Work Text:
Pleas'd with his idol, he commends, admires,
Adores; and last, the thing ador'd, desires.
Ovid - Metamorphoses, trans. Sir Samuel Garth et al
Castiel had been a warrior in the armies of God since his creation. He’d fought in countless battles, defeated innumerable foes, and filled out untold reams of paperwork. In all of his eons, he was only ever away from his post begrudgingly after receiving an injury in battle. He had no time for angelic frivolities such as watching the humans or joining the Chorus.
Millennia of constant work will always take its toll, however, even on a soldier as devoted as Castiel. While completing the forms from his latest harrowing and lengthy encounter with demons, his fellow soldier Gabriel confronted him with a handful of ragged black feathers.
“I think you’re missing something, brother,” he said with a frown. He grabbed one of Castiel’s wings and pulled it around in front. Castiel was shocked to find that it looked almost mangy; there were several patches of missing feathers, and many still attached were in poor shape.
“I-“ he started, but as he had never seen anything like it, he didn’t know how to continue.
“You need to see a healer,” Gabriel said. “I’ll cover for you. I don’t want to spend the rest of the day looking at those flea-bitten rags you call wings.”
As Castiel had not been ill in the long years of his existence, he agreed and quickly made his way to the Healing Hall. There, a healer took one look at him and diagnosed the problem as stress due to overwork. When Castiel revealed that he had never taken a day off for fun, she snorted and muttered something about stupid soldiers not properly taking care of themselves. She gave him a glare, and Castiel knew what she said next would be an order he could not ignore.
So Castiel found himself standing in his quarters with an order to take several weeks off for personal time and to pick up some form of hobby to help him relax. Castiel had never had a hobby before – his work had always been enough for him – and he had no idea where to start.
When he asked Gabriel if he knew of anything Castiel could pick up in the time he had off, he did not even hesitate to mention a sculpting class taught by the angel Anael. If Gabriel blushed slightly as he said her name, Castiel didn’t notice.
——
It seemed as though sculpting may not be Castiel's forte. The class had been going for some time now, and Castiel despaired as he looked at the stone before him. He had never been imaginative and couldn’t fathom what he was going to make. For lack of anything better, he gave his marble slab a shape reminiscent of a human form.
“It’s technically correct, Castiel, but it doesn’t look right.” Anael told him with on one of her circuits through the class. She tilted her head to the side and gave the statue a considering frown. “At least give it a face. That will give it some personality, and maybe you'll see something then that will let you complete it.”
Castiel had never been more frustrated. It was ridiculous that the healer had expected this hobby to relieve the stress of battle. Since every angel who became a warrior was expected to recognize all potential enemies, he had seen humans before. But that had been many thousands of years in the past, and he certainly hadn't spent much time around them. He knew the basic form of the modern human, but he wouldn't be able to shape anything more specific than that.
Anael must have seen his frustration. “Okay, Castiel. I have a suggestion for you. As you are not on duty for a few more weeks anyway, why don’t you visit Earth? What I like to do when I’m artistically blocked is carefully study examples of what I’m trying to make. I would suggest you find something striking and attempt to recreate it. Though it may not turn out perfect every time, it will certainly serve as inspiration if you’re unsure of how to proceed from here.”
——
Anael's advice was sound. Castiel was a warrior, and he knew the best way to beat any foe was to learn as much as possible about it beforehand. Beginning that evening, he began visiting Earth for a few hours a day and, though the strangeness of these energetic and flamboyant beings initially annoyed him, he soon grew to enjoy the things he saw. He slowly built a face for his statue, taking inspiration from the faces of humans who did wonderful things. From a plain-looking woman who quietly gave an ailing friend all of her time and strength through their rough medical treatment, he took a set of freckles. The mouth came from the engaging grin of a child who refused to let a lonely classmate be friendless.
The face slowly formed in this fashion, growing more lifelike with the addition of every feature taken from an outstanding human. Soon, the face was almost complete. Unfortunately, the eyes proved to be the most difficult thing to find. He searched for days and feared his time away from his service would end before he found the perfect fit. On his last allotted day on Earth, however, he saw what he needed. In a hospital room, a woman lay dying. She had led a long and full life, and she knew it was time to go. Castiel sat invisibly beside her husband as she slipped away, and in her last moments he watched the man look at his wife with a love deep enough to drown in. Behind the tears, Castiel found a pair of bright green eyes that he knew would complete his statue.
When Castiel returned to heaven, he hurried to add the final feature. Though the hodgepodge nature of its creation meant it should be almost Frankensteinian, the actual outcome was so beautiful it astounded him.
Anael was correct; once the face was completed, the body almost seemed to form itself under Castiel’s hands. The result was slightly taller than he was and stocky where he was slender. The shoulders were wide, the hands were bold, and the mouth turned up into an impish grin. However, it was to the eyes that Castiel’s gaze often returned. When he looked into them, he saw something he had never wanted before, something he knew he could never have. After all, a soldier of Heaven had no need for love.
——
When Castiel’s feathers began to grow back, the healers allowed him to return to his duties with remonstrations about overworking himself again. They suggested he continue his art, but Castiel knew he’d never carve again. Even if he could make something as beautiful as his statue again, he didn’t want to. He already felt too deeply for the one he had and couldn’t chance a repeat.
He thought that a return to work would distract him from the emotions growing inside him, but his admiration quickly became an obsession. He spent all of his free time in front of the statue, and even at work or in battle he could hardly remove his thoughts from it. Soon, it became more than an inanimate bit of stone to him; it became his only companion. Where before he had gone to Gabriel with all of his worries, he now took them to the statue. He spent hours in front of it, talking to it and holding its outstretched hand. He even gave it gifts, little things he picked up around heaven or in battles: a feather from his wings, a flower from The Garden, once a particularly powerful knife he picked off the body of a demon he had killed. He soon had quite a collection of these little mementos littered around his room, but it didn’t matter to Castiel. Prior to this, he had had no need for personal items, so he had plenty of room.
He couldn’t keep up his behavior for long, however. The more time he spent with the statue, a thing he knew would never love him the way he loved it, the sadder he got. Yet he could not leave it. His fellow soldiers quickly noticed the changes in him, and they became worried. Though they were glad he no longer spent all of his time in combat, it was clear he was no happier than he had been before.
After a month, on a day when Castiel appeared particularly haggard, Gabriel took it upon himself to visit Castiel’s barracks. When he saw he statue, adorned as it was with small objects, he shook his head at Castiel lying guiltily against its legs.
“Castiel, brother. You know I want you be happy. I can’t think of an angel who deserves it more. But this? This isn’t healthy.” He looked at Castiel compassionately, but firmly. “You have to get rid of it.”
It was odd to see such a stern look on Gabriel. His general expression was one of mischief, and he could find the joke in any situation. For him to be so concerned was shocking, and Castiel knew he had to listen, if for no other reason than the friendship they shared.
Even with Gabriel's help, getting rid of it was more difficult than he had imagined. Though he knew in his mind it was only stone, his heart had grown attached. The beautiful face called to him, and even the idea of destroying it filled him with despair. Desperately, he turned to prayer, begging his Father for some way to solve his dilemma.
With tears in his eyes, he looked into the eyes he’d filled with love and kissed the statue. He didn't know why he did it, it was an urge he would never be able to explain in the coming years. He had no expectation of anything happening. But as soon as he breathed out, the lips beneath his moved. Startled, he pulled back and watched as the stone became animated, the gray falling away into living skin. The eyes blinked, the hands curled and uncurled, and the grin he had become so infatuated with softened into a smile.
“I was wondering when you’d figure it out. Worried you were going to kill me for a bit there”
Shocked, Castiel stared for a moment, feeling as though his heart was about to burst. The statue—or rather, the human it had become—stepped off its base and looked around the room.
“Gotta tell you, Cas. I’m not going to be sorry to leave this room. I mean, thanks for all the stuff and I’m glad I could keep you company here, but its kinda boring being a rock.” It—he—turned back to Castiel and stepped into his space. “Hi. Name’s Dean.”
Castiel could only stare. Not only was his creation now alive, it had chosen its own name and given him a nickname, something not even Gabriel had attempted in the past.
Dean sighed. “Look, I know you’re confused. Hell, I’m confused. You think I ever expected to become sentient? But Cas,” here he smiled once again, “Whatever voodoo got me here, it gave me to you, and you to me. I think it’s worth whatever problems this’ll cause, don’t you?”
“But I do not understand. Why would God allow me this?”
“Eh.” Dean shrugged, and the look on his face was a little more serious than any Castiel had yet seen. “I think this is one of those situations where you don’t look a gift miracle in the mouth.”
Castiel didn’t understand the reference, but he got the sentiment. He took that final step towards Dean, reached out and touched his cheek. What before had been hard stone was now yielding flesh, and it felt infinitely fragile beneath his angel-strong hands. “I have loved you since the moment I created you, but I never expected you could love me back. I am not sure what to do with you now.”
Dean’s smile turned lecherous. “I may have a few ideas for you, then.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to Castiel’s in a kiss that soon turned heated. Though he should have been the inexperienced one, that night he taught Castiel many things only a human could know.
——
Their existence would never be perfect. Dean was strong-minded and Castiel was over-focused, but Castiel and his statue-turned-human were inseparable from that day forward. When Castiel spent too much time in his soldier’s mindset, Dean was there to tease him out of it. When Dean fell too deep into the melancholy of his own creation, Castiel was there to raise him from his sadness. Though life was short for Dean, as even humans that had once been made of stone only have a short span of time, his soul was never lonely and the gift that gave him life also gave him a bond with Castiel that could never be broken, not even in death.