A/N: Oof. Sorry this is so short. I don't remember this chapter being so short. Oh well.
Ten
Brooke had not seen Castiel in days, and preferred it that way. While she knew that her Cass was still in there, somewhere, the Castiel that needed to defeat Raphael had been slowly taking over for months. And even after his tearful confession the other night, he had almost immediately gone back to being cold, and focused on destroying an Archangel—to the detriment of all others.
So, with Castiel gone off to figure out how to open the doors to Purgatory, and Brooke being ostracized from the Winchesters and Bobby, she'd been on her own for about a week, now. She had been on her own before—had given up Hunting and lived a normal life for five years, never speaking to her mother in all that time. But now, everything was different. Brooke had made a new family among the Winchesters, and Bobby, and Castiel, and now she was away from them all. Normally, she'd Hunt to keep herself busy, but Hunting seemed sort of pointless, what with everything else going on. Still, at least the monsters were back to normal now that Eve was dead.
He had come, once, to take her with him, somewhere. And she had refused. She wanted nothing more to do with him until the business with Raphael was over. Until he was him again. Castiel had stared at her as she'd said the words, and he had felt betrayed. First Sam and Dean, and now Brooke. He had not closed his mind from her, but had simply vanished, heartbroken.
Now, a week later, she sat in her car in the middle of nowhere, staring out the windshield but seeing nothing. Should she have kept Castiel's secrets for him? Should she have trusted him as blindly as she had? Probably not. But it was too late to go back now.
Her cellphone rang, and she almost ignored it, but she saw that it was Dean calling and could not. If Dean was calling her of his own free will, after what they had discovered about her, then it was important. She sighed, deeply, and answered the phone. "Yeah," she said, her voice flat.
"Brooke, I need to know. Are you with us, or with him?"
She stared out the windshield. "Right now? I'm neither. I'm… nothing."
"Well, make up your damn mind!" Dean shouted.
Brooke said nothing.
He gave her an address. "That's where Cass is opening to the doors to Purgatory," he said. "I'm telling you this because you have a right to know. And if you have a shred of decency left, you'll come help us stop him. You know this is wrong."
Brooke remained silent.
Dean waited, for a few moments, but eventually cursed into the phone and hung up.
Brooke slowly lowered the phone from her ear, and closed her eyes. What would it be? Castiel, or the Winchesters? Castiel, or Bobby? An angel… or the humans? Possibly all the humans, if this failed…
Brooke took a deep, shaky breath, and started the car.
###
Brooke arrived, apparently, at the same time as Sam. Sam, who was not with Dean and Bobby. Sam, who was standing beside… the upside-down Impala. Brooke practically flew out of her car and ran to Sam, who looked like he was having trouble standing upright. "Sam!" she called.
He turned to her, but did not seem to see her. He stumbled, and she caught him, pulling his arm up over her shoulder.
"Sam, what happened?" she asked.
"I—I dunno. I just got here. I—
He grunted, holding his head in his hands.
"What's wrong?" Brooke strained to keep the big man upright.
"Castiel didn't tell you?" Sam asked, as they both stumbled forward. "The wall—He brought down the wall…"
Brooke continued walking with Sam, supporting him as best she could, her mind scrambling. Castiel had brought the Hell Wall down in Sam's mind… How could he have done something like that? She glanced at Sam, surprised to see him even capable of walking.
Castiel had released the madness of Hell into Sam's mind, which could very well have killed him.
Castiel truly had gone dark side.
Brooke knew, then, that she was for the humans now. Not the insane angel hell-bent on absorbing half the souls in Purgatory.
###
YOU SAID IT PERFECTLY—
They were almost to the building when Brooke's head felt like it was going to explode. She fell to her knees and screamed, holding her head in her hands. His voice, his being, was loud and overwhelming. But it was… wrong.
BUT WHAT YOU NEEDED WAS THIS.
In the silence that followed, for just a few seconds, Brooke tried to pick herself up off the floor. Sam was dragging her, now, trying to reach the building.
Then the ground, the air, everything began to shake and Brooke screamed again, thrown back by the power that Castiel held within himself, tied to his Grace, his lifeblood. The Grace within her body was of the old Castiel, and did not match the new one, the one tainted with all the souls of Purgatory. Castiel had not taken half. He had taken them all.
Brooke felt him, but he was no longer himself.
Cass, she called out, half-terrified that he would simply obliterate her for speaking his name. She felt all forty-million souls turn to face her for a moment, and it was such a terrifying experience that she felt the grip on her sanity slip just a little.
Then the souls turned away again, focusing on the humans, and the demon, and the Archangel inside the building.
Sam had left her.
YOU CAN'T IMAGINE WHAT IT'S LIKE. THEY'RE ALL INSIDE ME—MILLIONS UPON MILLIONS OF SOULS.
NOW, WHAT'S THE MATTER, RAPHAEL? SOMEBODY CLIP YOUR WINGS?
THE DEMON I HAVE PLANS FOR. YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND…
Raphael was so small compared to the God that Castiel had become that Brooke could hardly feel it when he was wiped from the face of the Earth.
Brooke picked herself up off the floor, wiping at the blood coming from every orifice in her head. Being mentally linked to Castiel now, when he had become this thing, was too much, even for a human with the power to see angels and demons. She was dying.
SO, YOU SEE… I SAVED YOU.
Brooke crawled along the ground, reaching the door to the building.
YOU DOUBTED ME. FOUGHT AGAINST ME. BUT I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG.
Brooke made her way to the door that led down to where Castiel was. The closer she came to him, the more blood poured out of her face. She did not know how she was still alive. The Grace in her body was at its peak, barely able to hold her body together.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
OH, NO. THEY BELONG WITH ME.
NO, I'M NOT FINISHED YET. RAPHAEL HAD MANY FOLLOWERS, AND I MUST… PUNISH THEM ALL, SEVERELY.
Brooke was sobbing, crawling down the stairs, praying to every God in existence that Castiel would listen to her if only he could see her. See what he was doing to her. She missed a step, going down on her hands and knees, and tumbled painfully down the rest of them, landing in a heap at the bottom, groaning in pain.
YOU'RE JUST SAYING THAT BECAUSE I WON. BECAUSE YOU'RE AFRAID. YOU'RE NOT MY FAMILY DEAN. I HAVE NO FAMILY.
No family? Brooke thought, weakly, barely conscious. Who am I?
I'M GLAD YOU MADE IT, SAM. BUT THE ANGEL BLADE WON'T WORK, BECAUSE I'M NOT AN ANGEL ANYMORE. I'M YOUR NEW GOD. A BETTER ONE. SO YOU WILL BOW DOWN AND PROFESS YOUR LOVE UNTO ME, YOUR LORD…
OR I SHALL DESTROY YOU.
###
Brooke awoke only a moment later, Castiel's Voice piercing her mind, making it impossible to remain unconscious. She woke to pain and began to cry again, but crawled along the ground towards him.
Voices sounded around her, but all she heard was his, and it was his voice that was killing her.
Finally, she arrived at his feet, and reached out, to pull, pathetically, at his pant leg. Even touching the clothes on his body caused her entire being to burn white-hot. She screamed, a long piercing sound, ragged and terrible.
Finally, Castiel truly noticed her, and he bent down and lifted her up. He had done something to her in that moment, making it possible for her to see him, to be touched by him, and not die. He had healed her brain, her eyes, her ears, her mouth. There was no more blood pouring from her face.
"You, the woman who loved me, above all else," he said, staring at her. And his voice was once again quiet and able to be withstood. He had blocked her from his mind, though not completely. Touching him, she could feel millions upon millions of souls swimming around inside him, and they brushed against her mind and caused her to go nearly insane, but she clung to Castiel—to his memory—as a lifeline.
"Now you fear me just as the others do," he murmured, smiling at her unkindly. "I had such high hopes for you, my most devout pupil."
"Castiel," she whispered, the word barely able to leave her.
"No," he replied. "I am no longer Castiel. I am God."
"No," she murmured. "You are… Castiel."
White-hot rage set her on fire again, and she screamed until her throat was raw.
"I am God," Castiel repeated, holding her arms tightly.
Brooke could see nothing. Her vision had gone first white, and then dark. "Castiel," she whispered, for it was all she could think to say. "Castiel… Castiel…"
The creature who had once been Castiel tossed her aside and she hit the floor, hard. No longer able to speak, and still blind, she thought, in her mind: Castiel… come back to me. Come back. Please…
And then he left, and suddenly she could see again. But she closed her eyes, choosing, instead, the darkness, and cried.