Hey Guys, been a while since I wrote anything eh?
I lost my muse for a while, but I think I've gotten it back now. This is just a little snipit of a book I'm trying to write - with different characters of course. If you guys like it, I might upload the rest of the story in this sort of format, with these characters.
BUT I NEED TO HEAR FROM YOU!
Anyway - enjoy.
It was nearly noon, almost time. He could feel the green eyes burning into the back of his head, that not long ago had been angry. Even now, though, as Castiel endeavored to ignore the gaze, he knew it was woeful. So very woeful.
Samuel had been here up until an hour ago, gripping the bars of his brother's cell. Castiel had... suggested that he be removed. A child his age shouldn't have to see something like that happen, no one should.
"I'm past the point of begging you know," Came a voice. So used to hearing it so strong, Castiel was shocked that there was conspicuously a fight for control. Not to waver. "You can look at me, I've excepted my fate."
With those words, and the cracked, almost-sob that succeeded it, Castiel's resolve broke down. He spun around, finding the dark figure curling into the corner of the cell, leaning against the bars.
Opening his mouth to speak, Castiel dropped his gaze. A moment of two of silence later, his lips were sealed again.
"I'd like to thank you." The prisoner was standing now, his face virtually pressed against the metal. "For taking care of Sammy. And to... ask you to continue, once I'm gone."
The tears in his eyes as he spoke, threatening to fall, caused Castiel to snap. His body moved afore he could even cogitate what he was doing. He moved to close, and lock, the door.
"What are you doing angel?" Came the dying man's voice again.
Castiel tensed. Angel? He wasn't an angel, he wasn't even close. None of his family were angels, despite what the populous verbally expressed. They were erroneous. This man was going to die because of him, how was that – in any way – angelic.
It was then that he realized; This man, Sam's brother, was going to die – because of him. So maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to die at all.
Turning back to the cell, Castiel met the green gaze, "You are strong." He said softly. "And your brother needs you."
Walking over to the bars, Castiel threaded his fingers through the metal, "Do you trust me?" He asked, not at all expecting an answer.
A few long moments passed like this, in silence, before a voice rang out. "Yes." There was no hesitation in his voice, he sounded so sure.
Castiel was shocked, he couldn't believe his ears. He had given this man no reason to trust him, had caused him to be thrown in confinement, suffering the death sentence without even a word of defence, and he still trusted him...
Now wasn't a time to question the way things were, it was the time to act upon them. Reaching a tentative hand forwards, Castiel unlatched the cell door and watched as it swung open. He could hear the creak of the old hinges, and knew that the sentinels outside would realize that the door was locked soon enough.
"The Run." He said calmly, licking his lips. "Run Dean Winchester, and don't look back."