spn ficlet: how he might win (Castiel, G)
title: how he might win
author: fannishliss
warnings: none, G, no pairing
spoilers: 6.22
length: 200 words
disclaimer: do not own, except in the ways I do. :)
~*0*~
At the brink of a waterfall, liquid hangs in glassy stasis, suspended before plummeting.
Castiel's power hangs there, roaring, gushing, endlessly exploding, endlessly renewed, aching to become, to transform potential into reality.
Castiel sees every aspect of creation, focused macro to micro, from the cosmos around the little blue island all the way down to the energy bits that swirl to make it up.
He sees back into the stream and forward into the mists of infinite collisions.
He sees himself, powerless, cut off, brutalized by arrogant archangels who willfully shove him out of being, from courageously, painfully, desperately there to gone in a careless snap of fingers.
Only God could bring an Angel back from the scattering of annihilation.
Only God could so easily gather the lost bits together, setting the fragments in orbit like a starry array before letting each little piece snap back into its own rightful place.
Only God could reinsert an Angel into the fabric of reality from which he’d been torn, give him new strength, new purpose, enough to keep him going, and an inkling of how he might win.
So God does. As the saying goes, the Lord helps those who help themselves.
author: fannishliss
warnings: none, G, no pairing
spoilers: 6.22
length: 200 words
disclaimer: do not own, except in the ways I do. :)
~*0*~
At the brink of a waterfall, liquid hangs in glassy stasis, suspended before plummeting.
Castiel's power hangs there, roaring, gushing, endlessly exploding, endlessly renewed, aching to become, to transform potential into reality.
Castiel sees every aspect of creation, focused macro to micro, from the cosmos around the little blue island all the way down to the energy bits that swirl to make it up.
He sees back into the stream and forward into the mists of infinite collisions.
He sees himself, powerless, cut off, brutalized by arrogant archangels who willfully shove him out of being, from courageously, painfully, desperately there to gone in a careless snap of fingers.
Only God could bring an Angel back from the scattering of annihilation.
Only God could so easily gather the lost bits together, setting the fragments in orbit like a starry array before letting each little piece snap back into its own rightful place.
Only God could reinsert an Angel into the fabric of reality from which he’d been torn, give him new strength, new purpose, enough to keep him going, and an inkling of how he might win.
So God does. As the saying goes, the Lord helps those who help themselves.