Solitude

There was a time when Castiel was an angel of the lord, if you ask him now, no doubt he'll still say it is so. But though you can lie to your enemies, lie to your friends, and even lie to yourself, Castiel knew the truth. He just didn't want to know it.

Laid up in the bunker with the last effects of the witch's spell slowly wearing off, Castiel- no, Cas now- found himself in a rare moment of solitude. Rare, not because he can't find the opportunity for it, but rare because he'd been actively avoiding it.

He smiled slightly to himself, avoiding problems and hoping they'll go away, how very human of him. He'd been doing research for Sam and Dean when they'd deemed him still too weak for hunting and in his free time, he'd been browsing through the television's entertainment options. He needed no sleep, no food or the need to shower for hygiene, Cas could watch an entire series in a day if he so wished.

But right now there was no hunt on and Sam needed his room for sleeping and Cas found himself in the library, trying to distract himself with a book. But solitude found him and wrest his attention away from Sherlock Holmes. He was remembering and for an angel who has lived for many millennia, there are many things that he remembers.

It's a shame that the most vivid memories are usually the most painful. In his mind, Cas can see himself repeatedly inflicting pain and death; on the angels who had opposed him, on the demons who had gotten in his way and on the innocents who'd suffered for Heaven's whims.

Cas can remember the beauty, but beauty had become elusive, hiding itself away from the ugliness in him.

What did it mean to be an angel of the lord? Cas wasn't sure anymore, he was doubting every command that he'd accepted as God's word. The doubt wasn't new but the intensity was and it tormented him. Questions of faith and self were so intertwined he couldn't separate them even if he tried.

He very suddenly thought back to the brief period of time when he was human. It was a time filled with anxiety, fear, and uncertainty. But he can remember moments of joy and clarity he'd never before experienced as an angel in all his long existence. An angel can feel emotions and with prolonged exposure to and interaction with humanity, the emotions can become more complex and varied. But until Cas had had his grace taken away, he hadn't known that he was still missing so much.

It was like only knowing one flavor of ice-cream for so long that you'd think it revolutionary to have another four flavors to choose from, only to later discover that human ingenuity meant any flavor under heaven could be incorporated into ice-cream. To stress this analogy further, it should be noted that not all those flavors necessarily taste good.

As a human, Cas' emotions were still familiar to him but the nuances he'd missed as an angel were clear as day to him as a human. He'd felt everything his body experienced, there was no celestial filter between the world and Cas when he'd been merely mortal. Paradoxically, the memories now plaguing him were not so crystal clear. His early years were hazy to his human mind, as if it simply could not comprehend the vast history Cas had lived. The long past events causing pain to him hid themselves away behind the defenses of a human mind. The more recent events had still troubled him but they were easily avoided in order to deal with the more urgent task of trying to not die.

Only recently had Cas regained his own grace. He had hated the feel of another angel's grace within him, it had been a reminder that he was capable of terrible things. Not that he really needed another, it seemed that since Falling Cas couldn't do anything right without royally messing it up in one way for another. His latest disaster involved the release of an ancient adversary no one knew anything about or knew how to deal with. But maybe it had nothing to do with his Fall, according to Naomi, he had always been a screw up.

Cas missed the times when solitude had been a friend and he could reflect and remember without feeling the burden of his mistakes. Now he would close his eyes and see the death of friends, he would feel his own hands beating his closest friend bloody and stare up once again into the eyes of a familiar stranger hoping to see a spark of recognizance. Throughout the ages, violence had been no stranger to him, after all as an angel of the lord, Castiel had also been a warrior of god. His brief time as a human had changed him irrevocably, the things he saw couldn't be unseen, and the things he now understood couldn't be ignored.

Sitting in a chair in the library, the book forgotten in his hands, Cas was lost in the past and the troubles of the future. He couldn't forget the past and he was damned if he knew anything about what the future would bring. It was times like this when he envied humans the way they can drink their problems away, he was afraid there wasn't enough liquor in the bunker for him to forget. Anyway, Dean would probably kill him if he drank all the alcohol. He smiled slightly at the thought of a pissed off Dean and then the smile faded as he remembered the last time he'd seen Dean angry.

What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just move on and get over it? He knew it wasn't truly Dean who had nearly killed him, just like he wasn't himself when he had attacked Dean. But it one thing to know a fact, it's quite another to fully accept and believe in it.

Dean found him in the morning still sitting in the chair and staring off into space, a pensive look on his face. But as he entered the library, Cas turned to him and smiled. Just one look reminded him why he chose humanity over heaven. The agonizing over past decisions and traumatic events all seemed worth it when Dean smiled in return. When it came down to it, if asked, Cas would always chose Dean. Whether that's right or wrong, he doesn't know but God forgive him, he's not sure he cares anymore.