Chapter 26: Grace Given
Blood. So much blood. Castiel knew that he had around 5 liters of blood in his body, or a bit over one gallon. It amazed him that some humans voluntarily donated their blood to help others, losing a small part of themselves in order to help save others' lives. It was another reason to respect them. Though, on a more pressing note it was evident that he had begun to lose more blood than he should-well, ideally zero blood loss is a goal, but in his current state… He had read in a first aid book (while looking up how to treat toothaches-as Dean often had the malady) that losing around 2 liters was bad, as in, bad enough to necessitate hospitalization. He estimated he had lost around a liter at this point and there appeared to be no end near.
The 'discussion' as his brothers insisted on calling it, had become more visceral than it had been initially. The holy fire covering his back had been extinguished, leaving a bubbled mass of flesh with visible bits of bone poking along his spine. It was free of pain, given that there were no longer nerve endings in the area to feel pain. The cuts on his arms, legs, and chest were still oozing blood as he was again struck with a rod. This time it was Uriel. The three had gone to taking turns torturing him, with the other two screaming at him to relinquish his humanity as they read portions of a text to try to warp his mind.
It was ineffective. Castiel had mentally blocked himself from the onslaught, relying on the feelings of love and peace he had had with the boys and with Bobby to shut out the attacks. He concentrated on Bobby's birthday party the previous year when Dean had insisted on a piñata, and Bobby's incredulous look at being blindfolded and given a broom to smack the small paper orb. The memory eased the pain, but the dull heat of injury was growing toward a fever and it was increasingly difficult to resist breaking.
"WHY. WON'T. YOU. GIVE. UP." Uriel shouted, sweeping the rod under Castiel's arms and legs, causing his body to again hit the floor, then repeatedly hitting him in time with each of the words.
"Uriel, stop. You are clearly not skilled enough at this. Repeatedly hitting him has yielded no results, why would it now?" Zachariah rolled his eyes as he walked over and motioned for the rod. "Castiel. If you relinquish your spark we will heal you from this pain and return you to heaven, where you will be freed from your tainted memories of this event and the time with the humans." He smiled, an attempt at being the 'good cop' in this routine, but it was clear from the hatred in his eyes that there was no empathy in the angel.
Castiel panted as he slowly lifted his head from the ground, his face bruised nearly beyond recognition, his nose broken and his eyes bloodshot, "I will never let you take this from me. I would rather fall than try to advance 'the plan'. I will never let you have my boys fight, I have ensured that they love each other and will avoid the conflict. They will live normal lives, as I want them to. I will continue to fight you every moment I get if you refuse to turn from this prophesy. Sam and Dean will never do as you intend so long as I am here and can protect them."
"You would sacrifice your grace for a bunch of filthy apes who barely comprehend God's glory and power?!" Raphael was furious. He had heard enough. "Brother I am disappointed in you, but consider this a consolation for your insolence." He quickly flashed a large blade and struck the air behind Castiel's shoulder blades. Had Castiel been a human it would have been harmless, but because he was not…
"Raphael?! What have you done?" Uriel ran beside him and took the angel blade from his hand. Castiel lay on the ground, twitching and foaming at the mouth, clearly having given into the immense pain that had been dealt him.
"He said he wished to fall instead of advance our father's plan, so I made him as the humans are and severed his wings." Raphael turned from Castiel and looked at the ceiling, resolved to break this abomination who claimed to still be one of them.