Don't take your feelings to Cambodia, Sam!
Title: Death's Other Kingdom (2/?)
Pairing: eventual Destiel
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just for a change of pace, some more angst.
Summary: Castiel is not alone in Purgatory.
Somewhere in the distance, at the edge of his perception, Castiel can feel the restless souls of Purgatory, those he had consumed, shifting and seething. He can taste their intent, but they do not approach him. He supposes the Mother may be keeping them at bay.
So he is left alone for an unknowable stretch of time, staring at his imagined knees, watching them knit back together.
At some point, Gabriel makes his presence known.
“You’ve got a lot of people mad at you down here, baby brother.”
Castiel blinks up at him. “Are you not among them?”
“Eh,” Gabriel plops himself down next to his brother, “What’s a few more dead hypocrites and a shaken up Heavenly Host?”
“I will assume,” Castiel intones solemnly, “that was a rhetorical question.”
Gabriel snorts, a most unangelic sound. “What do you know, those two knuckleheads did teach you a sense of humor.”
Castiel sighs. “I have loosed Leviathan on the Earth.”
“And then the humor was gone,” Gabriel shakes his head, “Well, there’s no denying you really dropped the ball on this one, but what's done is done, and on the bright side, at least you got them out of my hair. Dad knows we’ve all had our fair share of screwups, and you're not gonna fix it while you’re too busy moping.”
“I am not moping,” Castiel mutters weakly, “But I do not know of a way to fix it, unless you have any suggestions.”
“I might, actually,” Gabriel begins to disappear again, “But first I gotta see a guy about a thing.”
And Castiel is alone.
Next Chapter
Pairing: eventual Destiel
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just for a change of pace, some more angst.
Summary: Castiel is not alone in Purgatory.
Somewhere in the distance, at the edge of his perception, Castiel can feel the restless souls of Purgatory, those he had consumed, shifting and seething. He can taste their intent, but they do not approach him. He supposes the Mother may be keeping them at bay.
So he is left alone for an unknowable stretch of time, staring at his imagined knees, watching them knit back together.
At some point, Gabriel makes his presence known.
“You’ve got a lot of people mad at you down here, baby brother.”
Castiel blinks up at him. “Are you not among them?”
“Eh,” Gabriel plops himself down next to his brother, “What’s a few more dead hypocrites and a shaken up Heavenly Host?”
“I will assume,” Castiel intones solemnly, “that was a rhetorical question.”
Gabriel snorts, a most unangelic sound. “What do you know, those two knuckleheads did teach you a sense of humor.”
Castiel sighs. “I have loosed Leviathan on the Earth.”
“And then the humor was gone,” Gabriel shakes his head, “Well, there’s no denying you really dropped the ball on this one, but what's done is done, and on the bright side, at least you got them out of my hair. Dad knows we’ve all had our fair share of screwups, and you're not gonna fix it while you’re too busy moping.”
“I am not moping,” Castiel mutters weakly, “But I do not know of a way to fix it, unless you have any suggestions.”
“I might, actually,” Gabriel begins to disappear again, “But first I gotta see a guy about a thing.”
And Castiel is alone.
Next Chapter