A/N – Just a bit of a follow-up to last week's episode. I own nothing,
Castiel can hear that Sam and Dean are talking quietly in the dark, but the sound is muffled and he can't pick out specific words. They think he is unconscious, and he certainly looks that way. His head is tilted sideways at an odd angle that he can't gather the strength to correct, and there is a smudge on the comforter where the slow but continuous bleeding from his nose has begun to pool and congeal.
For the first time, the vessel feels tired. At first, Castiel's not sure how he knows this, because generally Jimmy doesn't register, not really. Once and awhile, Castiel will pick up something completely at random – a smell will remind him of car rides in his father's old convertible, or a song will bring a vivid flash of nana's funeral back in Chicago – but these are scraps of memories, and they are not his. Indeed, the idea of a car ride with Castiel's father seems almost like the premise to a joke. But Castiel is exhausted, worn down and burnt out, so Jimmy is a little more present than he usually is. And Jimmy's body is sluggish, drained of energy, and Castiel thinks that maybe he really needs a rest this time.
When he pictures Anna, he does not imagine her in the young vessel with the fiery hair. He sees her not in one way at all, but in many ways, across many centuries, in various incarnations of herself. Sometimes she takes a human vessel; usually a woman, but not always. Sometimes she is as she was at the beginning, a blazing light without form, tremendously beautiful and revelling in the glory of the Lord.
In the background, she is always screaming, eyes aflame.
Dying was always human territory. There is no afterlife for an angel – none that he can remember, anyway. He wonders if God will return Anna, the way he, Castiel, was returned. He wonders if he hopes for that, and finds that he does. There are few left who have shared the history of the universe with him. So they witnessed the beginning together, he would like them to witness the end.
Because there will be an end. Sam and Dean will fight hard for as long as they can, saving as many as they can, but it won't be enough. Tonight has proven that, beyond all doubt. Castiel remembers the flood, and he knows that sometimes there is a master plan that will be carried out no matter what is done to stop it. Every move that Sam or Dean makes against the master plan will in fact be playing right into its hands. He went out to find God, but maybe that's a cheap metaphor. Maybe God is predestination.
Castiel realizes blearily that Sam and Dean are removing his coat, but he does nothing to help the process. He hears Sam's muffled exclamation when he sees all the blood, and the concern in his voice when he asks Dean if he thinks Castiel will be okay. Dean's reply is oddly clear:
"I hope so. Because I have no freaking clue what to do if he isn't."
There's a long pause after that. Finally, Castiel feels a blanket settle over him, and he's touched by the concern even though he doesn't feel heat or cold. After awhile, he hears Sam leave, muttering something about needing some air. Dean stays, and as Castiel drifts away again, he suddenly remembers Dean's mother's promise about angels watching over him. He muses over the odd twist that has it the other way around.