Song Remains the Same
Chapter 83 / Destroyer
"Stars have died so that you may live."
- Unknown
*** CONTENT TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual Assault(s) and Non-Consensual Situations ***
In the beginning, when humanity was in its infancy, God created the brothers Behemoth and Leviathan—one to rule over the earth, one to rule over the sea. They were both fierce beasts in their own rights, but none was so great as Behemoth, who stalked the land in monstrous form. He towered above all other creatures and commanded fear, respect, and awe. Behemoth valued justice, purity, and righteousness of his own understanding and for some time, he was content to do what God had tasked him to do: govern in justice over humanity and punish small infractions as they arose. The humans worshiped him as a god—they called him Destroyer—and in attempts to appease him and stay his wrath, they gave him sacrifices of young animals, fruit and grain harvests, and virgins. He reveled in being loved and feared, and for some time he was happy with the status quo.
The Leviathan dwelt in the dark waters alone, cut off from the world and left to watch his brother from what felt like a distance. He swallowed down whole those who tempted fate by entering his kingdom and he was known as the monster in the deep. Very few people offered sacrifice to Leviathan—most fled the oceans and shores instead and Leviathan was furious that his brother was greater and more feared than he.
As humans grew in number, as they began to spread out across the land, Behemoth's reign became flimsier and flimsier. His worshipers began to forsake him and forget him and disregard his power as they built civilizations and became more intelligent. Growing angry and irrational at being ignored, Behemoth began to kill all those who did even the slightest wrong in his eyes and he was not sorry—he truly believed he should be revered and that his viewpoints were law. When it became too much, God locked him away.
At that time, the Leviathan thought he would take his chance and become the new deity that the humans worshiped. He disobeyed the command to remain in his watery confines and he instead began to steal his way into humans, using their bodies as his own, splitting himself into many beings as he did so. Leviathan consumed the flesh of people as food and was greedy. God grew angry with him and threw him into exile too.
The creator was disappointed. The brother beasts who were supposed to create order and enforce boundaries had become chaotic and self-serving and murderous. This is why God banished them to Purgatory where they would remain until the end of time, where they could no longer harm humans. In time, humans and history forgot these fierce monsters. Only two small verses remained in the Holy Bible reminding the world of the forgotten catastrophes God removed from existence…
Behold the Behemoth. What strength he has, what power! He ranks first among the works of God, his Maker can only approach him with a sword. Can anyone capture him?
And here is the sea, great and wide, which teems with creatures innumerable, living things both small and great. See the Leviathan: No one is so fierce that he dares to stir this creature up. Surely death is in his jaws.
Behemoth and Leviathan were gone forever, a memory and a legend and something most people scoffed at as caveman lore. And then in the year 2012, a desperate and fallen angel did what was never supposed to be done: He cracked open the veil that separated Purgatory from earth and he let an innumerable amount of souls enter him, all for the purpose of saving the one he loved. Among those souls he absorbed? Two of the most powerful and dangerous beings of all time. Behemoth and Leviathan.
Inside this angel, a war began to wage. It was a blurred and confused struggle between three ancient beings—Angel, Behemoth, and Leviathan. Each wanted control and dominance over the other. Underneath the weight of millions of souls, the angel floundered and failed and tried again and again to regain control as Behemoth and Leviathan joined forces and quashed him down inside of himself. However, what they could not crush or diminish was the love and affection so deeply seared into the vessel Castiel had inhabited for so long. As such, they mistook his feelings and convictions for their own.
For the rest of his life, Castiel would blame himself for what those souls from Purgatory did through him... for the unthinkable things that were soon to befall the world and the woman he loved…
Darkness. And then sudden blinding light and the feeling of rocketing at some surface above.
Alex gasped a deep, panicked breath into shockingly empty lungs as her eyes snapped wide open. Automatically she shot up to sit, disoriented and freaking out and trying to push Cas away to stop him from the scorchingly painful soul touch. And then she realized that he wasn't touching her at all and she wasn't even where she'd been when that happened.
Confounded, Alex held onto the enormous chair she inexplicably found herself in and stared up at Cas, who stood watchful over her quietly with an odd smile on his face instead of the enraged glare that had been there before.
What just happened? Am I hallucinating? Is this part of the soul touch? Am I unconscious or something?
Last she remembered, Cas had been angrily pushing her against a wall and making insane accusations about her 'being with' Balthazar and hurting her to the point of excruciation—now she was sitting in the center of a huge circular room that was ornate in every detail. The space boasted insanely tall gold-gilded windows evenly spaced into walls that glittered like diamond. Warm, ethereal light filled the room and overhead misty white vapor hung pleasantly, not unlike clouds. This room was clearly a haven, a place of peace and tranquility and majesty. But Alex did not feel at peace. In fact, she was terrified out of her mind without knowing entirely why.
Cas watched her silently, seeming almost... pleased... despite her clear alarm. Her instincts made her shrink back even more from him. "W-what happened?" she asked, scanning around and trying to be discreet and quick. She realized there was no visible exit anywhere. Some amount of time had obviously passed, but she had no clue how much. "W-where are we?"
A thoughtful, pleasant expression rested on Castiel's face. "So you don't remember."
His voice had some ominous quality to it that she had never heard there before—it matched the almost sly way his eyes dwelt on her. Alex studied him with an increasingly hammering heart and sickening stomach. "R-remember… what?" she asked in a soft, scared voice. "Where are we? H-how long was I out?" She remembered his crazed, out-of-character actions what just seemed a moment ago and now he was just blank and tranquil? She didn't understand, and all of her inner alarms were blaring danger, danger!
He smiled to himself and looked off slightly. "Oh, you weren't unconscious," he said lightly, almost chuckling at her choice of phrasing. "You were…" he thought a moment, then said the next word in near amusement as he looked her in the eye again. "Dead."
Dumbfounded, Alex gaped. Dead? He turned away from her and descended the polished stairs that led up to the chair she was in. He spoke as he languidly made his way down those steps. "It seems, in my anger, I killed you. However, as you can see, that is no longer an issue." He spoke about it all so offhandedly, with such detachment, and Alex stared at his retreating back while questioning her sanity. She had to be dreaming. Cas wasn't acting right or even talking in his voice, what he was saying was insane, this place didn't seem real, and she definitely hadn't died. Cas continued, growing more and more pleased with every sentence he spoke. "In fact… nothing is an issue any longer. We have been given freedom, Alexandra." The use of her full name, which Castiel had never addressed her by before, made her skin crawl. "No…" he said, pausing to reconsider his words. "We were given nothing. We… took it. So much power…" he marveled pridefully. Opposite of where Alex still sat frozen, Cas was climbing the few stairs of a raised marble platform on top of which an impossibly thick book was displayed on a solid gold stand. "Free will, choice…" Cas mused in that smooth, slow, unconcerned voice. "They led here. To Paradise."
He picked up a small key that had been laying beside the book and placed it onto a page then passed his hand over it. The key dissolved into blindingly bright light and then disappeared completely, soaking into the book somehow. Alex felt like her insides shifted slightly and she stared down at herself, even more freaked out than before. She attempted to stand, and it was then that she realized she felt wounded and sluggish. She sat again, feeling sick in a way that wasn't physical. Her muscles were tired, but some other part of herself felt cracked and hurt in a way she didn't recognize. Confused, she wrapped an arm around her stomach and looked at Cas, who turned back and smiled at her in that strange, small way. And she was terrified because she didn't recognize him at all. "Now your soul is written into the book of Heaven," he said, then abruptly amended his statement with the softest chuckle. "Although, it's hardly even necessary anymore. I brought you back better than before."
Alex's horror was growing and growing. "...What do you mean?" she managed in a gaunt whisper. She couldn't speak loudly because she was petrified—nothing felt right. Was this actually happening? He'd killed her with that soul touch? And now thought it was no big deal? Cas would do a lot of things (as she had found out in recent times), but she was pretty damn sure he would never chuckle about accidentally killing her…!
He descended the platform that held the book, his stature and demeanor commanding respect and fear. It was strange and terrifying—he didn't even walk like the Cas she knew, he didn't carry himself the same, his face was different even though it was exactly the same. And the eyes that had once been windows to a beautiful heart were now like cold, haughty hollows. "You will reign at my side forever as Queen of All," he said in soft assertiveness, his intense gaze boring into hers relentlessly as he approached again one step at a time. "The Bride of God. Among all humanity, you are surely the most blessed."
Too scared to know what to say or do, too weak to move or run, Alex just slumped in that chair—which she realized was a throne—and she felt herself getting short of breath. It was crashing down on her with dizzying and sickening weight. Oh, Cas, what have you done? As if he could read her mind, Cas smiled, a slow and smug smirk tugging his lips upward in an expression he had never made. The effect was disconcerting and appalling. "All the souls… they're with me now," he announced in a quiet gloating voice, and Alex's single thought was oh no. Cas drew himself up even taller, lost in hubris and self worship. "I'm capable of anything now. Nothing and no one will ever stand in my way again." He raised his chin and looked down at her loftily. "I am… much better than you remember me."
Alex looked up into those fierce blue eyes and recognized nothing about them. The way he was talking, his soulless eyes, the way his face and voice and even posture was different—Alex's fear abruptly wasn't just for herself. This wasn't Cas standing in front of her. It couldn't be. And that meant something had happened to him. He said he had the souls, did that mean they'd taken over? Was he possessed? Or worse?
"…Who are you?" she asked in a stark whisper, her eyes caged in his gaze.
He raised his chin just slightly, lips curling upwards. "I am the Lord your God. Since creation, I have walked this earth and dwelt in righteousness and glory. I am before and above all things, and greatly to be praised."
Sometimes, fear was hot and angry lava. But the fear Alex felt at that moment? It was bitter subzero ice, like glinting cold needles pinning her in place and slowly driving in toward her heart like murder. Her hands dug into the arms of the throne she sat on so tight that her knuckles lost color. "Where's Castiel?" she asked, meek and quiet and so afraid because what if he were dead in there? "W-what did you do to him?"
Conversational and triumphant, Cas's face grew reminiscent. "Oh, he's still in here…" he said, patronizing in the way he addressed her. "Somewhere." He chuckled, a throaty and foreboding sound. "He is me. And we are him, we are Behemoth and Leviathan and Vampire and so many more… but, as I said, I think you'll like me much better." His smile grew again as Alex shrank back more into the throne at all the bizarre and nonsensical things being said. It was like he was switching personalities, like he couldn't decide who he was. "Look at what I did for you, Alexandra. I became God. I am going to cleanse Heaven and earth of sin and wickedness in your name. I delivered you from eternal damnation and death. You should worship me for all I have done and will do." Cas's head tilted to the side in curiosity, and he looked at her like he was utterly fascinated. His eyes traveled her face, which was displaying all the signs of fear and dismay. "Do I frighten you, child?" he questioned, as if he found that thought sweet and endearing. He knelt down right in front of her, his piercing and watchful eyes making her continue to shrink back. But there was nowhere to go. She was trapped, weakened, and up against a so-called God. Cas, where are you? Are you in there somewhere? Cas's hand touched her hand that was clawed into one of the arm rests of the chair and she remained frozen. His touch felt so familiar, but somehow completely alien too. It felt inappropriate, even though it was only the skin of his palm covering the back of her hand. "Do not be afraid," he said as if he was inwardly chuckling at her fear of him. "I am kind and generous, slow to anger. I would not harm you."
Kind and generous? Gaining some of herself back, getting a little fire in her veins, Alex abruptly yanked her hand away and decided being a scared wallflower wasn't going to cut it. "You killed me," she spat, not sure who she was talking to at this point—batshit crazy Cas? Some insane monster with a god complex from Purgatory? She was kind of banking on the latter. In fact, she was really wondering if maybe Cas had secretly swallowed all those souls before he went nuts and stuck his hand into her out of a fit of jealous rage.
"And then I restored you," he corrected mildly, like an adult might correct a child. "Made you better. Set you onto the throne itself." His eyes beheld hers with a growing and unnerving intensity and interest. "It's strange," he murmured, eyes wandering her face with faint curiosity. "I look up to no one, yet I revere you. Is it because he did? The angel that once inhabited this body?" His eyes dropped down and in a lengthy, entitled way he let his gaze sweep her neck, collarbone, chest, shoulders in a manner that left Alex highly uncomfortable, frozen in fright. "I am not a man… yet I find I desire you in the way a man would desire a woman." Her stomach flipped and twisted as his hands came to rest on either of her jean-clad thighs. His eyes were darker than they had been before. His touch was light and his fingers slowly swept inward to skim the sensitive area of her inner thighs, inward and upward. "So small," he marveled, looking her over again. "So easy to break…" Alex's breath caught in her throat against feelings of confusion and fear—his fingertips were in a place that was inappropriate, but she didn't move away or struggle because she was so afraid of this stranger wearing the face and body of Castiel. He saw the expression on her face and a pleased smirk grew on his face. He pulled her forward to himself as his hands skimmed upward on either side of her waist. Her knees hit his chest and then as he pulled her closer still, her legs were forced to separate at the action. He was pleased with her breathless and wide-eyed fumbling silence and ran two fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear for her. "Make love to me, Alexandra," he commanded in a dark murmur, his hand grazing her shoulder and then drifting downward to ghost over the soft swell of her chest. Her breath caught in her throat out of panic. "Show me the extent your gratitude and affection…" his voice softened more as a hand trailed down again to brush against the crotch of her jeans, "and let me show you mine." He leaned in toward her neck.
She pushed him away weakly as his lips brushed against her neck, barely able to do so because her body felt so drained. "No."
Rejected, he lost the sultry air and his eyes narrowed. "…'No'?" he repeated in a soft, dangerous tone. He appeared to be quietly angered and he challenged her decision to push him away. "You would deny me? Your Lord and your God?" His eyes darkened with displeasure. "No one in all of creation will refuse me." That single sentence had her stock-still with terror. Alex knew that if he wanted to, he could do whatever he wanted to with her. She was too weak, he was too strong, and the way he was talking it sounded like that was exactly what was going to happen. But then he smiled again, as if he were touched by the thought of how kind he was. He was singing a different tune all of the sudden, jarring her completely. "But… for your sake, I will wait. We have eternity, after all. You will change your mind in time…" his voice softened and he reached out to trace two fingers down the skin of her neck and forward, down into the center of her chest. "Long to feel my touch as I long to feel yours…" his eyes rose and looked into hers and promised destruction, possession, and utter ruin.
Alex withered underneath his fingertips and the only thing she could think was that Cas, the Cas she had known and loved, was not the one touching her. This was someone else, something else. Her throat caught and the terror she felt was manifesting itself in alarmed, despairing tears. "What have you done with my—" she faltered, her chest constricting. "W-with Castiel?"
"Don't worry about him," he said to her in a low, coaxing voice, fingers softly tracing the line of her collarbone. "Just submit to me. It's what he would want."
More and more skeeved out by the second, Alex tried to put on a brave, flippant face. "Yeah, sure, maybe later," she said in a weak attempt at sarcasm. She had never wanted to see one or both of her brothers so bad in her entire life. Trying to fly casual, Alex used the only weapon she had in her arsenal: suggestion. Her one priority right now was escape—she'd figure out who had possessed Cas later and there would be hell to pay. "But, uh, in the meantime, while you um, cleanse Heaven and whatever, just… just take me back to my brothers?"
There was another haughty smile. Cas stood again and took in a soft, thoughtful breath through his nose. "Brother." The correction made her stomach flop uneasily. Brother? Cas looked at her in vast apathy and her stumped, mentally anguished expression prompted him to explain himself. "You only have one now."
It hit her then like a fork of lightning and her entire body went numb. "What?" she asked in a voice just above a whisper.
"Dean challenged me," Cas said breezily, and there was an almost fond look on his face like he enjoyed the memory. "And I warned him. But he would not listen."
What the hell did that mean? Alex couldn't breathe. What—the hell—did that MEAN?! Cas just looked at her calmly.
"W-what did you do?" Alex asked, then found the strength to stand up and raise her voice several octaves. "What did you do?!"
Cas's face showed patronizing sympathy. "It's regretful it came to what it did. I know you were… attached to him. And to Bobby. But they were determined to stand in my way. And I had to make examples out of them." Her heart literally broke at that moment, because even though he didn't say it outright, she heard what he was saying. She stumbled back, catching herself awkwardly against an arm of the throne, covering a wretched, horrified sob with her hand. No. No no no no no. "Do not grieve them," Cas said softly, knowingly. "It's better this way."
Insulted and horrified on every level imaginable, Alex was struggling to see straight. "You killed them?" she asked, and adrenaline was beginning to kick in, making her feel stronger and bigger and darker and so, so furious. "You killed my brother and my uncle?!"
Cas was nonplussed. "They left me no choice." He observed her stewing in wrathful grief and practically read her thoughts. "And now you are trying to think of a way to kill me. I assure you…" he smiled quietly, "there is none."
"Well I can try and find one!" she snapped, whipping out the knife she kept in her boot—it wasn't a special knife by any means, just a regular old switchblade, but she wasn't exactly thinking logically. She'd just found out her brother and uncle had been murdered. Two of the most important people in her entire universe—and Cas had been taken from her too somehow. She was enraged, grief-stricken, and given over to the madness of murder. But when she whipped out the knife, her weak body gave out and she fell back powerlessly onto her back and elbows from the burst of physical exertion she'd given. She tried to get up and she couldn't summon the strength at all and she gave a sudden howling sob of rage and sorrow alike, then threw the knife clumsily and feebly at Cas. It hit him sideways, ineffective and harmless, then clattered to the ground.
Cas laughed and it was the strangest, most horror-movie bad guy laugh she had ever heard. His voice changed slightly, becoming amused and enthusiastic, and he almost jeered as he grinned at her with lifeless eyes. "You are the spirited little thing, aren't you?" Inexplicably, a small trail of dark almost black blood ran down out of his nose. He looked down at the knife and shook his head fondly. "You're kinda completing me right now, Lex!"
Alex stared at this stranger wearing Cas's body and seethed, having a hard time breathing steadily. "Did you hurt Sam, too?" she demanded in a wavering voice. Please, please let him be okay at the least. You took everything else… please let Sammy be all right.
"Now why would I do that?" the stranger asked playfully, being coy about the truth.
"Just tell me my brother is okay!" Alex screeched, on the verge of absolute insanity. Yelling took everything out of her and she could barely hold her head up at that point.
Cas's face was strangely animated and expressive and he pulled a face like he was considering her question and finding the answer hilarious. "No. Big brother is not okay. Not at all. See, the Hell wall in his brain? …Gone. Cas busted it. Not the hero you thought he was, huh?" he grinned and chuckled, and the black blood from his nose dripped down into his own mouth.
Alex grunted and sat, pulling herself up on the arm of the throne using every bit of mind-over-matter strength that remained. She felt so weak and elderly, unable to stand without holding on to something. This was the most utterly unthinkable scenario she could have ever imagined, and knowing her entire family was gone or broken had her in the depths of dismay. "Cas—please," she said, trying to see past the enemy who was wearing the body and likeness of her angel. She tried to fight, she tried to believe Cas was still in there somewhere, still capable of saving them all and fixing what was broken. "Y-you're in there somewhere, I know you are! You can still fix this, you can change all of th—"
There was a long, rich laugh that sent chills curling up Alex's spine. "You're wasting your breath, cutie. He's one among millions in here. Do you really think he could rise above all that? Sure, the house is hardwired Cas-style and he's proving sorta stubborn, but give it some time and we'll do some… renovations…" a smile that was nothing but wicked crept across his face. He suddenly seemed to have an idea and his eyes swept up and down: from boots to jeans to dirty t-shirt to worn out jacket. "Say, why don't we get you into something less… euuch?"
He snapped his fingers and Alex started. She was suddenly wearing a pristine, floor-length white dress she would never choose in a million years. The material was slippery and thin, the front was a low-dipping cut that exposed too much skin and the back was low too, starting at the small of her back. Alex felt so violated—the dress was the only thing he had put on her. No shoes. No bra. No underwear.
"Now, don't you just look yummy?" Cas asked, only it wasn't Cas—and he was grinning at her and then biting his lip at the side. "Good enough to eat…" he took hold of her and Alex struggled against him. "Gosh, he really liked you, so much I'm starting to like you, is that weird? Maybe it's because I'm in his meatsuit, you think?" There was a laugh and he was touching her face, petting her.
She tried to push him away to no avail and panic was squeezing her in a tight fist, mind, body, and heart. "Now don't play coy, honey," he murmured silkily, and his hands hurt as they forced her to remain near. Memories of another man trying to hold her down against her will flashed in front of her eyes and Alex knew she had no chance in hell to hold Cas off if it came to that. The thought sent her mind screaming in shrill panic and she did the only thing she could think of.
"Cas—Cas—Castiel!" she screamed, hoping against hope that he was still inside somewhere. Instead of a reply, there was a sickening laugh. And Alex realized with an aching chest and true sense of total panic, Cas was not in there anymore at all. And then, just when she thought all hope was lost and that she was one hundred percent on her own in this horrible situation… she was proved wrong. The deranged and maniacal grin suddenly fell off Cas's face and his hands ceased to be vices on her—and suddenly it was Cas looking at her with wild fear and panic in his wide eyes. She went still, recognizing him immediately. Almost in tears at the burgeoning frantic hope, Alex faltered, second guessing herself. "C… Cas?"
He abruptly shoved her away from himself and stumbled back, holding out a hand like he was trying to keep her from coming near. He grimaced, winced, seized, and doubled over as if from pain or a lot of exertion. "You—need to—run—!" he managed in a tight, gutted voice. Alex stared in terror. How could she run? Cas looked up at her with a face twisted by pain and panic. "I can't—hold them back…! Alex, now! RUN!" he doubled over again, groaning out in screaming agony.
Alex backed away a few feet, clinging with one hand to the throne as her eyes refused to tear away from Castiel. There was nowhere to run! What happened, Cas?! Did you kill my brothers, did you kill me? Or was it these monster souls? Oh, Cas, how can we get them out of you?! Cas looked up at her again as he remained doubled over and his eyes were full of every kind of horror and despair and pain… and then were suddenly squeezing shut as he groaned out then without much warning at all, Cas suddenly straightened and went blank-faced again. He was abruptly calm, serene, and lofty.
The first personality was back, the one who thought he was God, and Alex recognized that even before he spoke. "But you can't run, can you? Where would you flee to? How could you hide? My eyes see all. And there is work to be done. Now, come with me my Queen and watch your master bring in the new age of glory in Heaven and on earth." He smiled to himself, approaching her as she all but cowered against the side of the throne. "They shall call me Destroyer… Rebuilder… and God." He took hold of her despite her soft sound of protest and he stroked a hand against the back of her head, admiring her like she was a trophy—she was stiff in his arms, transfixed in terror, trying to see Cas in there. But she saw nothing recognizable. Only her doom. "And you…" he murmured, touching her chin with the faintest brush of his thumb, "you will love me above all others."
And with those words, the worst part of Alex's life truly began. With those words, she watched herself slowly begin to disintegrate in front of her own eyes to be scattered in pieces on the wind.
Day one.
After leaving the throne room, Cas decimated Heaven, slaughtering hundreds of angels who had been loyal to Raphael. Without mercy, he walked among their corpses and pulled Alex along by the wrist, lecturing her on justice, mercy, and righteousness, saying how there was no father in Heaven to guide the masses. He referred to himself as 'Destroyer' again. Dead angels who had begged him for mercy and been given none stared up blankly as they walked past. Cas then took them to earth where he hunted down and brutally killed every straggler loyalist to Raphael one by one until he was satisfied that none were left who had opposed him. Blood splatters left the smallest red spray patterns across the innocent white of the dress Alex had been made to wear.
Day two.
Cas began to 'cleanse the face of the earth of wickedness' by 'giving justice' to 'those who would disobey the laws of Heaven.' Without taking any breaks whatsoever, he went from church to church killing pastors, preachers, deacons, ministers, and elders. On that day, Cas killed more than one hundred religious leaders as he made Alex watch in dismay. Alex saw how Cas doubled over oddly at one point and grabbed hold of a pew—his hand left burn marks, and he seemed vexed by it, concerned. Believing that if he had a weakness, she should try and find it, Alex tried to stay smart and unafraid. And she hoped that deep down, Cas was fighting his way out. She leaned into that hope, clinging to it. And because she couldn't abide murder of innocents, she attempted to foil his killing spree. She stood in his way once, saying he couldn't kill people and that he was petty, that murder was as wrong as lying (which he seemed to truly despise). Her bravery got her shoved aside and blood from the pastor she'd tried to save stained the hem of her dress. And as punishment for her 'disrespect,' Cas killed innocents—all the churchgoers present except the children. And overcome with terror once more, Alex quickly became meek and helpless for fear of more deaths at her hand. Cas continued to slaughter religious leaders and called them idolaters, bigots, liars, racists, and sinners as Alex stood by and felt wretched, powerless, and feeble. She could do nothing to save these people. Nothing at all. Their screams and their shocked eyes haunted her. The powerlessness and horror she felt was incomparable. The only comfort she could give herself was that by remaining silent, she spared the people surrounding Cas's main targets. But that was not much comfort at all.
Day three.
More of the same. Cas killed one hundred more religious leaders who did not meet with his standards and he made a distraught and sick Alex watch. She noticed how he had to catch himself from stumbling a few times, and each time he did, he left coal-black smoldering burns behind where his hand had been. The smallest, strangest little sore appeared below his left eye. Was he dying? Was he sick? She wasn't sure. Cas did not feed or care for Alex because he just didn't seem to think of it. Deeply afraid of this monster wearing Cas's body, she said nothing of her needs. But she was getting very ill from lack of sleep and sustenance. And then, while Cas was lecturing yet another soon-to-be-dead pastor, Alex ran. She got away and in an almost hallucinogenic trance from low blood sugar, hunger, and adrenaline, she stumbled to the nearest building she could find—a gas station. She hid in the bathroom there without a plan or a purpose. She only wanted to get away. She was faint and weary and mindless, breaking down mentally after the past couple days.
When Cas suddenly appeared and angrily reprimanded her for leaving his side and deserting him, she lied through exhausted tears saying she had run away because she needed food, water, and the bathroom—which was true. But he seemed to care little about her state of well-being and began to pressure her sexually in that dingy bathroom instead, demanding she give herself to him. Some middle-aged police officer heard her protesting Cas's advances from outside. This nameless man came into the bathroom and got himself killed apathetically—and Alex would never, ever forget this man's face or how his attempt to help her had cost him his life. And when Alex was left to sob over this man's death and her role in it, Cas smirked. "See what your reluctance to submit has done?" he mocked. "He is dead because of you. Now let me have you." She still resisted, and he unhappily let it go, saying perhaps if he met her 'lowly and cumbersome' needs better she would love him then. He dragged her to a nearby restaurant and demanded she be fed the finest foods. When the servers reacted poorly to a strange man coming in and demanding food immediately for 'the Bride of God,' when the manager said he didn't want trouble and told Cas to leave… Cas grew angry and killed the entire restaurant of people and lectured their dead bodies on sinfulness, gluttony, and how their lack of faith and love was their ultimate greatest sin. He monologued on how humans had never recognized his greatness but they would soon, and all would bow to him in time as they had before. He called himself Destroyer again and Alex was emotionally demolished.
Day four.
Cas tired of Alex's needs and constant grieved appeals. She begged for him to resurrect Dean and Bobby, she begged for him to fix Sam, she begged for Cas, the real Cas, to please help, to overcome the monsters possessing him. She begged him to let her go, to make it end. In annoyance, Cas abruptly took hold of her and threatened her, saying although she had his highest favor, that could change. He said if she kept being 'petulant' he would punish her very severely. He then took and left her in the wilderness somewhere, locked away into a fancy vacation lake house that was empty and secluded. She was trapped. He had used supernatural means to keep her prisoner. The windows did not break, the door would not be picked or destroyed. She languished there, contemplating killing herself to end this utter misery. There were no phones, but there was food, all canned and dry goods. She spent several days alone there, grieving her dead brother and uncle, her dead husband (she hadn't seen the true Cas since the throne room), her dead heart, her suffering twin brother. She began to lose track of the days. She slept little and felt like she was slowly dying. All she could think about was the life that had led up to this point. She remembered the years past. Dad, Dean, Sam. Their life on the road. She let those memories sustain her. She remembered the sun kissing the side of her face when she'd been small, Dean piggybacking her and chasing Sam the entire time. She remembered climbing trees and perching there and imagining she was a bird, she remembered loving days when the sky was clear, strong blue the best. She remembered big strong brothers with laughter she had loved the sound of, she remembered knowing Dad would have her back on a hunt, she remembered riding in the back of the Impala with Sam beside her and how he'd fall asleep with his giant snoring face too close and how annoyed it made her. She remembered Dean glancing back and grinning at her disgruntlement. Alex would have given anything to be that version of herself again.
And then the memories of Cas came to haunt her. Those memories tormented her and terrorized her. It had once been so sweet, so innocent. He had been so trustworthy and she never, ever would have believed this could happen. They hadn't known what laid ahead. And now to put it all in perspective and see how it had all ended like this... Alex couldn't bear it. She began to lose her mind alone in that utterly silent house. She wondered if she had become a ghost, haunting this unfamiliar place in such sadness eternal.
Day seven? Nine? Twelve?
Cas reappeared without warning, startling and scaring her—his face was increasingly blemished by growing strange bursting blood vessels. He took hold of her, embracing her as if in tenderness, saying he had been furthering his ministry across the world and that he had missed her very dearly and thought of her with every new glory he brought into the world. She resisted his touch and mentally broken down, feeling like a far cry from who she had been once, she begged Cas once again for rescue, she begged him to break through again, to please be strong enough to rise above the monsters inside. And that was when the second personality came out, the one who called her 'Lex' and he chuckled at her distress and called her 'real cute,' pushing her around a little and playing on her fears of being taken advantage of, then disappeared again for several hours more.
When he returned, he was the chilling, quiet, calm personality that called her 'Alexandra' and he had a look in his eyes she knew was bad news immediately. He took hold of her from behind when he got there, dipping his head down to inhale against the side of her neck. Again, he commanded that she have sex with him, worship him and please him, and he touched her in attempts to convince her to his proposition. Alex refused again, panicked at his touch. His anger made the cabin rumble and shake, but he said nothing and let her go and disappeared. He returned a few hours later, saying he had something to show her. He took her to a house where a deaf and blind child lived. He said to watch as he performed a kindness and a miracle, as he showed her evidence of his benevolence. He healed the child—giving him sight and hearing—then turned to Alex and said he would do miracles like this in her name to earn her love and devotion. He then took Alex away from there to what felt like the highest mountain in the world. They were above clouds, and other mountain peaks dotted the sea-like vapor all around.
Again, he propositioned her, demanding she let him have her, saying she should be humbled and grateful that he wanted her in that way. She refused but that time, he did not relent. Instead, he fumed, saying she was a fool to deny herself the pleasures a God could provide and he seized her with hard hands and pushed her down to sit on a rock atop that mountain, saying he was going to show her the error of her ways. Panicked and trapped with no way to get away from him, Alex refused, trying to push him away and trying to get him to stop. He looked her dead in the eye and with no emotion, only dark and controlling foreboding, promised he would decimate all the local villages in the area if she did not comply. She was given a great and sickening conundrum. If she caved in, if she let him do whatever he was about to do, people would live. But if she gave in, he would also know all he had to do was threaten people's lives to get her to do whatever he wanted. She didn't want him to have that power. But she had no choice. He already did.
So Alex gave in and forced herself to allow him to do whatever he would. Cas knelt in front of her and pushed her knees apart, sliding the now off-white and torn-in-places dress up to bunch around her waist. And what he did next was what Cas had done many times, but it was not the same: He began to pleasure her with his mouth and she cried. "No…" she choked out softly at one point.
"Yes," he replied deeply. He was rougher and crueler than Cas had ever been. To get herself out of it all, Alex dug deep and faked an orgasm—the tears streaming down her face only added to effect. He seemed pleased with himself. He left her half laying on that rock and he stood above her, looking down on her with that cold smile on his face. For a minute, he just looked at her quivering in fear... enjoying her terror, it seemed. "Now you see my kindness and consideration," he finally said, then abruptly pulled her up and crushed her against himself, trailing fingertips down the side of her face in desire. "Let me have all of you for myself."
She couldn't. "N-no," she said weakly, knowing she really couldn't enforce her no. Tears streaked her face.
Cas's pleased expression twisted immediately to a seething, angered disbelief. "How can you refuse your God?!" he asked in a hard and dark voice. His fingers dug in so hard to her arms that she cried out miserable protest. She knew it was over. He was going to fuck her whether she agreed to it or not. And then, suddenly, he calmed and stepped away, becoming placid and unaffected. "We must rid the earth of more wickedness. Then you will love me."
Choking on alarm at the thought of him killing more people, she immediately protested. "No, please—the killing has to end!"
Her statement visibly angered him at a deep, cold level. "I will kill until every transgressor is blotted out of existence. And you shall not dare to stand in my way or tell me I am wrong."
Without another word, he left her there on that mountaintop and did not reappear for almost twenty-four hours, by which time she had climbed down the jagged formation almost half way. She was barefoot, cold to the point of almost freezing, she cut her feet, her arms, her legs, she almost fell to her death several times. She was half-starved, dirty, thirsty, and exhausted. She just wanted it to be over. But she was trying to get off that mountain and to a phone to call her Sammy. Try and get back to him somehow. But before she could get off that mountain, Cas reappeared and he whisked her off, back to what was clearly America. He was prideful and lofty, pleased, taking no notice of her poor condition. "I have obliterated all arachnids from the face of your country," he said, "And I have cured every existing mute person on the face of the earth in your name. Does this please you, my lovely one?"
Alex was truly surprised at his words—the spiders she cared nothing about, but he had cured every mute person in existence? If that were true, she was in awe and almost touched. But she was also injured, crippled, felt near death, and terrified of this person—this murderer—standing in front of her. "Y-yes," she replied to him, because she so greatly feared what he would make her do if she did anything besides stroke his ego. "T-thank you."
"Good." He held her to himself and touched her face, looking at her with fond fascination, and she already knew what he was going to demand. "Now," he murmured. "Make love to me." He began to kiss her neck, but they were not soft kisses. He hurt her, he left bruising and possessive marks with his teeth.
Alex could have cried from defeat. She had no fight left in her. "I'm… I'm too tired," she hedged. "I need rest. Please." Lies began to pour of her mouth in a desperate attempt to protect herself. "You're so patient and k-kind," she said, forcing herself to look him in the eye and look like she meant what she said. "That's what I… that's what I love about you." Her heart broke, because those were Cas's eyes but he wasn't there. And she hated this monster for taking everything from her, but what could she do? Nothing. Therein laid the defeat.
God—Destroyer—the monster—he smiled slowly, very satisfied with her words. He told her as much. "You please me greatly, Alexandra." She held her breath practically, hoping against hope he would have mercy and not force himself on her, at least not yet. She was given that relief when he smiled bigger, content. "I will give you some time. You do look worn."
She was worn. Starved, weak, tired, nerves shot to hell. But she didn't ask him for food, because she was afraid he would kill another restaurant full of people if she did. And as Cas's hand stroked her cheek, she wanted to die and didn't know how it could possibly go on like this. It couldn't go on like this. It was a waking nightmare. She knew of no way to kill him or stop his reign of terror. Maybe the best way would be to kill herself. But… couldn't he just bring her back? That thought was nauseating. She had to escape this. And her only thought was she just wanted to see her one remaining brother. She pictured Sam and wanted to run to his big strong familiar shape, she just wanted to let him hold her and she could go out of this world the way she had come in: beside him and with him.
Maybe Cas had been right, years ago, when they were first falling in love. He had tried to stop it before it ever started. He had tried to tell her. He had said angels and humans couldn't be together and he really seemed to believe it, yet he had proved unable to walk away—and Alex hadn't wanted him to, either. But now Alex almost wished she had. Because maybe it always ended in horror like this. A broken, used up human and an angel who couldn't be called that anymore. Any hope she felt for Castiel returning and conquering the souls that were puppeting him was fading. She mourned him every time she looked at him, and it broke her heart again each time to see that face she loved covered in profane red disease. It was physically manifesting, the corruption of these beasts inside of him. She chanced asking him about it after he insisted on destroying several movie studios in California for providing 'godless entertainment.' When he caught himself on the corner of a building to keep from falling, when she literally saw two new sores manifest on his cheekbone, Alex finally asked: "W-what's happening to you?"
He straightened, looked at her blankly with a ruddy red face. "What is it you mean?"
"Y-your face. Your hands." He looked at the back of his hand where small, puckered sores were dotting the once-healthy skin. He touched fingers to his cheek, frowning in confusion when his fingertips grazed rash-covered skin. And all Alex could think of was Cas, inside somewhere, suffering this hell along with her. "You're sick," she said, then her voice faltered as she imagined Castiel in agony somewhere inside of himself. "You're killing him."
At the mention of Cas, Destroyer bristled. "Why is it you insist on loving a mere shadow? I am he, the one who is worthy of love and devotion. Not Castiel. Not anyone else!" Angry, he ported them to a bathroom—perhaps a school or business bathroom, Alex didn't know—and he shoved her against a sink and who knows what he was about to do—and then he caught sight of himself in the mirror behind Alex and he stopped. He seemed surprised at the strange sores and bloody rash were spread across his cheeks. He backed away from Alex and covered his stomach with his own hands and frowned, then pulled his shirt open to look down at himself. What had once been smooth, tanned skin was covered in more of the same sores that marred his hands and face. And then, his stomach began to stretch as though someone were inside of him. Shapes of hands pushed against his skin, trying to get out, and Alex looked on in breathless horror. Cas looked up at her and his expression was shocked. "No…" he said, and for a second, she thought she saw Cas—he was horrified, his bright blue eyes were familiar again, and she was standing up, trying to get to him. And then he was suddenly Destroyer again and she shrank away, afraid of him and terrified for Cas. "There is work yet to be done," he said in a stiff monotone. "Come with your master and see his works of justice upon the face of the earth."
She didn't want to go with him. But that didn't matter. He took them to a bustling little campaign office decorated in red white and blue where a woman was walking away from them, speaking to a reporter. "Yes, that's exactly why I'm running again," she was saying pleasantly. "To save my constituents from the godless policies of my opponents. Couldn't have said it better myself."
Castiel made a beeline for this woman, but a young man dressed in business casual attire cut him off. "Sir? Can I help you?" The boy looked back at Alex, who was slack against a wall, knowing what was going to happen next. Concern and slight fear showed in his face at her disturbing appearance (the dress was dirty, torn, and bloodied). "Is… is she all right?" the aide asked, then addressed her directly. "Ma'am? Are you all right?"
"Pay no mind to the girl," Cas's voice growled. "I'm here to see the Senator."
The uncertain aide took a small step backward, eyes flickering between Cas and Alex nervously. "Um… regarding?"
"Abuse of power."
The aide faltered. He clearly got that something was way off about the entire situation. "Look, I… you both look sort of bad, can I call someone for you…? Or… or…" he trailed off.
And it was probably an exercise in futility, it was probably the last thing she'd ever do. But it just wasn't in her nature to keep standing by and letting this happen. At the point of hysterical inward lunacy, she made herself hold it together just a little longer. "You all have to run," Alex said, raising her voice high in panic as she stumbled toward the people and tried to put herself in Cas's path. "You have to run now!"
Angry, Cas turned a glare on her. "Be quiet."
He moved his hand and she was flung sidelong to crash into a banner that declared Leadership You Can Trust: Michelle Walker. Workers who had only been giving curious, cautious looks jumped to their feet at the telekinetic show of powers and the aide's eyes were wide and afraid as Castiel bore down on him. "Wait… wait, I've seen you two on the news," he choked out softly, and on the floor where she'd landed in a heap, Alex vaguely wondered if Sam had seen the news, too. Would this turn into a news story? She imagined it… woman in white dress found dead among political massacre. She almost hoped for that. Let it end. I can't do this anymore. But she thought of Sam alone and grieving and she couldn't bear that thought either…
"I am not petty," Cas was saying, addressing no one in particular. "I'm punishing a politician who causes poverty and despair in my name. I put your needs first. Don't you understand?" His voice was both foreboding and crazed. "All of you. I am a better God than my father. How can I make you understand?" He suddenly began to laugh manically, and Alex heard herself screaming for people to run again but it was too late. Cas set his sights on the first person who came into his field of vision… he clenched his fist and then opened it again and a woman in a business suit screamed as blood exploded out of her chest like she'd been ripped apart inside out—she fell over dead even as Cas set his sights onto a bald man in his forties and did the same.
No. No no no no. Alex had seen too much of this. With the last strength she possessed, she pushed herself up off the ground. The earth pitched and rolled underneath her feet, her vision swam, her head pounded, her stomach churned. But she made herself walk. And just as Cas turned to smite the aide he had been speaking with, Alex jumped in front of him. Now, she stood between the rest of the living (and crying and scared) people in that office and the new self-proclaimed God. The petrified aide cowered behind her. "Get out of the way, Alexandra," Destroyer warned, obviously intensely angry that she was trying to stop him.
Alex could think of only one way to save these people. One way. "Let these people leave and, and…" she swallowed, terrified down to her bones. Her voice dropped to a scared whisper, "and you can have me."
Surprise showed. He paused, considering, his rage softening into contemplative interest. And then contented, he smiled. His eyes slid to the aide, and then to the others behind him. "Because of my great mercy, you are free. Go. Sin no more, children." Everyone ran out of the building and the aide paused at the door, looking back at Alex and understanding she was essentially sacrificing for them. His eyes said a silent and wretched thank you before he ran.
The building was silent once more and empty save for the bodies of the two people Cas had killed. He was observing her with that chilling pleased look on his face and he walk-pushed her forward until she could go no further—the conference table was there. He made her sit with another push and Alex's heart was hammering a sickening race inside of her chest. Panic was making her throat tight. This was really going to happen. "Y-you have to bring back Dean and Bobby and promise never to touch anyone I love ever again first," she said, trying to be firm and sound non-negotiable about it. Trying to talk herself into letting this happen.
Cas seemed vaguely amused by her. "I do not have to do anything. But because it is your request… I will agree to your terms." His voice softened and deepened. "But only after I am satisfied." She shuddered in revulsion as he stoked the back of his hand down the side of her face. She didn't understand how she could be so revolted by the hand she loved the touch of before. She looked into those eyes and even though they belonged to Castiel, she saw no sign of him there. It's just sex. You've had sex with him before, so many times. Just lay back and take it, don't be such a fucking coward! She told herself this but it didn't change the fact that she did not want it and she was terrified out of her mind. This may have been Cas's body, but it wasn't him.
His fingers traced down the center of her chest, down her stomach, and he pushed her legs apart to stand between them. Her panic increased with every second and she could barely breathe at that point. "So unremarkable," he commented in fascination, looking at her face like she mystified him. "Yet we adore you. Want you." He took hold of both straps of her dress and gently pushed them downward to slip off her shoulders. "Why?"
She caught the front of that slip-like dress against herself on instinct, unwilling in every part of herself to follow through. "Cas—please—if you're in there…" she choked on a sob. "Help me."
A huge, crazy grin suddenly split his face and he tutted. "Ohhhh, Lex, help is such a silly word. Now…" his hands gripped her waist and stood her up against him. He breathed down on her and his eyes were dark. "Turn around."
He whirled her with violent and startling force, shoving her down face-first onto the table, bending her over in front of himself. He held her down and every alarm screamed in her mind as she fought to get away from the sudden crushing hold put on her. "Cas no—no! Stop stop stop!" she screamed, panic shrill and hot in her veins.
"Scream all you want, sweetie, we're not done here yet," he whispered beside her ear, bending over her and using his weight to squash her against the hard table. His hand was near her face, she saw a metal letter opener and she took hold of it and stabbed it down into his hand with all she was worth, so hard it went into the table too. The surprise of it gave her the briefest opportunity and she scrambled out from underneath him and promptly fell back onto all fours on the floor. Cas was standing up and looking half-pleased, half-displeased as he pulled the letter opener out of his hand. "Oh well now that wasn't nice," he said, languidly following her as she crawled away backwards and then found herself up against a desk and trapped again. Cas stood over her and openly chuckled at her nearly animalistic panic. "What is it they say about the thrill of the chase, again?" he asked, then swooped down and picked her up, throwing her to the opposite side of the room where she crashed down painfully on her back. "I don't know, but I'm getting tired of it, honeybuns!"
Protesting in pain, she tried to get away. But nothing worked, her body was spent, her back ached, and Cas was standing over her again. Thick black liquid ran out of his nose as he leered at her. "This better be pretty damn good, Lex, after how long you made us wait."
"No, please," she begged brokenly, softly, already knowing it didn't matter. And then he was on top of her, she was screaming and fighting and his hands were crushing tender skin, his knees were forcing her legs apart, he was biting her neck so hard blood was drawn—she heard his belt clinking and she was crying Cas's name and begging him please please please help me—but there was no one and nothing for her. She was again in the most horrifying place she could ever be in: underneath a man who was trying to take from her what she didn't want to give. Only this time, it was a god who was about to violate her, not a mortal man. With Glen, she had a fighting chance. With this being, she had zero. And still, she fought, protesting with cries and screams that ripped her throat hoarse. He was heavy on her, she couldn't breathe, even his smell was wrong—
And at the last possible moment, or it felt like that, he suddenly stopped. Cas backpedaled with incredible speed, falling over onto his elbows from the speed he did so. His belt was unbuckled, his shirt had unbunched out of his pants. His tie was crooked, his coat hung off one shoulder. He stared at her with wide, panicked eyes as she held shaking arms and hands in front of herself in a feeble, useless attempt at self-defense where she huddled on the ground. "Oh, Alex, no—" Cas said softly, voice breaking as he looked at her and then became aware of the blood on himself. "I—" His eyes were filling with tears of utter dismay. And her panicked heart squeezed in daring hope. "Did I… did I hurt…" he trailed off confused and disoriented and horrified.
Out of breath, hurt, scared, in tears, she stared at him through wavering vision, barely able to ask in out loud for fear of being wrong. "…Cas?"
But she wasn't wrong. It was him. He was looking her over and finding new horrors wherever his eyes went—the bruises, cuts, the dirty and bloody-stained dress, the trauma in her eyes, the way she hugged her arms over herself and looked at him with wretched mistrust. "Oh Alex, no—" he protested again weakly. "W-what have I done to you?" She could say nothing. She was in physical shock, traumatized at the deepest level, confused and anguished and past her breaking point. Cas staggered to his feet, panic and horror making him appear even more unsteady than he already was physically. "I have t-to get you away from me," he said, holding hands against himself unconsciously. "I have to get them out." He caught himself on the edge of the table behind himself, and when his hand came away, he'd burned the table with a mere touch. He stared at his palm, then wiped away the black trail of goo from underneath his nose. He sobered a great deal, seeming to realize something at that moment.
Petrified and still on the ground, Alex was too afraid that Cas was going to disappear any second. She had no strength left in her, physical or mental or emotional. "They'll come back," she said through tears, knowing it was just a matter of time before Cas was replaced by a murderous beast from Purgatory again. "They'll come back."
Seeing her utter brokenness, Cas's heart visibly went out to her and for a second, he forgot himself. "No, no they won't." He crouched by her with the intention to hold her and help her up, but he scared her with his sudden action and he caused her to flinch away—she cowered against the side of a desk, sitting there and looking at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Shock and self-loathing rested in his eyes. His features worked hard to conceal his own distress. "I-it's all right," he said, holding himself back from her and feeling great amounts of grief about why she was afraid of him. "T-they won't come back. I have them for now. But I… I have t-to put the souls back b-before they can get out for good. Before I'm… before I'm gone."
Alex's face twisted up in dismay and she heard how scared he was, how destroyed he was too. He hadn't meant for this to happen. She knew that much, and she forgot everything. Just saw the one she loved in front of herself. "Oh, Cas—" She reached out and grabbed his hand, which was rested on his own knee, and she held on for dear life, crying because now because he hadn't said it, but she knew. He was dying. And despite everything… despite being dragged around and abused, neglected, mistreated, molested, coerced… it hadn't been him that did those things. She clung to that fact and belief, but cried all the harder, because she loved him and it wasn't right for it to end like this. Her tears were making him cry again too and his fingers turned to lace through hers wretchedly, tightly. He hung onto her hand hard, looking like he wanted to bridge the gap between them but he didn't do so. He didn't touch her except to hold her hand. He just remained miserable and his tears were growing more and more pronounced. "I should have listened to you," he said, hanging his head. "I'm so ashamed." He groaned as if in pain and shut his eyes, then made himself refocus. "Can you, can you stand?" he asked, exerting himself to even speak at that point.
"I don't know," she answered honestly, watching him in pained fear. Was he going to die in front of her? Was he going to leave her at the hands of those monsters inside of himself?
As if he were reading her thoughts, he spoke to her fears. "I'm here. I won't let them touch you ever again." His free hand reached over and he laid it down onto her hand that was holding his other. With that touch, he healed every bruise, bite, scratch, and ache. The pain evaporated, even her all-consuming hunger and thirst disappeared. Her clothes were back—shoes, jeans, the t-shirt she'd been wearing. She wasn't sweaty and dirty anymore. Looking down at herself briefly, Alex's relief flooded her like a typhoon and she looked into those familiar crystal blue eyes. Cas. Sick, wretched, dying. Her Castiel, the one she had fought with and for, had loved beyond measure. And Alex suddenly moved to her knees and hugged the crouching angel hard around the neck hard, weeping bitterly for all that had happened to them both. His face turned inward to her neck and he abruptly broke down too, beginning to shake from tears, and she heard him sobbing—it was the worst sound she had ever heard in her entire life.
"The things I was doing," he managed. "What I let happen to you…" he gave another greatly agonized sob, and she could feel hot tears against her neck. His arms enveloped her carefully. His hands were tentative and guilty as they held her. "I'm so, so sorry—"
She held on tight as hell, thinking if she did, she could keep this Castiel here with her. Unlike him, she didn't hesitate to hold on tight. "Don't leave," she begged through tears of her own. "Please don't let them take you again!"
Cas shook his head and drew back. His bloody, rash-covered cheeks shone with tears. "Alex… I'm dying." Hearing him say it out loud killed her. The finality that rested in his expression, the agony at what he had done—it made it almost impossible for her to look at him or even function. "I-I don't have much time left," he said, wincing as if in pain. "We have to hurry."
"Where?" she asked, voice cracking.
"Back t-o… where we did the ritual," he said, and he tried to stand. He had trouble, and Alex, stronger than she had been before, was able to help him. She stood, guiding him with her, trying to do what she could with what she had been given. He was heavy, sagging badly, at death's door. "But first I n-need to… to resurrect Bobby and Dean," he said as they made it to their full heights.
Her heart leapt, twisted. "Can you?" she asked urgently. He could barely stand, how was he supposed to bring two people back from the dead?
His eyes, full of vast guilty pain, met hers. "I have to," he said, and his pain doubled as their gaze held. His voice faltered again as his brow twisted up into further agony. "Alex, I've failed you in every way possible," he lamented, barely able to speak past his emotions. "I'm so sorry. I can never make this right. I can never erase what I did to you. Your family. I am sorry."
Alex couldn't. Her emotions were impossible and the thought of losing Cas again was unbearable. "Come on, Cas," she said, standing next to him and helping him remain on his feet. If she let herself feel everything she was going through, she thought she wouldn't be able to stand either. She stowed all the confused emotions she had about him and what had happened. Instead, she tried to keep them both focused on the task at hand, not anything else. "Let's just get past this and then worry about the 'I'm sorries' then, okay?"
Cas looked at her, and in his eyes, there was a finality and acceptance—perhaps even a willingness to die. "I don't think there is a 'past this,'" he said softly, and she knew what he meant. In fact, she felt the same. "How can there be?"
Her chest and heart constricted and she thought of him standing across from her a spring day what felt like a lifetime ago and promising to love her until the end of his days. "I… I don't know," she answered in a voice made weak by sorrow.
How could two people love each other as much as they had and end up here? Broken, beaten, as good as dead? She would wonder this for a long, long time to come.