from perdition, the winchesters
Title: from perdition, the winchesters
Fandom: Supernatural
- Characters: Castiel
Rating: PG
Summary: Castiel's legacy.
Notes: Concerning the events of Sam and Dean's resurrections from Hell.
Dean Winchester being sent to Hell had all been part of the grand plan of Heaven, a back-up in case John Winchester, an equal vessel of Michael's, did not break. John had not, so Dean selling his soul had been perfect. And perfectly so that Crowley would not break that contract for anything, not wondering for one second that the angels predicted that, too.
Once Dean broke, it was a ten year war in Hell to return him back to Earth. Demons died at angel hands, angels fought to get beyond the magic Enochian barriers where the tortured were kept. Even the demons reluctant to let this fight continue lent to arms, because while chaos was good, chaos in Hell would simply not do. And the angels were pricks.
It had been Michael's assumed destiny to be the one to touch Dean's broken soul, to mark Dean forever and always his. But time was important, too. They could not afford to waste so much of it down below after so much had already passed, so when one insignificant, unknown angel has an opening, he broke ranks and took it.
Dean Winchester needed to rise from perdition.
Michael was otherwise occupied.
There was no more time.
So the little Angel of Thursday raced forward through the tiny gap of golden opportunity and threw his hand on Dean’s shoulder.
And pulled.
--
And that was Castiel's first taste of Choice.
Raising Sam Winchester was not in any book Castiel knew of. The boy was under lock and key with his brother, in a dimension of Hell set aside to keep in anything inside it, tangible or not. But one (Sam) or both (and Adam) needed freeing. He owed Dean that, right? Owed Dean some happiness?
Didn't he?
The fight for Dean was nothing like the battle for Sam. In this instance, Castiel was alone, one angel against the whole of Hell. But also in this instance was there nothing to fight against. No demons barred his way, no Enochian sigils right and left to trap and repel. It was simply him staring at the giant black wall, while demons looked on and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. However, he remained confident. The Winchesters were his responsibility; if anyone could reach in and return to mortality what was once taken, to complete the world, he was sure it was himself, with all his love and affection for his-
Charges.
No one ever touched what was known as the 'sides' of the cage; it was simply you touch it, you enter its nightmare. But there were things that could be done from this side; on Earth, the door was the rings of the Horsemen. But that was the top of the cage. The black, smooth mass of ether in Hell was the bars. To get through the flat, solid top of a cage was nearly impossible without a door. But bars could be bent, just a little, just enough to drag Sam back definitely, and Adam maybe. Just big enough for a human infinitely smaller than an archangel (fallen or not).
And he had the means and determination to see it right.
So when Sam was in sight, just in reach, Castiel, weakened by the struggle against the bars, made the last valiant effort he felt he would ever make and stretched out to grab a hold of Sam's arm.
And slipped.
--
And that was Castiel's first step to damnation.
Fandom: Supernatural
- Characters: Castiel
Rating: PG
Summary: Castiel's legacy.
Notes: Concerning the events of Sam and Dean's resurrections from Hell.
Dean Winchester being sent to Hell had all been part of the grand plan of Heaven, a back-up in case John Winchester, an equal vessel of Michael's, did not break. John had not, so Dean selling his soul had been perfect. And perfectly so that Crowley would not break that contract for anything, not wondering for one second that the angels predicted that, too.
Once Dean broke, it was a ten year war in Hell to return him back to Earth. Demons died at angel hands, angels fought to get beyond the magic Enochian barriers where the tortured were kept. Even the demons reluctant to let this fight continue lent to arms, because while chaos was good, chaos in Hell would simply not do. And the angels were pricks.
It had been Michael's assumed destiny to be the one to touch Dean's broken soul, to mark Dean forever and always his. But time was important, too. They could not afford to waste so much of it down below after so much had already passed, so when one insignificant, unknown angel has an opening, he broke ranks and took it.
Dean Winchester needed to rise from perdition.
Michael was otherwise occupied.
There was no more time.
So the little Angel of Thursday raced forward through the tiny gap of golden opportunity and threw his hand on Dean’s shoulder.
And pulled.
--
And that was Castiel's first taste of Choice.
Raising Sam Winchester was not in any book Castiel knew of. The boy was under lock and key with his brother, in a dimension of Hell set aside to keep in anything inside it, tangible or not. But one (Sam) or both (and Adam) needed freeing. He owed Dean that, right? Owed Dean some happiness?
Didn't he?
The fight for Dean was nothing like the battle for Sam. In this instance, Castiel was alone, one angel against the whole of Hell. But also in this instance was there nothing to fight against. No demons barred his way, no Enochian sigils right and left to trap and repel. It was simply him staring at the giant black wall, while demons looked on and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. However, he remained confident. The Winchesters were his responsibility; if anyone could reach in and return to mortality what was once taken, to complete the world, he was sure it was himself, with all his love and affection for his-
Charges.
No one ever touched what was known as the 'sides' of the cage; it was simply you touch it, you enter its nightmare. But there were things that could be done from this side; on Earth, the door was the rings of the Horsemen. But that was the top of the cage. The black, smooth mass of ether in Hell was the bars. To get through the flat, solid top of a cage was nearly impossible without a door. But bars could be bent, just a little, just enough to drag Sam back definitely, and Adam maybe. Just big enough for a human infinitely smaller than an archangel (fallen or not).
And he had the means and determination to see it right.
So when Sam was in sight, just in reach, Castiel, weakened by the struggle against the bars, made the last valiant effort he felt he would ever make and stretched out to grab a hold of Sam's arm.
And slipped.
--
And that was Castiel's first step to damnation.