All That Stands Forgiven
Summary: Supernatural Fan-fic. What if Castiel had received his sign when he asked for it, and aborted his plans, choosing instead to ask the Winchesters for forgiveness? What would he have done, if Crowley and Raphael had unleashed the Leviathans instead? And what of the war in Heaven? AU from the episode 'The Man Who Would Be King'.
Chapter One: Calling on Heaven
Castiel lowered his head to his hands with a sigh. His heart felt heavy, his throat constricted.
He'd been here for hours. Confessing. Such a human thing to do, but there was no other way for him to talk to God. No one could talk to God anymore, or he wouldn't be in this situation.
Only a day or two ago, he'd stood in a ring of Holy Fire, listening in anguish as the three people he most valued in all of creation called him to account for his actions. For his sins. Or at least what they considered his sins.
Sam and Dean. Men he loved like brothers and, as Crowley and Raphael had pointed out, more than he loved many of his angelic brothers. The men for whom he had rebelled against Heaven. The men for whom he had gone to war against an archangel he could not defeat, who had once killed him.
He had lied to them, deceived them. In their eyes, he had betrayed them. He had gone behind their backs, working with Crowley. One little slip of the tongue and he had betrayed himself to them.
His hands clenched together, remembering Bobby's shock, Dean's wrath. The betrayed pain on Sam's face when he had let slip that he, not Crowley, had raised Sam from Hell, minus his soul. It still hurt, Sam's question of whether or not he had done it on purpose. That they could even suspect that of him told him a great deal about how far he had fallen in their eyes.
He had come here, to the silence of a garden park, to pray, to confess the tangled web of his thoughts, to beg for guidance. It was his best hope, the belief that God could be found in a garden. And now that he had poured out the whole sorry tale, he bent his head once more. "Father...Am I doing the right thing? Am I on the right path? You have to tell me. You have to give me a sign. Give me a sign, or I will just...I will do...whatever I must."
He felt himself choke on those words. His heart ached at the idea of abandoning Dean and Sam, of being at odds with them. But if he did not oppose Raphael, then everything they had sacrificed would mean nothing. And he knew no other way to oppose Raphael than Crowley's plan.
Warm air blew across his face, warm gentle air. But the park he sat in was a winter park, snow and ice around his shoes. He stiffened, eyes closing, seeking answers.
A memory came to him. The day of Lucifer's rising. Dean had confronted him in the holding room, asking him to help him stop what was happening. They had fought. Dean had cursed him and sent him away. But the words the young hunter spoke had burned into his brain.
'No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right thing to do and a wrong thing to do here, and you know it.' 'If anything's worth dying for, this is it.'
Dean had been right. Castiel swallowed hard, the memory so sharp it was as if it were happening again. And after a moment, he understood why.
The despair, the anguish that choked his throat, threatening to choke his prayers as well...this was what he had felt, when Dean had confronted him. Caught between what he thought was best for Heaven, and Dean's sharp reminders of basic ethics and honor.
He was facing that choice again. The best thing for Heaven and Earth was to stop Raphael, as far as he knew. But the bargain with Crowley had been a devil's deal that had never truly felt right. The torturing and butchering of monsters, the fighting...every lie he had told to the Winchesters was acid and brimstone in his mouth, in his soul. Like the orders he had almost blindly followed into the Apocalypse.
He could not stop Raphael on his own, and he doubted the Winchesters could make much difference. But when it came right down to it, he hadn't believed they could stop the Apocalypse either. There might be a way he hadn't stopped to consider. Human innovation had often surprised him. Case in point, that they had almost caught up with him and Crowley, despite all the dead ends and stone walls he had placed in their path.
What was right? He didn't know.
What did he know? He knew that Sam and Dean Winchester were men he would live and die for. He knew Raphael's plans would destroy them, and the rest of the world. He knew Crowley's plan offered a solution, but not necessarily a good one. Dean had once commented that nothing good ever came from a demon deal. And this deal would give Crowley the power of several million souls, not just one. Granted, it would give him the same power, but...still…
He had hated lying to his friends, to his almost adopted family. He hated being at odds with them. It all felt so wrong.
He clenched both hands and jaw. "What do I do?"
It occurred to him, in an odd flash of insight, that if Sam and Dean knew the whole story, they would fight to the death to protect him. And if Raphael killed them, there could be no Apocalypse. No vessels meant no grand battle. A morbid thought, but not an impossible one. Not with those two.
It also occurred to him that every plan he had tried for gathering more fire-power had been a disaster. Like the unsinking of the Titanic. And the weapons from Balthazar.
And what was he fighting for, if not to preserve Sam and Dean? In the end, all he wanted was to be at peace with the two humans he had adopted as his brothers-in-arms. The fact that they currently distrusted him, that he and Dean had fought the night before...it hurt. That was why he had come here in the first place.
Another thought spiraled through his mind. Human doubts, human emotions...that had been what had led him the first time. And he did not regret that decision, not even with all that had happened. So…
He rose from the bench, staring at the snow. He wondered what Crowley would say, when he called off their deal.
He wondered if he could even still convince Sam and Dean to listen to his apology and explanation, or if he had destroyed too much of their trust already. He hoped not.
The warm wind eddied around him again, and he looked into the cloudless sky, and at the unmoving leaves on the trees. He felt...peaceful, for the first time in weeks, despite his vague sense that they were all doomed. But if he was to be doomed, better at the side of those he cherished than alone.
He closed his eyes, exhaled a deep breath on the wind. "Thank you Father." Then he oriented himself on Bobby, since he couldn't actively seek the Winchester brothers, and transported himself away.
Author's Note: What can I say? I wanted Cas to make the right choice at the end of Season 6. This is definitely going to be AU, so hang on tight.