit so he wouldn't choke if the bleeding continued. Bobby inspected Sam's hand.

"Should we take the glass out or leave it in until we get back to the house?" She asked him. Bobby cleared his throat.

"Well, it'd be best to take it out now but I don't think wrapping it in a dirty apron is going to do him any good either," Bobby said.

"I think this used to be an old lab or morgue or something. Check the cabinets over there," she said pointing to a few metal cabinets in the corner.

Bobby walked over to them and searched. He came back empty handed.

"Nothing but gloves and dust," he said bending back down towards Sam. She thought for a moment.

"Can I see your knife?" she asked him.

He looked at her strangely but reached in his pocket and handed her his pocketknife. She popped open the largest one and put it to the sleeve of her shirt. The blade ripped through the material easily as she cut the sleeves off of each arm. She pulled the sleeves off and handed Bobby his knife back.

"Do you have your flask?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I always carry it with me," he answered, confused.

"Is there whiskey in it?"

Bobby reached into the inner pocket of his shirt and took out the flask. He shook it.

"A bit," he answered. "I don't usually recommend cleaning wounds with it though."

"Well, we either do it now or leave it in on the way back and risk him waking up and making it worse," she told him.

Bobby thought for a moment before nodding. He stepped over to the other side of Sam and sat down. He grabbed Sam's hand and looked carefully at it. The thought of the pain made Clara sick and she had to look away.

"So, what took you guys so long?" she asked, noticing the way Sam's eyes were darting back and forth rapidly underneath his eyelids. "Did you go back and get Sam?"

"No, he must've driven here himself. When Crowley showed up he saw our car. Flipped it over a few times and knocked us out for a while." She glanced back over at Sam's injured hand in time to see Bobby gently pulling the glass out. She quickly turned back and averted her gaze to the clock.

"He just gave Dean more of a reason to find him and kill him. Not that he didn't have one before," Bobby said. She heard the sound of liquid hitting the cement and knew he was pouring the whiskey on Sam's hand. She could stomach that. She handed him the sleeves she had cut off and he tied them together before tying the whole thing around Sam's palm. "That should do it for now. Go and get Dean so we can carry him outta here. We're going to take the Chevelle back and we can tow the Impala back later."

She lifted Sam's head off of her lap and backed up before carefully setting it on the ground. His nose had stopped bleeding. She stood up and headed up the stairs and out of the building. She didn't see Dean but she could see headlights over where she had parked earlier. She jogged through the dew covered grass feeling the cold water dampen her ankles. She made it up the hill and saw the Impala. It was worse than she thought. The car was on its back and pieces of metal and glass scattered the ground all around it. The headlights were the ones she had seen in the distance. They were still on. She heard metal creaking and grunting and saw Dean trying to wrench open the driver's side door. She walked over to him.

"Bobby needs your help carrying Sam," she said. She wanted to apologize again but knew it wasn't the time. He wouldn't listen now. His mind was trying to figure out what to do next with God, with his car, and with his brother. He let go of the door and took his right hand to his face, wiping the newly formed sweat off of his forehead. She opened her mouth to say something but he headed off back towards the building before she could. She watched him until he got to the building and then walked over to the Chevelle. She took the keys out of her pocket, got in, and started it. She opened the back door and moved over the bag of supplies she had brought with from Bobby's to make room for Sam. She thought again about how stupid she had been going into face Castiel with nothing but the angel blade. Nothing else she had brought with would've done much damage but if she had waited for Dean and Bobby the night probably would've gone differently. She leaned against the side of the car and waited for them to bring Sam over. The stars were fading as the early morning light started in the distance. She thought back to the moment when she had first met Cas and how she hadn't believed in God until that moment. When she was younger she had wanted to believe that there was a higher power protecting them but saw death and hatred too often to have faith. After the murder of her parents she had only believed that evil existed and wanted nothing but revenge. And then Castiel came into her life and showed her that God was real. There was good and evil. There were angels and demons. He had given her hope the second she had seen his brilliantly blue eyes. His open heart and innocence allowed her to fall in love with him. Now, it seemed to her that evil was still the only thing that had ever existed. She questioned whether God had ever been alive. She heard the footsteps and heavy breath of Dean and Bobby as the struggled to carry Sam to the car. She forced the thoughts that caused her confusion and pain out of her mind and continued to keep everything to herself. They set Sam in the back and Bobby sat with him. She opened the passenger's side door and got in and Dean did the same on the driver's side. He turned the car around and forcefully stepped on the gas. He hit a button on the stereo to change the station, and turned up the volume as AC/DC's "Shoot to Thrill" blasted through the speakers as they flew down the road.