The entire world was collapsing.

The voices were louder, changing into the voices of his two closest friends. They were his only link to the world.

His nameless children vanished. His world was broken, and he was going insane.

In stead of the quiet pacifist who awoke from him the last time, he was indeed crazy. Or at least, he assumed he was.

It took him a long time to asimble the ingredients. Everything was coming together all at once and he was going to stop it.

He tried going back to his home, but it was gone, no trace of it ever existing. His entire Kansas town was reduced to a black spot on the map, the entire world falling apart.

It has to be you, he hissed inwardly.

It was always you.

Abbadon wasn't Abbadon. Meg wasn't Meg. Dean wasn't Dean.

He knew what it was now.

It was a game.

"Cas wake up damn it!" The voice that sounded like Dean hissed.\

"No, I have to do this."

"Cas…did you just-"

"I have to do this."

"I have to do this."

"I have to do this."

He held his old sword in his hands, the glinting silver dulled by rust and dirt. He had buried it away with Jimmy's coat and suit, keeping every bit of his past life behind him. Until now.

"It's finally here."

"I can go home."

"I want to go home."

"Castiel!"

He held the bowl in his hands, setting it on the trunk of the Impala before he dropped his match in, watching the herbs burst into flames, and listening to the sound of flapping wings.

"Metatron."

The last angel looked the same as ever, feigning surprise as he spun around to face Castiel. "Brother, you look…well."

"I look like stomped over shit, thanks to you."

Metatron shrugged. "We're all entitled to our opinions. Like the hair."

Castiel was fighting to hold back a snide smile. "I'm so glad you kept your essence, instead of ripping it out like you did mine."

"Someone had to stay behind, in case Father came home.

"And I see you actually did what you were told."

"They died, Metatron. All of them. My family, my wife. I don't even remember my children!"

"Who's he yelling at?"

"I don't know, but he's pissing me off!"

"Shut up!" Castiel hissed, then he turned back to Metatron, who was eyeing him with a confused look.

"Castiel," Metatron's voice softened. "If I knew forcing you into this would-"

"Would what? Make me crazy, Marv? Because I've been crazy for a very, very long time. Ever since Egypt, ever since the American Civil War, and ever since I pulled Dean from hell.

"And there's no way for me to redeem myself," he was seeing what he'd been waiting for in Metatron's vessel's eyes…fear. "Except for this."

"You can't kill me, Castiel," Metatron backed away, and for a split second Castiel feared his plan would be ruined. Until Metatron backed into the perfect spot.

"Why don't you stay?" The heat of the fire ring was satisfying, and the smell of burning oil reminded him of that night in Lucifer's hotel room.

"Cas, you know better than this."

"Now why would I kill you?" Castiel paced at the front of the flames, his sword close by his side. "I wanted you to see."

"See what?"

Castiel only smiled, insanity glinting in his human eyes, before flipping the blade around and plunging it into his chest. For a brief second he saw Metatron try and advance towards him, but then he saw nothing.

Relished nothing.

Tasted nothing.

Felt nothing.

Loved nothing.

"Cas!"

—

Air sucked in his lungs as Dean smacking him hard against the face again, screaming at the ex-angel to wake up. Everything came at him in an instant and everything left at the same time.

"Where…"

"Cas, you got attacked," Dean informed him, still kneeling down. "We thought we lost you."

"The gjin…"

"It tackled you, man. Luckily we killed it, but we left the cure back at the motel. Sam's dumb move."

"Hey," Sam growled a warning.

Dean sighed when he saw the freaked out look on Cas's face. "Look, man, no matter how good it seemed, it wasn't real. This is real."

"But it wasn't good, Dean," Castiel lay his head back on the floor, his eyes wide, almost impossible to close. "It was a nightmare."

"That was to keep you from waking up," Sam said as he helped Dean get Cas to his feet.

"Just forget it and move on, we need to go home."

"It was about Meg," he said suddenly, and he watched as Sama nd Dean's faces changed.

And then Dean grabbed one of his shoulders. "Look, I know how much you wanted it to be real, believe me. But Cas…It wasn't."

"I'm actually glad it wasn't," the ex-angel sighed. "You have no idea how horrible it was."

Dean frowned, claped Cas on the back. "Let's go home."