The Mind Fuck. (3/5)

[amoama]

THREE: The Autumn Moon Lights My Way.

Cas is a bloody mess. He can’t hear what Raphael is saying, even though it’s more like screaming. All he hears is Led Zeppelin. He concentrates hard on remembering the words perfectly, pulling them from the recess of his mind. He couldn’t have known when Dean played this song the first time that this is what he would cling to but somehow it is. He wonders how often Dean has used it to keep himself sane.

The room he’s in is dark. The odd candle here and there lights certain instruments on a long table up against one wall. It feels damp like a cave and looks like it has been used for torture for centuries. Castiel sees how it would appeal to Raphael’s sense of gravitas, steeped in history and experience, however sordid and evil. He was never the archangel with the greatest imagination. (One of the reasons why Zachariah was always so useful.) Raphael probably hates this. His righteousness must revolt just being here and yet, Cas knows, this is why he’s chosen it. Raphael sees it as one more way to cause Cas suffering. Pain is inevitable in this setting.

Cas closes his eyes, reaches for the words.

Leaves are falling all around, It's time I was on my way.
Cas isn’t falling. Instead he gets hoisted up by his feet, hung upside down.
Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay.
The lashes of the whips sting his skin. His back hurts beyond belief and he thinks at least seven pints of blood must be racing round his head.

But now it's time for me to go. The autumn moon lights my way.
Someone plays with a silver knife, making small cuts down his arms. It stings as the knife starts at his ankle and traces down the side of his leg, over his hip, jutting further into his side, stopping finally at his armpit, his arms dangling below almost to the floor.
For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it's headed my way.
The knife pushes in deeper and Cas cries out to the Heavens. He barely notices he’s doing it.
Sometimes I grow so tired, but I know I've got one thing I got to do...
His hands touch the floor beneath him and he feels his own blood pooling around them.
He wants to die. A thousand times he wishes it.
Ramble On, And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song.
He wants to free himself even though he knows it’s impossible.

He forces himself to continue the song.
I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl, on my way.
I've been this way ten years to the day, Ramble On,
Gotta find the queen of all my dreams.

He doesn’t understand the words anymore but he knows he shouldn’t stop.

Got no time for spreadin' roots, The time has come to be gone.
They lower him onto a rack and beat at the soles of his feet with a club. He feels small bones and tendons in his feet breaking.
And to our health we drank a thousand times, it's time to Ramble On.
He wonders if they will heal him or if he will have to do it himself. He wonders if he can.

Mine's a tale that can't be told, my freedom I hold dear.
He tries to hear Dean’s voice tunelessly yell-singing the anthem but he can’t get it. He is most frightened by the sound of his own voice howling in agony. Already it is out of his control.
How years ago in days of old, when magic filled the air.
The blood runs into his eyes, and runs up his nose into his skull. His brain feels like it is swimming in blood, all he tastes is blood.
T'was in the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair.
The beatings, like the words, seem random to him, catching his ear, his eyes, the back of his head, his jaw, his lips, his nose.
But Gollum, and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her.
Briefly he feels sorry for Jimmy, even though he is long gone, his body doesn’t deserve this treatment.

Gonna ramble on, sing my song. Gotta keep-a-searchin' for my baby.
He flutters in and out of consciousness. What was it Dean was searching for?
Gonna work my way, round the world.
Dean could never stop. Not really. It makes Cas sad.
I can't stop this feelin' in my heart.
Cas feels his heart beat fast, blood pounding. He’s not in control of this body anymore.
Gotta keep searchin' for my baby. I can't find my bluebird!
Cas doesn’t know anyone with a bluebird but he’s not surprised he can’t find one, nothing good could survive down here.

Ramble on.
This angel will sleep he thinks bitterly.

*

He wakes up on the rack. Raphael looking down again on his broken, bloody body.

*

“Ready to talk Castiel?" Raphael doesn’t wait for an answer.

"I have so many questions for you. Why have you forgotten God’s path? Why have you chosen man over your brethren? You have forced me to this. Must I really show you how the angels feel?

“I have not touched a bone on your body, Castiel, not an ounce of your flesh. Your brothers do this to you. They are not convinced. They see that you choose this and they do not respect you, they are not persuaded. You are a fool and they know it. The monkeys have duped you. You are not a messiah. No angel sees glory or victory in your actions. What is it that you wish to teach them, to prove to them? You are so much younger than us and yet you think you know better?”

Castiel hears his taunts and knows that Raphael’s voice is reverberating around Heaven. He wonders which of his brothers and sisters cut into him, which beat him, he can guess – Raphael has his henchmen after all, but he is still sickened by the thought. Angels killing each other. Civil war in Heaven. It all hurts so much.

Raphael’s confidence grows and grows the longer he speaks. He convinces himself with the sound of his own voice. Dick. Castiel keeps his smile to himself. It might still work he thinks. The angels are intelligent and they respect sacrifice and here is Raphael doing his PR for him. Just stay put he thinks; stay alive. Far easier said than done.

*

“Castiel,” Raphael draws out the ‘el’ in Cas’s name, Cas braces for the taunts, “This is what human beings do to each other all the time. All these methods of torture being used on you. We learnt them from humans. They do worse to each other. We could violate you in so many ways. You already wish you were dead. Castiel, what are you fighting for? Why is free will better if this is what comes of it? Humans are killing each other, maiming each other’s lives, they’re miserable. Even your Winchester boy – he’s miserable. They need to be saved Castiel, they need to be rescued. Heaven is on offer here. Why are you denying them?”

Castiel hurts too much to think of an answer.

Instead he reaches out with his mind - far away from wherever ‘here’ is.

PART FOUR HERE