iwanttowatchyouburn replied to your post: Not much fight in you, I am disappointed~ -She…

When the Vortex lets them go they are in a strange, underground place, walls of old, shoddy concrete surround them, with greenish reside lines from water leaks. There are pipes, steaming from boilers and there is much noise.

He doesn’t pay any attention to where he is, he doesn’t care, his brain not functioning at that level beyond the intense desire to get out of her grip and he twists, turns trying to pull away from her grunting and whimpering from the pain of her holding his arm. It hurts and he wants away.

Imprisoned - Day 5

He’s going to die.

Castiel can feel it. It’s an aching terror in his chest. Dean should have found him by now. There was no reason he shouldn’t have done so, absolutely no reason. No amount of excuses could push away the only possible reason there was left for why he hadn’t been found. Dean wasn’t looking for him.

It was an idea he’d been fighting off for days now but there was no other reason Dean couldn’t be here. He was a more than capable hunter, he’d tracked down monsters and Angels and family in far less time than this. Why wasn’t he here?

It was the only reason, the only thing that could possibly explain it. And he wasn’t here. And he wasn’t coming. Because she was right. She’d been right all along.

Nobody cared about him, nobody cared whether he lived or died in all the Realms of existence. Not God, not the Angels…..not Dean.

Because honestly what could he offer Dean. Worry and stress when he strains himself. A liability in hunts. The only time he’d been on a hunt with the hunter, he’d died and Dean had sold himself to Hell to save him. He had condemned him and broken him. Defeated him and pushed him down at every turn. Whenever it seemed Dean was getting better he’d only ever dragged him back and made it worse. Made everything worse.

And now he knew that Dean saw it. Saw what everyone else in existence saw. That he was useless and pointless and beyond raising Dean from Hell he had never done the world or its inhabitants any ounce of good.

Michael shouldn’t have swayed Heaven’s judgement that hung over him. Castiel should have died then and so many things would have gone right. Maybe Dean would have his brother. Maybe the Apocalypse would never have happened. Maybe…

But he hadn’t. He had managed to make everything go wrong. It had turned his family against him, it had turned his friends against him and now, as he stared at the plug that was still burning in the bottle slowly drawing closer and closer to his death, he realized it had turned Dean, the only person in the world who really mattered, against him.

The only thing he regretted as the hour got later and later, was that he was leaving Dean alone.

But now he knew.

She was right.

No one was coming for him.