Castiel arrived at her door not long after she'd departed, worried and slightly heartsick; he'd never intended to involve her in something that would bring her such distress. Would never have asked anything of her that would be wrong to give, for his own sake or his friends'. But this was twice now she'd tried to help and it had gone wrong somehow.
He couldn't help but think he must be doing something wrong, failing to foresee and to warn her when her efforts on their behalf were about to backfire.
He tapped softly on the door, but opened it and peered inside without waiting for an answer, entering and shutting the door quietly behind him when he saw her. Back in that shirt of Dean's again, though he knew it held other associations for her.
At least this time she wasn't crying. That had a tendency to unravel him on a level that few other things could, and it was a relief to find that Lorne's wise if unwelcome advice had not upset her that badly.
He crossed the distance between them and drew her close, seeing no need to speak; he had the gist of the situation already, and anything else that she needed him to hear, she would tell him in her own time.
She sighed quietly as he drew her near. “I’m sorry.”
All she had wanted to do was help his adopted family. Twice she tried and twice it had gone wrong. Death was beginning to wonder if that wasn’t a less-than subtle reminder that she shouldn’t have tried to get involved.
Even if it wasn't, she’d still blame herself for upsetting Bobby, and promising help to Sam and Adam more than what she could, in good conscience, deliver.
She understood Lorne’s point, but it was still so wrong. The hypocrisy of it rankled her deeply and she was sure that it bled into her voice when she spoke again. “I can make sure that the boys’ souls aren’t trapped inside the Cage. That’s all that I can,” her lips twisted in annoyance, “that’s all I should do for them.”
"You've nothing to be sorry for." He kissed her hair and ran a hand soothingly up and down her back. "Even that much is more than we have any right to ask. The Universe is not obliged to change its course for us." The others (Dean especially) might need a little time to understand that, but they'd come around.
His touch was a comfort and it went a long way towards easing her jangled nerves. "Someone should be sorry. For everything that you three have fought and suffered and even died for, for everything that they keep throwing at you. Somebody should be, because it's not right. When those boys die, they should at least be taken to where they truly belong. They've earned that much."
"The boys were all but manipulated into existence and set down their path. All of that external interference was allowed, but I can't even give them that one small kindness in death." She let out a small, frustrated sigh. Normally human emotions were a wonderful thing. Tonight.. they were crashing against her larger obligations in ways she had never anticipated.
He drew her over to the bed and sat them down, wishing he had a satisfactory reply. She was right, the system was fundamentally broken, and no one entity could fix it; not even one as powerful as Death. The only way to set things right would be to reorganize things entirely, from top to bottom.
"I'm going to try to change some things, when I return home," he said finally. "But if I succeed," and that was by no means a given, "my influence will still be limited to Heaven. What happens in Hell will be up to whoever seizes control there."
It occurred to him then that he really had no idea who that was going to be. Lucifer was caged again, his thousands of years of carefully-laid plans in ruin, and the upper tiers of his command structure had been dismantled. Castiel had no doubt there were plenty of powerful demons who'd be more than willing to try to fill the power vacuum.
And he and his friends just happened to be confined at Hogwarts with one of them...a demon who, if no more trustworthy or morally upright than any of the others, at least seemed somewhat enlightened in his sense of self-interest. And who appeared to lack the virulent, indiscriminate hatred of all Creation that characterized so many of his peers.
It was past time he had a word with Crowley. And possibly a follow-up consultation with Lorne. The answer to several of their problems, or a sizeable part of it, might be lounging insolently right under all their noses.
"Don't worry. I have some other ideas. It isn't going to be easy, but we'll find a way to make things right for Sam and Adam," he told her.
Death knew about his intent to change things in Heaven, should he ever return. While the prospect of being separated was a painful one, she knew that he would be the one to start to reset the balance. And once Heaven started to swing back into alignment, Hell would eventually follow. It was the way of things.
And again, she would be forced to stand on the sidelines, uninvolved. Death had never felt helpless before. It wasn’t a feeling she liked.
“All of this power,” she looked down at their hands, frustrated and saddened. “I wish I could do more to help you and Sam and Adam. I want to.”
If the consequences had been hers to bear, she would have already acted. Lorne reminded her, rather bluntly, that the consequences wouldn’t just hurt her, they would hurt the ones she loved. And she couldn’t see Castiel hurt. She had made a promise.
He understood that frustration, and also knew that the choice of stepping too far past her boundaries was of far greater consequence than it had been for him. One rank-and-file angel choosing to rebel was significant in its way, but not on a cosmic scale. The personification of Death doing so could potentially render Creation a shambles.
"It's no small thing, keeping them out of that cage," he said softly, not merely as an attempt to comfort her, but because it was absolutely true. "They'd not only be beyond our reach or any hope of escape in there. They'd be caught between Michael and Lucifer."
A faint shudder passed through him at the thought of it. He'd been on the receiving end of an archangel's wrath twice now, only briefly, and he would never forget the sense of terror and utter helplessness it brought. "All those millennia of thwarted rage and pain, backed by the unrestrained power of archangels. Force enough to devastate a planet, and they would have nothing to turn it against except each other, and Sam's soul, and Adam's.
"And the rest of us...we would have to live, and fight on, knowing that they suffered so, and that we were helpless to do anything about it." He ran a finger lightly down the side of her face. "Do not think that sparing all of us such anguish is a trivial matter. Acts of consequence are not always measured by how much power you bring to bear." Pestilence had taught him that. "Sometimes it's just a matter of having the opportunity. And in this case, no one else will."
As much as she wanted to cast all the rules aside and really help Castiel and his adopted family, Death knew that she couldn’t. It simply wasn’t her place. And doing so would upset the balance of things irreparably. She had a greater obligation to those that died; to bear them on to the sunless lands carefully and gently as possible. She couldn’t abandon them.
While she couldn’t help directly, she did know someone who understood the workings of Hell better than any other mortal. He might not appreciate the guests, but he could always fuss at her later over it if he felt the need. She wouldn’t mind if he did, and was careful not to volunteer him for much. John was always a tad cagey when it came to people he didn’t know. “There’s a mage that arrived in Hogwarts awhile back. He’s a friend. Goes by the name of Constantine. John was a friend of my brother’s and he.. might be able to help.”
Castiel also brought the entire matter back into perspective. Saving Sam and Adam from the wrath of two archangels.. that did mean something. They would still be trapped in Hell, but they wouldn’t be subject to such a terrible fate. She managed a small smile at his touch. “You’re right. And I’ll make sure that they don’t land inside the cage. I wish I could do more, but.. it’s a start.”
"Constantine," he repeated. "I believe I've heard the name." Dean or one of the others had mentioned him in passing, at some point. "If you could prevail on him to speak to us, any fresh insights would be welcome.
"And it's more than a start," he murmured, running his hands lightly up her bare arms; as always, her nearness was a difficult distraction to ignore. "It's the key to everything." He leaned in, nuzzling at the curve of her throat. "Without you, any plans we might make would be...idle woolgathering. Pointless."
“I’ll talk to him,” she promised. John could be a little cagey, but Death hoped that if she talked to him first, he could at least be persuaded to lend his expertise to the situation. She didn’t expect him to volunteer to help them directly, but as Castiel told her, even the smallest things could help solve the overall problem and rescue two innocent souls from Hell.
It felt like such a small, inconsequential thing on her part, to collect Sam and Adam mere moments before they became trapped in the cage. But as long as they were free of that prison, Castiel and his friends could plan their rescue. They could do something.
Death tilted her head to the side as Castiel leaned near, murmuring against her skin. She shuddered, a low, indistinct sound escaping her as he nuzzled her neck. The owl she meant to send to Constantine would have to wait until later. Much later. Her arms slid around his torso, fitting her body snugly against him. When he was so near, she was compelled to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin sliding over hers.
Much later. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her thoroughly, seeking as well as offering comfort in the now-familiar trading of touches. The oversize shirt she wore made it easy to slip his arms up underneath, tracing the length of her spine slowly from the small of her back right up to that sensitive spot at the back of her neck, her skin warm and smooth as satin under his seeking fingers.
There was a warm comfort to his embrace and she responded eagerly to it, her own arms coming around his shoulders as he tugged her closer. Her hands moved restlessly in his hair as his fingers glided over her skin. She shuddered and sighed into the kiss as he found that small, sensitive spot at the back of her neck and lingered there.
When the need for air finally drove them to break the kiss, she turned her head, leaving a trail of slow, soft kisses along the length of his jawline.
Pulse quickening, he drew away just enough to pull the fleece sweater over his head and discard it. So much easier than the old confining suit, and getting her out of the t-shirt a moment later was just as effortless.
He shifted and bore her back onto the bed, clasping her close with one arm as he let his free hand wander unhurriedly, covering her face with tender kisses.
There was no part of this that he didn't love, and no moment with her yet that he'd rather have spent elsewhere. It was fortunate he had his family here to keep him grounded and remind him of his larger obligations; without them, he could all too easily have lost himself in her sweetness and stayed that way.
As it was, he could afford to let himself wander for a time, pretending that the path back wasn't tugging at him all the while; and that is what he did.
It took only a few moments of twisting, turning and tugging before the remainder of their clothes were quickly cast aside. Death slid her hand along the curve of his back and down along his hip.
She could easily lose herself for days simply touching his skin. He was warm, solid, and his presence was always such a comfort. His serenity was rapidly becoming a touchstone for her. It didn’t matter how upset she was, he could soothe her with a simple glance or one of those serene little smiles of his.
And one day, she would have to let him go. Castiel had to set Heaven in order, Lorne told her as much. It was his destiny, and he would have to handle it without her beside him.
It was a terribly bitter thing, to find a love she hadn’t even known she was missing, and then be told that one day they would be forced to part.
But that was a worry for another day. For now, she closed her eyes and nuzzled his neck, seeking out those small places that made him shudder with delight. Right now, she had him, and that was all that mattered.
He couldn't help but think he must be doing something wrong, failing to foresee and to warn her when her efforts on their behalf were about to backfire.
He tapped softly on the door, but opened it and peered inside without waiting for an answer, entering and shutting the door quietly behind him when he saw her. Back in that shirt of Dean's again, though he knew it held other associations for her.
At least this time she wasn't crying. That had a tendency to unravel him on a level that few other things could, and it was a relief to find that Lorne's wise if unwelcome advice had not upset her that badly.
He crossed the distance between them and drew her close, seeing no need to speak; he had the gist of the situation already, and anything else that she needed him to hear, she would tell him in her own time.
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All she had wanted to do was help his adopted family. Twice she tried and twice it had gone wrong. Death was beginning to wonder if that wasn’t a less-than subtle reminder that she shouldn’t have tried to get involved.
Even if it wasn't, she’d still blame herself for upsetting Bobby, and promising help to Sam and Adam more than what she could, in good conscience, deliver.
She understood Lorne’s point, but it was still so wrong. The hypocrisy of it rankled her deeply and she was sure that it bled into her voice when she spoke again. “I can make sure that the boys’ souls aren’t trapped inside the Cage. That’s all that I can,” her lips twisted in annoyance, “that’s all I should do for them.”
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"The boys were all but manipulated into existence and set down their path. All of that external interference was allowed, but I can't even give them that one small kindness in death." She let out a small, frustrated sigh. Normally human emotions were a wonderful thing. Tonight.. they were crashing against her larger obligations in ways she had never anticipated.
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"I'm going to try to change some things, when I return home," he said finally. "But if I succeed," and that was by no means a given, "my influence will still be limited to Heaven. What happens in Hell will be up to whoever seizes control there."
It occurred to him then that he really had no idea who that was going to be. Lucifer was caged again, his thousands of years of carefully-laid plans in ruin, and the upper tiers of his command structure had been dismantled. Castiel had no doubt there were plenty of powerful demons who'd be more than willing to try to fill the power vacuum.
And he and his friends just happened to be confined at Hogwarts with one of them...a demon who, if no more trustworthy or morally upright than any of the others, at least seemed somewhat enlightened in his sense of self-interest. And who appeared to lack the virulent, indiscriminate hatred of all Creation that characterized so many of his peers.
It was past time he had a word with Crowley. And possibly a follow-up consultation with Lorne. The answer to several of their problems, or a sizeable part of it, might be lounging insolently right under all their noses.
"Don't worry. I have some other ideas. It isn't going to be easy, but we'll find a way to make things right for Sam and Adam," he told her.
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And again, she would be forced to stand on the sidelines, uninvolved.
Death had never felt helpless before. It wasn’t a feeling she liked.
“All of this power,” she looked down at their hands, frustrated and saddened. “I wish I could do more to help you and Sam and Adam. I want to.”
If the consequences had been hers to bear, she would have already acted. Lorne reminded her, rather bluntly, that the consequences wouldn’t just hurt her, they would hurt the ones she loved. And she couldn’t see Castiel hurt. She had made a promise.
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"It's no small thing, keeping them out of that cage," he said softly, not merely as an attempt to comfort her, but because it was absolutely true. "They'd not only be beyond our reach or any hope of escape in there. They'd be caught between Michael and Lucifer."
A faint shudder passed through him at the thought of it. He'd been on the receiving end of an archangel's wrath twice now, only briefly, and he would never forget the sense of terror and utter helplessness it brought. "All those millennia of thwarted rage and pain, backed by the unrestrained power of archangels. Force enough to devastate a planet, and they would have nothing to turn it against except each other, and Sam's soul, and Adam's.
"And the rest of us...we would have to live, and fight on, knowing that they suffered so, and that we were helpless to do anything about it." He ran a finger lightly down the side of her face. "Do not think that sparing all of us such anguish is a trivial matter. Acts of consequence are not always measured by how much power you bring to bear." Pestilence had taught him that. "Sometimes it's just a matter of having the opportunity. And in this case, no one else will."
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While she couldn’t help directly, she did know someone who understood the workings of Hell better than any other mortal. He might not appreciate the guests, but he could always fuss at her later over it if he felt the need. She wouldn’t mind if he did, and was careful not to volunteer him for much. John was always a tad cagey when it came to people he didn’t know. “There’s a mage that arrived in Hogwarts awhile back. He’s a friend. Goes by the name of Constantine. John was a friend of my brother’s and he.. might be able to help.”
Castiel also brought the entire matter back into perspective. Saving Sam and Adam from the wrath of two archangels.. that did mean something. They would still be trapped in Hell, but they wouldn’t be subject to such a terrible fate. She managed a small smile at his touch. “You’re right. And I’ll make sure that they don’t land inside the cage. I wish I could do more, but.. it’s a start.”
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"And it's more than a start," he murmured, running his hands lightly up her bare arms; as always, her nearness was a difficult distraction to ignore. "It's the key to everything." He leaned in, nuzzling at the curve of her throat. "Without you, any plans we might make would be...idle woolgathering. Pointless."
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It felt like such a small, inconsequential thing on her part, to collect Sam and Adam mere moments before they became trapped in the cage. But as long as they were free of that prison, Castiel and his friends could plan their rescue. They could do something.
Death tilted her head to the side as Castiel leaned near, murmuring against her skin. She shuddered, a low, indistinct sound escaping her as he nuzzled her neck. The owl she meant to send to Constantine would have to wait until later. Much later. Her arms slid around his torso, fitting her body snugly against him. When he was so near, she was compelled to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin sliding over hers.
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When the need for air finally drove them to break the kiss, she turned her head, leaving a trail of slow, soft kisses along the length of his jawline.
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He shifted and bore her back onto the bed, clasping her close with one arm as he let his free hand wander unhurriedly, covering her face with tender kisses.
There was no part of this that he didn't love, and no moment with her yet that he'd rather have spent elsewhere. It was fortunate he had his family here to keep him grounded and remind him of his larger obligations; without them, he could all too easily have lost himself in her sweetness and stayed that way.
As it was, he could afford to let himself wander for a time, pretending that the path back wasn't tugging at him all the while; and that is what he did.
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She could easily lose herself for days simply touching his skin. He was warm, solid, and his presence was always such a comfort. His serenity was rapidly becoming a touchstone for her. It didn’t matter how upset she was, he could soothe her with a simple glance or one of those serene little smiles of his.
And one day, she would have to let him go. Castiel had to set Heaven in order, Lorne told her as much. It was his destiny, and he would have to handle it without her beside him.
It was a terribly bitter thing, to find a love she hadn’t even known she was missing, and then be told that one day they would be forced to part.
But that was a worry for another day. For now, she closed her eyes and nuzzled his neck, seeking out those small places that made him shudder with delight. Right now, she had him, and that was all that mattered.
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