Chapter V, part ii
give me a shooting star and i'll make a wish
i'll make a wish for you
oh
why did i ever doubt you?
you know i would die here without you
Possibly the most terrifying thing Jared had ever done was to introduce Castiel to his parents. It happened almost a year after they’d gotten together-if that was what had happened; it felt childish to call it that, but that was what it was-midway during filming for Season Three. His Ma had called to congratulate him on another season of Supernatural, when one thing had lead to another, and he’d said he’d go down and see them in Texas.
The conversation went a little like this:
“Oh, wonderful,” his Ma had replied, and he’d practically been able to hear the smile on her face. “Meg’s already down here, and if you’re lucky, you might catch a bit of Jeff, too. He’s coming down next weekend.”
“Awesome, Ma.”
“Bring Jensen, won’t you?”
“I can’t, Ma-he’s going on holiday with Danneel. They’ve gotten real serious. She’s a sweet girl, Ma, I think you’d like her; not that it matters, really, considering how he’s not your son and all, even if you want him to be.”
“Is that jealousy I hear?”
“You hear no such thing.”
“Are you going to be bringing anyone, then? What about that pretty girl-what happened to her?”
“Sandy, Ma. We stopped seeing each other ages ago. I figured I’d bring Cas; he’s this guy and he’s really nice-and he bakes, so I’ll get him to bring you some of his cookies or a gingerbread house or whatever. We live together, and, I, uh-I mean-you know, he’s just-he’s a really good friend. No, I mean-you know, Ma, right?”
“Of course, honey; your boyfriend sounds like a wonderful guy.”
“He’s not my-!”
“Of course.”
“Okay, so I mean, maybe he is, but-but I’m going to hang up now. You’ll meet him when you meet him, right?”
“Give him all my love, Jay.”
“Will do, Ma.”
“And Jensen too.”
“Sure thing.”
“Especially Jensen.”
“Hanging up now.”
That was how Jared came to be stood outside his parent’s house, a bottle of wine clutched in his hands and an angel by his side-for a fleeting moment, he was wracked with nerves, unable to even bring himself to look at the doorbell. Then he glanced to the side, and his eyes found bright blue-and it was Castiel who pressed the doorbell, and they stood together, waiting patiently for his Ma to open the door. When the door finally opened, it wasn’t his Ma stood there-it was his Pa, and he quickly enveloped Jared in a huge, warm hug, before staring at Castiel for one long, hard moment.
Then, rather awkwardly, Castiel stuck out his hand.
“It’s, uh-it is very nice to meet you, Mr Padalecki.”
“Come here, kid,” Jerry said, scooping the angel up in a big bear-hug. “It’s great to meet you, too-although, I haven’t heard all that much about you,” he finished, and looked pointedly at Jared then.
Jared rubbed the back of his neck.
He let out a sheepish laugh.
Something told him that it was going to be a very long day.
The day progressed pretty smoothly, in all honesty. Castiel was welcomed with open arms-quite literally, in every case-by his family, and soon enough it was as if he’d always been there; which, in a roundabout way, Jared supposed he had. His Ma complimented him on the cookies he’d brought along, and pretty soon the angel was writing down every single ingredient he’d included, as well as overly complex, ridiculously long instructions as to how to make them-his Ma listened raptly, though, and then proceeded to trade cooking secrets with him. After that, his Pa quizzed the angel rather thoroughly on pretty much everything, including what job he had-
“I have no need for a job, Mr Padalecki.”
“Please, call me Jerry.”
“…okay.”
“So, what, you don’t have a job, then?”
“No, I-”
“What about that cooking of yours?”
“What?”
“Isn’t that your job?”
-and where he lived:
“I live with Jared.”
“So you’re a freeloader, then.”
“I do not understand that reference.”
“He talks all posh, Jay-is he rich? Are you rich?”
-until, eventually, Jerry came to the conclusion that Castiel wasn’t all that bad at all. Jeff spent most of his time ruffling the angel’s hair and punching his arm, and, at one point, when Jared looked around, he couldn’t see Castiel at all. It took him a little while to find him, but when he did, he found him with Meg-they were sitting side by side, both holding beers, and Castiel was saying something in a low, soft voice, with the sweetest of smiles on his face. Meg was watching him somewhat fondly. Jared had decided it was his duty to go and spoil the mood entirely, so he walked over to them, sat down between them, and slung his arms around their necks, asking, “So what were you talking about, then?”
“You,” Castiel said, and smiled.
And okay, so maybe Jared’s cheeks might have heated up a little bit, but he was definitely not blushing-no matter what Meg said.
Midway through the day, Meg took him to one side-she looked different to when he’d last seen her; older, prettier, and God, had she always been that... grown up? Hell, he barely even recognised the little girl who’d asked for him to tell her stories about the angels; but that little girl was still there. He could see it in her eyes-and he could see it as she cornered him in the kitchen, cutting off his escape route as she rather strategically began the conversation with:
“Well, Castiel seems nice.”
“He is,” Jared answered instantly and somewhat warily.
“How long have you known each other?”
“A while.”
“And how long exactly would you say that is? Weeks, months or years, Jay?”
“Years, Meg.”
“Oh, really? Did you meet him when you were doing Gilmore Girls then?”
“Uh-”
“Or was it before that, hm?”
“I mean-”
“Maybe you met him way before that, right, Jay?”
“Are you going somewhere with this?”
“Maybe you met him years before that. I mean, maybe you met him when you were a kid, right? Maybe you met him when you were, oh, I don’t know, six or seven; in fact, maybe you met him and you just didn’t tell anyone about him, right?” Meg carried on talking over him as if he’d said nothing at all, but she punctuated each word she said with a step forwards, until she was stood directly in front of Jared, her index finger jabbing his chest. “Maybe you met him when he fell from the sky one day.”
Jared considered lying, he really did. In fact, for a full minute, he flustered and blustered his way through almost an entire sentence-but what with the way Meg was looking at him, her eyes narrowed and her finger prodding his chest pointedly, he figured there was probably nothing he could say to make her think any different.
Instead, he let out a resigned sigh.
“When did you find out?”
“I saw something fall from the sky that night, same as you did,” Meg shrugged, but she looked ever so slightly pleased with herself, her lips curling into a small smile as she finished, “But I really found out on that day when I went to borrow that book; d’you remember when I asked you about the angels?”
“Yeah.”
“I saw his wings, Jay.”
“You were a sneaky little kid, weren’t you?”
“Oh, says you-hiding an angel in your room.”
“Point taken.”
“Thank you.”
He grinned, then. “They’re cool, aren’t they?”
“What are?”
“His wings.”
“They were so pretty!”
“Yeah.”
“Is he your boyfriend? That’s what Ma said, but I wasn’t sure-he is an angel, after all. I didn’t think, y’know-angels don’t have boyfriends. Aren’t they, like, married to God or their work or whatever?”
“I think God’s their Pa. At least, Cas always calls him Father.”
“You have a nickname for him?”
“What, Cas? I’ve always called him that.”
“That’s adorable!”
“Oh, shut your face, short-stuff.”
“And he bakes.”
“Shut up.”
“I mean, could you guys get any cuter?”
“I’m not listening to this.”
“You’re like a walking, talking-and in your boyfriend’s case, extremely hot-gay stereotype, you know that, right?”
“Still not listening!”
“I expect a sassy, suitably gay Christmas present off you both, okay?”
In the end, Jared had probably been expecting a hell of a lot more carnage than there had actually been; he supposed that probably had something to do with the fact that there usually was some sort of disaster whenever his family got together for too long, and usually that involved cooking-but when the chicken smelt like burning, Castiel disappeared briefly into the kitchen and, moments later, reappeared with an utterly fine, entirely rescued turkey. That had been pretty awesome of him, in all fairness, but he’d obviously used some of his Grace to do it; his skin had been pale and clammy, and Jared’s Ma had asked, “Honey, are you ill?”
Castiel’s answering smile had been more of a grimace.
That was when Jared began to worry.
all that i'm after is a life full of laughter
as long as i'm laughing with you
Days later, Castiel’s condition hadn’t really improved; he’d stopped using his Grace almost entirely, purely due to the fact that it left him tired, weak and worryingly pale, and Jared couldn’t help but feel anxious about the entire thing. It was when Castiel, after extending his wings for mere seconds, collapsed that Jared finally realised he had to do something-he needed to do something-and because he wasn’t quite sure what else to do, he decided he’d pray. That night, he waited until Castiel was fast asleep before kneeling by the side of his bed, clasping his hands together, and saying:
“I, uh-hey. God. Dear Lord, or something. I mean, I don’t do this often-you’re God, you probably know that; and, I mean, even if you’re not God, you probably know that anyway-but I just... I really need your help. Or a sign. Or a miracle. Whatever it is people ask for in these situations. Cas is-Castiel is-he’s getting weaker and weaker, and I don’t understand why. He was never this bad before; or, if he was, he never-maybe he just didn’t show it, okay, but it’s really worrying me. And it should be worrying you too, whether you’re God or just an angel, but you should be worrying-please. Just... fix him, okay?
Uh.
Amen.”
i'm thinking that all that still matters is a love ever after
after the life we've been through
Jared hadn’t really expected his prayer to be answered. That was much was fairly obvious to himslef-it had been a desperate last hope-but, exactly three days later, an angel knocked on his door. It was pretty anti-climatic, actually; he opened the door and found himself face to face with an absolutely asshat, all blonde hair, swooping v-necks and a self-satisfied smirk. He was leaning against the doorway, jacket riding up as his gaze trailed up and down Jared’s body; then, smirk widening, he said, “Well, hello there-it looks like someone’s thirsty, because that is one tall glass of water.”
“Right. Can I help you?”
“No, not really-but I can help you, and that’s why I’m here. In fact, you asked me to help you.”
“I’ve never met you before in my life.”
“You’re not that bright, are you?”
“Who are you?”
“Hello-angel,” the man said, gesturing pointedly at his face; Jared just narrowed his eyes, and then the man sighed; there was this sudden flash of white light, and then, almost as if illuminated by lightning, Jared saw his wings. They were bigger than Castiel’s-much bigger-and they hurt Jared’s eyes; God, they were so bright. Then, just as quickly as they’d appeared, they were gone again, and the man raised an eyebrow pointedly and asked, “Are you going to let me in now or are you just going to stand there like a brainless moron?”
“The first one,” Jared said, and stepped aside.
He followed the angel into the living room, where Castiel was sat on the sofa; when Jared had left him, he’d been sprawled lazily across it, head rested on the armrest, flicking through different television channels-the moment the door had opened, however, he’d jerked upright and his entire body had become ram-rod straight. Now, he looked at the newcomer with a mixture of shrewd suspicion and amusement, the recognition obvious in the way they looked at each other. Slowly, jerkily, he tilted his head once in acknowledgement.
“Balthazar.”
“Castiel-you do look ill. Sasquatch wasn’t lying.”
“Dude, of course I wasn’t.”
“I am fine,” Castiel said.
“You’re dying,” Balthazar replied, almost too easily-airily, casually, as if he were announcing the weather, and Jared practically froze. In that instant, his eyes couldn’t leave Castiel’s face; he was searching, needing, yearning for the other to just deny it-but when Castiel looked away, lips turning down slightly, Jared felt his heart shatter.
“How long have you known?”
His voice was hoarse.
“Since I fell.”
“That’s why it’s a punishment, isn’t it? It drains you. It kills you. Jesus, Cas-why didn’t you just tell me?”
“What would you have done?” Balthazar spoke then, sounding vaguely interested in a detached manner.
“What could you have done?”
“I-I could have-I…”
He trailed off.
Nothing.
Castiel’s smile was sad.
“I didn’t want to worry you, Jared.”
“You didn’t-you ass.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You-you’re,” Jared repeated, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. He whirled around to face Balthazar, panic coursing through his veins as he demanded, “Fix him. Just-just fix him.”
“I can’t.”
“What?!”
“I don’t have the power, I’m afraid,” Balthazar shrugged, spreading his hands wide. “Look, I’ll be honest with you, Sasquatch-if Castiel stays here, he’ll die. There’s a reason angels don’t come down to Earth, y’know; it’s not exactly our idea of a dream vacation, after all. The moment you land here, it saps you of your Grace, and the longer you stay, the more Grace you lose; essentially, an angel is made up of Grace-when it’s all gone, you’re all gone, if you get what I’m saying. To save Castiel, he’d have to head back up to Heaven to replenish his supply-but he’s lost a hell of a lot. It’d take a life time for him to do that. More specifically, it’d take your life time-give or take a couple of years; I’m a little fuzzy on all the details. No, I can’t do anything, but Heaven can; thing is, our blue-eyed buddy here is a little too weak to make the flight on his own, so I’m here to lend him a wing, really. The decision is up to him.”
Oh.
Oh.
And, in that second, Jared understood.
“Now, I realise it’s a mighty big decision, considering how he’s gone and fallen in love with you-so I’ll give you a week, and no more, and no less. If he stays, he’ll die, but he’ll be with you-and if he leaves, you’ll die without him. It’s Romeo and Juliet-esque. You should be proud. D’you have a spare bed or something? I could use a nap.”
Numbly, as if he wasn’t quite there, Jared pointed Balthazar in the direction of their spare room, but he didn’t move an inch from his spot; he was frozen there, feet rooted to the ground, eyes fixed on Castiel’s face-neither of them could look away from the other. Every glance they’d shared, every kiss, every touch, and Castiel had known-he’d known that it would come down to this, this Catch 22, Sophie’s choice, and shit, Jared had never had to make hard decisions.
Not like these.
Not like this.
“Cas…”
“I am truly sorry, Jared.”
And, in that second, he’d closed the distance between them. All of a sudden, his angel was directly in front of him, breath ghosting across his face as he tilted his head upwards, brushing a stray strand of hair from Jared’s forehead-and then Jared moved his own head to meet him, lips brushing against Castiel’s. The kiss was bittersweet and short and Jared broke apart, stepped away, before he could let it become anything more.
He asked:
“What do we do?”
And Castiel said:
“I don’t know.”
But Jared did know.
A day later, he went to Balthazar and said:
“Take him with you. I don’t care if you have to fight with him-if you have to force him-because he won’t go willingly; he won’t listen to me, no matter how I ask, because I-I made him promise he wouldn’t leave me, and that asshole doesn’t seem to realise that dying still counts, and shit, I’d rather he-he left and lived, than he died to be by my side, so please, just take him with you. Please.”
The angel considered Jared for a moment.
Then he shrugged and smiled and said, “Okay. But if it helps at all, I’d give anything not to have to do this-to either of you.”
It didn’t help.
But the thought was nice.
Castiel must have known as well, because, the day afterwards, when they woke up together, he greeted Jared with a hungry, angry kiss-it was powerful and passionate, and he pressed his palms against his shoulders, keeping Jared pinned to the bed as he crouched above him. Their tongues battled for dominance, but Jared was taking the opportunity to taste and to remember every single inch of his angel, because he’d need to remember, and he could sense that Castiel was doing the same. Teeth clashed, nails raked up and down Jared’s chest, and then his angel pulled back, panting, heartbeat fast, before latching onto Jared’s neck, leaving a red, bruising mark there. Afterwards, he let his head rest against Jared’s chest and Jared wrapped his arms around his angel’s smaller, slighter frame.
He didn’t know how long they lay like that.
It was minutes.
It could have been hours.
It felt like days.
Oh, it felt very much as if their time were running out.
Finally, Castiel said, “I’m sorry.”
“You keep saying.”
“This is a new apology.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“What for this time?”
“I used more of my Grace.”
“Cas-”
“I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t-you mustn’t-Jesus, Cas, stop.”
“It was for you,” Castiel explained, his voice muffled against Jared’s chest. “Balthazar spoke to me; he told me everything you said, and I-no matter how much I understand your decision, I couldn’t agree with it. I cannot bring myself to do that. After-after last time-after everything we’ve been through, you-no, I know you understand, but it pains me too much to leave you again. But I-I understand, okay? But now you must understand-I couldn’t just leave you. I can’t.”
“I-”
“I can’t, Jay.”
“Oh.”
Castiel climbed off him then; he moved across to the bedside table, tugged open the drawer, and pulled out a little velvet box-it was dark blue and small, and when he passed it over to Jared, it fit snug in the palm of his hand. Brow furrowing, he glanced across at Castiel, but the angel gave no indication as to what was inside; his face was impassive and blank, so Jared hesitantly pulled the lid of and found himself gazing at a necklace. Lifting it gently from the box, he saw that it was on a silver chain-it was a little vial, about an inch tall, and full of this dimly glowing substance; it was weird, because it didn’t seem like a solid object. It flowed like water, but it seemed as light as air and it glowed as brightly as the sun.
“This is-”
“My Grace,” Castiel finished for him.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It is only a small fraction-the entirety of it would burn brighter than a thousand suns and sear your eyes.”
“It’s still beautiful.”
“I suppose it is.”
“I can’t-I shouldn’t take this.”
“But I need you to.”
“Okay,” he breathed, and he unhooked the clasp-then, with trembling fingers, he attempted to fasten it around his neck. Eventually, Castiel took the necklace from him and Jared shifted awkwardly in the bed, so that Castiel had better room to manoeuvre, and he let the angel clasp the necklace around his neck. The vial fell hard and heavy against his chest. It felt warm to touch. When his eyes met his angel’s, there was nothing but happiness and love in his eyes and, in that second, Jared thought it was unfair that this man could make him fall in love all over again. He grinned and patted the mattress beside him, and Castiel’s smile was sad as he lay down-it grew sadder still, as he said:
“I am sorry.”
And then:
“I love you, Jared Padalecki.”
And he pressed two fingers against Jared’s forehead and a kiss against Jared’s lips.
After that, everything was black.
When Jared woke up, his angel was gone.
But life marched on.
And Jared marched on with it.
Whenever anyone asked about Castiel, Jared would laugh and shrug it off and come up with some lame, ridiculous excuse; sure, it hurt, but it was what he had to do-he couldn’t just stop living his life. He had to march on-it was what Sam would have done. His Ma only asked once; her voice was soft, ever so quiet, as if she were talking to a frightened animal, and Jared had rewarded her with forced laughter and a shaky, shattered smile. His Ma must have said something, because his Pa only mentioned it once and then never again; and Jeff found out after Jared reacted badly to some meaningless teasing. Meg had held him close and he’d almost cried then, except he hadn’t-couldn’t let himself do it-and she’d told him how sorry she was as though it were supposed to mean something. Chad mentioned it once-asked about how the guy was doing-and Jared had simply replied with, “We don’t talk much anymore. Anyway, how are you?”
Jensen was the only one who never said a word.
He just watched with sad eyes and smiled his sad smile and made Jared’s heart break all over again.
Jared ended up getting married-her name was Genevieve Cortese, and she was everything Sandy had been and just a little more. Pretty and intelligent, she’d come to a film a scene in Supernatural as the second version of the demon Ruby, and oh, how they’d flirted. It was nice to take his mind of things, really. Then, just as quickly, things had spiralled out of control-they’d become more and more serious, until Jared was stood opposite her in a church and thinking that she looked beautiful, and that her eyes were beautiful, but they weren’t quite as beautiful as bright blue.
And as he said his vow-
“I do.”
-his fingers fumbled with the necklace around his neck, and he felt as though it were getting tighter and tighter, as if the chain was choking him-but it was all in his head. Castiel was gone and Jared was married now and his life had moved on. He was just finding it a little hard to move on with it.
“What’s the deal with that necklace, Jay?” Genevieve asked one day, smiling that little smile of hers-it was coy, half-shy and half-mischievous, and he blinked, glancing up at her, startled out of his thoughts. His fingers, as they were apt to do, had been absently fiddling with his necklace, tracing the little vial; sometimes, he imagined he could feel that Grace against his fingertips, as bright and beautiful as his angel had been.
“Huh?”
“That necklace-you never take it off. Fifteen years we’ve been together, and I’ve never seen you without it.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“So what? Did an old flame give it to you or something?”
“I guess you could say that.”
Gen grinned.
“Should I be worried?”
“Probably not,” Jared said, and gazed up at the sky. “I’ve not seen him in a long time.”
“Him?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t mention a him at any point.”
“Didn’t I?”
“No!” Gen sounded affronted, “So spill, Jay. Who was he?”
“He wasn’t from around here.”
“A foreigner!”
“I guess.”
“What did he look like?”
“Uh-pale skinned and dark hair, like Snow White, I guess. And he had these beautiful, brilliant eyes; they were the brightest blue you’d ever seen, Gen, like they held the stars within them and-sorry. I’ll shut up.”
For a while, neither of them said anything.
Then, unable to stop herself, she asked, “Did you love him?”
At first, Jared couldn’t reply.
Then, as he looked at her with heartbreak in his eyes and a sad, sad smile on his lips, he said:
“With all my heart.”
after this time i spent alone
it's hard to believe a man with sight could be so blind
And so Jared grew old without his angel.
It was strange, really-surrounded by so many people he loved, and so many who loved him, it was weird how a man with so much could feel so alone.
Every night, he left his window open.
At thirty-eight, Jared was hit by a car-it was a hit and run case, and the driver had most likely been drunk or young or stupid, or all three, but, nonetheless, that didn’t change anything; Jared still ended up in hospital, hooked up to a ridiculous amount of machines, slipping in and out of a coma. He preferred being in the coma, in all fairness; when he closed his eyes, he could picture Castiel best, without any of the distractions of everyday life, and there was this sort of bliss. It was cruel bliss, though-unfair on him and everyone else, and when he opened his eyes, it was Jensen sat over him, smiling sadly.
“How you doin’, Sasquatch?”
“…m’ back fuckin’ kills.”
“I figured it would,” Jensen said, and he looked a little like Dean, then-his eyes mostly. It was like Dean looking down at Sam, really, as he said, “Your back is broken; if you-when you get better, you’re probably never going to be able to walk again.”
“Tha’ sucks.”
“Yeah, I guess it does.”
“…all sucks.”
“Yeah,” Jensen said, and then again for good measure, “Yeah.”
He closed his eyes.
The doctors said he slipped away in the night.
Good thing, too, because Jared was never really that good at goodbyes.
When he opened his eyes again, there was a bright, bright light-it was so bright, that Jared had to lift his hands to his face to shield his eyes from it, and his free hand instantly moved to the vial against his chest. It wasn’t there. Except, when he looked down, it was there; he could see it, but he couldn’t feel it, and the light grew brighter-oh so brighter-that Jared felt almost as if it were burning up from inside him. He squinted against it, narrowing his eyes in the hope that maybe, just maybe, it would dim slightly.
And then he heard the voice.
It tasted like Sundays curled up on the couch, watching Quentin Tarantino movies from morning until night; it felt like rain splattering against a window pane, fast and furious, and it was cracked and rough, quiet and loud all at once, filling Jared’s whole being. It was decades old, but it sounded so new-and while he knew it could be so powerful, so smooth, so strong, now it was soft and gentle and his.
“Jared.”
Castiel.
The light began to clear.
Rather, the light began to take shape.
That shape had dark hair, pale skin, and the brightest blue eyes, and then arms were circling him, wrapping around him, and that voice whispered, “There was always one star, one angel, watching over you-I never left you, Jared, I promise; I was always with you and I was always watching and oh, you were so brave, and I love you, I really do. I never left you-never.”
No, you didn’t.
“You can speak, Jared.”
He tried.
His throat felt sore, cracked, dry.
The words hurt.
“I-I know, Cas; you never left.”
Their lips clashed together, frantic and furious, as if trying to make up for all the lost years; and their bodies seemed to meld together as one, and all Jared could think was that he was home now, he was back, and oh, his beautiful Castiel, his wonderful Cas-he’d never left. They’d never left each other. And the days they were apart could have been hours or minutes or seconds, not the years they had been, for all it felt like-because there, with his angel in his arms, Jared belonged.
And hey-
Maybe this story could have a happy ending.
fin.