After watching 9.01, I wondered what would have happened if Hael had let Castiel go. So this is what I think would happen. This is planning to be only three to four chapters, with the ending being more light and fluffy. I'm not going to go too deeply into anything happening in the show but only am gonna write about Cas' journey to the bunker and what he does until Dean and Sam get there.
I didn't expect it to be this long, to be honest. It was suppose to be a short, cute oneshot where Castiel keeps calling Dean and asking him how to use the microwave or the shower or whatever in the bunker because Kevin didn't sign up to take care of a Fallen angel and won't. But then my writing got ahead of me and it turned into Cas' journey and then the bunker scenes I have in my head.
So, yeah, here it is, chapter one! Enjoy.
Chapter One.
Typing the numbers out feel good. It was something familiar, something that reminds Castiel of a time when he could type these numbers out, get a location, and fly there. But not anymore, perhaps never again. His fingers clench the black phone to the point of white-knuckles, presses it against his ear as he listens to the rings. He holds his breath and for one second, Castiel thinks Dean isn't going to answer the phone and he feels this strange, gnawing feeling in his gut that he doesn't really understand.
Then the ringing stops and Dean's gruff voice comes through. "Who is this?" he demands and Castiel can hear the stress coming through in waves. Or maybe he just knows Dean too well and can read into his tone easily.
"Dean," he breathes out, relief coursing through him at the sound of the voice but he also feels weary and worried. Expects yelling and cursing and blame, so much blame. He finds himself holding his breath again, bracing himself for the worst, when he realizes in that moment he has to take air in, it isn't just a choice anymore, and he sucks in a deep breath just as Dean replies.
"Cas, what the hell is going on?" he asks, his voice not raised like Castiel expected; instead, Dean sounds almost... concerned and relieved himself.
"Metraton... tricked me. It wasn't angel trials. It was a spell. I wanted you to know that." Castiel says, his blue eyes glancing over to Hael, sitting on the ground and waiting for his guidance. An angel that actually wants his help instead of his head.
"Okay, well that's great, but we got ourselves a problem." the words the elder Winchester speak makes a jolt of frightened worry shoot down Castiel's spine.
He feels confusion, as well, and asks, "What's wrong?"
"Sam, he's, uh... they say he's dying." Castiel hates the pain he can hear in Dean's tone. It hurts the former angel in a way he hadn't hurt before.
He also feels like something cold and heavy settles deep in his stomach, making him feel almost sick. He doesn't understand the feeling. "What happened?" he asks, ignoring it.
"I don't know. I mean, at first, he was okay and then he wasn't," Dean's talking fast, sounding more tired than Castiel can remember him ever sounding, "and I- have you heard my prayers? I've been praying to you all night!"
Castiel understands that feeling in his stomach then; guilt. Heavy guilt he couldn't help Sam well enough, heavy guilt he couldn't help Dean well enough. He doesn't like how strong it is. He shifts on his feet, notices they are starting to hurt when they weren't suppose too, and tries to overlook the pain in Dean's voice. "Dean..." he begins; this would be the first time he spoke the words out loud. It was scary. "Metatron... he... he took my grace."
"What?!" Dean sounds shocked and maybe a little bit angry. Or perhaps Castiel was hoping angry because that means Dean still cares for him on some level and wants him safe.
But this couldn't be about him. Not now. "Don't worry about me; what are you doing for Sam?" Castiel asks, his concern for the younger Winchester large. Both Winchesters mean quite a lot to him and he hasn't treated them properly for it, either. He owes them a lot and then some.
"Uh, everything I can. There's actually another angel in there working on him right now." Dean replies, a bit of hope wiggling its way into his tone.
But Castiel doesn't share the hope. Instead, those feelings of concern and fear increase, alongside a strong feeling of protectiveness. Another angel? Alone with Dean and Sam? "What other angel?" he tries to not sound demanding, tries to not let his anger and the bit of jealousy shine through. Another angel was there with them, with his Dean and Sam, when he couldn't be. It angers him a lot more than he would have thought.
"Um, his name is Ezekiel. He's cool- I mean, I think he is."
Castiel feels a bit of relief simmer down his concern and fear. The jealousy, on the other hand, not so much. But he can easily overlook that and see the good side of one of his trusted brothers being there with the Winchesters. "Ezekiel," he repeats, managing a slight smile at the familiar name, "Yes. He's a good soldier. He should be able to help till I get there."
Castiel isn't expecting to be met with protest. "What, no no no. No no. Hey. That's not an option." Dean says, that firm tone he gets when bossing anyone around coming through.
"It might be a few days but-," Castiel pushes on, ignoring Dean's protests; he has to do this for the Winchesters. He owes them that much. Though, Dean interrupts him with that nickname that makes Castiel almost smile.
"Cas, listen to me," Dean says, serious and a bit scary with how stern he sounds; it certainly makes Castiel listen. "There are angels out there, okay? And they're looking for you and they're pissed."
Castiel frowns a bit, eyes moving over to Hael. "Not all of them, Dean." he says, hoping he will bump into more angels along his journey that want to help him or want his help. "Some are just looking for direction. Some are just lost." he doesn't want to admit he could possibly be one of them. His only direction was the Winchesters but this whole human thing... it was scary and makes him feel a bit lost.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, confusion clear.
"I've met one," Castiel tells him, looking around the gas station parking lot, "I think I can help her, Dean." he has to do this. He has to help the brothers and sisters he betrayed more than once. Dean has to understand that.
"No, Cas. I know you wanna help, okay? I do but helping angels is what got you in trouble in the first place. Now I'm begging you, for once, look out for yourself. Until we figure out what the hell is going on, trust nobody!" Dean says, that stern tone firmly in affect.
Castiel feels some frustration build up in him. "And do what? Just abandon them all?" he says. He has already done that once; can he really do it again? Because Dean wants him too?
"Damnit Cas, you hearing yourself?" Dean snaps, obviously done with his bullshit. "There's a war on and it's on YOU. There's thousands of them out there- you said you lost your grace, right? That means you're human. That means you bleed and you eat and you sleep and all the things you never had to worry about before!"
"I'm fine, Dean." Castiel lies. His feet were starting to hurt, he was thristy and a bit hungry, and he thinks he may be getting a headache. But Dean didn't need to know that and Hael, Hael needs direction and Castiel wants so badly to give it to her. To at least help one of his sisters he made Fall. Dean had to understand Castiel had to do this.
Castiel hears a muffled rumbling and someone in the distance yell, "What was that?!" Castiel feels something in his chest clench as Dean says, "Whoa."
"What's going on?" Castiel demands, clenching the phone tighter as his heart rate increases, his worry for Dean and Sam skyrocketing. If they got hurt and he wasn't there to protect them...
"I think we got more company. Look, get your ass to the bunker. Alone. You hear me?" Dean snaps into the phone and Castiel takes a deep breath.
"Dean-" he begins but Dean cuts him off with a demanding, "Go, Cas!"
"Dean," Castiel tries again but a beeping fills his ear. He pulls the phone away and stares at it for a moment, his mind in a whirl. On one hand, he wants to get on a bus and try and make it to Dean as quickly as possible - he didn't even know where he was so that wasn't helpful - but on the other... Dean wants him at the bunker. Dean needs him at the bunker. There, Castiel would be safe and could await the return of Dean. Because Dean or Sam couldn't die. They both would live through this because that was what Winchesters do and Castiel knows that. He slowly hangs up the phone, glancing over at Hael. He wants to help her, he does, but Dean wants him at the bunker.
And so that's where Castiel will be. There wasn't a doubt in his mind he was doing the right thing. Dean and Sam, they need him just as much as Castiel needs them. He was a part of their family now and so, for once, Castiel will listen to Dean and go to the bunker. Go and sit with Kevin Tran until the brothers return. It's the least he could do for Sam and Dean. He slowly walks over to Hael, who stands up when he approaches.
His concern and fear for the Winchesters hasn't subsided. It probably fuels the urge to listen to Dean and go to the bunker. Alone. "Hael," he begins, feeling guilty for denying his help now but this is for Dean. "I can no longer help you. I have to go..." he pauses for one second and continues, "help someone very important to me."
"But... I don't understand," Hael says, confusion and disbelief passing along her pale face, "I'll come with you. We can see your friend together."
Castiel looks away, the guilt increasing but he can't take her with. If he disobeys Dean, it would only lead to more mistrust on Dean's side and he can't have that, never again. "It's complicated," he says, looking into her eyes and seeing just how upset she looked. "There could be trouble. It's best if I go alone. My..." he stops. My... what? My Dean? The word friend, it just doesn't suit what Dean is to him. They were something more than friends. Brother just didn't suit what Dean was either and he couldn't find the proper word. "My fri-friend," he trips over the word, tastes how wrong it on his tongue, but keeps going, no longer looking at Hael, "he... needs my help." He needs me. it was unspoken but it was there, in Castiel's mind.
"I need your help!" Hael says, voice laced in disbelief and hurt. Betrayal. Another person to add to Castiel's pile of guilt.
Castiel looks at her and tilts his head a bit, understanding on his face. "You can do this, Hael. This is your chance. To help people." he pauses, Dean's words repeating in his head. "Help yourself." she starts to shake her head, her blue eyes that could rival his own filling with tears. He lets out a small sigh. "I'm sorry," he says though it probably means nothing to her. He turns to leave, his hopes high for Hael; he feels like she could do a lot, for other people and herself, if she just tries hard enough.
"Castiel!" Hael snaps, clenching her fists and glaring at his back. He pauses, looking over his shoulder at her. "If you leave me here, alone, I swear it, Castiel, I will tell them where you are!" she threatens. It was easy to know who they were. The angels that are out for his head. He turns to her, his eyes narrowing. She continues, taking a step towards him, blue eyes darkened, "And they will hunt you. Until their last breath, they will seek revenage on the angel that did this, who destoryed Heaven!-"
"Stop." Castiel says, a warth like no other building up in him. He doesn't want to hear this. This painful truth that his brothers and sisters wanted him dead. Gone. Wanted revenge because he messed up so terribly bad.
"They will seek vengeance on you that will make God striking down Lucifer seem like child's play!" Hael continues on, that innocent, lost girl from before gone, now replaced with an angry, determined woman.
"You stop it," Castiel snarls, his shoulders hunching up, the absent of his wings forgotten as he imagines them bristling and expanding out with his anger.
"I will go on angel radio and tell them everything unless you help me, take me with!" Hael says, voice close to yelling, as she looks smug, thinking she got Castiel.
Castiel spans the space between them at a surprising speed for a new human whose growing weak and grabs her by her upper arms, glaring down at her. "Go ahead," he says, his voice dangerously low as he looks into her wide shocked eyes, "Tell them. You don't know where I'm going and you'll never know." he shoves her back, making her stumble back into a garbage can, boards of wood clattering to the ground. "I didn't ask for this! You must understand that, I didn't ask for this," he says, beginning to back away. "Don't even attempt to follow me or you'll regret it," he pauses and levels his gaze with her defeated, angry one, "You know what I'm capable of and I can still kill you, grace or no grace." he turns and leaves Hael behind, the guilt he had previously felt gone. Now it was time to listen to Dean and go to the bunker to wait to see him and Sam.
...
For the first time, Castiel dreamt. It was different from when he had entered Dean's dreams. He had known it was a dream, knew it wasn't really real. But this, this felt so real, he could swear it was happening. He dreamt of soft green eyes and pink lips pulled into a smile, of floppy brown hair and bright hazel eyes, of loud laughter and muffled snickers, of teasing words and harsh brickering, of flannel shirts and heavy boots. Of strong arms holding him and a gruff voice telling him he was needed. Of green eyes crinkling at the corners and a toothy smile. Of large hands gesturing and hazel eyes narrowing in amused annoyance. Of warm pies and cheeseburgers and beers and happiness and home.
Because, as Castiel is shaken awake by the bus driver, home isn't a place anymore, it isn't Heaven. It's two men, two men who he barged into the life of but they ended up turning his own upside down. Home is two men who look out for each other and him and see him as family. Home is Dean and Sam Winchester, home is hearing them laugh or seeing them smile. Home is hearing Dean say he needed him or seeing the way Sam smiles at him. Home is two men that Castiel sees as his family and would do anything for.
Castiel shuffles off the bus, thanking the driver for waking him once they reached Salina, Kanasas. The Greyhouse bus he had boarded, using what little money he had left, didn't go to Lebanon and so he would have to find a ride there or walk. He gives a yawn as he enters the station, stretching his arms, his muscles feeling bunched up. It was an odd feeling, one that he doesn't want to experience again. His feet are still sore from the walk to the bus station and they were beginning to throb in pain as he enters the bathroom. He feels a pressure down below and he knows humans well enough to know what that means. How to go about it, though, would be a bit strange but he manages.
Humans were such strong yet fragile creatures. Castiel sees why his Father loved them so much. They were such intriguing things. He splashes his face with water, running his wet fingers through his dark hair, making some stick down while other pieces flopped upwards. He grips the side of the sink, looking at himself in the grimy mirror. Nothing looked different about him, about use-to-be Jimmy Novak's body. Besides being a little pale and looking worn down, there's no physical difference. But Castiel sees it. He no longer sees his grace shining through, no longer sees the strong power he use to hold, no longer sees the thing that made him an angel. He leans forward, his forehead connecting with the reflective glass as he closes his eyes. He's human. So very human and seeing his own reflection is making it an even more harsh reality. It wasn't the sore feet or the sweet dreams or having to go the bathroom. It was truly seeing his grace gone from his eyes, something he use to see so easily when catching himself in the mirror.
He needs to move on. Being at the bunker will maybe make him feel better. At least he'll have the company of Kevin than feeling alone. And the thought of seeing Dean and Sam in the future gives him the ability to leave the bathroom and the station to travel the rest of the way to the bunker. As he steps outside, he bumps shoulders with a taller man in a coat. "Sorry," Castiel says, connecting eyes with the stranger.
Though, the stranger's eyes grow wide when they connect with his. "Castiel?" the man questions, surprise on his face.
Before Castiel could question him, the man was shoving him back into the station. Castiel's heel caught the corner of the door and he fell backwards, landing hard on his back. Pain shoots up his spine and he groans a little, leaning up on his elbows to gaze at the man standing in the doorway. "I didn't think we'd find you so soon," the man, one of his brothers, grins wickedly as an angel blade slips from his sleeve and into his hand. It gleams in the light streaming through the door, as if taunting Castiel.
Castiel scoots back as the man lets the door slam shut, fast approaching him. "Please. I do not want to hurt any more of you," Castiel says, almost begging, as he stares up at his brother.
His brother gives a harsh laugh. "You aren't the one with the angel blade, Castiel," he says, mockingly, as he holds it up, a wicked glint in his eye.
It hurts Castiel to see how much this brother is out for his blood. His eyes narrow a bit as he realizes the only way to get out of this was the hard way. He has already caused so much pain but he wasn't going to die for it, either. He couldn't do that to Dean. "I'm sorry," he says and hooks his foot behind his brother's ankle, pulling hard.
His brother falls backwards and Castiel jumps into action, pushing himself forward and grabbing at the hand holding the angel blade. But he's weaker and his brother has more energy. He shoves at Castiel, tightens his grip on the angel blade. Castiel digs his knee in his brother's gut, pressing down hard, and his brother makes a pained noise. His grip loosenes and Castiel manages to wrestle the angel blade away. With an expressionless face, he drives the angel blade home, a bright light filling the station briefly as he watches another one of his brothers die by his hand.
He staggers to his feet, breathing heavily as he looks around. No one had seen anything and for that, he was glad. He looks at the blade in his hand and to his brother's lifeless form. He needs to move; killing the slight-angel more than likely sent a beacon out. He slips the angel blade inside his trenchcoat, squares his shoulders, and leaves. Another death to add to the very many he has caused. The list wouldn't stop growing and it frightens Castiel a little. Maybe, once he gets to the bunker and settles down and stays there, the angels will calm down and he can actually help than having to kill.
With a heavy heart, he starts his way to the bunker. He needs to get there and fast before anyone else out for his head comes along.