princeton plainsboro } { I want to believe in more than you and me
Shortly after three in the morning, a weary looking man in a trenchcoat appeared in Dean Winchester’s hospital room.
If he looked worse for the wear, it’s probably because he was, but it didn’t slow him down any. He paused at the foot of the bed, looking at the man who was asleep in the bed, before turning and moving towards the cabinets on the other end of the room. He searched through the drawers until he found what he was looking for, a small scapel, and brought it to the artery just above his wrist. Blood spilled from the incision, and with that, he painted a symbol on the cupboard above his head. He was looking to guarantee he wasn’t followed, after all. He didn’t stop to think that this is a public building, and it’s possible that the staff of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital would not appreciate him writing Enochian on their walls in blood, but he wasn’t concerned about that at the moment.
Right now, he just wanted to stop running.
He had been running ever since Dean had said yes. There were conditions to Dean’s acceptance, and his protection was one of them, but Castiel knew that there were no guarantees with angels. They had no qualms about saying whatever they needed in order to make sure the plan was followed through to fruition, and he was certain that as soon as he was in Dean’s body, Michael would end his existence for even considering going against the divine plan. However, months had passed, the final battle was over, and Dean had now been returned to his rightful state as a human-a healing human, but a human nonetheless-and Castiel was still alive. Michael had kept at least one of his promises. It was the one that he had broken that Castiel knew Dean wasn’t going to like.
Once the sigil was in place, he exhaled sharply, turning to face the man in the bed again, one hand covering the bloody line in his arm. It took one of the last bits of grace he had left after his journey to heal the small cut, and once that was done he found that he was extremely exhausted. Castiel was protected by Michael, and his life was spared, but he knew that his descent from Heaven would not be reversed. Castiel would slowly lose more and more of his grace as time went on, and he knew that there was no way to stop it without renouncing the choices he had made. Castiel may have been an angel, and was floundering without the power he once had, but he was prideful as well, and he had fought this hard for so long, there was no turning back for him now. He would eventually become human. One day, he would die, as a human did. But for now, he simply wanted to deliver the news he needed to deliver to Dean, and give himself a chance to recharge. He moved slowly, before sitting down on the chair next to the bed. Bobby would be gone for a few hours still. He didn’t wake Dean, simply sat in the silence and waited for him to wake naturally.
It was probably best that way.
If he looked worse for the wear, it’s probably because he was, but it didn’t slow him down any. He paused at the foot of the bed, looking at the man who was asleep in the bed, before turning and moving towards the cabinets on the other end of the room. He searched through the drawers until he found what he was looking for, a small scapel, and brought it to the artery just above his wrist. Blood spilled from the incision, and with that, he painted a symbol on the cupboard above his head. He was looking to guarantee he wasn’t followed, after all. He didn’t stop to think that this is a public building, and it’s possible that the staff of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital would not appreciate him writing Enochian on their walls in blood, but he wasn’t concerned about that at the moment.
Right now, he just wanted to stop running.
He had been running ever since Dean had said yes. There were conditions to Dean’s acceptance, and his protection was one of them, but Castiel knew that there were no guarantees with angels. They had no qualms about saying whatever they needed in order to make sure the plan was followed through to fruition, and he was certain that as soon as he was in Dean’s body, Michael would end his existence for even considering going against the divine plan. However, months had passed, the final battle was over, and Dean had now been returned to his rightful state as a human-a healing human, but a human nonetheless-and Castiel was still alive. Michael had kept at least one of his promises. It was the one that he had broken that Castiel knew Dean wasn’t going to like.
Once the sigil was in place, he exhaled sharply, turning to face the man in the bed again, one hand covering the bloody line in his arm. It took one of the last bits of grace he had left after his journey to heal the small cut, and once that was done he found that he was extremely exhausted. Castiel was protected by Michael, and his life was spared, but he knew that his descent from Heaven would not be reversed. Castiel would slowly lose more and more of his grace as time went on, and he knew that there was no way to stop it without renouncing the choices he had made. Castiel may have been an angel, and was floundering without the power he once had, but he was prideful as well, and he had fought this hard for so long, there was no turning back for him now. He would eventually become human. One day, he would die, as a human did. But for now, he simply wanted to deliver the news he needed to deliver to Dean, and give himself a chance to recharge. He moved slowly, before sitting down on the chair next to the bed. Bobby would be gone for a few hours still. He didn’t wake Dean, simply sat in the silence and waited for him to wake naturally.
It was probably best that way.