Title: The Sacrifice
Author: Vasiliki (May 6, 2011)
Beta-reader: un-betaed (please, if anyone wants to take the time to beta it, you're most welcome!)
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: unrequited Castiel/Dean, echoes of unconsumed Castiel/Michael and Castiel/Balthazar.
Warnings: ANGST!
Author's Notes: This is the second fic I wrote after 6x19. Spoilers up to the promo for 6x20.
Summary: Castiel is an angel, yet experiences human emotions, and makes the ultimate sacrifice an angel could do for love.
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When my Father willed Creation into being, there were no humans on Earth. His Thought willed an infinitesimal explosion to happen, and matter came into being. Slowly, stars and galaxies spread in the vault of the universe, plants on earth, fish in the sea, and birds in the sky. The man and woman were meant for the Garden of Eden. Yet, my Father had given them what He had not given us angels (as I believed back then): free will and they chose to create their own destiny, away from the Garden. My elder brother, the Lightbringer, was glad they proved to be fallible, like himself. I thought they were bold and beautiful, and praised my Father's work.
When my Father chose, in his infinite wisdom, to incarnate a piece of Himself in a woman's womb, he sent an Archangel to deliver the news to her. The Bible says she rejoiced, but as I've told Dean once, this Book is full or errors and omissions - the truth is that she felt fear. The Archangel was fierce, and at the beginning she thought she was losing her eyesight and her mind. Her terror grew when weeks passed and she realized she was pregnant with child. But, like all women who also happen to be born mothers, she loved dearly the child when she gave birth to him, and cared lovingly for him for all his short life. I watched the steps of the Son closely, for my Father had me stationed on Earth for the two millennia preceding his birth, and I remained thereafter.
Among all the people I've met in my long time on Earth, it's Sam Winchester that most resembled the Son - for despite his human faults and even his inhuman actions, when he was offered the bitter chalice, he accepted to drink from it, and leave his beloved ones behind. I found it ironic he was a vessel for Lucifer. But his brother, Dean, being a vessel for Michael I could easily see: they were both cocky, impetuous, and above-average handsome.
Yes, I had often looked at Michael's bright face and rejoiced, and not-so-secretly yearned for his Grace to embrace mine. His beauty and light and power offered solace to my siblings - we would all die for him in the field without hesitation or second thoughts.
When I was sent to retrieve the Righteous Man's soul, I was astonished at its brightness, so similar to that of my older brother. It called me like a soothing beacon in Hell's scorching darkness. I touched it and my Grace flared, my battle wounds healed, and I ascended on the surface of the Earth like a burst of lightning erupting from the ground and razing everything in a mile's radius.
I mended his shallowly buried body, laid the soul inside it, and waited for the man to draw his first breath and come forth. He was astonishing to watch, as he shielded his eyes from the sun, and walked on the dusty road, and drank stolen water. He was astonishing to watch as he fell on the floor, and got wounded by the glass shards, and covered his bleeding ears. I had done all this to him, as I could have never done them to Michael. I felt intoxicated on the power I yielded over him, and I was drawn to him as a moth is drawn to a flame.
But Dean's spirit was as unyielding as Michael's, and instead of thanking me for saving him, and accepting my superiority over him, he fought me all the way. He stabbed me in the chest, disrespected me, insulted me, used my need for him (a need unprecedented to an angel of the Lord for a mere human) to make me betray Zachariah, in full knowledge that I was signing my death sentence, so that he'd achieve his purpose to save his brother, lied to me, banished me with the sigil I myself had taught him, let me sacrifice myself for his cause again and again… So many infringements.
And yet, I always remained loyal to Dean. Always. I even denied my true nature for the sake of his affection. If my angelic self scared or appalled him, I'd pretend to be a human to be allowed to stay by his side. Once he told me I used "to be a human, or at least act like one", yet he didn't realize that was all it was: an act I put on for his sake. If I couldn't have him any other way, I'd condemn myself to an eternity of being confined to a vessel's body, answering his sudden calls, and being used for his purposes. He never cared to learn more about me, he never asked me about my life in Heaven, about my long existence before meeting him. I knew I was serving him without getting back what I yearned for, but I had accepted that that was my destiny: to keep serving him in order not to lose him.
Until the day, when my old friend Balthazar returned from the dead. His presence in my life changed everything. Balthazar reminded me what it was I yearned for, which Dean wouldn't or couldn't offer me. Balthazar joined me in flight, and laughed with me, and enveloped me in his Grace. Balthazar asked how my day had been, and just wanted to spend time in my company, and didn't call me only when he needed something from me. I had fought next to him too many times to count, and he was the only one who spoke for me in Heaven when Raphael had decreed my brutal punishment.
Yet, the Balthazar I remembered used to be a great and honourable soldier, and now had changed. The most important person to him was himself, and would never jeopardize his own life to save someone else's, while I had saved Dean from Hell because he had offered his soul in exchange for Sam's life. I appreciated greatly Balthazar's friendship and his help in the civil war, but I didn't desire him. I desired the affections of the one I couldn't have.
Still, the fact I was now reminded of what it was to have someone by your side, who believes in you and supports you in your decisions, gave me the strength and determination to do things the Winchesters wouldn't have approved of. I teamed up with Crowley, now effectively King of Hell. As long as Dean and Sam didn't learn about it, my relationship with them wouldn't be affected anyway.
But, inevitably, my actions affected my relationship with myself.
I don't know where I walk anymore, I tread in shadow. My road has been long, and I'm very tired. I've strayed from the right path, although it was for good reasons. I'm desperately searching for a beacon in the darkness surrounding me, yet there's no soothing light for me as there had been in Hell. I keep thinking of the final desperate battle I fought to reach Dean's soul, and the balm it offered me when my wounded Grace touched it, and I grieve that such a moment can never take place again. Dean would never on his own offer me his soul to touch, would never even think of it, except of course if Sam's life depended on it. Sam would offer me his soul to touch, if it meant helping humanity, because he's giving like that.
A vast hollowness echoes inside me, and it almost feels like my Grace is missing. I was miserable becoming human, when Team Free Will fought to prevent the Apocalypse. I second-guessed myself countless times and I've anguished greatly for many months over my reluctant decision to accept Crowley's help in finding Purgatory with its millions of souls, and the terrifying consequences for me. Yet, I found that I couldn't but keep on serving Dean. I remain loyal to him. I'll always be. Even if he comes to hate me at the end of all this, at least he'll be alive and safe.
Three of the basic ingredients for the spell that unlocks the door to Purgatory are a firstborn monster's blood, a human's pure soul, and an angel's Grace. Crowley has obtained the first one, and I believe that Sam is going to offer the second one willingly - I'm going to rip the third one from me in a few minutes, and I can only hope it's still untainted enough for the ancient magic to work.
When my Grace is consumed in the Dark spell, and I become human permanently, the King of Hell is going to collect his price from me in exchange for his help- the most horrific price he could have demanded from an angel of the Lord, the price I unwillingly agreed to pay him in order to assure the Winchesters' dream lives on.
My final wish, as I prepare for my ultimate sacrifice standing opposite Crowley, is that Dean is not there to see my eyes turn black.