None of that sounded at all gentle. He was not sure how he would fair, but he knew that it was the only chance he had. It was the only thing they could try before this all came to a brutal and possibly a bloody end. He wanted to go on living. He had things to do. He had things he wanted to see with Rose. He couldn't be God. He was playing with fire. He was messing with powers far beyond his control. God could be absent. No one would look after these people. They could solve their own problems. Castiel just wanted to live.

The pain ripped through him violently. It hurt. It hurt more than he could fathom. This hurt more than the vortex. This was something completely different. It was crude, but effective. It was like cutting off a mutilated leg with a butter knife. It was going to hurt a lot, but it'd get the job done eventually. It was the only option you had short of chewing it off. It was all they really had.

The pain seemed to carry on for ages. The Leviathans pushed and shoved in an attempt to bust though Castiel's vessel. The skin on his body strained and faces appeared underneath the skin. It was not for the faint of heart. His hand slipped out of hers long ago and they were balled into fists. It all seemed to build up until it felt like he couldn't take it anymore.

The spear was yanked out, but Castiel sat up with it. He sat up quickly and screamed out in pain as it was removed. After another minute he fell back against the table hard. He didn't move. He didn't open his eyes. He didn't speak. He didn't even appear to be breathing. It looked like he had lost his war.

It took a full seven minutes before his body jump started. His eyes fluttered open and they searched the infirmary.