Another comment fic, this one for a Castiel BAMF and Schmoop meme. 5 times Castiel was hugged.

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5 – The world had fallen, and he had fallen with it.

Not too long ago a refugee had brought with him some small comfort. He'd shared it in repayment for some even smaller kindness. Castiel accepted it mostly to humor the man. He was an angel; such things did not affect him. Except- for one infinitesimally small instant, it did. He sat up stiffly. He gaze went immediately up to the stars, so much brighter now that the great cities were dead. They gave no sign of this latest betrayal, just twinkled distantly, as unreachable and far removed as they had once been familiar. Something inside felt tight and perversely hollow. A hand snaked across his (Jimmy's) shoulder and pulled him into a one-armed embrace.

"Yeah," the man said. His eyes were still glazed, but his voice was husky with loss. "Yeah. But they're still beautiful, aren't they?"

Something eased with the touch. He looked over at the man, the man who sought to comfort one of God's own. His eyes were still fixed on the sky, and his face was a ruin of grief and pain and too much time. Castiel did not let his gaze waver from the man. He was a picture of wretchedness and savage glory.

"Yes," he said. "I guess they still are."

4 – He spun free, and dropped them all in an alley. He wasn't exactly sure where they were- just as far away as he could make it, wounded and weary as he was. Sam stumbled and collapsed on the pavement. At a glance, Castiel could tell he was unconscious, but he would live. Dean fared better, but his eyes were unfocused and he struggled to find his balance.

"Shit," he said. "Shit." His voice carried quiet tremors.

Dean suddenly leaned heavily on Castiel, and in one lightning-brief moment, squeezed his shoulders and thumped his back, then released him and staggered back. Dean looked down at Sam. "God- I thought that was it." He wavered. Castiel reached out and steadied him before he could fall.

3 – He stood next to the prophet, awaiting the end. It would be enough. It was swift. One moment, there was nothing but light and pain and the next- there was only nothing.
How strange, then, that he should be aware of it. He was cradled in nothingness, and held close. He was a creature above and attuned to time, but he lost all sense of it.

He opened his eyes. He was standing in a desert, and it was dark, but he stood under the spill of a million gathered stars.

2 –He burned the demon and set the soul free. He turned to the last demon. It fled before he could touch it, and the woman it had stolen collapsed to the floor. She managed to get up on her knees, and then and she buried her face into the legs of his vessel. "Lob Gottes," she whispered, "Er schickte mir einen Engel." She clung to him, her strength coming more from her soul than her body.

She was dying. The seal had been saved; the suffering of this one soul was such a small thing when weighed against the world. He had other duties to attend to. And yet-

He lifted her up and carried her back to her family, moved by something he could not name. He set her down on the porch swing. She squeezed his hand. The sun was rising. The woman smiled. He left before it had a chance to fade.

1 – The soul of the righteous man had been taken to Hell. The armies readied themselves at the gates. Castiel waited for the call. He – of all of them – had been tasked with tearing the soul from perdition's grip. It would not be easy, but it was an honor. Before the final battle call, the leader of the garrison embraced him and blessed him. It was almost a farewell. Much, much later, he wondered if his brother had known.