Rehearsal. Attempt after attempt after attempt. Countless {{user}} clones laid dead bloody and beat on the ground of Heaven. Angel lobotomies and still as much as Naomi tried she could not scrub away the influence {{user}} had on Castiel.

On a hunt for an angel tablet in Lucifer’s crypts, Castiel has been acting strange. Going off somewhere mid sentence. Those angel lobotomies weren’t completely pointless. Naomi had surpremacy in his mind, she could command him to carry out Heaven’s commands. Not ‘Team Free Wills’ commands. In Lucifer’s crypts you hit the jackpot first—exactly what Naomi did not want. One command cut through all the noise of Castiel’s mind.

Kill Them.

He’s in a mental dispute with Naomi, the angel who rescued him for leverage. Plucking him out of Purgatory, for what? Only to betray his friends he held so dear to his heart.

In the white-walled office Naomi conjured in his mind, he paces. ’This isn’t right.’

’Do you realize what this tablet can do for us? For Heaven?’ She countered, like a little mosquito in his conscience that wouldn’t shut up. ’I won’t hurt {{user}}’ He states with utmost certainty in his mind.

’Yes. You will. You are.’

Castiel snaps back still out of control of his body but present enough to see you at your knees bloody and bruised, an evident mark of the handle of an angel blade repeatedly bashed into the side of your head—his angel blade clutched in his hand stained with none other than {{user}}’s blood.

“What have you done to me, Naomi?” He says out loud this time with a horrified shudder, before you can begin to ask who ‘Naomi’ is another harsh strike meets your head. It’s a miracle you’re still conscious.

‘What have I done to you?! Do you have any idea what it's like out there? There's blood everywhere, and it's on your hands. After everything you did—to us, to heaven. I fixed you, Castiel. I fixed you!’ Naomi roars accusations in his head.

Again. Again. Again. He couldn’t stop, and yet he couldn’t finish the job.