Fic: Glory
Title: Glory
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Balthazar
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: 6x22
Word Count: 1200
Disclaimer: In no way mine, or anything to do with me, I own nothing.
Summary: It's all a matter of perspective.
AN: Written for the love_bingo prompt 'old flame.'
The very first thing Castiel says to him is -
"You're dead."
Balthazar doesn’t need to be told that, he remembers. He's intimately acquainted with the truth of his own death, thank you very much. Though not so much with what happened afterwards, and how he came to be here. Heaven's colours flow and smear together overhead, but they're soundless and flat now, as if they're underwater. It's positively nauseating when you have to look at it through human eyes.
Balthazar ignores them to stare at Castiel instead. "Quite, and don't ask me how, or why. I'm rather out of the loop."
Castiel's expression doesn't change. Which is almost more hurtful than the betrayal, definitely more hurtful than the outright murder. They must all look very small from the top of that cosmic mountain of power. Balthazar hopes it's also chilly as fuck.
"Much has changed," Castiel tells him.
"I noticed," Balthazar says simply. "I see you solved the problem of doubt by claiming the throne for yourself."
Castiel nods, either not catching the mockery or not caring. "I understand now."
"You're not a god, you know," Balthazar says to his new, blank face. "You're a vessel, for power, an extraordinary amount of power."
"I am that power now. I have given it shape and thought." Castiel smiles, and Balthazar has never seen serenity look quite so threatening.
"I'm sure I read somewhere about creatures who ate too many souls and thought they were gods. Somewhere in the horror section, though there were rather too many lurid tentacles on the cover for my liking."
Castiel stares back at him. Balthazar doesn't think the lesson is sinking in.
"I'm fairly sure it never ended well for them."
Castiel comes closer. Balthazar isn't entirely sure he appreciates the close-up look at the new and improved version. Castiel looks at him, or looks through him, Balthazar can't even tell. Death has apparently stripped him of any abilities he might use to prod and poke at the edges of the other angel, and see how he's put together. Or perhaps there's nothing there to see. Nothing behind the glare but more glare. Balthazar has to wonder if the inferno in there hasn't burned away everything he ever loved.
He has the feeling he's being weighed and measured. He doesn't like it at all.
"You shouldn't be here. You're an aberration." It's slow, almost dismissive.
That should rankle more than it does, but Balthazar nods, because there's no disputing it.
"Don't think I haven't noticed that. Being dead, it's something you notice. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to do anything when you're a metaphysical echo. Being buffeted around on the threads of your psyche like some sort of sad piece of driftwood. I can't even see what you look like in there."
Castiel tips his head up - and Balthazar thinks he would rather cut short any attempt to explain how Castiel is now the Kingdom and the Glory.
He holds up a hand. "No, feel free not to enlighten me."
He sighs and sits down on the fallen weight of a tree, half-surprised that he can sit down, that there is still 'sitting' and 'ups' and 'downs' in his new dead existence. He'd thought those things restricted to mortals at least. He tries not to be disappointed, but there's much to be disappointed in.
"I can only assume I'm supposed to be teaching you a lesson, call it karma, call it fate, call it a reminder of the unfathomable nature of the universe. Believe me, it has a pretty fucking vicious sense of humour."
Castiel frowns again, and Balthazar gets the distinct impression he's trying to get rid of him. It soon becomes apparent that he can't, frustration creeping onto his face. There's nothing quite like baffling a god with your existence.
"I hope you're feeling exceedingly guilty, at least," Balthazar offers.
"You deserved your punishment." Castiel makes it sound so uncomplicated, like their history meant nothing at all.
"You stabbed me in the back, " Balthazar reminds him. "In the back."
"You betrayed me," Castiel says simply.
"I lied to you, at the very most, and you deserved it." Balthazar levels the fiercest expression he has at him. "No matter what you did, I would never have killed you. I loved you, no matter how many stupid decisions and unsuitable friends you made. I loved you and if you'd just asked me -"
Castiel stares into the wind with his stupid, inscrutable face, and Balthazar has no idea if he cares or not.
"I can't believe you took lessons in humanity from a Winchester. Those brief, angry, arrogant, overly self-righteous little things." He can barely feel the bark under his palm, gritty, rough, dead - but he can't feel himself at all, it's very disorienting, being dead. "After the war, we never wanted it to happen again. But it barely took anything at all before we were slaughtering each other, did it?"
Balthazar sighs.
"Ducks to water," he says bitterly.
"Nevertheless you aided them, against me." Castiel makes it sound like an unforgivable sin. The first of his new rules, forgetting for a moment he's only been a god for five minutes. Balthazar gets the feeling he's going to be a fan of rules.
"Oh, believe me, it wasn't exactly fun for me. But you're the one who changed the music first, if you remember. Now look at you, congratulations, Cas, you've royally fucked this one up. And don't pretend you didn't see where you were going. That you couldn't have turned away and done things differently. For all the Winchester's faults they proved that the universe is willing to bend."
"You view this as a mistake." There's a smile, one you might use to reassure a child who doesn't grasp a new idea.
Balthazar has to laugh at that. "'Mistake' is one of the kinder words I'd use for this, believe me."
"You don't understand."
"Oh, I understand perfectly. I can still see the trees. I'm sure they'll all be happy to do exactly what you want. It's not like human beings are frustrating, wilful little creatures after all. You probably won't have to kill many of them, a few hundred million or so should do it."
For the first time the perfect mask cracks. There's a frown.
"I will do what I must." It's clearly supposed to be a statement, but it drifts at the end, like it wants to be an apology.
Balthazar spreads his hands. "And the ones that do worship you will be very devoted. Once you show yourself, of course. They'll do most of the slaughtering for you. And I hear human sacrifices are very popular. Nothing like an obsessive, brutal wave of devotion to kick-start your day."
Castiel shakes his head. "I will be a new sort of God, a better God."
"A better god." Balthazar shakes his head, laughter curling round the edge of every word. "You absorbed souls from purgatory, Cassie. Those things are made of fire and blood and teeth. Quite soon, I don't think you'll feel like yourself at all."
"They will kneel," Castiel says after a pause, like he just doesn't care.
"It's not just about getting people on their knees. It's about how you treat them once they're there," Balthazar says quietly. "You of all people should know that."
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Balthazar
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: 6x22
Word Count: 1200
Disclaimer: In no way mine, or anything to do with me, I own nothing.
Summary: It's all a matter of perspective.
AN: Written for the love_bingo prompt 'old flame.'
The very first thing Castiel says to him is -
"You're dead."
Balthazar doesn’t need to be told that, he remembers. He's intimately acquainted with the truth of his own death, thank you very much. Though not so much with what happened afterwards, and how he came to be here. Heaven's colours flow and smear together overhead, but they're soundless and flat now, as if they're underwater. It's positively nauseating when you have to look at it through human eyes.
Balthazar ignores them to stare at Castiel instead. "Quite, and don't ask me how, or why. I'm rather out of the loop."
Castiel's expression doesn't change. Which is almost more hurtful than the betrayal, definitely more hurtful than the outright murder. They must all look very small from the top of that cosmic mountain of power. Balthazar hopes it's also chilly as fuck.
"Much has changed," Castiel tells him.
"I noticed," Balthazar says simply. "I see you solved the problem of doubt by claiming the throne for yourself."
Castiel nods, either not catching the mockery or not caring. "I understand now."
"You're not a god, you know," Balthazar says to his new, blank face. "You're a vessel, for power, an extraordinary amount of power."
"I am that power now. I have given it shape and thought." Castiel smiles, and Balthazar has never seen serenity look quite so threatening.
"I'm sure I read somewhere about creatures who ate too many souls and thought they were gods. Somewhere in the horror section, though there were rather too many lurid tentacles on the cover for my liking."
Castiel stares back at him. Balthazar doesn't think the lesson is sinking in.
"I'm fairly sure it never ended well for them."
Castiel comes closer. Balthazar isn't entirely sure he appreciates the close-up look at the new and improved version. Castiel looks at him, or looks through him, Balthazar can't even tell. Death has apparently stripped him of any abilities he might use to prod and poke at the edges of the other angel, and see how he's put together. Or perhaps there's nothing there to see. Nothing behind the glare but more glare. Balthazar has to wonder if the inferno in there hasn't burned away everything he ever loved.
He has the feeling he's being weighed and measured. He doesn't like it at all.
"You shouldn't be here. You're an aberration." It's slow, almost dismissive.
That should rankle more than it does, but Balthazar nods, because there's no disputing it.
"Don't think I haven't noticed that. Being dead, it's something you notice. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to do anything when you're a metaphysical echo. Being buffeted around on the threads of your psyche like some sort of sad piece of driftwood. I can't even see what you look like in there."
Castiel tips his head up - and Balthazar thinks he would rather cut short any attempt to explain how Castiel is now the Kingdom and the Glory.
He holds up a hand. "No, feel free not to enlighten me."
He sighs and sits down on the fallen weight of a tree, half-surprised that he can sit down, that there is still 'sitting' and 'ups' and 'downs' in his new dead existence. He'd thought those things restricted to mortals at least. He tries not to be disappointed, but there's much to be disappointed in.
"I can only assume I'm supposed to be teaching you a lesson, call it karma, call it fate, call it a reminder of the unfathomable nature of the universe. Believe me, it has a pretty fucking vicious sense of humour."
Castiel frowns again, and Balthazar gets the distinct impression he's trying to get rid of him. It soon becomes apparent that he can't, frustration creeping onto his face. There's nothing quite like baffling a god with your existence.
"I hope you're feeling exceedingly guilty, at least," Balthazar offers.
"You deserved your punishment." Castiel makes it sound so uncomplicated, like their history meant nothing at all.
"You stabbed me in the back, " Balthazar reminds him. "In the back."
"You betrayed me," Castiel says simply.
"I lied to you, at the very most, and you deserved it." Balthazar levels the fiercest expression he has at him. "No matter what you did, I would never have killed you. I loved you, no matter how many stupid decisions and unsuitable friends you made. I loved you and if you'd just asked me -"
Castiel stares into the wind with his stupid, inscrutable face, and Balthazar has no idea if he cares or not.
"I can't believe you took lessons in humanity from a Winchester. Those brief, angry, arrogant, overly self-righteous little things." He can barely feel the bark under his palm, gritty, rough, dead - but he can't feel himself at all, it's very disorienting, being dead. "After the war, we never wanted it to happen again. But it barely took anything at all before we were slaughtering each other, did it?"
Balthazar sighs.
"Ducks to water," he says bitterly.
"Nevertheless you aided them, against me." Castiel makes it sound like an unforgivable sin. The first of his new rules, forgetting for a moment he's only been a god for five minutes. Balthazar gets the feeling he's going to be a fan of rules.
"Oh, believe me, it wasn't exactly fun for me. But you're the one who changed the music first, if you remember. Now look at you, congratulations, Cas, you've royally fucked this one up. And don't pretend you didn't see where you were going. That you couldn't have turned away and done things differently. For all the Winchester's faults they proved that the universe is willing to bend."
"You view this as a mistake." There's a smile, one you might use to reassure a child who doesn't grasp a new idea.
Balthazar has to laugh at that. "'Mistake' is one of the kinder words I'd use for this, believe me."
"You don't understand."
"Oh, I understand perfectly. I can still see the trees. I'm sure they'll all be happy to do exactly what you want. It's not like human beings are frustrating, wilful little creatures after all. You probably won't have to kill many of them, a few hundred million or so should do it."
For the first time the perfect mask cracks. There's a frown.
"I will do what I must." It's clearly supposed to be a statement, but it drifts at the end, like it wants to be an apology.
Balthazar spreads his hands. "And the ones that do worship you will be very devoted. Once you show yourself, of course. They'll do most of the slaughtering for you. And I hear human sacrifices are very popular. Nothing like an obsessive, brutal wave of devotion to kick-start your day."
Castiel shakes his head. "I will be a new sort of God, a better God."
"A better god." Balthazar shakes his head, laughter curling round the edge of every word. "You absorbed souls from purgatory, Cassie. Those things are made of fire and blood and teeth. Quite soon, I don't think you'll feel like yourself at all."
"They will kneel," Castiel says after a pause, like he just doesn't care.
"It's not just about getting people on their knees. It's about how you treat them once they're there," Balthazar says quietly. "You of all people should know that."