Tittle: Heaven's Incarnation

Status: Not finished.

Pairing(s): Castiel/Reader

Summary:

Warnings: Curses, but it is the Winchesters after all. Mentions of wounds, maybe blood- not too graphic.

Word Count:

Notes: First time writing Supernatural.

Castiel knew he shouldn't have. He knew it, but he did it anyways.

What was left for him, anyways, beside an apocalypse on Earth? He had already rebelled, there was no Heaven for him anymore.

Because he didn't really care about the consequences it might bring, he cared about you.

You were well known as a hunter who had too many close people- you always seemed to be calling different ones every day, and even Sam and Dean couldn't figure out where all your friends came from. More importantly, they wondered how you managed to keep them safe. You had a knack for keeping secrets. And you seemed too mysterious every once in a while, even though you were practically an open book.

You were too emotional, and sometimes it got the best of you in a hunt, but you somehow always managed to get the job done. The brothers didn't even bother to ask how anymore, they just went on with it.

But the problem weren't the brothers-they were practically your brothers too, no, it was with Castiel.

Now, the angel of the Lord had no trouble admitting that yes, he did in fact share a profound bond with Dean, but he shared one with you, and it was completely different. He just felt it was different, but couldn't place out how or why.

Generally, when you weren't around, he never did a single mistake. But the times you were there, he was just so… clumsy, tripping over a gun you left on the floor, stammering on his words, sometimes he even thought too fast and didn't reason his actions at all.

And you just seemed to have a way to understand him. You just… did. Whenever he had something going on, and snapped at the brothers, you never blamed him, instead being softer with him.

Whenever he was confused, all he had to do was look at you with his signature tilt of the head and frown for you to get the hint that he needed explaining.

Whenever he smiled, you smiled too.

He was grateful for it, he really was.

And he knew that he was being selfish, but he wanted to see you more and more often.

So he did.

He started randomly appearing as chances occurred, and startled everyone as well.

However, Castiel now knew better than to pop in while you and the brothers were half asleep, seeing as how last time he got a regular (for motels, at least), rock-hard pillow in the face, your courtesy of course, thinking he was someone else.

That did not stop him from getting into the Impala and almost giving Dean a heart attack as the latter halted to a sudden stop to catch his breath- all the while giving Castiel a speech of how he should not do that. Ever. You always laughed at Dean's misfortune, and that was when he knew he wanted to hear that laugh every day.

But on the last few weeks, he had avoided you.

He didn't want you to see him as anything else but what he really was, and he couldn't be himself if he was making small mistakes every few seconds.

The only clear option had seemed to just not talk to you, and that was exactly what he did.

And now, when he popped in (while Dean was driving), you did not react. At all.

-.

Even though everyone heard the flutter of wings, Dean still stirred to a stop.

But what was more concerning was that you didn't even crack a smile, you just kept on staring out the window, a forgotten pack of candy worms on your lap.

So, naturally, Sam (the most observant of the brothers) asked you, "are you okay? That was one hell of a scare."

Instead of bringing on a comment related to "more like a heaven of a scare" as you usually did, you replied absentmindedly, "Oh, believe me, I'm internally screaming", now remembering the candies and chewing on one.

Sam looked at his brother for help, but Dean seemed too busy complaining about "the stupid feathery angel-butt". Sam sighed, knowing the older would never see something unless it was right in front of his face. In need for some peace and quiet, he said, "will you just stop whining? You sound like a five-year old."

Dean cut his speech short to glare at his younger brother, and grumbled in a low voice before starting to drive again.

Cas seemed deadly set on looking everywhere but you, and you wouldn't say it aloud, but it kind of hurt you. It felt like he'd rather not be there if it meant he had to interact with you. And it just made your tongue dry and a weird sensation on your heart.

And the angel, being oblivious to anything concerning emotions, did not notice it.

Of course not, you scoffed, getting a small stare from Sam, who was getting worried.

Castiel was quick to explain that he had found what seemed like a vampire's nest not too far from the place you had originally planned going to, so Dean took a right turn to the city.

And just as fast as he had appeared, Castiel left, leaving you with a sense of dread. You were quick to swallow it, and returned to looking out the window, furthering Sam's concern for you.

You noticed it as you got out of the car, a glaze that seemed to tear holes into your skull.

You brushed it off, with a rare and emotionless mask that you only wore when you worked a case and had to play your part as an FBI agent (you still couldn't believe how many times you'd had to show a doubting man that you're very skilled indeed in fighting). You managed to blurt out, "we should split up and search for any leads."

"No way I'm letting you go alone, pudding," Dean immediately reacted, looking at you through the rear mirror with a raised eyebrow.

"That's why I'll go with you," you offered.

Sam seemed to want to protest, knowing that now he wouldn't have a chance to talk to you alone, but Dean's voice cut him off.

"You'll be alright on your own, Sammy?"

"…yeah, sure."

And with that, the conversation was over. You were kind of thankful that none of them were ones for small talk, except you. It gave you a small advantage at times to get information out of innocent people, they just seemed to trust you easily. Of course it was easier to trust someone your height and wide, innocent eyes rather than 6 feet tall men that looked tired and annoyed most of the time. You didn't blame them at all, you were sure you'd be freaked out too if the brothers showed up in your doorstep asking you weird, invasive questions.

Honestly, your good luck with victims who would only want to talk to you was mildly surprising.

-.

It didn't take long for you to find the place, or the vamp's nest, as Dean put it, since several bloodless corpses had been found around the area, and the common place was an abandoned warehouse. Obviously. You wondered why any other hunter had found this first, but then again, the disappearances weren't that noticeable.

The drive to get there didn't even take you more than ten minutes.

With a large knife in hand, a syringe full of dead man's blood in the other, plus a gun hidden in your coat's pocket just in case, you nodded to the brothers, meaning you were ready to go in.

And boy, you wished you hadn't.

As soon as you got inside, two men grabbed both Sam and Dean, but they didn't seem like vampires. You were left standing in the middle of the room, staring at someone who you wished you'd never see again.

Zachariah.

The hate you felt inside you whenever he talked should not be possible, but here you were. God, how you hated that smile.

You must have made a face, because he said,

"Don't give me that scowl. This is a time for happiness."

"What's there to be happy about? It's the apocalypse," Sam narrowed his eyes, struggling to break free with no avail.

You then realized, had Cas just ratted you out?

…he wouldn't, would he?

But you could only imagine how much he'd be praised if he did. You had no right to blame him.

"I'm not talking to you," with his smile still on his face, he turned to you, as you held the knife in front of you as a threatening stance. Not threatening enough for an angel apparently, because he kept talking. "You're part of the prophecy too. An important role in the most high-rated movie. Doesn't it excite you?"

You frowned,"not really. Should it?"

He nodded. "You are Heaven's incarnation. I think it should be enough."

To his surprise, you cracked a small grin.

Then the grin got bigger.

Then you flat-out laughed.

Until you received stares from both angels and humans in the room, which made you turn into Zachariah, frowning. "You're… You're not kidding, are you?"

"No."

"Oh."

Slowly, you turned to Dean and Sam, who were placed behind you and had stopped to try and break free from the angels. 'What do I do now?' you mouthed to them, but they seemed to be processing the information still.

By the time you once again turned to Zachariah, he was gone, and so were the other angels.

Nobody spoke.

"…well, this is awkward," you admitted, scratching the back of your head as the Winchesters regained their breath.

"You tell me," Dean said, before looking up at you. "Did you know this, (Y/N)?

"I didn't, I swear," you frowned,"I would've told you if I knew."

"Is everyone around me just destined to either die or suffer a terrible fate?" Sam popped in, before Dean had the same doubts as you.

"That sonofabitch!" He gasped.

Sam exchanged confused looks with you.

"Cas just rat us out!"

Then the younger brother's eyes widened as your frown deepened.

"Castiel, you better get here this instant before I kick your feathery ass!"

"You are starting to sound like a mother, Dean," Sam grumbled before you heard a flutter of wings.

For revenge, or maybe because of the shock, you looked anywhere but the confused angel.

"What did I do?"

"You didn't tell us!" Dean punched the angel, but you were sure it hurt him more than it hurt the latter. You were sure Castiel was even more confused at this point, if it was possible.

"Didn't tell you what?"

"That (Y/N) is basically Heaven's manager!"

Castiel seemed just as surprised, if not more, judging by the way the features in his face changed.

He looked over to you, probably asking for any confirmation. You refused to look at him in the eye. Thankfully, you didn't have to, because Sam nodded, hanging his head low.

You didn't want him to feel like it was his fault, so you ran up to him and hugged him tight.

You missed the look in the angel's eyes as Sam hugged you with twice your strength, apologizing. You shushed him, telling him it was okay, and it wasn't his fault. None of it really was, actually (technically, the apocalypse starting was on him, but Dean did break the first seal- and he wouldn't have if he hadn't died, which was all on Lilith). But the brothers seemed to be magnets for trouble, you knew you'd eventually get caught in their problem. You were okay with it.

"What does it mean?" Dean interrupted the hug, glaring at Castiel.

"I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?" Dean grabbed a fistful of the rebel's tie and lifted him so they could see each other eye to eye. He scowled. "Then what the hell do we keep you around for?"

"Dean, leave him," you grabbed him by the shoulder, and spoke in a soft tone. "Please."

He reluctantly agreed, setting the slightly shorter man on his feet again.

And a few hours later, both brothers were deadly set on finding out what the hell your new position representing Heaven meant, to no avail.

You were sure that you were getting a headache- who made the letters in the books so small?

Castiel had not been allowed to leave by Dean, who had pointed a gun –even though it wouldn't hurt the angel- at him, ordering him to sit down and stay. So he did. And, boy, did he take his orders seriously. He hadn't moved an inch since he touched the uncomfortable couch. You made a mental note to tell the poor guy not to do things he didn't want to. You were sure it wouldn't really help, he was a soldier, but still.

You held an open book in your hands and no relevant information.

Perfect.

Just the way you wanted to spend your Saturday night.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "What am I supposed to do? Just... stand there and survive?"

"You know, that's not a bad idea at all," Dean grumbled.

You sighed again. You expected the answer. As usual, Sam had half his head inside the book and Castiel sat unmoving. If it wasn't for the slight movement of his chest whenever he breathed, you'd say you had a real life-sized statue in your motel room. A very realistic one.

You mentally slapped yourself. You were supposed to figure out what to do, not check up on the others every few seconds.

"Maybe we should call Zacky and ask him what in hell am I," you suggested, closing your book and leaving it on the table.

"More like what in heaven are you," Sam muttered under his breath, most of his attention on the book in front of him.

You smiled. At least that was better than getting no response at all.

You were still pretty sure that whatever they wanted you to be, you wouldn't do it. You'd just screw the dialogues and improvise.

Wow.

You did really take after the brothers.

Except you were usually gentle. You never recalled a single time in which you were truly, genuinely angry. And you'd rather keep it that way, thanks.

Eventually, you got tired and dragged Sam outside to "take a breath of fresh air, you nerd". You were 99% sure that Dean wouldn't kill Cas anyway. The other 1% was sure that he'd at least try.

As soon as you and Sam left, Dean turned to Cas.

"We have a lot to talk about," he said.

Castiel turned to him, still in the same spot as before.

"Yes, we do."

-.

By the time you came back with bags in your hands, well, the same books were in the exact same places and Dean was laughing. Oh well, it was better than having an angel corpse in the middle of the room.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked with brows furrowed, mostly concerned about his brother's sanity.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Dean squeezed out between laughs.

"Okay…-"

"We come bearing food!" you announced, holding it high in the air. "And pie," you added.

At the mention of his favorite dessert, Dean's head perked up and he immediately grabbed made a move for it. For this once, you let him have it without a fight as you sat down on the crappy motel chair, wincing as it creaked under your weight. You made a mental note to find the best motel and not the nearest one.

Castiel, as confused as ever, continued to sit.

"You want some food?" Sam asked as he started to devour his salad. Poor thing.

"No, I have no need for it."

The younger Winchester shrugged and went back to eating, at the same time as you opened one of the bags to find your favorite food.

Dean swore he saw sparkles in your eyes as you reached for it.

He could understand why Castiel was romantically interested in you (even though the guy barely knew he was), Dean saw you as his sister, so after giving the angel a long speech about how he would kick his angel butt and keep him alive if he ever hurt you, he deemed Castiel as a good suitor for you. How many times could he say that his best friend was in love with the one he thought of as a sister?

He had just been explaining a few things to Cas when you barged in ("And you better do as she says, all the time. Otherwise she'll fry your ass." "But why would she fry my-?" Cue for Dean laughing and for you and Sam to enter the room).

He had seen the way you looked at Cas, and the way Cas looked at you.

Young love, he thought.

-.

You had finished dressing in your own, separate motel room (it took Dean entering your bathroom while you were naked to convince him that you needed your own) when you heard a knock coming from the door.

Automatically, your hunter reflexes were set on alarm and you grabbed the closest thing, a gun (even though you already had a knife with you all the time -something you learned from a bad experience-, it never hurt to be careful), and hid it behind your back as you got closer to the door, slightly opening it to reveal…

Castiel, the angel you had fallen for.

Seemed like you weren't the only one with a hand (technically, he had both hands) in your back.

Your eyes widened and you threw the gun to your bed, a nervous smile forming in your lips.

Turning back to him, you realized you were being rude, and you stepped aside, letting him in.

He nodded gratefully, and entered the room, looking around in curiosity.

You silently closed the door behind you, eyes just as open as ever.

You watched as he slowly took his hands from behind his back, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a box of your favorite brand of chocolates, and a small plushie. You raised a hand to your mouth, it was beautiful. "Dean explained to me that I should give you something, but I had no idea if these gifts were correct, and the cashier told me that I should also get you chocolates and flowers and maybe I went a little offhand with it, but- did I make you cry? Dean told me it was bad when someone cried-"

You silenced him with a soft, "thank you."

It was the sweetest thing someone had ever done for you, no wonder you were in tears. You ran to him and hugged him, thanking him once more. You were sure that a teardrop or two (or several) were already running down your cheek.

Confusedly, he half-wrapped his arms around you, opening his mouth to talk, yet you interrupted him, "these are happy tears. These are okay."

He nodded, not quite getting it.

"Thank you, Cas."