SPN Reverse Bang - 2015
Art Title: The Origins of Love
Prompt Number: S1030
Artist: sammysmitten
Fic Title: The Origins of Love
Author: costsofregret
Fandom/Genre: Angst
Pairing(s): Sam/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~3.5k
Warnings: character death(s)
Summary: Castiel and Sam are connected in a profoundly original way. A journey through the years told from Castiel's POV.
Art Link(s): PromptFic Link(s): LJ
Once upon a time there was a god and that god made an angel. The angel was called by the name Castiel. Angels were there with this god when all life in the dimension began, for the world is not a world but a collection of worlds happening together, at once, defying definitions of it….and when that god made humans for this slice of life he fashioned the human soul from the essence of angels - etching the gospel of existence on the small and miniscule earth from a celestial inkwell.
Castiel stood watch as god pushed a hand through his being and brought back a small globe, shimmering with remnant sunlight. Castiel stared as god threw the light down, watched as it hurdled into the world, taking shape. Each angel, if they listened closely, could try and hear its human’s name. The name was a note in the celestial song, a new sound plucking at life…And Castiel thought, for a brief second he could hear….
September 2008
Soon he would meet him. Again.
May 2009
“Sam?”
Castiel nodded toward the door. The screams from inside were filled with pain. Not the physical kind but the emotional and psychological agony that humans seem particularly vulnerable to. Castiel could hear as Sam struggled against his chains and could hear him talking to the imaginary monsters dancing alongside his bed.
“Yeah.”
Dean Winchester took another drink from the flask. Even in their vessels angels had hypersensitive senses; Castiel even thought perhaps it was an expanded sixth sense. From across the room he could smell the strength of the alcohol. He didn’t say anything. The elder Winchester mourned his brother’s pain more so than anyone….almost.
“He is a good man.” Castiel nodded toward the door. “He was made from god’s light.”
“Well, your god can go fuck himself.” Dean shoved the flask into his coat pocket. “I need to get some air.” Sam’s screams echoed through the basement as Dean hurried up the stairs, the rotting wood groaned under his weight and speed.
Castiel waited for the sound of the front door and then moved to the panic room’s door. He took what would be the human equivalent of a deep breath before pushing through the door. The lock bent easily under his strength.
When he walked in he noted Sam’s thrashing about. His long body strained against the shackles. His head moved back and forth. He was talking about death and destruction to some unknown fantasy figure.
“Shhh….” Castiel laid his hand over the young man’s forehead.
Suddenly Sam’s eyes flew open. They were clear as they cast upon Castiel.
“I know you……”
A strange sensation flooded Castiel and he felt bigger than this fragile human body he occupied. He saw the beginnings of his true form reflect in the young man’s eyes. NO! He thought and tried to contain himself but the flood gates seemed to open.
“I know you….” Sam whispered again and his eyes glowed and Castiel saw his being stark and real in the blue-green depths. Castiel shifted away and he felt the pull, felt as if god was standing there again, reaching into his body and pulling a piece out.
“No.”
“Come back.” Sam screamed but he was screaming again at the imaginary ghosts, the ones who haunted the room, not the one stuck inside Castiel’s migrant spirit.
Hours later Castiel would unlock the door and let Sam fall back into the world.
May 2010
Castiel felt the molecules as they disbanded. He was conscious throughout his disintegration, parts of him flying into and through the air.
“I’ve got him.”
Sam’s words echoed throughout the cemetery and somewhere Castiel could see as once again Sam fell from him.
Please don’t put me back together.
But God didn’t listen. He never does. Castiel let out a silent scream as he felt the particles he was fall back together.
Summer 2010
He knew it was only part of Sam he saved. But he had to save something. He reached down and took a piece of the fallen and felt himself fall as well.
April 2011
A part of him knew of all his crimes against humanity that this one was his worst. It was the crime of self-affliction.
Doing onto Sam was doing onto himself and he whispered his regrets into the crumbling wall.
He pushed Sam into the fall.
May 2011
We know who you are.
Castiel felt the claustrophobia of the souls. They were all locked inside him, stretching him toward infinity, as if he were a string bending but never breaking.
They wandered around and through him but there was one part, one small compartment of his being that was locked away, much like that panic room in Bobby Singer’s basement. Only one could occupy it. Only one could make him complete. They threw themselves against that wall, and how ironic was that, Castiel thought in the one part of his mind that still was individual, on its own. One wall opens while another one comes down.
Through the haze he saw Bobby and Dean try to stop him but it was only when Sam showed up, broken and twisted inside, the monstrosity put into him by none other than Castiel himself. Then all of the things inside him noted how he glowed, how that door shimmered in his being and they turned all of their attention toward Sam.
Don’t you hurt him.
They didn’t…and it was his second last act on Earth.
On the banks of the river he threw himself into the fall.
April 2012
It wasn’t the trenchcoat that brought him back. It wasn’t Dean Winchester. It was the call of his broken half.
There is nothing good in killing one’s own kind.
He found Sam in the corner room, already so far past the point of being saved that his heart, if he could say he had one, ached. Dean, the boy who started the apocalypse, stood watch over Sam and he knew as well as Dean that there are only a few things in the world worth dying for. A child, a lover, a spouse, and a soulmate. But Sam was more - He was every one of those things for Castiel. Without Sam in the world, there was just no world.
He ignored Dean as he reached into Sam’s mind, saw the ravaged soul hunkering down in the fires of hell. This was the pain he wrought those many months ago.
“Sam, come along.”
This time he hoped to restore the full and complete Sam into the world. No harrowing hell for parts, as if Sam were a car needing patched.
He opened himself up and let all of the broken parts flood into him. Everything that was Sam Winchester became Castiel. He let himself dissolve, a pebble turning into a collection of sand inside Sam. He raised his arms, welcoming the baptism, much like he did wading into that pond to take the leviathan away.
Sam formed slowly. Instead of falling to earth, to hell, to all those places away from wholeness, Sam stood and for a second they stared at each other. Both beings one inside.
“I know you…..”
“I am you….”
Then there was nothing….except fragments falling away from the whole.
October 2013
“You love him.”
Castiel glanced up at Benny. They were a few yards behind Dean Winchester. As they drew nearer to what Benny had called “Earth’s Vagina,” he and the vampire had been tasked with rear guard. Benny made ridiculous innuendoes about that name when Dean first mentioned it. The Winchester had simply rolled his eyes and told Benny to ‘shuddup’.
“What?”
“You love him.”
Castiel wasn’t clear on what Benny was trying to say so he ignored the vampire as they trudged through the purgatory forest.
“I ain’t talking about Dean, Angelica.”
Benny had taken to these strange nicknames, uttered through his thick Southern United States accent.
“I mean Sam.”
Castiel stopped in his tracks and stared at the vampire. “I don’t understand you. I love humanity. That’s my job. God told me to.”
“You and me, Cas? We’re monsters.”
“No, you’re a monster. I’m an angel.”
Benny lifted his eyebrow as he said, “Don’t matter. We don’t belong here or there. And you best think about that when you hear Sam’s name and flinch like you get cut.”
Castiel stopped in his tracks. The muted sepia of purgatory made everything seem masked in dried blood. This was the land of monsters, of the things that are somehow deformed in soul and spirit. Maybe he belonged here.
“He is mine.” Castiel finally said, staring at the vampire. “God made him from me.”
“That’s some messed up shit right there.” Benny whistled and trudged on. He continued speaking, low enough that Dean, who was leading at a good distance, couldn’t hear. “God made him from you? What the hell does that mean?”
“All human souls are the remnant of angels….”
“So I have an angel half?” Benny laughed as he kicked a decapitated vampire body from the path.
“You have a better angel, Benny.”
Benny turned and looked at Castiel. “Don’t seem angels ain’t much better than us monsters, don’t you think?”
Castiel was about to respond when Dean yelled out. He was climbing the ridge toward a light.
January 2014
“Don’t try it again, Sam.”
Castiel followed Sam through the bunker’s labyrinthine hallways before ducking in behind Sam as they got to Sam’s bedroom.
Sam flopped down on the bed and laid his arm across his eyes. Castiel knew the younger Winchester was exhausted. He wanted so much to take that burden from Sam but the truth was this was a journey Sam had to face on his own. He had to be the one to expel the last of Gadreel’s grace.
“I’ll let you rest.” Castiel felt awkward standing there, afraid that Sam would think he’d just stand there and watch him sleep. He’d done that before many times but under the cover of night.
“Stay.”
Sam didn’t lift his arm. He pointed his finger toward the chair in the room and Castiel sat there. As an angel he didn’t get bored. As a human he had figured out what torture boredom was, but with grace, there was always activity, always something inside his consciousness, the hum of the angelic being, which was one.
They stayed silent for a long time, or long by human daily standards. After three hours, fifty minutes and twenty two seconds Sam finally spoke.
“He doesn’t get it.”
The “he” was not a surprise or a secret. Dean. Always Dean. Dean, the man who never got it.
“He loves you, Sam. You’re his brother.”
Sam got up, lifting himself on his elbows. “I just wanted to finally let go, Cas.”
The image of a falling light caught Cas’s memory for a moment. It spiraled down and away from him. Would it always do that?
Cas blamed the next thing he did on his time being human. He didn’t know how he got there but all of a sudden he was in Sam’s personal space, their faces near to each other, his hand resting on Sam’s cheek.
“You can’t let go, okay?”
Sam drew in a sharp breath and all the air seemed to crackle in the bedroom. This had been a place they’d never ventured. This personal space had always been off limits. They never touched. Never. But now that they were it felt like eons of missed time condensed itself into one stuttered breath.
Their breaths mingled together and Castiel was reminded of that room inside him, that door that stays locked and guarded.
Lips met and teeth clattered together. From somewhere outside himself, Castiel saw his hand reach out and pull the shirt over Sam’s head. They fell together, limbs and bodies wrapping around each other. He bent his head and traced kisses down Sam’s chest. Sam’s hand tangled in his short hair, tugging at the strands as he closed his lips around Sam. The denim was in the way but he could feel the hardness against his tongue. While he’d been human he’d enjoyed the taste and feel of the flesh, with women and with men. He’d visited brothels and bars and lived the life of Gomorrah for a few weeks before he realized he found only the most distanced and distracted amusement from sexual activity. He grew to miss his angelic perspective, being larger, being more than simple humanity.
Castiel felt Sam turn him and they were chest to back. Sam made short work of their interlude, prepping him before gently but firmly pushing his body into Castiel’s. They didn’t speak. The only sounds filling the room were sharp sighs and hushed moans. It was a slice of heaven - finally Sam was a part of him again. He could never reveal their secret - he was afraid of Sam’s reaction. He knew the man did not remember their time together…not at the beginning, not when Castiel took his illness on himself. Nothing. He was nowhere in Sam, except in moments of delusion or in moments when Sam’s psyche was so broken that he could not help but see reality as it is and not as the human eye makes sense of it.
After he was finished Castiel took the long way back up Sam’s body. He thought about Dean, as he always did.
They tangled their arms together as they fell back onto the bed. The next morning they returned to their work. During the worst of the treatment Sam shot up in his chair and looked straight at Castiel.
Castiel walked over and sat next to him. They sat there in silence until finally Castiel spoke again, “Sam, we have to fix this.”
“I know you….”
Castiel was thrown back into earlier times as Sam reached out and this time not in fear but in wonder. He passed his hand over Castiel’s cheek.
“Show me….”
Castiel did not know what he meant and Sam kept ghosting his palm over Castiel’s arms, chest, face….finally grabbing his wrist and repeating.
“Show me you….”
And that’s when he realized what Sam was asking. He shifted away, his stolen grace still a source of shame and regret.
“Not the real me.” He muttered and pushed Sam back onto the table.
“Take mine.”
“You don’t have enough, Sam.”
Sam reached out but Castiel ignored the gesture and watched as Sam’s hand fell away.
May 2014
“Sam.” Castiel chased the man into his bedroom. He felt like Apollo pursuing the ever disappearing Daphne.
He passed by the room that Dean’s body had been laid in. Dean’s room. But the body was gone, had been gone for days now, with a simple note to let him go.
“We have to find him.” Sam went back to the laptop in his room. He’d set up computers throughout the bunker.
“I can try….” Castiel offered again to use his grace to track Dean but Sam shook his head.
“You’re no good to me dead, Cas.”
Castiel roamed around the bedroom, remembering the last time he’d be in there. He remembered everything clearly and the human part of him ached for that connection again. Sam sat in the middle of the bed, his legs crossed as he huddled over the laptop. Castiel gave into his urge and laid a hand on Sam’s arm.
Sam sat still for several long moments before glancing up. They stared at each other and Castiel leaned down but Sam scooted back, placing his hand on Castiel’s chest.
“No. I can’t. No.” He got up and left the room, the blanket catching on his heel. Castiel watched as the fabric fell softly to the floor.
Sam fell toward Dean and he never came back.
May 2017
Castiel knew the Winchesters would die together. It was appropriate and even though he burned with jealousy that Sam was beside his brother and not at his side in those final moments. He watched as the bullets ripped through their bodies and he knew this time there would be no coming back.
As the others stood, a ragtag group of friends and new allies, Castiel waited for the light hat would emerge from their bodies at the moment of the reaping. For a few brief seconds he saw them as they were and then what they would become….and the light of Sam’s soul took shape and Castiel recognized it and ached to join it.
But he had work left to do….Every fall requires a rising.
At the End of Time
Once upon a time a god made a universe and in this universe angels and humans existed as parts of the great celestial clock, but as all clocks do…time ran out.
“Sam?”
It had been centuries since Sam Winchester walked the earth. Governments had risen and fallen. Humans had destroyed and rebuilt, as humans were inclined to do. And Lucifer had escaped and here they were in the last battle in the final war.
Out of the smoke the Winchesters emerged, looking as young as they did those epochs ago.
“We are activating selected soldiers from heaven.”
Castiel knew Sam Winchester from the moment he was created.
“Cas?”
They stood side by side in the battle even though all of them knew this was the end. Heaven, hell, earth….would all be taken back into the place it began. All things would go back to its beginnings.
In the final moments of battle, when the last soldiers were slaying each other on the field, Sam found his way back to Castiel. The angel lay on the ground, his final breaths wheezing out but still he held out his hand to the young Winchester.
Sam settled next to him. He reached out and touched his cheek.
“I know you.”
“You are me.” Castiel laughed as a cough rocked through his body. He looked over and saw the mortal wound, if one can be mortal on an immortal soul.
“So this is it, I guess.” Sam linked his fingers with Castiel’s and as Death approached, his hunched back lower for some reason, Castiel squeezed Sam’s hand.
Sam had enough energy to move one more time and he laid over Castiel. Their mouths met as Death reached down to touch them and in a great ball of joined light, Sam fell one more time…into Castiel.
And then they were one and then they were no more…..
