Castiel had seen many things.
He saw how the world evolved. God had created the universe, and in turn he also created the angels – his first children.
Castiel watched as all of the creatures grew and changed. All of Creation was beautiful to him. Even fighting demons was beautiful. The dance of the fight, the single-minded attacks, they were all gorgeous.
He loved that for a millennium. Then its beauty faded. He was so tired of fighting.
And that was all the humans – God's other children – seemed to want. Why would they attack each other? Why would they want to destroy the gift that God gave them?
Everything became ugly.
Castiel lost the ability to see any beauty. The fighting became a hassle – it was habit now – the world was taken over by concrete and bizarre automobiles and big factories that emitted horrible smoke and all of these man-made things that destroyed the world.
Everything his Father had made was being ruined.
Time passed differently for angels. Sometimes a year could flash past in a moment, other times it could seem like a century.
Castiel was tired.
The beauty was gone. The enjoyment was gone. What was the point?
He once thought that angels were supposed to be guardians. But the longer he thought about it, he realized that angels are warriors of God. He was obligated to soldier on.
Then the fires started. Mothers died, children who were only six months old were poisoned. Azazel had started his scheme.
But Castiel couldn't do anything but watch. He was assigned elsewhere, being a good soldier, following orders.
More years passed, so slowly.
Castiel heard whispers over the years.
The Winchesters killed Azazel.
The Winchesters killed Alistair.
Dean Winchester sold his soul.
Dean Winchester is in Hell.
Castiel always sighed after these messages. It was just more killing, more dying, more pain. And why were these Winchester boys so important?
Then Castiel saw this "Dean Winchester" while he was in Hell.
He was being flayed. He was being torn apart. And for thirty years, slower than anything Castiel could remember, he saw that Dean was dealing with all of this pain – all of this torture – for the sake of his brother.
Wouldn't Castiel have done the same thing for one of his brothers, one of his comrades?
He didn't believe that he'd have the strength to do what Dean was doing now.
Suddenly, Castiel found beauty again. In the beaten and broken man, he saw a pure soul. He saw the beauty of this courageous man who had sacrificed everything in his life, just so that he could protect others.
So Castiel went to Hell. His wings scorched, his celestial body screamed in agony. But he had to preserve this one piece of beauty that was left on the earth. He fixed all of the broken bones, all of the torn flesh, wiped away all the tears.
And then he finally, once this human was whole again, got to see what true beauty was.
"Hello Dean."
