It was finally over. His worthless existence, his lost cause, hos long, depressing pain he'd been stuck with for so long. And he rejoiced because of it for the first time in years. Happiness filled his body for the first time as he tied the rope around his ceiling fan, pulling the finished loop over his neck. He stood on his toes in the desk chair, swaying slightly but he found strength in the thought of his end. No one would mind if he was gone anyway. Heaven was in shambles, Sam and Dean were dead, and his purpose was gone.
Hell didn't seem like such a bad place. Surely it was where he was destined. It was his fault. Everything was his fault.
And so with a final look at his feet he took in one last breath, and kicked the stool out from under him, he struggled at first, but forcefully relaxed as his lungs pleaded for air. He thought about her, about her demon snark and her beautiful thorny power that once touched him as intimately as her lips. He found himself smiling. What was that thing she said? "We're going to Heaven…"
"Clarence!" as black blossomed over his vision, he heard a familiar voice crying out. It was probably Leena, here to collect rent, only to find her tenant hanging from the ceiling fan. But her voice was different. Her voice was…beautiful.
The next thing Castiel knew was that he was on the floor, the restraint of the rope around his neck gone and air flying into his lungs. As his vision slowly returned, he saw a woman's face shaking him.
"God damnit Castiel!" His real name. No one knew his angelic name, he's been living under some made up alias for sometime that it always was foreign to hear his old name.
It took him some time before her face cleared in the light. "Meg?" he rasped.
"What the fuck were you thinking?"
He didn't have an answer, and to be honest he wasn't sure if she would believe anything he'd say. So instead he stared up at that face he was never able to save, the one demon he trusted and lost. The lover and his forgotten friend. "Meg."
"Yeah."
"You're alive?."
"It wasn't easy," she was helping him up, concern evident in her meatsuit's brown eyes. "What the hell were you thinking? Were you trying to kill yourself?"
"How did you know where I was?" he asked instead, changing the subject.
"That's not important," she muttered, glancing around his small apartment. "What, already give your stuff away?"
"There was nothing to give, and no one to give it to."
Meg grunted, standing up from her crouch. Cas looked like hell, thinner than he used to be. His brown hair was also graying, which made him look older, and frankly look even more broken. Then again, Castiel was already old, having had been around for thousands of years until his entire world seemed to collapse. But his appearance shocked her. And then it hit her. His vessel shouldn't age...
"You're human."
He shrugged, not even bothering to acknowledge her surprise. A lot of things can happen when you spend fifteen years in your own hell. Castiel rummaged around his small living room, picking up his cut rope and undoing the knots.
"What are you gonna do with that," she muttered, pointing at the rope
"It's for me," he replied, using his teeth to get out the fifth coil. "I'm tired, Meg. I'm useless, and I just want it to be over.
She sighed, snatching the rope from him and tossing it. Fucking idiot. "I didn't claw my ass outta hell just to see you up and kill yourself. Look at you, Cas! You look like a fucking elephant sat on you! You think your life is so bad because you don't have wings anymore? Well tough, because I'm not letting you kill yourself."
He looked from his empty hands to her face. "You're serious."
"Damn straight. Look," he kneeled beside him again, running a hand though his hair so that she could yank his head to the side so that she could look him over. His neck was bruised, which triggered something inside her. Something that made her protective and disgustingly sympathetic. "I just got outta hell, and I'm hungry. You look like you haven't eaten in days. Let's get you something to eat, people have to eat."
She managed to get him to his feet and walk him over to the little dinner table just outside the kitchen. His bruises on his neck were getting worse, turning an ugly shade of purple and green. He also walked with a slight limp, his muscles probably aching from little-to-no use over the past few days.
When she got him over to the tiny table he just sat there staring at her, as if he hated her for saving his life. You're welcome, Dickhead, she thought to herself as she rummaged his cabinets. Cat food and tuna.
"You have a cat?" she asked him, watching his head roll from her to the table.
"Had one. Just like everything else. Dead."
"Fun."
She set the tuna can into the old, rusted can opener, the smell attacking her nose as she dug into his drawers, pulling out a plastic spoon.
"Eat," she ordered, setting it down in front on him. "Or I'll shove it down your throat."
"Bitch," he replied, forking it into his mouth.
"Look, Cas, I don't want to play mommy. I came back hoping for an angel. What the hell happened to you?"
He looked up at her, spooning the fork in the fish meat. "You were gone, Sam and Dean were dead…I couldn't handle myself.
"I went to heaven to see them. The angels were rebuilding heaven. God even brought Gabriel and Balthazar home. But I wanted to see the Winchesters. They were my family.
"And I just…left."
She glared at him. "That's not all."
"No. I went mad. Ripped out my grace. Fell here."
He seemed so miserable, and Meg could relate, especially since she'd spent what felt like thousands of years in hell. Poor bastard.
"You need sleep."
"I don't want to sleep. It's like temporary death. Wonderful while it's happening until it ends."
"Finish your fucking food and get to sleep, Castiel. I wont ask twice."
"Fucking bitch," he hissed, almost throwing his chair out of his way before slamming the bedroom door.
"Great idea, go see the broken angel, keep him from capping himself. What a wonderful life you lead, Meg."
Wish a huff she left his mess on the table and threw herself on his couch, cursing herself for even going through this.
It's gonna be a long, long year.