Summary: He's tried, he really has, but he thinks maybe he's known all along how this story would end, and it's not going to be pretty. Tag to 7x17.
Warning: Spoilers up to and inc 7x17. Vaguely Destiel-ish undertones. I guess maybe implied (nonsexual) wincesty undertones if you have your wincest goggles on.
Hubris means extreme haughtiness, pride or arrogance. Hubris often indicates a loss of contact with reality and an overestimation of one's own competence or capabilities, especially when the person exhibiting it is in a position of power.
In Greek mythology, Nemesis (sometimes called Adrasteia, probably meaning "one from whom there is no escape") was the spirit of divine retribution against those who succumb to hubris (arrogance before the gods). The Greeks personified vengeful fate as a remorseless goddess; the goddess of revenge.
The months Emmanuel spends with Daphne he feels like a part of him is missing.
It's obvious really, he's lost his memory; of course he feels empty and lost. There's something underneath the longing for his mind, though, something that gnaws away at him and keeps him awake night after night. He can't shake the feeling that there's something he forgot to do. He feels like he's walked into a room with the intention to do something only now he can't quite put his finger on what it was that he was meaning to accomplish.
He spends months feeling like he's being split in two. There's a part of him – the major part – that enjoys the days he spends with his wife, enjoys the freedom to be whoever he wants to be with no prior commitments.
But something niggles at the back of his mind, something that feels like fear, guilt, regret, something that tells him there's something missing, and sometimes he finds himself scanning crowds – looking for what, he doesn't know. Sometimes his heart will pound and his breath will catch and a person will turn around, only they're not what he was looking for.
The day he comes home to his wife captured and restrained by a demon is the day he thinks he finds what he was looking for.
He knows something is wrong the second he walks into the supermarket, and so he turns right around and heads back home on the double, heart beating hard. He always seems to know when Daphne's upset. He's learnt not to question the instinct.
When he gets back onto his street, he's breathing hard because he ran the whole way home and he's not as fit as he could be.
He looks up at his (Daphne's) front porch and he finally sees; he's found the person been searching out in crowds for months. He knows immediately because of the defensive shape of the man's shoulders, the accusing glare of his eyes, the way he plunges a knife straight into another man's torso – no hesitation, no remorse, only determination and a broken kind of detachment.
He's never seen this man in all of his short (remembered) life, but he knows immediately that this is it.
Emanuel is conflicted. He feels like he's standing on the edge of something huge. It is something that is at once wonderful and horrible and he can't decide if he wants to run at it full-pelt or take off in the opposite direction as fast as possible. The indecision leaves him rooted to the ground, gasping because he's still a little out of breath and because his heart feels like it's about to explode.
As he unties and checks over Daphne for injuries, it feels like he's betraying her a hundred times over because despite his words and actions, his entire being is focused on the man who just stabbed his wife's captor to death. There's nothing left in the world for him but this man, this person whose name he doesn't even know, but whose entire being Emanuel feels that he ought to know. He thinks he could re-create ever single wrinkle and line from this man's face and hands without looking at him once. If he had the power, he thinks he could recreate him on an atomic level.
It's a frightening thought, to know someone like that and yet to not know them at all.
The excitement and the dread war within Emanuel until his finally takes the last step and agrees to fight the demons in front of the hospital. He knows it's the final step, can feel the memories struggle up from the depths of his mind and he lets them in. He knows it's not going to be pretty, and he isn't disappointed.
Castiel. That's who he is. He's Dean's Cas, the one who he's done unimaginable things to. The one who betrayed him, the one who added to that broken burden written all over Dean's face.
At the time, breaking Sam's wall seemed like the right thing to do. Castiel remembers thinking, If you won't obey me, I will take away your everything and then you'll have no choice but to obey me and now he wonders at how stupid he's been. How could he have possibly thought that taking away Dean's everything would do anything but grant him Dean's eternal enmity? How could he honestly have believed that with Sam out of the picture Dean might give his loyalty away to another? Castiel's only defence is to claim madness – madness brought on by power and exhaustion and pure hopelessness. He was mad to think Dean would ever forgive him for hurting the only thing that ever mattered.
He can't deal with the heavy weight that settled on his shoulders now, doesn't want to see one more victim (the only one that matters) of his stupidity and pride.
Only then Dean hands him back his coat (dear god, he carried that with him, all this time?) with the word please written all over his face and Castiel's never been able to say no to Dean, even when he knew it would result in nothing but Castiel's own destruction.
Castiel doesn't have to watch Dean's face when he tells him there's nothing to be done to save Sam's wall. He knows, even before he says it, the way Dean's features will go perfectly still instead of crumpling as they'd like to when he finally accepts there's no hope left for Sam.
Castiel can't believe this is what his selfishness has done to Dean. He can't believe that he really is as stupid and naïve as Dean always said he was. Humanity is not below him, because they, at least made mistakes with no one to learn better from but themselves, where Castiel could have picked up any book ever and seen himself reflected in the greed and self-destructive narcism of every would-be hero turned villain ever. He is what brought them all here. He is to blame, and if he is to ever learn from humanity's mistakes ever, then he may as well learn now, and follow the script right through to the end.
A long time ago, he thought that they were something. Before he saw Sam as anything other than a demonic vessel of evil, he'd thought it was himself and Dean that might save the world. His pride and vanity had allowed him to entertain thoughts of being some sort of duo of heroes: the Righteous Man and the Angel who pulled him from Hell.
When he learnt to see Sam through Dean's eyes, he realised that Dean would never allow himself to be anything without Sam - his other half, the yin to his yang. Then, Castiel had allowed Sam to enter his little imaginary group, he'd let himself think that they were a trio: Team Free Will, the last warriors left fighting for humanity and the world.
But he's been wrong all along, Castiel realises that now. He's been seeing himself side by side with Dean, he's allowed space for Sam, but the truth is, it was never his concession to make. It's always been Dean's, and Dean has spared only a corner of Sam's rightful place to Castiel, back when Castiel was useful and Sam was hurting Dean more than he was helping him.
When it comes down to it, Cas, that funny little angel dude is all he's ever going to be, and Sam's never going to give up even an inch of Dean's heart because Dean wouldn't let him. Sam is all there's ever going to be for Dean.
And now Castiel is just watching Dean's everything fade away and die, all because of his own gloriously stupid greed.
There's no other way this was ever going to go, Castiel realises with a sinking feeling. It's been pre-written in hundreds of human books – no doubt the prophet Chuck has always known this is where they were always headed. This will be the end for Dean if Castiel doesn't put Dean's wants ahead of his own (once again) and allow him one more sacrifice. There's not going to be any sort of return from this, he thinks, because God truly has turned away from him now and they do say that the third time's the charm, so maybe this time destruction will stick, if only because it won't be absolute.
He only hopes that like Sam, it will be Lucifer whom he sees. He doesn't think he can handle it if it's Dean.
Castiel takes a breath and reaches out towards Sam, ready to give back Dean the only thing Dean's ever wanted or needed.
end
Notes: CALLED IT! Always knew Cas wasn't permanently down for the count after the beginning of season seven. BTW, this is the end part of my long-winded WIP Hubris fic. One day I will finish it. It's only been on the back burner since May 2011. (Didn't want to get Jossed, was waiting for the resolution to the Castiel arc. Thought I'd post this bit as it stands alone too while it's relevant-ish.
I think I'm probably the only Destiel fan on the internet who wasn't disgustingly disappointed with the end of 7x17. I thought it was fitting. (yes, I'd love Cas back, but it's always been 'that show about the brothers and the car' and not 'that show about the brother and the car and the angel'). Also, boy, do I want to know what sorts of evil things Meg has planned. Not a Meg/Cas fan, but gosh, Meg 2.0 is always buckets of fun. I think she has a soft spot for Cas. Or, well, a less hard spot? Cue dick jokes
feedback would be nice?