disclaimer: I don't own SPN or any of its characters

Spoilers for 4x20, 4x22. 5S (in later chapters) mostly from Jimmy's POV, looking at Castiel from Angel of the Lord, Angel the Outlaw, Angel the Fallen, to finally became Archangel of Heaven. No pairings for now but Jimmy/Castiel and slightly implied Dean/Castiel in later chapters. Rated T to be safe. Will eventually be a future!fic in the final chapter.

ForEver

Chapter One. With Thee from Heaven

It had seemed to be so simple, to believe and to have faith in God and His angels. Jimmy Novak had been taught so since he was only a kid to have faith. To love God. To obey and do his work.

He had been simply thrilled when an angel spoke to him that he couldn't begin to realize the consequences behind those words from the foreign language that he didn't know he understood.

It used to be such a simple thing, to believe and to have faith in God and His angels. But it wasn't anymore; it wasn't from the moment he gave his consent and let the angel in.

"I am not your father."

Castiel had said to Claire before he shut Jimmy out and it broke his heart to see the hurt on his daughter's innocent eyes.

And Jimmy Novak lost his family. This was the last thing he knew before the angel's Grace wrapped around his soul and put him into oblivion.

Jimmy's consciousnesses were few and far between. If he got lucky, he could get a glimpse of the outside–it was irony to think the world as the outside; and his own fucking mind as the inside–but usually only when Castiel was distracted enough to…um…let his guard down and let the human mind surface and feel (though still not control).

During the first few days when Castiel was still testing (exploring) his newly-acquired body, Jimmy could feel hunger and thirst as well as other physical needs, which Castiel chose–deliberate or not–to ignore, pulling the alarm and screaming at him during those flitting moments between the bright darkness. He was thirsty and starving, cold on the skin but too hot with Castiel's burning Grace inside, his eyes were too dry from the angel's lack of blinking they hurt, and his eardrums sometimes burst when he was force into a high-speed flying trip.

Thankfully, the problems solve themselves after a few weeks when his body grew tired of protesting and organs seemed to decide the best solution was to just shut down one-by-one. It was a relief from the pain, but Jimmy wasn't sure whether it was a good thing.

Then Jimmy had to endure a new round of agony. Being shot with rock-salt and iron-rounds, stabbed and sliced like a toy, and for a vicious hook to went through his shoulder and spine that could surely kill a human, not to mention the breaking of all his rib-bones when some other guy's nerd-angel just happened to want to beat his up!

Between the brief pain of wakefulness and the dark-bright ignorance that made up most of his time. Jimmy tried hard to not think about the family he had lost.

When Castiel left him one day, suddenly and without warning, he felt…broken.

No…not like heart-broke broken. Just broken.

His body had forgotten how to work without the angelic Grace within. He noticed that the moment a hand touched his shoulder and he flinched away in alarm. He noticed that the moment he drawn in a breath and his chest screamed in pain. He noticed that his heart protested with every beat. Every single beat.

Worse still, his conscious felt alone and half-empty–no, more than half, it was like there was a gapping hole the size of Grand Canyon somewhere inside of him. And cold, so cold it was freezing without the warming Grace.

And Jimmy knew he was damaged and broken both physically and mentally.

Eating and drinking were the first few steps to restart his body but still–deep down he knew–he was too far gone, he was beyond repair. Throwing up and emptying his stomach later that day only confirmed to that.

"I'm done. Okay? With demons. Angels. All of it. I just want to go home."

When Jimmy told the Winchester brothers, it was literally his dying wish. He wasn't sure how long he could still keep his body and mind functioning. Weeks? Days? Jimmy just wanted to see his family once more and he would embrace death with open arms.

"All we're saying is that until we figure this out, the safest place is with us."

They didn't understand.

"How long?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

When Jimmy heard the answer, he almost chocked out his disbelief. They really didn't fucking understand. They'd been fighting demons all their lives and didn't they notice the human hosts usually died even if said demons were exorcise? And demons usually spent time eating and breathing!

When Jimmy went to sleep–or at least pretended to (he seemed to have forgotten how to fall asleep without angel-powers forcing him into one)–under the Winchester brothers' intense stare, all he could think about were chances were he wouldn't wake up in the following morning.

However, at half past four in the dead of the night, something miraculous happened and lured the younger Winchester out of the room, leaving Jimmy free to slip out unnoticed. He just wanted to see his family again, even if it was the last time.

Every step he took as he dragged himself up the porch-steps was like infinity. He saw Claire and Amelia–with eyes that he could control and focus–through the window. He saw them and thought them beautiful.

He wasn't sure what he had in mind when he rang the doorbell. It wasn't possible for him to return to the life he had before, all was too late.

"I'm so sorry."

And he meant it.

But he was forced to lie. Lie to his wife. Lying. It had been a long time since he last lied. Castiel didn't–hadn't–and it felt so wrong. But Jimmy still did it.

"Daddy, aren't you gonna to say grace?"

Such a simple question, and it brought tears into Jimmy's. And he was forced to lie again, this time to his daughter. He wasn't happy. He was conflicted and in pain and alone.

But the demon that dared to walk into his house didn't give him time to sort out his jumbled thoughts. And Jimmy could suddenly felt rage and fear and confusion and all the negative emotions that had become so unfamiliar in the past year over-flowed and that he just snapped and start bashing the demon's head with a cupper statue he got his hands on.

Strangely, he still could only remember bits and pieces even without Castiel deliberately shut him out of 'here and now'.

"Demons will never stop, you can never be with your family. So you neither get as far away from them as possible, or you put a bullet in your head."

When the younger Winchester said those cruel words, funny enough, the first thing that went through Jimmy's mind was 'Suicide is a sin!' and nothing else. But he knew then that it was the time for him to part with his family. And probably his life.

As Jimmy tried to rest in the backseat of the Winchesters' car. He couldn't help feel sorry for himself. How totally screwed and messed-up his life had become. He couldn't eat without throwing up; he couldn't breathe without his chest aching; he couldn't lie without feeling extremely guilty; hell he couldn't even rage without lashing out at someone! Even if the demons weren't after him, he would surely still hurt Amelia and Claire, whether he liked it or not. They were really best left alone.

When he received the phone call, however, Jimmy was struck by the fact that even with his leaving, he was still hurting his family. The mistake wasn't with his leaving or staying; the mistake had already been made year ago, the moment he said 'Yes'.

It was Castiel's fault. And Jimmy couldn't help himself screaming names into the air like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Castiel, you son of a bitch! You promise my family will be okay! You promise you're going to take care of them! I gave you everything you asked me to give, I gave you more! This is the thanks I get? This is what you do? This is your Heaven?"

He wasn't sure he even expected an answer.

"Help me, please…just help me."

And Jimmy still walked alone.

The shot was more of a shock than pain. Of course it was painful, but it wasn't the worse that Jimmy had to endure. He was thinking how sorry he felt for Amelia and Claire, how angry and frustrated for Castiel, and how simply hopeless for himself in the time of dying.

And Castiel came. Shamelessly watching through Claire's eyes.

"No…Claire."

"She's with me now."

Jimmy was lying on the ground in a messy heap, bleeding on the dusty floor of the abandon factory, dying but couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like for Claire if he just died. All the horror and pain and torture he had to endure from last year would surely befall onto his sweet daughter, and he couldn't stand the mere thought of it.

"Please, Castiel…if you need just take me…take me, please…"

Jimmy begged–any kind of suffer…sacrifice…was acceptable as long as he could spare Claire from the agonizing pain of being an angel's vessel.

"I want to make sure you understand, you won't die…or age. If last year is painful for you, picture hundreds, thousands more like it."

"Doesn't matter…you take me…just take me!"

"As you wish."

Jimmy didn't regret the decision he had made then. He never regretted it–especially during the darkest hours–but it didn't mean he was prepared for it. He thought he had been, but he wasn't.

The familiar presence of the heavenly creature didn't immediately wrap his Grace around the dying man like a suffocating blanket of dark and light. Castiel turned his–their–head and watched as Amelia practically ran to hold Claire in her arms, sketching the picture in greatest details into his angelic mind and giving Jimmy one last memory of his family.

Jimmy knew then that Castiel would preserve the memory for him, for as long as he wished. It was a blessing, but it was also a curse. And it might–one day–be the only thing that would prevent him from going insane.

Then, just like the year before, Jimmy lost himself in the darkness that seemed too bright and stretch on forever, wasn't allowed to sense or feel, trapped in his own mind and body and thought no more.

The next time Jimmy got a chance to take a peek, he found Castiel slicing his left forearm. He was freaked and the emotion just happened to match that of Castiel's rare conflicting uncertainty. Seconds later he was blocked out again, but this time it was short–like the moment before he doze off, he was immediately been violently shook awake again. As brilliant white light flood through the window with a high-pitch Enochian screech, Jimmy understood the reason for his sober: even if it was only Castiel's subconscious–do angels even have subconscious?–the angel didn't want to die alone.

Surprisingly, Jimmy didn't mind. He had vowed he would willingly open his arms and welcome death.

So he did.

And he didn't mind the angel by his side.

Okay...so I wrote this while practically dozing off. Thx for reading, please R&R.