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“Hey Cas, I hope you’re listening cause I don’t know that I can say this again. Sammy’s gonna be so proud cause I’m sittin’ here getting ready to have a chick-flick moment with an angel I’m not even sure is listening.” Castiel freezes where he is standing in the middle of the motel room he’s appropriated for the evening. Arm outstretched with his fingertips skimming the edge of the wall, Castiel feels the blood he was using for the wards, drying on his hand as he strains to hear Dean’s prayer and for the moment he ignores the danger that he’s in whilst he leaves the wards unfinished. He believes that after what happened at their last parting that he owes Dean this much at least. He owes Dean his attention even if the man will never know how fully it was given. “Look man I know things ain’t been easy between us and that’s probably more my fault than yours. Dammit Cas, this kinda chick stuff’s always been somethin’ that Sam’s done but I guess avoiding the chick-flick moments didn’t help us out any did it? I been sittin’ on this for awhile now and it ain’t like I’ve got anything to lose by talking about it now. So I guess I’d better start this right and tell you… Cas? I really hope you’re listening to me man and that I’m not just talkin’ to myself here cause I’m sorry.”
He knows that he is gaping and he stares with unseeing eyes at the pale cream paint of the motel wall that stands in stark contrast to the scarlet adorning it with intricate wards that are only half done. Dried blood paints his arm from the cut he’d sliced open and he should be finishing the wards so that the angels can’t find him but that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because Dean is praying and even more importantly Dean is offering an apology. To him as though he has somehow been wronged by the man that it seems he has spent his entire existence watching over. The Righteous Man has no need to abase himself by offering an apology to an angel that has only ever rewarded him with hardship and yet...
Then again the Righteous Man is Dean Winchester and every sentient being in this realm of existence and beyond should know that Dean only takes note of the rules so that he can in some way break them later on. Sighing deeply Castiel pulls out his blade and drags it across the skin of his forearm and watches the blood well and begin to spill onto the faded blue carpet below before coating his hand in it once more. The seconds stretch into minutes that then seem to stretch onwards for an age as Dean remains silent.
“Lotta things that I shoulda said before you ever thought that openin’ Purgatory was a good idea but I didn’t. I didn’t say anything and look where we’re at now, man. I’ve been fallin’ since I got outta Hell and you’ve been fallin’ with me which is why I gotta ask… Why’d you do it, Cas?” His head tilts to the side in as close to open confusion as he is capable of when his eyes widen and his breath hitches at the next question. “Why’d you give everything up for me? I didn’t ask you to do it and I know if you were here you’d be tellin’ me that good things happen and on a good day I might even believe you but today ain’t a good day, Cas. Benny’s back in Purgatory, I met that bitch Naomi and now Kevin’s missing.”
This is what has Dean so out of sorts?
This is what has Dean unnerved to the point of praying to a guardian angel that is at best negligent in his duties and at worst… well he doesn’t think that really bears mentioning at this point.
Why did he sacrifice everything? Why did he turn his back on all that he’d ever known and held dear? This is the question that keeps Dean up well past the hour when he should have been resting?
Castiel shakes his head with a sense of wry amusement because it seems that after everything that they have been through together Dean still struggles with his faith. He still fails to understand why it is that he deserved saving when others were left to suffer the consequences of their actions. If he could… If he could, he would tell Dean that he did it for him because angels were never meant to feel. They were never meant to feel anything that could interfere with the duties given them by their Father. It is this lack of feeling that allowed his garrison to continue fighting on through Hell in a determined march towards the ninth level where Dean was being held. It is the lack of feeling that was purged from him the moment that he touched Dean’s soul and was left breathless in the wake of its beauty.
He remembers how his wings were stained so dark a red that they appeared black and his Grace was struggling for survival by the time he’d managed to break through the last of the demons defenses and enter Alastair’s domain. He’d stood in front of the Righteous Man and to be bluntly honest, he had not been impressed. The Righteous Man named by his Father before all of Creation had broken and with him the First Seal. The sounds of the blood dripping from his wings to the ice covered ground seemed to echo throughout the torture room he was in and his hand adjusted the grip on his sword without thinking as the Righteous Man spun to face him with one hand still clutching onto the knife that had been in the process of being cleaned. Dull green eyes looked up at him before the Righteous Man turned around and continued to clean the blood from the implements lying in front of him. He was stunned by the lack of concern shown by the man and had wondered if perhaps the Righteous Man was well and truly broken by Hell to be so unconcerned by the angel standing behind him with a Grace blackened by the trials of Hell.
Wings flaring behind him in preparation for flight he’d stepped forward with one hand outstretched to grasp hold of the Righteous Man when… the man turned and he was nearly sent to his knees by the flood of emotion that entered him as he made contact with the man’s shoulder. Hand tightening, he keened in response to the worsening torrent of emotions as a cold hand grasped his wrist in a loose grip, Castiel had forced his eyes up to meet the now anguished green that met his own unflinchingly. “God shouldn’t care about me.” The man rasped with a voice still rough from the decades he’d spent screaming under Alastair’s care and Castiel moaned when his Grace began to flare wildly in response to the taint that was being cleansed from it. “The guy should care more for his kids than to send ‘em to Hell after a guy that’s made his peace so make sure when you get back that you tell him that I ain’t worth this.”
Struggling for control Castiel had opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed to meet a sympathetic gaze and he knows with all certainty that this is the moment when he knew that he would Fall for the man before him if it was asked of him. He loves his Father because that was the purpose for which he was brought into Creation and if pressed he will admit to feeling a similar type of emotion for some of his siblings but never has he loved anything or anyone with the same level of emotion he holds for his Father. Until he laid hands on Dean Winchester in Hell and he was shown a man whose will had broken under Hell’s harshest tortures and yet… even though his will had broken the man had somehow saved his soul from the condemning taint of Hell. “I will not leave you in Perdition,” he’d ground out as he straightened and leaned forward to cup the Righteous Man’s face within his hands. “The Blessings of my Father are upon you, Dean Winchester and know that ever has His Favor been with you. It is His Will that you are to be raised from Hell and set free from the Deal that holds your soul captive.”
Those had been the first words they’d ever exchanged and it was with curiosity burning inside of him that Castiel answered the summoning once the man had risen. He was eager to speak with the man once more and had set about acquiring a vessel as hastily as possible once he realized that the man did not have the ability to hear or see his true nature. He is still unsure as to whether he was disappointed upon meeting him again and he realized that the man he had met in Hell was in all actuality naught more than just another man created by his Father’s Grace. He admits that he allowed this meeting to affect his second interaction with the man but Dean Winchester regardless of all of his failings and proclivities towards sin was still chosen by his Father and he would always offer him what safety his protection could offer. His allegiance to the man would come far later in the Green Room when Finis Dierum was upon them and he was asked to make a choice. Asked by the man that in that moment chose to be the Righteous Man for what are the righteous but those who have chosen to do what is right and just.
Dean had asked him to make a choice based on what was right and just. Asked him to truly think for himself as though he were capable of the same level of free will his Father had granted his most precious of creations. As he’d stood there stunned by the level of trust and faith that Dean was offering him he felt something inside of him break as Dean refused him and any aid that he might have offered. In his confusion he flew away and reappeared on Mount Chimborazo in Ecuador as he tried desperately to figure out if he could truly do what Dean was asking of him. Could he go against the entirety of the Host for one human in the hopes that Samuel Winchester could be prevented from breaking the final Seal? Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply as snow fell around him, Castiel thought back to the look of conviction that had adorned Dean’s face as the man declared he would prefer the pain of living his current existence than the peacefulness that Paradise promised and he knew that there was but one choice he could ever make. Fists clenching at his side Castiel had looked up at the peach colored storm clouds above him and, “Father you have given him over into my care and I find that… Father if I am going against your will then I ask that you tell me now but know that I will not forsake this man. I will not deny him my aid and I know well what my punishment from the Host will be if I follow him but thy Will be done.”
He followed Dean knowing that in order for Dean to reach his brother that a sacrifice would have to be made and he believes that Dean knows it as well. It is a decision that he does not and has never allowed himself to regret because in that one action he became more than what his Father had ever intended for him to be. Death is… it is as though he closed his vessel’s eyes and then he was set adrift into a world of darkness. A world of darkness without end and a world where he could no longer hear the soothing presence of his brothers and sisters as they lift their voices in a Chorus of praise to their long absent Father. He floats in the darkness and he cannot tell where he ends and the darkness begins. It seems as though he will be lost to the darkness when his vision is engulfed in a brilliant flash of light that blinds him and he feels that if he were but mortal he would cry at the feeling of his Father’s Grace. It is when he opens his eyes to see the Earth once more that he realizes his death has indeed served a purpose if only for the reason that the first thing he hears is Dean Winchester praying for assistance. To him as though he has done something worthy of being one of the few beings the man has ever prayed to in his adult life. Even though the man has surely been made aware of his passing by the Prophet and that knowledge allows a small thread of warmth to curl through his Grace. At that moment he is filled with a sense of peace he has not felt in many a millennia and if pressed he would admit that the last time he had felt such peace was as a fledgling when Gabriel had snuck him into the Garden.
Opening his eyes with a wistful smile on his lips Castiel sighs as he finishes the last of the sigils and with a press of his bloodied hand the wards are imbued with his Grace. If he could tell Dean why he chose him over everything he had ever known then he would tell him that he chose as he did because of Dean. Because of Dean’s soul, the soul that held such radiance so as to be capable of cleansing the taint of Hell from an angel’s Grace. Because Dean who felt that he was somehow more than what he had been created to be; that he could choose for himself what was right and what was wrong even if it meant going against the Host. And because Dean through everything that they had been through together— and they had been through so very much—still had faith enough to pray to him as though a Fallen Angel could ever be worthy of such devotion. If he could he would tell Dean that the Righteous Man is why he Fell and why when he Fell it didn’t feel so much like Falling as it felt like coming home. Like he had finally found the peace promised by Paradise in human form because no matter the evil that he has committed or the misunderstandings that always abound between them, he is secure in the knowledge that Dean will always welcome him back.
Always because even now after he has sinned so grievously by spilling the blood of the Righteous Man he is somehow still forgiven and he knows that once the Trials of God for the Sealing of the Gates of Hell are complete he will once more be in need of that forgiveness. His Father had ensured at his last resurrection that he would not be able to speak of the Trials of God to any who did not already know of them in their entirety and even the pain of keeping it hidden is not enough to overwhelm the strong Will his Father has placed over him. Sitting on the edge of the motel bed with his hands folded neatly in his lap Castiel studies the ceiling and wonders if Dean has ever read the Book of Job. Leaning down he pulls the duffel he borrowed from Dean in the crypt into his lap and stares at it for long moments before he reaches into it and draws the Angel Tablet out. Hands tightening before loosening just as quickly as the tablet threatens to crumble in his grip Castiel wonders why he’s hesitating. Why is he hesitating now when he has already made his choice?
Settling the tablet back into the duffel he nudges it beneath the bed before he stands and picks up the motel stationary and pen. He sits for long moments trying to will away the thread of unease that refuses to leave him but he knows bad choices and this is not one of them. For the first time since he was freed from Purgatory he feels as though he knows with utter surety the path that his existence was meant to follow and he will not allow for anything or anyone to further deter him from that path. So he takes pen in hand and begins to write. Write all of the things that as Dean has said, have been left unsaid for far too long and he hopes that what was broken between them can be forged anew with this simple act. It is nothing less than folly to leave the safety of his wards to visit a place he knows will be watched by Naomi but he believes that he has waited long enough.
The Next Morning:
His eyes are burning from a lack of proper sleep when he opens them and he knows they’ll be bloodshot and he’s going to hear it from Sam about how his prayers are keeping him up at night. Again. It’s a really good thing that Sam doesn’t know too much about Purgatory or how he seemed to pray obsessively while he searched everywhere he could reach for Cas. Stretching and making a face at the taste in his mouth Dean freezes when his fingers brush against paper that he knows wasn’t on the bunk early this morning when he fell asleep. Sitting up abruptly and bringing the paper with him Dean’s brow furrows in confusion at the neatly written words on cheap motel stationary before his eyes widen and his hands begin to tremble. Cas, he mouths silently as he takes a deep breath and a quick look around the room to make certain that Sam is still asleep before he begins to read.
Dean,
I have heard every prayer that you have ever sent to me and I will remind you once more that to pray means you have faith. Only I have to wonder at why you have chosen to find your faith in me when I have proven to be so undeserving of it but I would like to think that I know you and I do not believe that is something you yourself believe to be true.
“Damn straight it isn’t.”
You asked me a question that I too believe has waited far too long for an answer and if you would hear it then I would give my answer now. You asked me why I chose you over everything. Why did I choose you over my brothers, sisters and Father when the time for the choice came? I find the answer to be quite simple but I doubt that you will see it as such so I will endeavor to explain it fully but the simplest answer I can give is this: I Fell because of you.
“Wow way to lay it on a guy, Cas.” Dean murmurs as he stares blankly at the letter in hand. “No blame game here.”
I chose you because of the soul that cleansed me of the taint that had gathered in my Grace as I searched for you in Hell. I told you once that it was I who had gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition but what I failed to mention was that I was only able to do so because of you. You will not remember Hell or rather that particular conversation because your soul, in an attempt to protect itself had begun to disassociate itself from the actions it was committing, and thus some of your memories of that time were lost. I believe that when you healed me in Hell that it was the first time your soul fully surfaced in what I assume to be a rather long period of time. For humans that is.
“This? This is the kind of stuff us humans like to call need to know and I needed to know.”
My Father commanded that you be raised from Hell and if I may be honest, then I will admit that at first I could not understand why he had chosen you. Your soul was and still is the one of the most beautiful things my Father has ever created but when tied to the mortal plane, you seemed so determined to sully it with pointless frivolities. It wasn’t until you confronted me in the Green Room and you asked for me to make a choice that would place me in opposition to my brethren simply because it was the right thing to do that I understood. I understood why my Father had chosen you to be the Righteous Man because it is only the truly Righteous that seek Salvation not for themselves but for others. You will never understand it because you have never been an angel but in that moment you asked me to make a choice that should not have been mine to make. Angels of the lower caste were made to follow orders and never to question them but I did so. For you. Because you believed that I was different or rather that I could be different. You believed that I could do something for the simple reason that it was the right course of action to choose even if it meant going against orders. I Fell because the Righteous Man, no because Dean Winchester had faith. In me.
“Cas c’mon man I ain’t—fuck but when you decide to have a chick-flick moment you go all out don’t you?”
Through the time that we have spent together it has come to pass that I have abused the faith that you have held in me and yet for reasons I have yet to fully comprehend, you refuse to hold it against me. Time and again you have offered me your forgiveness but even more than that, you would offer me an apology. Now I find that I must pose the question of why to you. Why would you apologize to me when you have done nothing that would warrant such an action?
“Hey now I know you’re listenin’ so you’d better be listenin’ good. I apologized because this thing between us, Cas? It goes two ways and you weren’t the only one who screwed up here. Ask Sammy if you don’t believe me.” Dean whispered as he watched Sam’s turn restlessly in his sleep and rubbed at his face wearily. “Dude I had to say sorry cause I don’t think I’ve said it to you like I should have. You’ve given up so much and I wanted you to know… well I wanted you to know that even if the rest of the dicks with wings brigade don’t care, I do.”
Time is short and there are things that I haven’t told you. Not because I did not wish to share this information with you but rather because I could not. The Will of my Father is not something one goes about breaking but I have—if you will believe it— found a way to circumvent the Will that prevents me from simply telling you this. If you were to perchance find a Bible then I believe I would recommend you read the Book of Job or more specifically I would recommend you begin reading at 5:17. It will, I believe enlighten you as to why you were unable to begin the Trials of God, and why it is that I must fulfill my duties to my Father at a time when I believe you need me. Naomi is searching for me and I do not doubt that she has put the not inconsiderable resources of Heaven into the search but if you require my assistance I will be there, Dean. You need only pray.
Sincerely,
Castiel
“Sincerely? Who uses sincerely anymore and,” turning the paper back over to read the logo of the stationary Dean snorts, “with a letter written on paper from the Starlight Motel? And Cas? Thanks. For the heads up and… back in the crypt when I thought I was gonna die? I meant it. Every word. I can’t do this without you, man.” Clearing his throat as he folds the paper neatly before tucking it into the pocket of his jacket lying across the foot of the bed Dean stands. “It uh… it really means a lot. That you’d um… well that you’d write me a letter even if you do sound like a girl for most of it but… Thanks man.” Things weren’t fixed between them and Hell next time they saw each other they’d probably end up arguing but… Now he knew with absolute certainty that Naomi was wrong and that out of the two of them, it wasn’t the brainwashing bitch that knew Cas the best. Smiling as he reached down to turn on the radio of the alarm clock on the floor Dean began laughing as the music startled his brother awake and for the first time in a long time he had hope.