I get clingy about celestial objects, okay?
I have committed Supernatural fic. Multi-chapter Supernatural fic. Destiel fixit fic. Although, this being the first (itty bitty) chapter, there is not much Destiel or fixit yet. But still. This is a thing that is happening.
Title: Death's Other Kingdom (1/?)
Pairing: eventual Destiel
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst? I mean, I think that's a given in this fandom.
Summary: When an Angel dies, where does he go?
Castiel hits the endless empty of Purgatory hard enough to break bone. His nonexistent knees shatter on impact and he is left staring blankly at the blankness of Purgatory’s floor, gasping the pain of his insubstantial wounds. Beneath his hands, Jimmy Novak’s hands, he sees nothing but a depthless expanse of dusty grey.
It is far more than he had expected to see, after he died.
And then Raphael is standing over him.
He feels the crackle of energy Raphael summons to smite him, completely unlike the power he held on Earth or in Heaven, but far more than Castiel has to his name, nonetheless. Castiel does not look up. He waits to suffer at his older brother’s hand, and he welcomes it.
Instead, there is a deafening crash, and nothing strikes him. Weakly, he turns his upwards, or what passes for upwards in a place with no direction. Now it is Eve looming over him. He sees her in the body of the young virgin sacrificed to free her, sees her wearing the face of Mary Winchester, sees her as she was when first she walked the Earth, each laid over the other. He quivers, and bows his head.
“Oh, come on, now,’ she says, with all her voices, “don’t give me that. You’ve gone much to far to get all meek, now. What would even be the point?”
Still, Castiel does not meet her eyes. Any of them.
“Perhaps to salvage what remains of my grace, in death, if not life,” he rasps, “Whatever punishment you have in store for me, I will not fight it.”
She laughs at that, a bright sound that echoes discordantly across the vacuum of Purgatory. “Oh, yes, punishment! You do deserve punishment, Castiel. But I just don’t care to spend the effort.”
He looks up at that, confused.
“I know you are the one who ordered my release,” she circles him now, slow, like the ancient predator she is, “I also know you helped your precious Winchesters to kill me. And that you delivered the corpse of my vessel to Crowley. And that you ate the souls of my children to power your little war machine.”
She stops on her heel, ever so precisely, spins and kneels, bowing her head near to Castiel’s.
Lowering her mouth to his ear, she whispers, “And I know you released the Leviathan upon the Earth.”
Castiel trembles, and presses his head to the ground that isn’t there.
She lays a hand over the nape of his neck, not unkindly.
“And I also know you have some purpose left to serve.”
Then she is gone, leaving Castiel alone in the vast nothingness of Purgatory, surrounded by souls he had once captured or killed.
Chapter 2
Title: Death's Other Kingdom (1/?)
Pairing: eventual Destiel
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst? I mean, I think that's a given in this fandom.
Summary: When an Angel dies, where does he go?
Castiel hits the endless empty of Purgatory hard enough to break bone. His nonexistent knees shatter on impact and he is left staring blankly at the blankness of Purgatory’s floor, gasping the pain of his insubstantial wounds. Beneath his hands, Jimmy Novak’s hands, he sees nothing but a depthless expanse of dusty grey.
It is far more than he had expected to see, after he died.
And then Raphael is standing over him.
He feels the crackle of energy Raphael summons to smite him, completely unlike the power he held on Earth or in Heaven, but far more than Castiel has to his name, nonetheless. Castiel does not look up. He waits to suffer at his older brother’s hand, and he welcomes it.
Instead, there is a deafening crash, and nothing strikes him. Weakly, he turns his upwards, or what passes for upwards in a place with no direction. Now it is Eve looming over him. He sees her in the body of the young virgin sacrificed to free her, sees her wearing the face of Mary Winchester, sees her as she was when first she walked the Earth, each laid over the other. He quivers, and bows his head.
“Oh, come on, now,’ she says, with all her voices, “don’t give me that. You’ve gone much to far to get all meek, now. What would even be the point?”
Still, Castiel does not meet her eyes. Any of them.
“Perhaps to salvage what remains of my grace, in death, if not life,” he rasps, “Whatever punishment you have in store for me, I will not fight it.”
She laughs at that, a bright sound that echoes discordantly across the vacuum of Purgatory. “Oh, yes, punishment! You do deserve punishment, Castiel. But I just don’t care to spend the effort.”
He looks up at that, confused.
“I know you are the one who ordered my release,” she circles him now, slow, like the ancient predator she is, “I also know you helped your precious Winchesters to kill me. And that you delivered the corpse of my vessel to Crowley. And that you ate the souls of my children to power your little war machine.”
She stops on her heel, ever so precisely, spins and kneels, bowing her head near to Castiel’s.
Lowering her mouth to his ear, she whispers, “And I know you released the Leviathan upon the Earth.”
Castiel trembles, and presses his head to the ground that isn’t there.
She lays a hand over the nape of his neck, not unkindly.
“And I also know you have some purpose left to serve.”
Then she is gone, leaving Castiel alone in the vast nothingness of Purgatory, surrounded by souls he had once captured or killed.
Chapter 2