Chapter Text
Cas barely remembered leaving the Bunker, luckily the feet of his vessel knew which car to take him to. He wasn’t reckless enough to take the Impala out of spite. But it wasn't until about three miles down the road that he realised he’d been driving at all.
Finding himself in a motel room hours later, just static playing on the TV, reminding him of the frequencies that his siblings would tap into on this plane to communicate with. He was still yet to adjust to the silence of not being one with his brethren.
Motels almost felt synonymous with the Winchers, their absence felt heavy in the room. The emptiness felt like it was swallowing him up.
His heart panged. Chest ached. Knees buckled. Hands shook.
Another family. Gone.
How does this keep happening? How does he keep finding himself in this situation? What is wrong with him?
His naivety catching up to him when it’s too late once more. How stupid to think it might’ve been different this time round. Isn’t that just the definition of madness? Repeating the same actions over and over, hoping he would wield different results. Yet having it fall beneath him every time.
It was foolish to think he could live beyond whatever plan Heaven had predestined for him. It was hubristic to fall into that domestic fantasy with Jack, he deserved better, better than what Castiel could provide.
Who was he to think he was capable of raising another being? Especially one as pure as Jack. He was blinded the first time he came back to the Earth from the Empty, blinded by the poor innocent soul that needed guidance. He should have learned that nothing good comes from his teachings. Nothing other than pain and demise comes from him trying to help, how the angels hadn’t been a cautionary tale he would never know.
After all the angels were right, he is corrupted, cracked, broken.
The first choices he made with his newly found free will after the Apocalypse lead to the slaughter of half of his brethren and kickstarted another Earth shattering event. Then not even counting the other incidents that would follow, how could he be trusted with choice?
Maybe his Father was right, angels can’t handle the responsibility of autonomy, they simply weren’t built for it. Least of all him.
There was a sick feeling of longing for Naomi's skills, how he wishes he could start over.
A blank slate.
Wishing for the privilege of ignoring what’s happened this past few years. In all his years of existence, how have these recent years taken so much from him? He’s seen civilizations wiped out, stars blinked out of time, oceans rise, mountains fall but nothing has broken him quite like the relentless pressure of trying to live up to the Winchester’s standards. Dean’s standards.
Castiel then realises the situation he has left Sam in, without Dean’s usual punching bag the only other outlet in the Bunker is Sam. That isn’t a burden that he should leave.
How could he be so selfish again to run away leaving another to deal with the brunt of his mistakes?
Sam didn’t deserve that.
Neither do you. Said that tiny voice in his head again.
He couldn’t go down that path, not now, not when Sam could be in danger.
But it also couldn't force his body to move.
It wouldn’t let him get back into the car and go back to that situation. Cas didn’t understand why.
He had fought Archangels, Knights of Hell, the Darkness, the Empty and even God himself, so why wouldn’t his body obey him when going to confront Dean?
How has this paralysis taken hold now?
That familiar feeling of being unable to leave the Bunker before his possession by Lucifer seeping back into him.
But Cas didn’t know why.
There was no enemy to fight, no being to overcome, no war to battle.
Just Dean.
Dean.
Dean.
How did that name strike fear in him now? Dean was his respite, his saviour, his beacon from whatever darkness (metaphorically and literally) was plaguing their lives?
That pressure was building again. The same weight that would appear when a compatriot would tell him to report back to Heaven, or a fellow soldier would have the same doubts going through his head.
Seemingly lost in this moral debacle, Cas remained oblivious to the phone buzzing in his pocket. All effort going into not letting the remainder of his grace spill out and decimate the surrounding motel and its occupants.Static from the forgotten television getting louder, the frequencies rising to match the buzzing in his head. Other sensations and awareness getting drowned out by the swelling bubble of emotions that threaten to burst out at any second.
How he wished he could leave. Leave this body and just float into the stratosphere. His being floating amongst the atoms of the universe. Just as he used to, in the simpler times of early creation. The waves from the TV reminding him of his time drifting with Saturn’s Rings, the filaments in the light above him swirling like the flares exploding out of the Sun.
How can he see the Sun from inside?
He becomes aware of the feeling of the worn carpet underneath him. When did he fall to the floor?
How did he get here?
