The Mind Fuck (1/5)

[amoama]

The Mind Fuck

“Baby, Since I've Been Loving You, I'm about to lose, I'm about lose to my worried mind.”
(Led Zeppelin, “Since I’ve Been Loving You”)

“Out of one dream, another dream is born:

-Are you well? I mean, are you alive?

-How did you know I was just this moment laying my head on your knee to sleep?

-Because you woke me up when you stirred in my belly. I knew then I was your coffin. Are you alive? Can you hear me?

-Does it happen much, that you are awakened from one dream by another, itself the interpretation of the dream?

-Here it is, happening to you and to me. Are you alive?

-Almost

-And have the devils cast their spell on you?

-I don’t know, but in time there’s room for death.

-Don’t die completely.

-I’ll try not to.

-Don’t die at all.

-I’ll try not to.”

(Mahmoud Darwish, “Memory for Forgetfulness”)

When is that last moment before a car crash when you can swerve and miss, or is it that you hardly slept the night before and so the crash was already inevitable?

In the map of a marriage where does the divorcee track their mistakes back to? What instant in the road of tiny choices led to the day when you finally admit that there are imposters in your marriage, people you don’t know and find it hard to love? Is one of them you?

Perchance you were never married and don’t sleep? Were never in a relationship even? Perhaps there was always something more urgent, more ‘life and death’ on the horizon holding you hostage so that you never acknowledged the one thing keeping you going.

And if you are an angel while he is a man and the reasons for being around him just got locked in hell for eternity while he moved on with another family? What about if Heaven descends into civil war and you stand against a tide so strong all you can do is take a deep breath and hope you can suck in enough air to survive it?

Cas stands in the rain watching Dean inside a diner, leaning on the counter to pay, talking casually with the cashier, clutching his pie. Some things don’t change, like Cas watching Dean and Dean liking pie; so Cas wonders what could have been done differently, what other map could he have followed? Could he have mapped Dean himself more carefully, more extensively? If he had chosen to, he could have leaned over any table in any of those thousands of diners and told him, “Dean, I like you as much as you like pie.” But somehow he never thought of the right words and anyway - was he not saying it just as well with every sacrifice he had ever made? So he watches in the rain, heart pounding in his chest, thinking could I have swerved? Because now the car is crashing and Cas doesn’t know how to get clear of the road. And what is more, he doesn’t know if he was supposed to.


ONE: Now I Smell the Rain


Castiel faces Raphael across the plane. Half of existence and worlds of experience lie between them – they’re so far apart they can barely conceive of each other, even as their eyes meet.

They are both colossal beings. Raphael is all fire and scorching heat. His wings beat down incessantly making the air thunder with his presence. One of his heads is a panther and his narrow eyes glare at Castiel with loathing and vitriol. He is drooling openly in anticipation of what is to come.

Castiel watches him, his face awash with bright, searing blue light. He knows now what he has to do, how to win.

So far this has been a war of attrition. Castiel has fought and fought to keep his humanity, and that has meant holding back, even with his enemies. He has not wanted to kill angels. His fight has been to win them over, to persuade, to hold faith. For every angel he has won over, Raphael has killed at least five. Raphael has been merciless and this is what the host of heaven understands. Millennia with a vengeful Father have not been forgotten and too many angels view Raphael’s actions as a signal that God has His mojo back; that at last He is ready to get angry again with His petty humans; that the time of forgiveness is over. Castiel has fought them, blow for blow; arguing, persuading, even as he parries their strikes. This is not God’s will, it is not freely chosen. This is Raphael, playing for power, tipping the balance. There is no God in his greed. Castiel would like to think the angels should know better. He’d like to be angry at them. But he knows that he did not know much better either. That he may never have known better, if he had not ventured into Hell and gripped tightly to the soul of a righteous man. So he continues to spare his fellow angels, his enemies that have not been able to understand humanity, as he has come to, and it has cost him dearly in this war.

Now though he is ready.

He is unsure if he can accomplish what he needs to, if he can withstand Raphael for long enough, but he feels relief at having reached this point. He won’t need to send others into battle any longer. He can fight alone for this victory.

He looks over his shoulder at Balthazar, reminded that he is not alone quite yet. Balthazar looks back at him with anguish. Castiel knows he is praying and that he hates himself for it, that he blames Cas for pulling him back into this war and resents him for leaving him out of the solution. They have talked about it for weeks now, wrestling back and forth, strategising and preparing, Balthazar protesting every stage, begging Castiel to reconsider. Perhaps they have been preparing for centuries. Perhaps this is why they exist. Castiel knows this is why he was brought back. God knew that stopping the apocalypse would not be enough. Not for the angels. Not until they accept their freedom. This is Castiel’s last attempt - his most desperate. This is the one that will work.

Yet even now, with Raphael a breath away, Balthazar is imploring him to rethink; his shimmering presence is keening towards Castiel, heartbreak written in every line. Castiel has never seen an angel look so human and it’s strange because Balthazar makes such a crappy human. He doesn’t seem to notice but there are tears falling from all six of his eyes, his three faces all pictures of perfect horror. Castiel looks at him calmly and blesses his friend in the holy language. He reaches out an arm to grip his hand briefly. “Watch out for him, won’t you?” He asks. It hurts to talk now about Dean, and Castiel sees how it offends Balthazar. But he can’t not ask, not elicit the promise one final time.

At some point Cas realises, Dean lost track of the big picture. Cas thinks he understands it. The big picture cost Dean so much. It cost him Sam – and Sam’s soul. Cas thinks that stopping the apocalypse was the end for Dean. Now all Dean sees is what’s right in front of him, his brother, his grandfather, Eve, the next case. Cas wants it that way. Why should Dean have to deal with heaven’s problems? Angels are ageless and full of eternal grace – why would they look to two boys from Lawrence, Kansas for answers? But Cas wants to be faithful to the truth Dean showed him. He stayed away because he knew Dean was done but he always knew the work wasn’t. Not with Raphael still wielding so much power.

Castiel and Balthazar have discussed it endlessly: how to keep the Winchesters safe, how to protect them from Raphael so they cannot be used against Castiel. It is perhaps the most important part of their strategising because Castiel knows he could not withstand it. He knows that if they are threatened he will do anything, anything, to save them. He has already done the unthinkable. Fallen, become graceless. There is nothing he won’t do. Even now, even though he feels further from Dean than ever before. Castiel cannot trust himself with this. He’d rather die than let his friends down. So he must trust Balthazar. Raphael will lie, he will tell me he has them, he will tempt me to fail. I must trust that this has not happened. If it does, we may lose everything. Balthazar has promised over and over. They have redoubled the strength of the sigils and cast protective rites over the Impala and Bobby’s house and every motel in the Midwest just to be safe. Castiel even went to Lisa’s late one night and said the rites there. The Winchesters are well protected Cas knows and yet he still asks, finally, “Watch out for him, won’t you?” And he doesn’t mean ‘them’ this time, he means Dean, his Dean, and he doesn’t just mean his safety, he means his soul. Balthazar bows one head in acquiescence and winks three left eyes gently. In doing so he blesses Castiel in return.

Castiel turns back to face Raphael, eyes glistening. He allows himself to feel his grace flowing freely through his entire being. Slowly he begins to pulsate with the strength of it, the vibrations of light make him a blur in the eyes of his brothers. For one long moment he dwells purely in his grace and feels calm faith seal over his heart until, with an unearthly sigh he shudders and shrivels into his human form, cramming as much grace as he can muster into the body of Jimmy Novak which is waiting unconsciously in some far corner of an abandoned warehouse.

*

Slowly Castiel opens his human eyes; his vision is so dull he again feels the loss of light like a bereavement. He tilts his head and stretches his neck upwards stiffly. He has not been so used to this body lately but its familiarity is already beginning to comfort him. This body has been through a lot, has survived a lot. It feels like a friend. Cas. It makes him recognisable, beloved by the human beings he loves. It may have exploded the odd time or two but he trusts it. He remembers the weight of it, how the hands, arms, legs, move exactly as he intends them to. He likes to shrug into it as Jimmy pulled on the comforting familiarity of the trench coat he still wears. Cas is grateful for it.

He finally notices that Raphael has joined him in human form and is waiting for him. Castiel holds his hands out in front of him, palms turned upwards in submission and walks towards him. Raphael looks at him with vicious contempt. There is no victory in his eyes, he is not yet sure, but Castiel can sense his excitement, his hope that this is the turning point and that Castiel is signing his own death warrant. They both know the score, they know that the battle will be a battle of their wills. Cas is reminded of Sam when he said Yes to the Devil, knowing that Lucifer knew about the rings, knowing that it would just be Sam and Lucifer fighting it out in his head. Castiel takes heart from the thought - Sam’s humanity had won out against Lucifer’s inhuman strength. He must find the same strength, the same humanity.

Raphael quickly binds Castiel’s hands with heavy chains that he solders together with one bare hand. Castiel lets him. He is silent while Raphael murmurs heavy words that bind his Grace into this body. There will be no escape to heaven now, no blessed relief. The chains Raphael has used are old, as old as the Fall, and they are unbreakable. They are the same chains used to bind angels in Hell. He lets Raphael blindfold him with his own tie. Castiel feels small and foolish for submitting to this. Most likely the angels will forget about him and all this will be for nothing, but maybe, just maybe, if he holds out long enough, if he keeps his faith and his humanity in the face of Raphael’s corrupt cruelty, Raphael will be the one who crumples, the one who falls.

Everything Raphael has done in this war has been to force Castiel’s submission. Castiel knows Raphael is stronger. All the angels know it. At any time he could kill Castiel, force him onto bended knee. But he cannot make him say the words. Castiel will never say that Raphael should rule in Heaven, or that he was wrong to help stop the apocalypse.

They both know that killing Castiel is a risk. Twice now he’s been killed, once by Raphael himself, and once by the devil. Raphael cannot risk him being brought back a third time. It would be irrefutable proof that God’s will favoured Castiel -although personally Cas thinks twice was enough to prove that particular point. Raphael is walking a thin line seeking to subjugate Castiel without being able to put him down for good.

Cas has been dodging him for months now, avoiding giving Raphael the opportunity to use his strength against him, but it is costing him dearly, the Host whisper that Castiel is too weak to face Raphael; that he would yield the second they meet. So Cas has chosen this final play: to expose himself to Raphael’s might and show the angels that they need not submit to strength for its own sake. It’s dangerous and perhaps he’ll die and not come back this time. Cas doesn’t know anything for sure anymore but his final act of faith in his long absent father has to be believing he was brought back for a reason; so he goes to face Raphael and he feels the metal bind his hands and he waits for what is to come.

*

He is in a damp cellar in complete darkness. The tie is still around his eyes but he can tell it is utterly black in his prison. The cell is small. Cas can’t stand up. He has to sit with his knees next to his chest just to fit. He can hear scurrying but doesn’t know what kinds of creatures are keeping him company. His hands are still chained together. Water comes down from a chute above his head; he can feel the small pipe next to his left ear. It has been dripping since he got here but now it gushes and the water is cold and heavy and dirty. It settles around his feet and bottom and seeps into his clothing. He tries not to think about how uncomfortable he is. How he has only been here a few hours and already his whole body is screaming at him to shift positions. His knees are up against a grate of bars and from the sound of it when he was shoved in here there is a heavy stone door behind the grate. Cas leans his head back and tries to stop thinking about it.

*

No one knows where I am, he thinks. He remembers his earnest conversations with Balthazar. Don’t tell him where I am. Don’t let Dean know what’s happening. He may try to rescue me and walk right into Raphael’s hands. Don’t tell him Balthazar. I don’t want him to know where I am. But Cas doesn’t know where he is and he doubts Balthazar does either. Somewhere on earth he thinks. Somewhere in time. And the loneliness is excruciating.

*

Cas opens his eyes to the darkness and feels his exile like a physical pain. He is conserving his saliva and trying not to swallow and so exile tastes dry and sharp on his chapped lips. Now he knows loneliness, knows that it feels like hitting his head back against the stones behind because he can’t get the emptiness out of his head. That it is there when blood trickles down his neck, prickling and sticky and beyond the reach of his bound hands. Loneliness is his heart beating futilely in his breast when that which can comfort it is so unreachable. He thinks about Dean and how he would comfort him and Cas knows Dean wouldn’t need to do anything special, that he would just show up and go along with whatever Dean was doing, eating in a diner, playing pool, driving in the Impala. We would just keep each other company, Cas thinks, and then he starts to hum slowly,

Babe, baby, baby, I'm gonna leave you
I said baby, you know I'm gonna leave you
I'll leave you when the summertime
Leave you when the summer comes a-rollin'
Leave you when the summer comes along.

Cas smiles to himself, hearing Dean’s voice soaring loudly along with the cassette player, and he pictures himself half-human, half-asleep in the back seat of the car, wind on his face, eyes closed, Dean’s enthusiastic voice surrounding him. And Cas sings to himself as though it is goodbye, baby I’m gonna leave you, you know I’m gonna leave you.

It feels so long ago. Another lifetime. Even before he came to this prison the days sitting in the Impala with Dean, working cases, chatting shit, were long gone. Dean would say it was the time before Sam went to hell because that’s how Dean measures time. Cas would say it was before the most significant event in history failed to happen, before he was left with the clean up, the problem of what happens when the pre-destined fate of the world doesn’t come to pass.

He’d be so pleased Cas thinks, he converted me to his music, and he sees Dean smiling at him and he smiles back. For a second he is miles from his prison cell and he sings determinedly for as long as he can, sheer will power focusing on convincing himself he is on a long car journey - not trapped in this hell.

*

A week later and he’s desperate for Raphael to come and deal out some pain. Anything that lets him move. His muscles seized for 3 days solidly and now they ache with a cramping pain that is making Cas weep at least once an hour. The only reason he knows it was three days is that he counted the entire time. He didn’t know what to do in the face of such unbearable discomfort. The pain makes him feel sick to his stomach, it’s too much. It makes him lift his chained wrists to his neck and reach his hands around the back to choke himself. Not that he could kill himself like this – or at all, that sin is so grave he can barely fathom it and it’s not as though he has an angel sword to hand – and yet he can’t stop himself trying. It blurs the pain for a few moments.

He tries to focus on the things he loves about humanity, to store up memories and reasons that he can use when Raphael really begins testing him. He struggles to make pictures stick in his head but finds that lyrics (from songs he doesn’t even know the names of) have planted in his mind and are stuck there. He feels jolts of accomplishment whenever he can get through a whole song and then spends hours guessing at the titles. The lyrics often make him laugh, but the sound comes out hollow and he wonders if he is already insane.

Leaves are fallin' all around, time I was on my way
Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay
but now it's time for me to go, the autumn moon lights my way

The words make Raphael laugh too. He opens the grate himself and pulls Castiel out by the feet, discarding his cringing body in a heap by the door. He looks down over him, grinning maniacally, “Now Castiel, don’t be idiotic. Your stay is far, far from over. We haven’t even dispensed with the pleasantries yet. I would be so disappointed if you were to leave already.”

PART TWO HERE

Comments

[aerilex.livejournal.com]

I'm so angry at myself 'cause I didn't even know you were working on this. -_-;;

BUT! This was brilliant!!!! Cas is so in-character, doing the one thing he feels he must in order to make everything right again. Such a Winchester trait. And Balthazar broke my heart. And Cas singing Dean's songs? (squee!!!!)

Brilliant dear, absolutely brilliant!

[amoama.livejournal.com]

Oh bb! Don't be angry - I was totally secretive because I didn't know if I could do it. So glad you're liking it! <333333

[vasiliki.livejournal.com]

Dean would say it was the time before Sam went to hell because that’s how Dean measures time. Cas would say it was before the most significant event in history failed to happen, before he was left with the clean up,

I love the juxtaposition of their characters here. And the earlier:
But Cas wants to be faithful to the truth Dean showed him. He stayed away because he knew Dean was done but he always knew the work wasn’t.

Castiel broke my heart in S6, but I understood every step of his thoughts procedure, and I couldn't find fault in any step. <3