(no subject)
His hands are sticky with blood. It has started to cool and congeal and it is startling to feel it between his fingers. He has not truly felt his vessel since Purgatory was opened and now he can feel dried blood underneath Jimmy Novak’s fingernails and the souls splitting skin that no longer belongs to him. He feels stretched thin and little fingers are clawing their way up his throat in a bid to escape.
He opens his mouth to explain, to fix what he has done. He is an angel of the Lord, the whisper of his true voice shatters glass and he stands taller than the tallest buildings and here he is laid low and humbled at the feet of a human. A flawed and beaten down human who has proven more brave than the entire host of Heaven.
“I feel…regret,” Castiel pants out, searching Dean’s face for he does not know what, an impossible forgiveness, a sign that he has smoothed over a small part of the hurt he has caused. If this is truly the end, it is imperative that he makes it known how sorry he is. His vision dims as the gates of Purgatory open and with the last bit of strength left, he twists to watch Dean’s face. If this is the last thing he is to see, of everything the Universe has had to offer, he would have it no other way.
“I’m sorry, Dean.”
The pain is white hot and tearing as the souls are ripped from him and flung back into Purgatory. It's an endless screaming until suddenly there is nothing. No sound, no light, no dark until as quickly as it stopped, it starts again. He has once again been restored. He blinks and tries to steady his legs, the weak, human legs of his vessel. His friends are right there, reaching for him. They appear pleased. They appear relieved. He will redeem himself to them. He will make everything better that he has broken. It is astonishing how much relief and gratitude the human body can contain. It is this surge of emotion that clouds him to the inky tendrils creeping up and around his mind and his grace.
He pushes Dean and Bobby away as he is suddenly aware of the presence and fights to hold on, their essence filling his senses and splitting him at seams. “Leviathan!” he shouts, before being shoved to the farthest corner of his vessel, knowing nothing but wet and black and rage and his own failure. His endless failure. His essence is dissolving; he can vaguely feel their drive and need for water. They seek it out with a single mindedness. The vessel is disintegrating and along with it, so is he. The very atoms of him start to float away and his last thought is to wonder what will become of the boys. Who will watch over them, now?
Awareness floods back suddenly and violently as he fills his vessel more completely than he has ever before. He is alone. His mind is quiet. He is drowning. Blue eyes snap open as the compulsion to breathe has him sucking in warm water and pushing up and out with a great gasp.
[ooc: Open to all! Castiel has just debuted in one of the pools in the Turkish bathhouse. You can decide how clothed your pup should be and if Cas was in the water with them.]
He opens his mouth to explain, to fix what he has done. He is an angel of the Lord, the whisper of his true voice shatters glass and he stands taller than the tallest buildings and here he is laid low and humbled at the feet of a human. A flawed and beaten down human who has proven more brave than the entire host of Heaven.
“I feel…regret,” Castiel pants out, searching Dean’s face for he does not know what, an impossible forgiveness, a sign that he has smoothed over a small part of the hurt he has caused. If this is truly the end, it is imperative that he makes it known how sorry he is. His vision dims as the gates of Purgatory open and with the last bit of strength left, he twists to watch Dean’s face. If this is the last thing he is to see, of everything the Universe has had to offer, he would have it no other way.
“I’m sorry, Dean.”
The pain is white hot and tearing as the souls are ripped from him and flung back into Purgatory. It's an endless screaming until suddenly there is nothing. No sound, no light, no dark until as quickly as it stopped, it starts again. He has once again been restored. He blinks and tries to steady his legs, the weak, human legs of his vessel. His friends are right there, reaching for him. They appear pleased. They appear relieved. He will redeem himself to them. He will make everything better that he has broken. It is astonishing how much relief and gratitude the human body can contain. It is this surge of emotion that clouds him to the inky tendrils creeping up and around his mind and his grace.
He pushes Dean and Bobby away as he is suddenly aware of the presence and fights to hold on, their essence filling his senses and splitting him at seams. “Leviathan!” he shouts, before being shoved to the farthest corner of his vessel, knowing nothing but wet and black and rage and his own failure. His endless failure. His essence is dissolving; he can vaguely feel their drive and need for water. They seek it out with a single mindedness. The vessel is disintegrating and along with it, so is he. The very atoms of him start to float away and his last thought is to wonder what will become of the boys. Who will watch over them, now?
Awareness floods back suddenly and violently as he fills his vessel more completely than he has ever before. He is alone. His mind is quiet. He is drowning. Blue eyes snap open as the compulsion to breathe has him sucking in warm water and pushing up and out with a great gasp.
[ooc: Open to all! Castiel has just debuted in one of the pools in the Turkish bathhouse. You can decide how clothed your pup should be and if Cas was in the water with them.]