The song that couldn't be real, Cas/Gabriel, PG
Title: The Song that Couldn't be Real
Author: Falling_dominos
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cas/Gabriel
Word count: 746
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, just play with them from time to time
Summary: Direct sequel to 'Raw', Castiel invents someone to make him feel better, but the thing is...sometimes people do save others.
A/N: written for a_phoenixdragon as a grats for finishing her BigBang! -Here's your angst!Cas/Gabe ficlet!-
Castiel was sitting in the shower, sobbing out the hurt. He was alone, the water long since gone cold from the shower in the cheap hotel he'd managed to get a room for before trying to wash Alistair's filth off of his soul. Needless to say, it didn't work out the way that he'd wanted it to. The water whistled through the shower head, creating dual tones. He was just lost in his own world, curled up on himself in a small ball, knees hugged to his chest, shaking from the trauma and not the cold water. He was an angel, and didn't feel the cold physically.
He could feel the cold spiritually, though. He could also still feel the filth crawling all over him from Alistair. He could still hear the demon's roaring laughter. The angel heard something else, sweeter, like a long distant memory. His breath hitched in his throat when he realized what he was hearing. The song caused him to sob, that song hadn't been heard by angelic ears in a very long, long time. Castiel thought he was going crazy, but couldn't resist putting his head back onto his knees and listening. The song of Creation wasn't sang in heaven, Michael and Raphael forbid it. They didn't like being reminded of the brothers that they'd lost. His mind was playing tricks on him, calling up a song that comforted him when he was so young. His eyes drifted closed, lulled by the melody.
There were hands, soft skin covering a strength that gathered him and all his broken pieces up and picked him bodily out of the shower, covering up the cold with a warmth that spoke of soaring through half-formed skies and nebulous stars. Still that song rang in his very being, covering the sound of Alistair's laughter that threatened to pull Castiel apart.
He kept his eyes closed, praying that this hallucination would never stop. Heaven and tenderness had been so far separate for so long, he'd just felt the sting of heaven's lash so recently that this was a sweet relief, even if it was only contrived in his broken mind. The hands dried him softly, with a towel that wasn't from the hotel, it was so soft, fluffy. All through the ordeal Castiel cried, the sobs pulled from his body. His mind was playing this trick so perfectly.
He could almost believe it, save for the fact that that song couldn't...couldn't be real. Gabriel was the one who sang that song, and Gabriel was long dead. Shh, death isn't what it's cracked up to be. Castiel still hadn't opened his eyes, didn't want to ruin the illusion. Didn't want to see that this was false, or worse that it was a demon come to take him back to Alistair's sweet embrace.
Wings wrapped around him, six of them, ephemeral and soft. Castiel whimpered, his broken psyche conjuring up something to make the pieces of him scattered everywhere feel not so shattered. Still that song flooded through his being and made him whole for a time. Soft clothing was put on him, his body responding to gentle direction from fingers that were steel coated in soft flesh. What did they do to you? To make you fall apart so completely? The song didn't stop, the words made to be part of the melody that wrapped the lesser angel in warmth.
Cas shuddered at the thought, still not responding in words, but he unconsciously pressed closer to that warmth, to that steel-covered-in-flesh warmth. Arms wrapped around him and wings protectively pressed around his back, hiding him in light and Grace. The shaking didn't stop, the hands rubbed soothing patterns into his clothing. You can rest here, I promise, as long as you need me to hide you.
The construct archangel held Castiel and sang him to sleep. The real archangel kept singing all night, tucking the broken one into bed, and lying with him keeping him wrapped in a mixture of Grace, wings, and a song older than time itself. The real Gabriel sighed heavily, this war his brothers kept insisting on fighting had broken its last being. He was tired of seeing people, angels, anyone broken by his brothers, all of them. So he made the decision to come out of retirement, made the decision to stretch his wings, and sing his song, and by the absent Father...this was going to end.
Author: Falling_dominos
Rating: PG
Pairing: Cas/Gabriel
Word count: 746
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, just play with them from time to time
Summary: Direct sequel to 'Raw', Castiel invents someone to make him feel better, but the thing is...sometimes people do save others.
A/N: written for a_phoenixdragon as a grats for finishing her BigBang! -Here's your angst!Cas/Gabe ficlet!-
Castiel was sitting in the shower, sobbing out the hurt. He was alone, the water long since gone cold from the shower in the cheap hotel he'd managed to get a room for before trying to wash Alistair's filth off of his soul. Needless to say, it didn't work out the way that he'd wanted it to. The water whistled through the shower head, creating dual tones. He was just lost in his own world, curled up on himself in a small ball, knees hugged to his chest, shaking from the trauma and not the cold water. He was an angel, and didn't feel the cold physically.
He could feel the cold spiritually, though. He could also still feel the filth crawling all over him from Alistair. He could still hear the demon's roaring laughter. The angel heard something else, sweeter, like a long distant memory. His breath hitched in his throat when he realized what he was hearing. The song caused him to sob, that song hadn't been heard by angelic ears in a very long, long time. Castiel thought he was going crazy, but couldn't resist putting his head back onto his knees and listening. The song of Creation wasn't sang in heaven, Michael and Raphael forbid it. They didn't like being reminded of the brothers that they'd lost. His mind was playing tricks on him, calling up a song that comforted him when he was so young. His eyes drifted closed, lulled by the melody.
There were hands, soft skin covering a strength that gathered him and all his broken pieces up and picked him bodily out of the shower, covering up the cold with a warmth that spoke of soaring through half-formed skies and nebulous stars. Still that song rang in his very being, covering the sound of Alistair's laughter that threatened to pull Castiel apart.
He kept his eyes closed, praying that this hallucination would never stop. Heaven and tenderness had been so far separate for so long, he'd just felt the sting of heaven's lash so recently that this was a sweet relief, even if it was only contrived in his broken mind. The hands dried him softly, with a towel that wasn't from the hotel, it was so soft, fluffy. All through the ordeal Castiel cried, the sobs pulled from his body. His mind was playing this trick so perfectly.
He could almost believe it, save for the fact that that song couldn't...couldn't be real. Gabriel was the one who sang that song, and Gabriel was long dead. Shh, death isn't what it's cracked up to be. Castiel still hadn't opened his eyes, didn't want to ruin the illusion. Didn't want to see that this was false, or worse that it was a demon come to take him back to Alistair's sweet embrace.
Wings wrapped around him, six of them, ephemeral and soft. Castiel whimpered, his broken psyche conjuring up something to make the pieces of him scattered everywhere feel not so shattered. Still that song flooded through his being and made him whole for a time. Soft clothing was put on him, his body responding to gentle direction from fingers that were steel coated in soft flesh. What did they do to you? To make you fall apart so completely? The song didn't stop, the words made to be part of the melody that wrapped the lesser angel in warmth.
Cas shuddered at the thought, still not responding in words, but he unconsciously pressed closer to that warmth, to that steel-covered-in-flesh warmth. Arms wrapped around him and wings protectively pressed around his back, hiding him in light and Grace. The shaking didn't stop, the hands rubbed soothing patterns into his clothing. You can rest here, I promise, as long as you need me to hide you.
The construct archangel held Castiel and sang him to sleep. The real archangel kept singing all night, tucking the broken one into bed, and lying with him keeping him wrapped in a mixture of Grace, wings, and a song older than time itself. The real Gabriel sighed heavily, this war his brothers kept insisting on fighting had broken its last being. He was tired of seeing people, angels, anyone broken by his brothers, all of them. So he made the decision to come out of retirement, made the decision to stretch his wings, and sing his song, and by the absent Father...this was going to end.