[Castiel did belong to Dean. More then the Winchester could ever understand. It was part of the problem, really. Castiel was so loyal, so dedicated to the older brother that the angel put his own safety at risk. He placed his own morals on the line. Castiel didn't want to work with Crowley but if it meant once less battle that Dean Winchester would have to fight then Castiel was in. He was there. He couldn't let Dean fight his wars anymore, he just couldn't.
Not when Dean could be put at risk. Not when he could die.
Lord, hadn't this man suffered enough?
So the angel feigns indifference. He becomes cold, unflinching when Dean storms out of the room and kicks the door closed. He can hear the echos of the hunters angry stomps up the stairs through the roof of the panic room. Castiel gaze follows the sound of footsteps before they disappear on to the second floor.
And now Castiel was truly trapped. True to loyalty he didn't attempt to escape. Instead he stayed in the panic room, moving every so often as he thought about the current problems and risks that Raphael would bring upon this world. When Dean returned downstairs with a plate of food he would be walking in on Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands folded to his forehead and his eyes closed softly. He was praying silently, asking- no begging- for guidance from his father. Castiel was so lost he didn't know what to do. The angel prayed, and prayed, and then prayed some more before his eyes opened and he stared forward, not looking at the door.]
[If Dean truly understood that Cas was doing all of this for him, he might hate himself a little. Well... a little more. Everything he's ever tried to teach Cas, everything they've done together, all the morals he's learned and rebelled for... It's the complete opposite of this. It isn't Dean that's worth fighting for, it's humanity. It's keeping all these 'supreme forces' from making choices for humanity, and letting humans handle their lives. Their futures.
It's doing the right thing. It's doing good. Working with Crowley? Taking these chances? Taking these liberties, seizing them simply because he had the power to? That's... Dean's taught him wrong. He's done something wrong. Maybe if he'd tried harder with Cas, maybe if he took the time to sit down with the angel...
It's too late for that, now. Maybes aren't going to accomplish shit.
Dean wasn't surprised to see Cas praying. Even after God left, told them he didn't care, Dean's sure a part of Cas still thinks he had a hand in it all, in making sure they all lived to see and avoid the apocalypse.]
Yeah, well. Maybe you should every once in a while. I liked you better when you were going native.
[Really, the closest he's ever felt to Cas was when he was becoming human. Not that he'd ever wish for Cas to Fall, to lose his grace, not for Dean's sake, but... Well, if it weren't for all the shit happening then, if it weren't for Cas's suffering and feeling lost, maybe...
He just thinks things could have been good. Between them.
He strides into the room, once again pointedly ignoring the fact that on this side of the threshold, Cas could pretty much destroy him, and sits down on the edge of the bed. As far away from Cas as space will allow, but he's still there. He holds the plate out.]
I get that it's like nine at night, but breakfast is really all I can cook. And no matter what anyone says, it's always a good time for bacon.
[Stop thinking that way, Dean Winchester. Sometimes you can not save everyone, especially when they do not want to be saved. Castiel knew the risks, he knew what he was doing and he would still do the same because Dean was at risk, and when Dean was at risk the rest of humanity was as well.
Castiel couldn't allow Raphael to undo all the work 'team freewill' had suffered to fix. He wouldn't. The angel already messed up so greatly when he brought Sam back with out his soul, now it was time to fix things. It was Castiels responsibility. If he died in the process then... so be it.
The angel knew that God wasn't listening. He didn't know if his prayers were out of habit or for the fact he really truly hoped that God would help him one of these days.
It was a foolish belief, he knew.
Castiel narrowed his eyes when Dean said that. How could Dean say that? That time was absolutely miserable for the angel. There was nothing worse then feeling your grace slowly slip away inch by inch and being unable to do anything about it.]
Forgive me, that was not one of my favorite moments.
[The angel watched Dean cross the room once again trusting the fact that Castiel would not attack him. The hunter held out the plate to him and Cas took it, his eyes falling on the contents of his meal.]
[Dean would argue that he'd be at risk in both scenarios. Call him selfish, but losing his best friend is not something he's willing to risk. Aside from Sam, Cas was the most important person to him in the world. The difference? Sam was programmed to be that way. It was who he was. Cas was that way because Dean chose to let him be. That just doesn't happen with him. Not ever.
This can't be happening.
He's not going to let it.
He ducked his head at the narrowed eyes, guilt rushing through him immediately.]
Shit- not like that, Cas. It really... sucked, knowing how much that hurt you, how much you hated it. It's just- I don't know. You were becoming your own person, feeling shit and eating things and just... being around more. Really felt like...
[He shrugged a shoulder and leaned back on the bed, resting it against the metal headrest.]
Tell me what you want. Tell me anything else we can do, and I'll do it with you. Seriously. You want me to do a wrestling match with Death, I'm in. You want me to do naked yoga chant sacrifices to God or whatever, yeah, sure, I'm your guy. I'd let you wear my meatsuit up to heaven if you asked, I'm begging you. Find another way. Anything but this. This is the wrong path. You gotta trust me.
[It was a sacrifice Castiel was more then happy to make, if it meant that Dean would be safe. That the world would be. Dean Winchester meant more to Castiel then the angel could ever even fathom. Dean taught Castiel free will, the angel would gladly throw himself in the life of fire for the hunter.
Which was what he was doing now.
Cas poked at the bacon and eggs with his fork, focusing on the plate in front of him so he wouldn't have to look at Dean.]
I was falling.
[Castiel corrected.]
I was losing everything I had ever known. I was changing because I was being punished.
[The angel tried to ignore the guilt that settled in his stomach when Dean mentioned that Cas had been around more back then. Dean was happy with his family, or so Cas thought, the angel kept his distance for an entire year because he did not want to mess things up for the hunter. It seemed that it didn't matter because Castiel just managed to mess it up anyways.
Sighing, Cas placed the fork back down on the plate. The lengths that Dean was willing to go ... it was touching, really. But Castiel had to remain cold, cut the hunter off because this was for the good of world.]
There is no other way, please believe that. Raphael already destroyed me before. I'm not strong enough. This is the only option.
[Risking Cas for Dean's safety? No. Absolutely not. Out of the question. He'd rather be demon chow than let that happen to Cas. Or Sam. When someone starts ranking as high as Sam on the Dean Winchester Scale of Importance, it means something. It means a lot.
He watched Cas move food around his plate rather than looking at the angel's face, because it was easier. He wasn't good at being open, being emotional, he wasn't good at asking for things.
But he'd damn sure learn, because Cas was worth saving.
His fingers played absently with the outer seam of his jeans, where he could feel the metal of a lockpick.]
Yeah, you keep sayin' that. I wanna tell you a story, Cas.
[He muttered it darkly under his breath, then shifted back to cross his arms. His head dropped a little, chin almost to his chest, and he stared at the blanket.]
Once upon a time, there was this stupid little kid that always did everything right. He'd rescue cats, help people, hell, he was practically walking wheels on meals. This one time, there was a dog that'd been hit by a car on the side of the road. Little bastard made me pull over so he could bandage the leg. Drove thirty five goddamn miles to the nearest animal hospital.
The kid was a friggin' saint. Thought he could save the world.
[He blew out a low breath.]
When that kid figured out he had power, naturally he figured he use it to make the world a better place. He started going down a slippery slope, drinking demon blood, doing more and more questionable things in the name of the greater good. Because he was good. But what he was doing? Sure as fuck wasn't.
[He looked up at Cas seriously, eyes intense.]
And no matter how many goddamn people told him it, he was convinced was right. But let me tell you something about good intentions, Cas. They pave the road to hell. Sam lost control, got so wrapped up in doing the right thing that he started ignoring all of the shitty, terrible things he was doing in the process, and then he started the god damn apocalypse.
[Why was Dean making this so much harder then it already was? Castiel was doing his duty as the Winchesters guardians, he was assuring that no harm came to both Dean and Sam. The angel had already done enough damage by raising Sam from the pit with out his soul in tact.
Cas needed to fix this, he couldn't allow Raphael to gain the upper hand. He wouldn't.
It pained Castiel to see Dean trying so hard, trying to be loyal and show Castiel the errors of his ways but the problem was that there were no errors. This was the way that it had to be. And if Castiel died in the process then so be it. It was worth it if it meant Dean and Sam Winchester were still alive.
The understanding approach wasn't working. He'd have to go with a new tactic, as much as it pained him to do so. The angel was silent as he listened to the story before his eyes met those of Dean. The angel tensed his jaw before setting a cold stare back.]
If I remember correctly it was you who started the apocalypse by wielding to Alistair and torturing soul in hell.
[Cas swallowed, dropping his gaze.]
Sam was only a human, I'm an angel. I can control this. And you find my decision to be so wrong yet you offer no other solutions because there aren't any. Dean, I have no choice. If I don't do this then Raphael wins and the earth is destroyed. I have to save the planet we had fought so hard to protect. I refuse to let it burn to the ground because I was unwilling to make the sacrifice that was needed to survive.
[Why wasn't it working? Why wasn't anything working? There had to be some right combination of words, some right... something? He's not going to mess this one up- not like he fucks up every other important thing in his life. Every job he's ever had, every person he's ever been with, every time he's been presented with the chance to keep things from going south, he's failed.
Every.
Single.
God damned.
Time.
But not this time. He can't let it happen this time. He has time, he's got this room holding Cas in place, he's got a grip on his temper, he's certain of the right path, he's got all of the ingredients to fix this.
So why isn't it working?
Why can't he keep this one? This one person? Please.
Cas's words cut like a knife, and he draws back a little, eyes flashing hurt and jaw tensing in fruitless defiance. Because it's the truth.
The muscles below his ears twitch once, twice.]
Yeah. It was. It was a mistake, and you saved me. Now I'm trying to return the favor. Don't let this be your Rack, Cas. Don't let Crowley be your Alistair.
[Oh Dean. Poor Dean. It isn't anything you're doing wrong, its just that some people don't want to be saved. Castiel... doesn't want to be saved. This is his duty, his mission, to take on this sacrifice so you wouldn't have to. Cas was sound in mind and body and he knew what he was doing.
He was saving the world.
Castiel had to, he had to do this. There was no chance in fighting Raphael on his own. There was no way to go back. Crowley held the answer, and when Castiel took on the souls of Purgatory he would be strong enough to finally put an end to Raphaels reign of terror.
You have no idea how Castiel prayed that things would be different. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to lie and betray Dean and Sam. He just... had to.
The angel lifted his gaze back up to meet those greens of Deans and he tilted his head ever so slightly.]
I was under orders. I'm an angel, what I am doing is right and just. It.. must be done.
[He doesn't want to be saved? Dean didn't want to be saved. He fought, down there in the pit. Most of it is blurry, but he remembers knowing he deserved to be down there. He remember there was a woman on the rack, with her ribcage split open, and her heart was still beating. He could see the muscles pulling and contracting, and she was pleading to deaf ears. He didn't want to be saved.
Why does Cas get a choice?
Why can Dean never be selfish?
He scrubbed a hand over his face, and shoved off of the bed.]
Eat your food.
[He muttered absently pacing toward the door and then back again.
It's like he's being faced with two locked doors, here. The only two exits in the hallway, and they were both barred. Cas refused to opt out of this fucked up plan, and Dean refused to let the alternative happen. His own righteous moral compass refused to support this shit.
It was like the situation with Michael all over again. A voice in his head screaming say yes, say yes, say yes say yes-
He was broken, back when he decided to agree.
Maybe he's a little bit broken now.
He crossed the threshold and grabbed a bottled water from one of the twelve packs Bobby kept down there for emergencies. Twisted off the top and came back. Sloshed it over a cleaning rag, and began to scrub slowly at one of the spray-painted symbols near the door.]
[Castiel hardly has a choice. He has to do this. Don't you think he'd rather be on earth, with Sam and Dean, solving cases and helping them rather then betraying their trust every damn time? Castiel had no choice in the matter. He had to do this or else everything they fought for, all the sacrifices they had made, would be rendered useless. It would all be for naught and Castiel could not allow that to happen. He refused to.
The angel wants so badly to relent, to succumb to Deans wishes and believe there is another way but he can't because there isn't.
Dean, Castiel loved you before he even understood what love was.
The food remained untouched but the angel watched Dean none the less. Watched him pace, think, look upset. It was ironic that this was just like the situation with Dean and Michael. And it took Sams unwilling faith in Dean that would make the man see light of day. On this case it wouldn't work. There was just no other option.
Dean began to wash away the wards from the wall and Castiel stood. He walked silently over to where Dean was and rested his hand over Deans wrist, stopping the motion in place. The angel swallowed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the bone jut of Deans back.Oh how he wished this were different. How he prayed. His voice was soft, in a barely there whisper and cracked at the end of his declaration as he squeezed Deans wrist with a shaky touch.]
[Does he think the angel would be rather down on Earth with them? Does he think Cas would rather be down in the mud, running from motel to motel? Does he think Cas would rather be with him when everyone else runs away?
No.
He doesn't think that at all.
And he doesn't think Cas has to, either. Because they fought for choice. Cas doesn't have to do a god damn thing. He just is, because he's an angel, and no matter how different he thought Cas to be, angels apparently only operate in absolutes. They operate in finalities, fatalities, they operate in ends. And they operate in their Holy Divine Judgement being better, smarter, stronger than any stupid choice these little humans on this little planet could make. Because they're only human, right? They couldn't possibly fight for themselves.
They couldn't possibly win. Because they're not angels. Because Dean's not an angel. Because he's not good enough. Or strong enough.
Fuck that.
Cas's touch against his back makes him freeze, shoulders locking in place, hand stiffening beneath Cas's fingers.
Despite all of this, the situation, his stupid wretched fucking retarded heart gives a painful squeeze at the touch, reminding him of feelings he'd never had the time to analyze- feelings that were rendered completely irrelevant, completely null and fucking void thanks to this situation. Thanks to Cas's choice.
It hurts. It hurts that not only is he losing Cas, he's losing him at the height of the realization of just how much he loves the stupid fucking angel. Lemon juice on a paper cut.
One final fucking cosmic laugh at Dean Winchester as he gives up.
He stays still beneath Cas's fingers for maybe three seconds too long before he snaps into action, shoving at the other's chest and then punching him solidly in the fucking jaw.
Which, yeah, no, he knew it would hurt before he did it, and he's probably just broken a few fingers, but he doesn't flinch or acknowledge it. Instead, he drops his eyes immediately after, to somewhere just to the left of Cas's shoulder, jaw tensing and locking and unlocking as words swell in his throat.]
You.
[He shakes his head just an inch, and if his eyes are shining...
Whatever.
He's just so fucking.
He's just so fucking done.
With all of it. That's it. He's done. Fuck the world, fuck saving it again, fuck trusting-]
Don't. Just. Don't. You never-
[He can't even make the words come out, now. Can't explain how angry he is, how Cas doesn't get to apologize for something that he's perfectly capable of stopping. How angry he is that he's losing the angel, how he doesn't get to just use Dean's feelings for him like that, how he can't feel sympathy, or sadness, because he might just shatter into a thousand pieces the moment he lets himself crack.
How he's not going to beg, but he would if he thought it would matter. But it wouldn't. Because he doesn't.
[Oh, Castiel would. He so would. That is his paradise, staying on earth with the Winchesters. Laughing over a beer. It would be the thing Castiel dreamed of if he could but that dream was miles away. It was unattainable. Pointless. Castiel would never have that relief, he was an angel burdened with the duty of saving the planet. He would die in this fight and that was okay, it was alright as long as Dean and Sam could go on living.
Castiel has accepted his mortality. His life for the life of the planet. It seemed a fair enough trade.
Human beings and incredibly resilient, they prove themselves time and time again but they can not withstand the force that is Raphael. It was impossible. I'm sorry Dean but it just was.
The hand rested on Deans wrist for maybe a heart beat or two before Dean is whipping around and slamming his fist in to the angels jaw. True to form Castiel does not stumble back but his jaw ticks to the side. The hit... it didn't hurt physically but it nearly broke the angels heart in two. Castiel slowly raised a hand to his jaw, touching the red spot on his skin. He curled his fingers there, closing his eyes as Dean growled at him. One last touch. One last memory...
The angel opened his eyes and looked back at Dean, they were equal in shine. He looked absolutely wrecked, destroyed, because this was happening. This was happening to them. The angel swallowed fighting back the emotion when Dean turned back to the wall. There was something he wanted to say, always something but... there was no point now. It was useless. Castiel....
[Dean would argue that Cas made his choice, but... well, he's done arguing. He's just... finished. Fighting. There where times when he'd considered it before, just giving up, but with Sam there, with Cas there to believe in him...
Maybe they'd been lying, or maybe he's just proven them wrong.
It doesn't matter.
He doesn't turn around at the sound of fluttering wings, because he knows what it means. Angels always suck at saying goodbye.
He keeps scrubbing the wall. The panic room is coated with them- Enochian and pagan symbols of entrapment, shit from the bible, shit from Balthazar, shit Cas himself taught Dean, coating everything like graffiti.
And Dean's going to remove every trace of it.
He doesn't feel it when hot warmth streaks down his cheeks, or when his knuckles crack and fingertips bleed, or when the rag starts to fray and tear.
By the time he's done, there isn't a spec of paint on the walls.
Apart from the scar on his arm, there's no proof Cas was ever there.
He wonders if he'd scrub that away, too, if he could.
He decides to sit down on the small cot there until he comes up with an answer.
Not when Dean could be put at risk. Not when he could die.
Lord, hadn't this man suffered enough?
So the angel feigns indifference. He becomes cold, unflinching when Dean storms out of the room and kicks the door closed. He can hear the echos of the hunters angry stomps up the stairs through the roof of the panic room. Castiel gaze follows the sound of footsteps before they disappear on to the second floor.
And now Castiel was truly trapped. True to loyalty he didn't attempt to escape. Instead he stayed in the panic room, moving every so often as he thought about the current problems and risks that Raphael would bring upon this world. When Dean returned downstairs with a plate of food he would be walking in on Castiel sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands folded to his forehead and his eyes closed softly. He was praying silently, asking- no begging- for guidance from his father. Castiel was so lost he didn't know what to do. The angel prayed, and prayed, and then prayed some more before his eyes opened and he stared forward, not looking at the door.]
... You needn't do that. You know I do not eat.
Reply
It's doing the right thing. It's doing good. Working with Crowley? Taking these chances? Taking these liberties, seizing them simply because he had the power to? That's... Dean's taught him wrong. He's done something wrong. Maybe if he'd tried harder with Cas, maybe if he took the time to sit down with the angel...
It's too late for that, now. Maybes aren't going to accomplish shit.
Dean wasn't surprised to see Cas praying. Even after God left, told them he didn't care, Dean's sure a part of Cas still thinks he had a hand in it all, in making sure they all lived to see and avoid the apocalypse.]
Yeah, well. Maybe you should every once in a while. I liked you better when you were going native.
[Really, the closest he's ever felt to Cas was when he was becoming human. Not that he'd ever wish for Cas to Fall, to lose his grace, not for Dean's sake, but... Well, if it weren't for all the shit happening then, if it weren't for Cas's suffering and feeling lost, maybe...
He just thinks things could have been good. Between them.
He strides into the room, once again pointedly ignoring the fact that on this side of the threshold, Cas could pretty much destroy him, and sits down on the edge of the bed. As far away from Cas as space will allow, but he's still there. He holds the plate out.]
I get that it's like nine at night, but breakfast is really all I can cook. And no matter what anyone says, it's always a good time for bacon.
Reply
Castiel couldn't allow Raphael to undo all the work 'team freewill' had suffered to fix. He wouldn't. The angel already messed up so greatly when he brought Sam back with out his soul, now it was time to fix things. It was Castiels responsibility. If he died in the process then... so be it.
The angel knew that God wasn't listening. He didn't know if his prayers were out of habit or for the fact he really truly hoped that God would help him one of these days.
It was a foolish belief, he knew.
Castiel narrowed his eyes when Dean said that. How could Dean say that? That time was absolutely miserable for the angel. There was nothing worse then feeling your grace slowly slip away inch by inch and being unable to do anything about it.]
Forgive me, that was not one of my favorite moments.
[The angel watched Dean cross the room once again trusting the fact that Castiel would not attack him. The hunter held out the plate to him and Cas took it, his eyes falling on the contents of his meal.]
...This was unnecessary, but thank you.
Reply
This can't be happening.
He's not going to let it.
He ducked his head at the narrowed eyes, guilt rushing through him immediately.]
Shit- not like that, Cas. It really... sucked, knowing how much that hurt you, how much you hated it. It's just- I don't know. You were becoming your own person, feeling shit and eating things and just... being around more. Really felt like...
[He shrugged a shoulder and leaned back on the bed, resting it against the metal headrest.]
Tell me what you want. Tell me anything else we can do, and I'll do it with you. Seriously. You want me to do a wrestling match with Death, I'm in. You want me to do naked yoga chant sacrifices to God or whatever, yeah, sure, I'm your guy. I'd let you wear my meatsuit up to heaven if you asked, I'm begging you. Find another way. Anything but this. This is the wrong path. You gotta trust me.
Reply
Which was what he was doing now.
Cas poked at the bacon and eggs with his fork, focusing on the plate in front of him so he wouldn't have to look at Dean.]
I was falling.
[Castiel corrected.]
I was losing everything I had ever known. I was changing because I was being punished.
[The angel tried to ignore the guilt that settled in his stomach when Dean mentioned that Cas had been around more back then. Dean was happy with his family, or so Cas thought, the angel kept his distance for an entire year because he did not want to mess things up for the hunter. It seemed that it didn't matter because Castiel just managed to mess it up anyways.
Sighing, Cas placed the fork back down on the plate. The lengths that Dean was willing to go ... it was touching, really. But Castiel had to remain cold, cut the hunter off because this was for the good of world.]
There is no other way, please believe that. Raphael already destroyed me before. I'm not strong enough. This is the only option.
Reply
He watched Cas move food around his plate rather than looking at the angel's face, because it was easier. He wasn't good at being open, being emotional, he wasn't good at asking for things.
But he'd damn sure learn, because Cas was worth saving.
His fingers played absently with the outer seam of his jeans, where he could feel the metal of a lockpick.]
Yeah, you keep sayin' that. I wanna tell you a story, Cas.
[He muttered it darkly under his breath, then shifted back to cross his arms. His head dropped a little, chin almost to his chest, and he stared at the blanket.]
Once upon a time, there was this stupid little kid that always did everything right. He'd rescue cats, help people, hell, he was practically walking wheels on meals. This one time, there was a dog that'd been hit by a car on the side of the road. Little bastard made me pull over so he could bandage the leg. Drove thirty five goddamn miles to the nearest animal hospital.
The kid was a friggin' saint. Thought he could save the world.
[He blew out a low breath.]
When that kid figured out he had power, naturally he figured he use it to make the world a better place. He started going down a slippery slope, drinking demon blood, doing more and more questionable things in the name of the greater good. Because he was good. But what he was doing? Sure as fuck wasn't.
[He looked up at Cas seriously, eyes intense.]
And no matter how many goddamn people told him it, he was convinced was right. But let me tell you something about good intentions, Cas. They pave the road to hell. Sam lost control, got so wrapped up in doing the right thing that he started ignoring all of the shitty, terrible things he was doing in the process, and then he started the god damn apocalypse.
Reply
Cas needed to fix this, he couldn't allow Raphael to gain the upper hand. He wouldn't.
It pained Castiel to see Dean trying so hard, trying to be loyal and show Castiel the errors of his ways but the problem was that there were no errors. This was the way that it had to be. And if Castiel died in the process then so be it. It was worth it if it meant Dean and Sam Winchester were still alive.
The understanding approach wasn't working. He'd have to go with a new tactic, as much as it pained him to do so. The angel was silent as he listened to the story before his eyes met those of Dean. The angel tensed his jaw before setting a cold stare back.]
If I remember correctly it was you who started the apocalypse by wielding to Alistair and torturing soul in hell.
[Cas swallowed, dropping his gaze.]
Sam was only a human, I'm an angel. I can control this. And you find my decision to be so wrong yet you offer no other solutions because there aren't any. Dean, I have no choice. If I don't do this then Raphael wins and the earth is destroyed. I have to save the planet we had fought so hard to protect. I refuse to let it burn to the ground because I was unwilling to make the sacrifice that was needed to survive.
Reply
Every.
Single.
God damned.
Time.
But not this time. He can't let it happen this time. He has time, he's got this room holding Cas in place, he's got a grip on his temper, he's certain of the right path, he's got all of the ingredients to fix this.
So why isn't it working?
Why can't he keep this one? This one person? Please.
Cas's words cut like a knife, and he draws back a little, eyes flashing hurt and jaw tensing in fruitless defiance. Because it's the truth.
The muscles below his ears twitch once, twice.]
Yeah. It was. It was a mistake, and you saved me. Now I'm trying to return the favor. Don't let this be your Rack, Cas. Don't let Crowley be your Alistair.
Reply
He was saving the world.
Castiel had to, he had to do this. There was no chance in fighting Raphael on his own. There was no way to go back. Crowley held the answer, and when Castiel took on the souls of Purgatory he would be strong enough to finally put an end to Raphaels reign of terror.
You have no idea how Castiel prayed that things would be different. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to lie and betray Dean and Sam. He just... had to.
The angel lifted his gaze back up to meet those greens of Deans and he tilted his head ever so slightly.]
I was under orders. I'm an angel, what I am doing is right and just. It.. must be done.
Reply
Why does Cas get a choice?
Why can Dean never be selfish?
He scrubbed a hand over his face, and shoved off of the bed.]
Eat your food.
[He muttered absently pacing toward the door and then back again.
It's like he's being faced with two locked doors, here. The only two exits in the hallway, and they were both barred. Cas refused to opt out of this fucked up plan, and Dean refused to let the alternative happen. His own righteous moral compass refused to support this shit.
It was like the situation with Michael all over again. A voice in his head screaming say yes, say yes, say yes say yes-
He was broken, back when he decided to agree.
Maybe he's a little bit broken now.
He crossed the threshold and grabbed a bottled water from one of the twelve packs Bobby kept down there for emergencies. Twisted off the top and came back. Sloshed it over a cleaning rag, and began to scrub slowly at one of the spray-painted symbols near the door.]
Reply
The angel wants so badly to relent, to succumb to Deans wishes and believe there is another way but he can't because there isn't.
Dean, Castiel loved you before he even understood what love was.
The food remained untouched but the angel watched Dean none the less. Watched him pace, think, look upset. It was ironic that this was just like the situation with Dean and Michael. And it took Sams unwilling faith in Dean that would make the man see light of day. On this case it wouldn't work. There was just no other option.
Dean began to wash away the wards from the wall and Castiel stood. He walked silently over to where Dean was and rested his hand over Deans wrist, stopping the motion in place. The angel swallowed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the bone jut of Deans back.Oh how he wished this were different. How he prayed. His voice was soft, in a barely there whisper and cracked at the end of his declaration as he squeezed Deans wrist with a shaky touch.]
I'm sorry.
Reply
No.
He doesn't think that at all.
And he doesn't think Cas has to, either. Because they fought for choice. Cas doesn't have to do a god damn thing. He just is, because he's an angel, and no matter how different he thought Cas to be, angels apparently only operate in absolutes. They operate in finalities, fatalities, they operate in ends. And they operate in their Holy Divine Judgement being better, smarter, stronger than any stupid choice these little humans on this little planet could make. Because they're only human, right? They couldn't possibly fight for themselves.
They couldn't possibly win. Because they're not angels. Because Dean's not an angel. Because he's not good enough. Or strong enough.
Fuck that.
Cas's touch against his back makes him freeze, shoulders locking in place, hand stiffening beneath Cas's fingers.
Despite all of this, the situation, his stupid wretched fucking retarded heart gives a painful squeeze at the touch, reminding him of feelings he'd never had the time to analyze- feelings that were rendered completely irrelevant, completely null and fucking void thanks to this situation. Thanks to Cas's choice.
It hurts. It hurts that not only is he losing Cas, he's losing him at the height of the realization of just how much he loves the stupid fucking angel. Lemon juice on a paper cut.
One final fucking cosmic laugh at Dean Winchester as he gives up.
He stays still beneath Cas's fingers for maybe three seconds too long before he snaps into action, shoving at the other's chest and then punching him solidly in the fucking jaw.
Which, yeah, no, he knew it would hurt before he did it, and he's probably just broken a few fingers, but he doesn't flinch or acknowledge it. Instead, he drops his eyes immediately after, to somewhere just to the left of Cas's shoulder, jaw tensing and locking and unlocking as words swell in his throat.]
You.
[He shakes his head just an inch, and if his eyes are shining...
Whatever.
He's just so fucking.
He's just so fucking done.
With all of it. That's it. He's done. Fuck the world, fuck saving it again, fuck trusting-]
Don't. Just. Don't. You never-
[He can't even make the words come out, now. Can't explain how angry he is, how Cas doesn't get to apologize for something that he's perfectly capable of stopping. How angry he is that he's losing the angel, how he doesn't get to just use Dean's feelings for him like that, how he can't feel sympathy, or sadness, because he might just shatter into a thousand pieces the moment he lets himself crack.
How he's not going to beg, but he would if he thought it would matter. But it wouldn't. Because he doesn't.
He scrubs at the wall.]
Reply
Castiel has accepted his mortality. His life for the life of the planet. It seemed a fair enough trade.
Human beings and incredibly resilient, they prove themselves time and time again but they can not withstand the force that is Raphael. It was impossible. I'm sorry Dean but it just was.
The hand rested on Deans wrist for maybe a heart beat or two before Dean is whipping around and slamming his fist in to the angels jaw. True to form Castiel does not stumble back but his jaw ticks to the side. The hit... it didn't hurt physically but it nearly broke the angels heart in two. Castiel slowly raised a hand to his jaw, touching the red spot on his skin. He curled his fingers there, closing his eyes as Dean growled at him. One last touch. One last memory...
The angel opened his eyes and looked back at Dean, they were equal in shine. He looked absolutely wrecked, destroyed, because this was happening. This was happening to them. The angel swallowed fighting back the emotion when Dean turned back to the wall. There was something he wanted to say, always something but... there was no point now. It was useless. Castiel....
..........................
With a flutter of wings Castiel disappeared.]
Reply
Maybe they'd been lying, or maybe he's just proven them wrong.
It doesn't matter.
He doesn't turn around at the sound of fluttering wings, because he knows what it means. Angels always suck at saying goodbye.
He keeps scrubbing the wall. The panic room is coated with them- Enochian and pagan symbols of entrapment, shit from the bible, shit from Balthazar, shit Cas himself taught Dean, coating everything like graffiti.
And Dean's going to remove every trace of it.
He doesn't feel it when hot warmth streaks down his cheeks, or when his knuckles crack and fingertips bleed, or when the rag starts to fray and tear.
By the time he's done, there isn't a spec of paint on the walls.
Apart from the scar on his arm, there's no proof Cas was ever there.
He wonders if he'd scrub that away, too, if he could.
He decides to sit down on the small cot there until he comes up with an answer.
He ends up sitting there a long, long time.
But he doesn't come up with an answer.]
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment