"Shit shit shit!"
"Where….at?"
"I'm…here!"
Over and over he heard the voices, it seemed as time went on they became worse and worse. Sometimes he could hear them completely and mostly they were fragments he heard from time to time.
Most days he could banish them to the depths of his mind but other times they were too loud to ignore.
Which was why they woke him one morning, sending him flying up from his bed, gasping.
In the corner of his eye he saw Meg stir beside him, and after a while he felt his heart rate return to normal.
"Nightmare?" she asked him, not even bothering to roll over and face him.
"Yes."
"I'm gettin' real tired of it, Cas," she murmured, burring her face in her pillow. "fourteen years, Cas."
"I know. I'm sorry."
He assumed the voices would go away. It had been fifteen years since the fall, and he assumed any neurosis would be gone.
But he was still plagued with it, still haunted and still wanted to end it all.
Meg helped a lot, as did their children. His oldest would be starting high school soon, and his son was growing taller every day.
Children, an angel and demon had children.
Of course their offspring were human in every way possible, and he was proud of them. They would get to live normal, human lives, and they deserved it.
But they'll never know what true blood they have in their veins.
"We need to go soon," Meg mumbled from her side of the bed, slowly pulling herself from the sheets to eye her husband. Castiel had changed a lot over the last few years; he was thinner, his eyes were heavier, and his brown hair was starting to grey. Meg had to admit she liked it, but it reminded her how her vessel was aging as well.
And they we're gonna die. How stupid is that?
"Sam and Dean can wait," he muttered, pressing his lips to her neck. There were times he wished that Sam and Dean wouldn't call them anymore; back then they lived with them, Cas had said to call him anytime they need him or Meg. But now they were in their own home, with their own children, and there was always something they needed to do.
"He'll kill you."
"He's not the first."
Meg chuckled and rolled over to meet his face, accepting his kisses until their alarm blared again.
"I'll check on the children."
"Good boy."
—
Castiel, perhaps like most stay at home parents, worried about his children. Especially when he watched them leave for school.
He sighed. It was strange, how he rarely thought about Heaven anymore.
I'm happy. I deserve to be happy.
"Ready?" Meg asked as she grabbed their duffle off the dinning room table, tearing Cas's attention from the window.
"Yes."
—
"Alright,m so we figured out where Abbadon is, now all we gotta do is gank her ass," Dean's voice had deepen even more as the years passed. He started looking older, looking like a man who'd indeed been to hell and back.
Sam was more the same; he had cut his hair slightly shorter and he was wearing it in a ponytail. His eyes were sadder, but he seemed to be doing better than he had in years.
"Are you sure taking down the queen is such a good idea?" Meg asked as she sat down around the Letter's table. "I know Abbadon, she wont back down."
"She's our last shot," Dean said, his voice void of emotion.
"So you're doing the last trial."
"We either get rid of the last big player, or we shut it down."
"This plan smells wonderful. How do you think we're gonna get her to submit?"
"Easy," Sam said. "We summon her."
—
Castiel didn't like this at all. Abbadon was strong, probably stronger than Crowley. And it felt weird looking at a demon with no hands.
They had burned them, tortured her, and now Abbadon was receiving the injections.
It was going too smoothly and Castiel felt a strange chill roll down his back.
They had finished the injection when she begun to laugh.
"You boys are stupid," she hissed as Sam backed away from her, and when she closed her eyes he could have sworn he felt her power surge all around him.
"We should stop," Castiel said quietly, backing away from the demon.
"No, we've come this far."
"Dean, Cas is right, we're-"
Meg's words were drowned to a gasp as Abbadon's eyes burned black, the entire church shaking under their feet as the demon laughed louder.
"Like I need hands to kill all of you."
Fire erupted and Castiel felt a hard piece of wood smack him hard in the back, and then nothing.
—
"Cas…"
"Cas!"
"Castiel!"
The voices woke him again. The church was silent, except for a few chirping crickets and the sound of splitting wood.
Where?
His eyes opened to chaos. The entire church was in ruins, from the corner of his eye he could see a body -Dean's, he presumed- ripped in half and chained to the chair. Sam was floating out from the small lake just outside the ruins of the building, but Meg was no where in sight.
He struggled to get up, feeling several ribs and his arm broken, and frantically scavenged for his wife.
He tried calling out her name; but all his voice could cry out was a dry whisper.
And then he saw her, skin blackened and peeling from her bone. She seemed smaller now, broken. Human.
"Meg…" he rasped out, putting his hand to her blackened hair, only to have to crumble in his hands.
This was how it always seemed to be, he thought. He would find something, hold onto is for dear life, and have it ripped from him. Except those voices…
He was on his knees and weeping now, in the midst of some stupid hunt that went wrong, the sole survivor of chaos.
His best friends were dead. His wife was charred rubble. He didn't even remember the names of his children. The only thing that seemed to replace his grief was anger.
"Cas…source…"
"Yes," he whispered to his voices. "To the source."
Fifteen years had gone by since they last attempted to close the gates of hell. Since the Fall.
Go to the source.
If he couldn't close Hell.
He was going to close everything.