sirenspull_logs

[As soon as the demons are gone, leaving sulfur and a few terrified beach-goers in their wake, Chuck turns back to the... other, not sure which eyes He'll find staring back at Him.

It doesn't really matter. Even if Cas had them for a second, he won't hold that control. The Leviathans will out. They're too strong and too destructive for this place, and that makes them His responsibility. It is, at long last, a responsibility He can't and won't run away from or hide. These monsters were his first mistake, in the dawn of the making of the world, and they'll be His last. He knows that this means everything changing.

It has to.]

[As soon as the demons are gone, Castiel can't hold on anymore. He's too weak and shocked and damaged to keep fighting back the countless creatures as they regain their strength, though Castiel doesn't understand why Chuck has shown up and he wants to protect him. He just can't.

The Leviathan smile as they take over once more, and as they realize who they're facing the smile only grows wider.]

Long time no see, isn't it?

[Black blood is mixing with the red in trickles from both the partially-healed wounds and seemingly nowhere, as the damage from the weapon continues to take it's toll. But the Leviathan are still in this fight, and their smile never falters.]

[Chuck can see the change almost before it happens. Something slams shut in His eyes, leaving them steely and chillingly cold in ways that look foreign and distorted on Chuck's kind face. There's disgust curling his lip and anger steeling his jaw.

Even its voice makes him angry. He casts a scornful glance over Castiel's seemingly-frail form.]

Moron. [Hi, baby, firstborn of my loins, I love you!] God, this is pathetic. Look at you. You used to devour planets.

[This, evidently, is what billions (trillions?) of years of Purgatorial starvation will do to a species.]

[Castiel is watching only in pieces, consciousness fading in and out, and he isn't making any sort of connections about what's going on. He can see the change in Chuck's face but can't read it as anything other than perhaps anger; he remembers seeing something close to it when he'd been in Chuck's apartment after being attacked by Sam.

The Leviathan just laugh at the comment.]

Appetizers. They're like little talking, scrambling hors d'oeuvres.

[Humans are tasty. They like them.]

Maybe if we weren't so hungry, we could afford to be more picky. And whose fault is that?

[One hand curls into a fist. The old wrath and the fury rise in his gut, but He holds on out of force of habit. Pure, stupid habit and the binding of Chuck Shurley unraveling by the second to reveal the God beneath.]

Yeah. Blame me. I've never heard that before. [With his unclenched hand He gestures at Castiel's stressed body.] Taking out your temper tantrum on the new baby that replaced you- oh yeah, that's definitely a new one.

You never stop to think that maybe you're being blamed because you've done something wrong.

[Just saying, Daddy. The Leviathan glance down at the body they've stolen, then back up at Chuck.]

Come now, don't act like we sought out one of the ones you actually care about just to hurt him. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens.

[And they don't feel bad about it, because why should they? They wouldn't have had to hitch a ride with the baby angel if they hadn't been locked away in Purgatory just for being what they are, after all.]

Though from what we've seen, it seems like you don't actually care about him either. Or much of anything or anyone, anymore.

Edited 2012-12-03 08:26 (UTC)

[He tilts his head, face oddly placid.]

I've heard better guilt spiels from better sons than you. Maybe you should try harder.

[The fact that these Leviathan actually have a really, really good basis for guilting him is beyond the point. So they were damned for eternity for the crime of existing the way He made them. Deets.]

Why? It's never good enough for dear old Daddy, after all.

[That comment catches Castiel's attention, distantly, but it doesn't make sense. Nothing about this makes sense. He's traumatized and dying and he's probably delusional, because the only way to interpret any of this is completely impossible.]

Edited 2012-12-03 08:33 (UTC)

[Something about that comment and suddenly He's up in the Leviathan's space, smacking him hard enough to send him reeling. A bitch-slap for a naughty child. He stands over the monster coldly, crossing his arms over his chest.]

You've killed a lot of people I love, here and at home. [He holds a finger up threateningly, shaking slightly with the effort to not stab his fucking eye out.] You have a lot to answer for, so maybe instead of being a bunch of assholes, you should apologize before I get really pissed.

[The blow does send them recoiling and Castiel's head spinning, as the Leviathan are hurt by Crowley's attack as well, and despite their hold on the control of the vessel it isn't as complete as before. Castiel can see better, hear more, feel more, even though he can't hope to have the strength to fight for control again.

He wouldn't be able to focus on it even if he were capable of staging an attempt, because none of this makes sense. Everything is adding up to only one conclusion and Castiel can't accept it, because it's insane.

The Leviathan, though, just laugh once again, even more unhinged than before.]

You haven't changed your ways at all. Comforting. You locked us away for being what you Created us to be, and you expect us to apologize to you? You left your precious angels to kill each other because you were just as terrible a Father to your little archangels as you were to us, and humanity is a lost cause entirely. You're zero for three, Daddy. You should be apologizing.

[Something in him snaps. It's a snapped twig, a broken guitar string, a chink in the Divide in him tumbling down.]

Hey, you know, I think you have a point there.

[He steps closer and punches the Leviathan viciously in the gut with every ounce of his rapidly increasing strength.]

[The Leviathan double over with a bloody wheeze, but they're laughing all at once. Castiel's sword is in their hand in a moment and they take a sharp swipe toward Chuck, more than a little crazed from injury and anger and betrayal and so much more.

Castiel is simply in disbelief.]

[It catches him in the arm and chest and tears out a chunk of flesh. He reels back with a scream and instinctively presses an arm to his chest, but a rush of Power from inside Him holds off bleeding, spurred by the ashy primordial smell of the Leviathans before Him. It's instinctive- He's slipping back into that old skin, that old role.]

Fuck. [It still hurts, though.

He hisses when he sees what weapon it was- an angel's blade, something holy. That has no business in their hands. None. He lunges and grabs the Leviathan's wrist roughly, inhuman strength and remembered skill from fifty lifetimes driving him to pry the sword from strong hands, never mind if he breaks wrist or fingers or does damage. As soon as he has it, it's vanishing. Going home, dropping out of thin air onto his couch in Sector Four.]

[There's a feeling of incredible satisfaction from the Leviathan, and Castiel is beginning to realize just how personal this is for them; they hate this being in front of them, who Castiel always knew as the prophet Chuck, his friend, but is suddenly realizing might be someone and something completely different.

The Leviathan snarl and give an unearthly noise as their wrist breaks and a few fingers dislocate, furious; Castiel can feel the pain but it's distant and unimportant in the face of everything else. The Leviathan throw a punch with their other hand, all ancient fury striking out ultimately futilely.]

[Chuck, meanwhile, hates the creatures in front of Him. Hates them and remembers them and resents every drop of angelic blood sticking to their stolen skin; it's deeply personal but in ways He doesn't want, the old ways and the guilt and the wrath and mistakes never thought of or regretted.

The punch sideswipes him pretty hard but doesn't do much more than make His ear hurt like a motherfuck. It's enough pain to hasten the tide of anger, to make him throw the Leviathan hard to the ground and clench a hand to make them hold fucking still. Listen while he talks and looms over the prone, possessed angel.

The betrayal and hatred sings out from the monsters' every pore, and after all this time and all these resentful children He finally has something to say.]

Don't even give me that victim crap, okay? You don't even know how good I was to you. I could have killed every one of you right there, [lie. He couldn't stomach the thought of putting out those infant lives back then, on the First Day. Death liked them and they were His and he couldn't kill yet.] but I didn't. I let you live. I gave you a whole world to yourselves.

[They're not surprised to be taken down, really; they're not a match for God and they know it, even with the power Castiel has from the souls, and the angel's grace is dying out fast and their own power dwindling with it. Fighting hadn't been about winning since Chuck had shown up, it had been about doing something.]

You betrayed and abandoned us when we didn't meet your standards.

[They hiss in a language not quite English, some mix of the Earthly language and of their own native one that they spoke so long ago.]

Seems like a reoccurring problem with you. You did the same with your next children too, didn't you, only you thought letting them wipe themselves out was easier than locking them away. We wonder which choice was more merciful?

[That blanks out any mercy or tenderness He'd been holding onto. Slipping into disgust and self-defensive hate is so much easier- as is grabbing the Leviathan by the coat lapels, the grip of power gone, and pulling them up into his face.]

You don't get to talk about them! How-

[How dare you, you ungrateful little shit. Ungrateful. He hauls back and drives his fist into their face.]

Yeah, you know what? You're right. It's never good enough. You were a mistake.

[The faces of the angels who have died press against him, crowding his mind's eye until he's hitting too fast, holding the Leviathan down and striking him over and over, snarling cruelly in furious- god, he doesn't even know. Some wandering journey through different ancient Hebraic languages, driven to antiquity by an unbridled wrath he hasn't felt on His own in centuries that's rushing back in a sudden quantity too great for Him to handle.]

I should've just had the balls to stab you in the neck with a pair of scissors and- and fucking abort you on day one. [He grabs them by the throat, staring hatefully into Castiel's blue eyes.] You didn't even deserve a first chance. You don't deserve a second one.

[The Leviathan just laugh, the noise unhinged and holding no joy but still some level of dark humor. This is funny to them in a terrible way, almost a vindication of everything they've felt in all those years and years in Purgatory.

They don't stop laughing through the pain and broken bones, and Castiel isn't even registering them. All he can think about is all the moments he and Chuck had spent together, both in awful situations and in silly ones spent drinking or bowling, and try to reconcile what he's hearing with them. It doesn't line up. It can't.]

You made us, Daddy. You made us what we are, and no matter what you do you're punishing us for your mistakes.

[They grin, a mix of black blood and red all over their face and throat and clothes.]

We did nothing wrong. We were just Created by a monster even greater than us.

[At some point the Wrath bleeds into guilt bleeds into rage and He finds Himself shaking the Leviathan by the front of their shirt, hauling them up and slamming them into the ground - that is forming itself into rocks and pebbles - hard enough to make them bleed. Not even throwing punches, just slamming him down over and over in rage.]

No. Shut your fucking mouth, you- parasite.

[He hauls the Leviathan up closer to him and speaks in that old language, the one older than the angels, that Castiel wouldn't understand- but the Leviathan would.]

I know what you're capable of. You'd kill them all if you had the chance.

Of course we would. That's how we were made to be.

[They ignore the pain and hiss the words back, matching the language, and Castiel doesn't care that he can't understand. He can't understand much of anything anymore, not just because it's such a shock but because he's quickly running out of time.]

Maybe you shouldn't have made them so delicious.

Maybe I should just-

[Then some of his senses come back to him. Something is changing in the blue of Castiel's eyes and it's enough to catch his attention and startle him out of his rage-coma.]

No. [Cas is slipping. He keeps the angel - or the monsters - from going over the edge of death. Not yet.] I can make you less hungry.

I'll give you a chance. I'll extract you out of him and give you human bodies of your own, no powers. Just apologize.

[He knows they won't take it. But he has to offer it. Offer them the chance to save themselves, then he won't feel as bad for doing what absolutely has to be done.

He knows it has to be done anyway. This will end with him yanking the Leviathans from Castiel's body and crushing them to dust before their essence can reach the water, and this little deal is just a stopgap to patch over whatever stain of guilt might follow him. Will follow him.]

Trade one prison for another? Never.

[They smile, again, and in many ways it's the the most genuine they ever have done so.]

Take your stand, Father. For once.

[He just shakes His head. In the end, they never listen. They never compromise when they should or reason when they can. It's almost sad.

This whole race of feral disappointments tearing into the children He truly loves- it's almost a regret to sink His hand into Castiel's chest and bodily rip out an almighty fistful of blackness like slime, like scales, like hunger and primordial seas. From the hole He made they all come rushing out at once, and it's stomach-turningly easy to raise a hand-

-and the whirling vortex of darkness is gone.

No scream, no fighting, no thrashing or explosion or horrible death rattles. They're just gone. A thousand lives, and Castiel is at last empty. Chuck stares into the empty space where they were for a second before remembering Cas and turning to him, finding him healed before He's finished turning His head.

Every fiber of him is terrified at what He'll see.]

[Castiel is still alive.

He knows, distantly, that the Leviathan are gone, that he's alone in his vessel again and it's over. But it's almost like the connection between his mind and his grace and his body have been severed, and he lays limp against the ground and breathes in short, intermittent gasps. His grace is flickering, not even strong enough to shine out like angels usually do just before death, but he's not going quite that quickly either. He still has a minute or two left.

Somewhere, he finds the resiliency and the will that have always been his strongest assets and manages to whisper a few barely audible, broken words.]

It was always you.

[Suddenly he finds the next breath catching painfully, rasping out an answer with a desolate nod.]

Yeah.

[He looks at the little angel, once again broken. Again. His body is healed, but his grace is doing something... weird. And Chuck just wants to help- as if anything could help.]

Do you- uh- want me to fix that?

[OPEN]

the 6th, after Crowley. ULTIMATE SHOWDOWN OF ULTIMATE DESTINY.

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