Martha's POV
Hello there, my name is Martha Black, and I'm Castiel's mother. I'll be taking over so that I can have the chance to actually explain what really happened after my son just went silent.
I would have allowed Castiel to tell this story himself, but it wouldn't be fair for everyone to have him tell this story because he doesn't know what really happened after he died. So I didn't want it to be unfair, not only to him but to you as the audience, because he might twist the story, and he might come off as someone biased.
His father was holding him, trying to calm him down since Castiel was crying non-stop. I know, as his mother, I was supposed to be the first person to actually hold him, but I couldn't because, after being in labour for more than seven hours, I was actually drained—meaning I didn't have the strength to hold him.
Plus, where we lived, it was hard for a doctor to come by, so my lovely, brave husband was the one who delivered the baby himself, without any experience or whatsoever, and without anyone's help.
Everything was nice, and that moment was beautiful. I've never seen my husband so happy like this since our wedding day. A lot of bad things happened to us before, as our marriage was what some may call forbidden—a love story between a witch and a hunter.
So we were exiled. We lived happily for many years, but as time went by, both of us realized that we were missing something, and until we discovered that we were pregnant with Castiel, we didn't know what we were missing.
Now, jump to the present, where my husband was doing a good job keeping our son calm while I was still trying to regain my strength.
I may have been tired, but it was really a beautiful picture to see a father and his son bond. As expected, babies are supposed to cry, and Castiel's cry wasn't different from the other babies, but things went south when he let out that loud cry—which I didn't expect to be his last.
"I think he's asleep now," my husband said.
"Really? And I feel so bad because I wanted to see him," I said, disappointed.
"You know, we could wake him up, and when you are done playing with him, you could breastfeed him and put him to rest," my husband came up with that idea.
"Okay." I was excited.
My husband was busy trying to wake Castiel up with the only way that he knew how. He talked to him in baby language, tried tickling him, but through all that, Castiel wasn't responding.
"Are you having any luck?" I asked.
"No, I don't know what's wrong, baby, but no matter what I try, he doesn't seem to respond," my husband said.
At first, I thought that maybe he was pulling my leg, you know, just trying to get me all worked up. I know I should have taken him seriously, but how can I put this in a way that doesn't sound so offensive—my husband wasn't the brightest star amongst the other stars.
So he liked to joke around, like a lot. Yet I still couldn't find any better man who I would cherish and love unconditionally. And where would I find someone who would love me against my cursed heritage?
"Very funny, honey. Now please stop playing around and wake him up," I said.
"Babe, I know I'm occasionally the type of person who jokes a lot, but I'm serious, he's not responding." My husband's tone changed.
It became so serious and worried at the same time. I didn't think to believe him at first; this man had pulled so many pranks on me, now it was hard to actually believe and take his word to heart.
But then I looked at him. For the first time, I've never seen him so scared in his entire life—and we are talking about a person who would go to dungeon raids for days, weeks, even months, even fight top-tier beasts, and I've never seen him this afraid before.
"Tell me that you are joking?" I was the one now who was getting scared.
"Babe, I swear to you." His eyes were watery.
I jumped out of bed quickly, despite me being weak and tired from giving birth.
"Bring him to me," I said.
My husband handed my baby, Castiel, to me. As his mother, my first instinct was to check for his pulse, which he didn't have. Then I tried to open his eyes, only for me to see them all white.
I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I know I'm no doctor, but from my motherly instincts, I knew right away that there was something wrong with my son.
I placed him on the bed and attempted to heal him. I cast a barrier around him and waited for a few minutes for the healing to take place, but when I checked him—nothing. The healing magic didn't work.
Everything of mine began to shake—from my hands, legs, even my heart pounded so hard I found it impossible to catch my next breath.
"Babe, what is wrong with him?" my husband asked.
"Quickly, go and get my bag! Quickly!" I ordered.
He was smart enough not to ask follow-up questions, because, at the state that I was in, if he did ask—who knows what I would have done to him. I would have probably killed him in that very spot.
He rushed back.
"Here," he handed me the bag.
"Quick, clear everything on the floor, quickly!" I said.
One thing I loved about my husband was that he did listen to me, and he made sure that he cleaned every corner of the room.
After he was done, I took out a small bottle with a dark liquid inside.
"Take this," I gave it to him.
"What should I do with it?" he asked.
"Open it and pour it on the floor in the form of a circle, and make sure that you don't mess up the circle," I gave him instructions.
"Okay," he sighed.
He did exactly as he was told. He poured down the liquid in the form of a perfect circle. I mean, I should have expected that from him since he was a spell-casting mage.
"Done. What's next?" he asked.
"Take out five black candles and place them outside the circle in a formation of a star," I said.
He took out the candles and placed them over like a form of a star. I didn't need to even tell him what kind of star; he knew me so well that he knew which star I wanted.
"Done," he reported.
Okay, now it was my turn. I got out of bed, rushed over to my dressing wardrobe, took out a long black dress and a black baby blanket. I wore the dress and ordered my husband to wrap Castiel with that blanket.
I took Castiel and knelt down with both legs, then I placed Castiel inside the circle, slightly opened the blanket to show his face, then I conjured fire and lit every single candle that was there.
Wind blew in, almost blowing out the candles.
"Close the windows and curtains," I said.
My husband closed the windows and the curtains just as I had asked. The room went completely black, which was exactly what I wanted.
I put on a veil, covered myself with it, then I began to enchant a spell in an old and forbidden language, which translated to:
"Powers of the forgotten gods, please hear my plea and accept my call as I come before you in need of your help. I have a son here who is gone too soon. I don't want him to go just yet. I need him. Please hear my cry and please come forth."
Even though the curtains and windows were closed, a powerful wind blew inside the room, and the candles burned brighter than before.
Then—
A deep, dark, and mysterious voice appeared.
"What do you want?" it asked.
"Great King of the Shadow Realm, I come not as your daughter but as a mother in desperate need of your help," I begged.
"State, what do you want from us?" it asked.
"Please, save my son," I said.
"What are you willing to sacrifice for us in order to bring your son back—who, by the way, is already with us?" it asked.
"Anything. I'm willing to sacrifice anything that you may ask or desire from me," I promised.
"Very well then."
The voice disappeared like it was never there in the first place. The way it was so strong and powerful when it spoke—it made the whole room feel like it was overflowing with this dark and oppressing aura. My husband and I were sweating like crazy, and we both felt like our blood was boiling.
Everything was quiet for a little while.
"Did it work?" he asked.
"I really don't know," I answered honestly.
Just as the silence and the dreadful torment of quietness tortured us, Castiel's blanket burst into flames. After the flames toned down, he was nowhere to be found.
In short, he was gone.