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To stop. That's all you want. An end to this. To him. His voice, his words, Father, even his presence is to much. You clasp your hands over your ears and close your eyes as you watch Angels die over. And over. And over. AND OVER. You feel yourself shaking, SHAKING. You the great Castiel, losing your mind, although at the moment you're to out of it to register that fact.
"Had enough?" He purrs in your ear. You resolutely refuse to answer. "Fine. I've got aaaaalll the time in the world little brother, besides this beats hanging around with Michael. It's always the same with him," Lucifer drawls on like a petulant teenager,"death threats, glaring, and occasionally making him watch while I have a little fun with the spare Winchester." He pauses and you can feel his gaze on you.
"But now I have you. Sweet, obedient, stupid little Castiel," he says almost gleefully. You feel dread pool in your stomach. "Well, maybe not obedient. Not anymore anyways, look what you did to heaven! I mean, wow, I didn't think you had it in you. But you did it. You slaughtered thousands of our brethren Castiel, you threw heaven and Earth into chaos and ooooh," he shivered," it gives me chills to imagine the mess you left in your wake. Bravo brother, bravo." He begins to clap slowly as each word swarms your addled brain and the endless images of dying Angels. And maybe that's what really sends you over the edge. The clapping. That this being, the incarnate of evil and corruption is applauding your actions. The slaughtering of your family. He's applauding the blood on your hands. Maybe that's what sends you over the edge, who knows? All that matters is that you go over.
You scream. It starts as curses and quickly becomes pleas. For help. For quiet. For forgiveness. You go on for Father knows how long, and keep going even after hearing the door to your room slam open. Even after you feel hands over yours which have wound themselves in your vessel's hair. Even after Dean starts pleading with you to open your eyes.
"Cas! Cas stop, please! Whatever you're seeing it's not real! I promise!" He shouts while shaking you slightly. Finally you pry your eyes open. The world around you is distorted and wrong and horrifying. Eyeless vessels of nameless Angels everywhere and Lucifer smiling at you over Dean's shoulder. Before you have a chance to react to them fully Dean has seized your face and is forcing you to look at him. How can you though? How can you, a disgraceful and shattered excuse for an Angel, meet the gaze of the Righteous Man?
Finally you can no longer resist his pleading and coaxing. You find yourself looking into heartbroken green eyes.
"Cas..." He whispers, at a loss for words upon seeing your mental state. A stab of pain rips through your chest at the sight of his worry. You can't seem to do anything right when it comes to him and now here you are worrying him.
"Oh that's cute," Lucifer said in an almost giddy time. "You think he actually cares about you! Jeez, I thought you were smart Castiel! He just doesn't want you to do anything to compromise yourself in case they need your, what do they call it? Mojo?"
"No," you breathe," that's not true." You protest weakly. Dean shoots a look behind him, towards where you see Lucifer.
"Cas, he's not real, he's not there, and whatever he's saying is a lie. C'mon man, you gotta know that! I'm real Cas, I'm here," Dean says emphatically, trying to catch your eye again. You see Lucifer smirk and roll his eyes again before snapping his finders, causing the screams of your dying family to sound deafeningly in your ears and drown out Dean. You clap your hands over your ears, to no avail, as a broken noise falls from your lips. Your heart feels like it's twisting in your chest. You've never felt so human in your life, so vulnerable, so alone.
So scared.
And then there are arms around you. Lips against your ear. Breath on your skin. His scent fills your nose, and soon your hands are clutching his clothes desperately. Holding onto him for dear life, being held together by his arms. You still can't hear the words you can feel him murmuring to you but it doesn't matter.
Because you can feel him. He is real. He is solid. Right now, Dean Winchester is your anchor. He is all you need, he is the only thing that could even begin to alleviate the excruciating pain and terror that have taken over your entire being.
Finally, the screams die down and it seems Lucifer has withdrawn, but neither of you let go. Dean holds you as you tremble. Finally you find your voice.
"Please don't leave me alone with him," you whimper. "Dean please. I don't think I can do this."
"You won't be alone Cas," Dean replies in a soft voice. "Meg will take care of you and Sam and I will check in when we can, I promise." You burrow your forehead further into his shoulder and begin to shake your head furiously.
"No, no, no," you moan, gripping him as tightly as possible. "I want you, please, please, please." You can feel the hysteria rising inside. "I'm scared," you nearly sob. He rocks you gently and says nothing.
"I'll stay for as long as I can," he bargains. You know that that's no guarantee. But you'll take what you can get. For now you'll relish the silence, the feeling of comfort, the feeling of being completely cocooned in Dean's arms. And you force yourself into unconsciousness, the closest thing to sleep Angels can manage.
When you wake....
He's not there.