"2014 and ? "
When he opened his eyes, he crossed those of Risa who stared at him ... His last ones remained lifeless ... He turned on his back ... Looking at the ceiling above ... Listening the silence in an echo ...
He had sent them to death, deliberately, Castiel knew it ... He obeyed, not by loyalty but just because he was tired, used and he hoped, in this building, find an end, a little bit more honorable that his miserable existence ...
That smelled the death ... Even the air coming from the outside through the broken windows, brought only the smell of the decomposition and infection...
Why was he still alive? Why was the death forbidden him?
He had done everything so that she joins him on this journey but she still refused this last dance ... Even now ... Again and again...
He felt the blood of Risa flowing between his fingers ... She never loved him. She thought, him, Castiel, had the whole place alongside Dean while in fact, he was nothing more for him for a long time ...She just needed someone to hate for the indifference of the man she loved and who, in return, had no interest other than the oblivion into sex with her. Dean was not more than the shadow of what he had been ... It was not this one that Castiel had followed in his quest without hope, but the memory of what he was before the Apocalypse and the advent of Lucifer, his divine brother, in Sam's body, his human brother .
The plague of 2014 ... Devastation ... Death ...
His brothers of light left the paradise, leaving him behind, the ultimate punishment for his betrayal ... The angels had wanted the Apocalypse but not of the one who was offered to them...
In time, Castiel lost his powers and by losing his powers, he lost his bond with Dean ... This last one didn't look at him more than as one of his soldiers…Keeping for him, nevertheless, a special place… Compared to the past ... Common memories….
A truncated glance such as he was the one who pushed Castiel to his end...
The Chitiqua Camp which he joined shortly after the death of Bobby ...
Bobby, paraplegic and ill ... In a fatal act, a gun in his mouth ... It was Dean who discovered the old hunter... Face exploded as was it now on his life ... He was never the same after that fateful day ... Castiel either…
Dean got lost in the woman's arm, without becoming attached to any... Drowned himself to the alcohol without drunkenness….Castiel looked after him... He didn't have more than that to do. Dean ended up irritating to see the former angel keep still standing, while himself crumbled.
He made a gesture that he regretted later, but so few ... He sent to the house of Castiel, the chaste human-angel ... Meredith, a whore who roamed the different camps, exchanging her charms against all drugs susceptible to make her dreaming... Drugs to avoid this world of desolation and death.
Castiel was sleeping ... His body needed it more than his mind ... He opened his eyes on the naked young woman who got astride on him ... The rest was nothing more than a man's reaction ... Impassive nor sharing ... Physical act which gave him no pleasure ... Just surprise ...
It was not that who lost the hybrid ... It was this strange powder that she handed him then sharing ... This pernicious venom ...
He knew but he did nothing to stop it... For a short while, finally, feel free ...
And it was then, the beginning of his fall ...
Dean realized his mistake too late and he did nothing to save his friend from the abyss ... At the bottom, he felt that Castiel, stoned, looked happier or less unhappy that he was wandered into the camp in search of yesterday ... Dean worried no more of anything, because nothing more touched him ... He was already dead for a long time and Castiel also... They would fall so together…
He moved away from Castiel, each day more and more, and more he moved away from him, more Castiel felt over this distance, a betrayal, rejection...And he sank into his forfeiture in which he managed, however, sometimes , an appearance of balance ...
He took the appearance of hippie but without the deliverance and the peace that should have accompanied this strange choice ... Young women followed him in his psychedelic delirium ... Castiel never found pleasure in the act of love ... Just a vaporous pleasure in his forever scarred body...
They never kissed him, he refused that...
They never stayed, he didn't love them as they wished...
That day, he knew ... When the Dean of the future, sent them to death. He knew that his friend came to the end of his journey and he would accompany him in this last fight ...
That evening, when they got ready, he remembered the past and wondered what would have happened if all this, him, the angel didn't sided with his humans.
He always came to the same conclusion ... 2014 "The End" ... Fate road...
He smiled when he entered beside Risa, in the mouth of the wolf... He prayed for a quick death ...
He had swallowed some pills of amphetamines, a bottle of sour wine ... Denied access to his room ... He wanted to lost himself...Die alone inside of himself...
He felt the end of Dean ... No sorrow, he had already cried on his former friend, he wouldn't cry on the death of his leader...
Gunshots, machete and then a pain in the back and night...
Wake up and see death all around... Except his own ...
Castiel finally found the courage to get up ... He groaned when he leaned on his arms ... A pain in the lower back ... He felt the blood stuck to his shirt ... He raised it ... A deep gash on his side ... The blade had to rip on his belt ... He bit his lips ... Don't draw the attention of the croats ... He laughed quietly throwing his head back ...
Which irony ... Him who wanted to die and there, who was fighting, now, to survive ...
His disheveled hair, his old shirt hanging outside his pants without form ... He laughs again, but it was tinged with deep distress...
He got up and went to the broken bay window… From there, he saw him… Lying on the ground …
He put his hand stained with blood in his hair and felt suddenly abandoned, alone…
For the 1st time, fully gave up to himself…
He bent over and caught a weapon on the ground which he placed in his belt… Then retraced his steps and took back his machine-gun … He checked it, put the safety security and placed it over his shoulder …
He bent over the body of Dean … Broken neck, the passed away glance … Finally free and him, always prisoner …
He kept crouching a long time, in the tall grass … His wound reminded him to the reality … The lack also …
He had cramps … He took his box of amphetamines, swallowed the last pills and threw it away, empty…
He couldn't leave him there … He had to bring him back to the camp … Bury him…Must to
find the pickup…
When he arrived to Chiquata, he immediately noticed the smashed gate and Luke's body lying in front of the entrance ... He parked on the side ... He saw the movement ... Tried to see more clearly, wrinkling his eyes ... Stranger, far away ...
It was too late ... He started up again and left forever the cursed camps ... At the back of the pickup, under an old blanket ... Dean rested… Castiel would have given anything to be in his place...
An old cemetery at the exit of what was, the city ...
Castiel didn't bury him ... He opened a crypt and placed his body, arms crossed over his chest, on a marble slab ... He didn't pray either ... What's the use ... A glance outside and nothing let still believe there could be a God ...
He closed the railing and broke the key in the lock ... A last glance, the forehead resting on the grid ... He felt suddenly his heart squeezing up so hard as he choked and he began to cry collapsing on the ground and pebbles ... The pain ... The disarray also…
The truck didn't want to restart … No more gasoline … He needed a shelter for night … Between the grey clouds, the sun … A few hours of respite …
He walked to the city … More nooks and crannies to hide than lost on a road such a tramp, in view of all …
The stabbing pain of his wound was nothing compared to the sudden tortures of his body …
He was cold, he became nauseated …
He had already known what's the matter to him, but at this time, he hadn't of what to fight the evil by the evil…
The lack …
He arrived at the entrance of the main street littered with wrecks cars … The walls of the gutted houses …
He needed to hurry up … His body let him go…
A small house leaned against what had to be a former minimarket … Castiel hoped to find an semblance of pharmacy there … Anything would be good… The door out of his hinges, hung on the side …
He stepped over... The shelves were empty…The store devastated … The dust recovered everything …
He swore inarticulately … Then retch...He vomited leaning against the wall …
A second retch but nothing happened, just pain in the low stomach which tore his entrails…Tense muscles …
He wiped his mouth with the backhand of his jacket …He got up and crossed his reflection in a mirror …
A stubble…Tousled hair, too long… Glassy Glance … Dark circles under his eyes … He didn't recognize himself … He put the hand on his echo …
He was away the angel … Lost … In this reflection, just the dark side of his wings…
He went out and entered the neighboring house … Weapon in hand but his blurred view prevented him from distinguishing anything …
He entered in the lounge…All the chairs were overturned … He went to the kitchen when he was taken by a violent pain in his stomach…Bent with grief, he hung on to the sink … He slid along the furniture, shortness and jerky breath …
His body claimed his synthetic dream …
A metallic noise … He wanted to take his weapon but he had no more the strength of it …
The noise got closer and then a click … He looked up and crossed the glance of a young boy who pointed his weapon at him and cocked … A hand put down the cannon…
" Cass? "
This voice …
" Dean?... "
He felt slipping to the side...Tensed… Cursed cramps …Black hole…
When he opened his eyes ... He saw, first, a wooden ceiling ... He wanted to turn round but his hands were tied up... He tried to raise his head but couldn't ... Too tired ... He felt nauseous ... Again ... A violent cramp in his stomach and he braced on the side in a muffled shout ... His legs were free, them ... The door of what was to be a room, opened ... The same young boy ... He bent over Castiel and put him a wet and fresh towel on his face...
"Who are you? "
The young man had difficulty in understanding him, his voice was as much distant
" Brad ... "
"Brad… Removed me ... Please " begged Castiel
" He said you have to remain attached ... "
Castiel began to laugh...
"Let me go..." He yelled.
He wanted to cry, so much the pain of his cramps was unbearable ... He experienced a forced detoxification ... The door opened ... Castiel distinguished the size of a man ... A sign and Brad left the room...
The noise of a chair and then the man sat down … Castiel looked up …
It was just impossible …
" Dean … "
The body bent down.
" Rest you, Cass …Don't worry, I'm here … I wouldn't leave you … "
The blurred face, the sound of this voice…Mirage… The lack…
Dean had dead … He was sure of that… Someone …
"Who are you?"
"It's me … Chuck … Don't you recognize me?"
Castiel suddenly remembered the young boy … The protected boy of Chuck … The one that the camp nicknamed the jester … Bradley, the young mentally retarded person with child's language …
" Dean …" He looked at the ceiling and began to cry but this time, all his sorrow was only for his friend…
Suddenly he turned his face to the chair, trying to get up.
"Help me, Chuck...Please... Help me"
"That's what I do, Cass… "
The sound of his voice had seemed strange … A divine echo … Shrill…
Castiel began laughing, hoarse …
"Look like the voice of Father" He spat this words…
Chuck's face closed …
Castiel shook himself, pulling on his ties but nothing happened… He laughed and roared at the same time … He was delirious by the pain and by the lack … The blood began flowing down along his wrists …
This lasted several minutes then exhausted, he finally was fall asleep … Shivering between 2 nightmares
Chuck watched over him all night long … Brad took over in the morning … The cramps stopped, the nausea also … He was just cold … Thirst …
Chuck untied him… He bandaged his wrists, looked after his injured flank. …
Castiel didn't react … Body without strength, empty …
" The camp? " He murmured
"He came and in his trail, with his demons of doom… Croats … They destroyed everything … Some of us have managed to escape but the majority died … All this was only a trap … We fight for a lost cause … "
Castiel sniggered
"We always fought for a lost cause "
"Don't say that, Cass "
"I was a magnificent poisoned gift …"
He turned to his side by curling up … Trying to find a position which didn't hurt him... He was cold …
Brad arrived with a meal tray, frugal ... He put it on the bedside table, a glance at Chuck, a smile from him and he left the room ...
"A steward and an idiot flanked by a junkie ... Great team…That reminded me a strange memory ... It was another life ..."
He let out a suffocated laughter in his pillow...
"I was director and manager "Chuck seemed vexed
"And Brad is far from being stupid ... and after 3 days since you're here ... I think we can say now, ex-junkie"
He smiled
"If you think I'll stay clean longer, you still believe in paradise ... "
"But I still believe in Paradise... "
He began to tremble
"I'm so cold, Chuck ... So cold ... I would like to never wake up ..."
" Sh!….Don't say that ...Try to sleep ..."
He took a blanket at the end of the bed and raised on the feverish body of Castiel ... It was strange the way that this man seemed concerned by this fallen angel...
Brad standing in the doorway staring at him
"Long time yet? "
" No ... We shall leave here in two or three days ... Go now ... I'll staying here "
Brad nodded ... Chuck heard him down the stairs, sliding down along the banister as he liked to do it ...He smiled
Castiel continued to tremble ... He rubbed him a long time, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He put his hand on his forehead, the fever had fallen...
Chuck looked at Castiel's face…Used, lined...
"I'm sorry ... So sorry for all ..."
He got up and left the room ...
A first soup, just a few spoons at a time ... Some water and sugar ... Little by little, Castiel regained his strength... His eyes became lighter, his voice found back his depth, a of long ago ...
He took his first shower in days, just cold water ... Trickle but enough to give him the impression to come alive again...
He shaved and left Brad cut his hair, in that the young boy had the nimble hands, according to his protector.
Chuck had been gone several hours ... Brad biting his nails nervously ... Castiel cleaning his weapon, chest and barefoot, faded Jean but clean ...
Chuck came back, a huge bag tearing up his shoulder... Some Cans , powdered milk ... ... The basic necessities… Extra clothes...
A sweater in ¾ sleeves and a few black T-shirt for Castiel ... A linen jacket for Brad ...
Tomorrow morning, they would leave the city ... The place was becoming less safe ... Brad, increasingly nervous, Chuck said that man-child had the gift of premonition ... He felt things coming.
"You should have let him shoot at me the last time, then" laughs Castiel , sadly...
"He never shot anyone, he would have made even less on you ... He has always loved you even if you've never given him any attention ..."
He closed the bag
"Should say that you were rarely able to do ... "
Castiel armed his gun and handed it to Brad who came back from the lounge.
" Here! … It's for you … Be careful, it's loaded and cocked… "
The young boy smiled blissfully …
"Thank you, Sir … "
Castiel tilted … He was rarely called like that
"It's Castiel … And Cass for you …"
Brad nodded smiling but Castiel already looked away…. Brad went away admiring his treasure …
"A weapon? "
"It's the most useful present here "
"The only present which he saw in your gesture and which is useful for him, it's just the gesture itself… "
He got up and went away... Castiel armed his machine-gun … He had headache… He dreamed of lost himself again but medicines and drugs of all sorts were more and more rare, and he didn't feel able to bear another session of drugs withdrawal, at all cases, for the moment …
When he woke up the next morning ... He was alone ... Chuck and Bradley had left without him ... On the table, the linen bag with food reserves, the revolver he had offered to Brad ... In rabies, he threw all on the ground ... He leaned on the edges of the table, closed eyes ...Take back the control ...
He managed to start a rusty old convertible, the tank still half full ... He threw the bag to back, placed the revolver on the passenger seat, within reach... Put his machine gun on his legs and started ... Straight Ahead ... Without a backward glance ... Without a glance in the rearview mirror...
He rolled a few kilometers and saw him on the side ... Brad ... He slowed down, hand on his gun ...
"Brad? "
The young boy turned to him ...
"Oh Castiel ..."
"What are you doing here? Where is Chuck? "
" I had to wait for him but he never came back ... Stomach pain ... I went away ... "
Stomach pain, Castiel thought of his famous intuitions, premonitions...
He looked at him… He couldn't give up him on the road … He didn't anyway want to continue his travel alone… He didn't support his own company more than one day and was, furthermore, afraid to fall again into his wrong … He stopped, bent and opened the door
"Come on…Get in …"
A fallen angel becoming a broken human, feet on the edge of the abyss and by his side, a young boy with a child's brain who had premonitions, gift of the divine…
Move forwards always…Search for a city, for peace, for a shelter … Safety in this drifted world….2014 …
End…