Until-
He was jerked up by the arm. Hard.
Cold hands cupped his cheeks.
"Not yet," Harry breathed urgently.
Castiel's eyes swiveled across the room in fright. Harry hung still, wrists trussed up to the roof, blade skewering his torso.
So this…
He whipped his gaze forward at Harry, then past him, at the approaching Reaper.
"I said no. I said no twice."
"Harry," he said voicelessly.
"He won't listen again."
The Reaper passed through the fire without care, its tattered robes hardly rustling against the heat. Its arm was extended, waiting.
"Help me," Harry begged Castiel. "You have to help me." His wild eyes flitted across the angel's face.
"I can't." Castiel couldn't hold back the tremble in his words. "I can't. I'm sorry."
Harry blinked at him. "What?"
"You have to go now."
"No…" The Reaper plunged his hand into Harry's back. "Please-"
Castiel was powerless inside the circle of fire. Nothing he did would push the Reaper back. Nothing he said would matter.
Harry twisted around in the blink of an eye to face the cloaked figure. Using all the strength he could muster, he pushed back, crying out as the bony hand around his heart detached itself. He fell to the ground beside Castiel, coughing on his dry breath. "I'm not dying like this," he croaked. "I can't die like this."
Castiel pulled him into a frantic hug. "I love you," he whispered.
"No!" Harry shoved him away. "I don't care!" The Reaper was floating nearer. He scrabbled back, but his strength was leaving him. "Stop him!"
"I can't," Castiel tried to say. He reached up at the Reaper, but his hand simply glided through. "I'm not strong enough."
Harry let out an enraged snarl when the Reaper forced a hand into his chest and gripped his heart again. He struggled and thrashed, fists clenched and legs kicking. But the Reaper was prepared this time for retaliation. Its hold tightened painfully.
Harry's strangled gasp cut Castiel like sharp glass.
Everything slowed.
His thoughts turned murky. The desperation dulled and his senses grew numb. It wasn't heat from the flames that he felt now. It was biting cold. He didn't see Harry anymore. Just a blur of red and black. He couldn't hear anything but the sound of his breath. The final blow. If there ever was a God-
"DON'T YOU DARE!"
He was nearly knocked back as a rush of noise and thoughts and sights flooded into him.
"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" Harry roared at him while being dragged away by the Reaper through the fire.
No more. He couldn't watch Harry die all over again. He couldn't bear it. His hands trembled with uncertain violence. His stomach twisted into thorny knots. His heart… Damn this heart.
"A moment ago you wanted to die."
"Well, that was... that was before you showed up, wasn't it?"
Do something.
"You are important because I saved you and I saved you because you're important."
Anything.
His breath caught.
"No one listens but you. You are one of a kind, Mr. Potter."
No one listens...
Do something.
Just listen.
Someone listen.
Scream.
"DEAN!"
The door burst open.
Sam and Dean staggered to a halt at the sight of the chaos in front of them.
Castiel was on his knees, trapped in a circle of holy fire. Smell of burnt flesh was fresh and the charred marks on the floor were the only evidence of the demons that had captured the angel. By the far wall a limp and bloodied body hung from ropes.
Dean didn't waste a moment.
He whipped his jacket off and flung it over the ring, breaking it. "Close your eyes, Sammy."
It was night time when Jimmy stirred awake.
Sam and Dean scrambled from their perch against the wall to get to him. "Cas?"
He hesitated for a beat before shaking his head. He saw disappointment in their faces. He looked down at the scorched floor he had been lying on. Taking a breath to stave off nausea, he started to move. Felt strange, moving. He folded his legs under him and took a moment collect himself. Moving was tiring. After he managed to sit up, he acknowledged the brothers again. "Something happened."
He followed their shifting gazes to the other end of the room.
"Oh God..." He pressed a hand to his mouth at the sight of a body lying in a pool of blood. "Oh my God." He averted his eyes and dry-heaved.
"Do you know who that is?" Dean asked.
He shook his head while sniffing back his tears. "N-no."
"Do you know Harry?"
He stilled. "What?" He brushed his hands against his eyes. "Harry?"
"Yeah. Know him?"
"I... Th-that's... Is that..."
"Yeah."
He exhaled shakily. "Castiel... Where is he?"
Castiel brushed his fingers against the white '4' on the front door. Dropping his hand, he twisted the handle and pushed the door open. It was dark inside. Clean. He walked in, his footsteps dulled by an area rug. He pushed past the fog, past the empty picture frames. Past the silence.
Cupboard under the stairs.
He stopped in front of the slanted door. He knew of this place. He should go in.
The door opened into more darkness. This darkness was deep. He reached in. Very deep. He should go in.
He was at the top of a stone staircase. Tracing the banister with the side of his arm, he descended. Now his footsteps echoed. They echoed ominously. The air grew dank. No more silence. There was soft scraping of metal on rock. Rustling. Ragged breath... Castiel quickened his step. He was close. The never-ending staircase took him deeper and deeper still.
Faster.
Faster.
A metal door clanged open for him.
"Harry."
He crumpled to his knees beside the young man lying on the stone floor, surrounded by blood. A blade pierced his chest and it scraped against the ground with each laboured breath. He gripped the hilt. With a swift pull, he drew it out. It clattered deafeningly as it was cast aside, the clang ringing around them. Blood poured out onto the floor. He pressed his hand to the wound. Too much, too fast.
He rolled Harry onto his back and pulled his shirt apart. With a wave of his hand, the blood vanished, leaving behind fresh wounds - one long strip across the torso and a deep gash in the chest.
"You would let me die...?"
His eyes darted up to find Harry staring at him unblinkingly. Dull green eyes. "No."
Harry turned his head away. "Don't lie..." He closed his eyes. "It hurts."
"I know." Castiel pulled his energy into his palm. "It will stop now." He pushed the energy out into Harry's chest. "Breathe." The shallower wound started to mend, flesh and skin knitting together. But only the shallow wound. Castiel gathered all he could from inside, however the piercing wound would not respond. It just wouldn't-
"Were you scared?"
He jerked his hand away and pressed it to his chest. So scared. He was still so scared. He was scared because he wasn't strong enough. He wasn't strong enough for Harry. He looked up at the Heavens, silently praying for more strength even though he knew it was hopeless. No one was listening in here, in the dark basement. Not God. Not even Dean.
"I have to go."
"What?!" Sam and Dean blurted out in shock.
Jimmy was already up on his feet. He had to get as far away from this godforsaken place as possible. "My daughter... I need to..." He staggered towards the door.
Dean stopped him in a flash. "No." He gripped the man's arm. "You are not leaving."
Jimmy shook him off. "You can't stop me, Dean."
"Cas needs you to-"
"And I need to see Claire." He shoved Dean back. "She is my daughter. You have no right."
"You selfish bastard!"
He let out a humorless bark of laughter.
"Hey."
Castiel steeled himself before titling his head down again.
There was no anger in Harry's expression...
Just curiosity.
"What's wrong?"
What's wrong...? Castiel looked down at the blood on his clothes. Everywhere. Everything had gone wrong and he didn't have time to catch up. "I'm not strong enough," he whispered. "I don't know what to do."
"Not strong enough?"
"I-I can't."
"... Castiel?"
He shook his head.
"Castiel."
He lifted his eyes.
"I am strong enough," Harry told him deliberately.
"You shouldn't stop him," Sam murmured.
"But Cas won't-"
"It's his choice."
Jimmy didn't wait this time. He ran out the door, away from the madness for just a sliver of normalcy.
"... What?" Castiel slipped his hand into Harry's and clutched it tight.
"Don't you dare give up."
Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare. "I-I don't understand... What should I do?"
Death tented his fingers, pressing the tips of his well-manicured nails to his long chin. "Like a cockroach, that one."
Sam rested his head back against the wall and stared at the shuttered window. "Cas will be okay... Right, Dean?"