A/N located at bottom of page.
I do not own anything Supernatural, only my original characters.
My Sunday Mornings
They were everywhere.
Climbing, crawling, jumping, giggling, crying, screaming, laughing.
Such strange little creatures.
And they were just left to run wild, like a miniature horde of wild boars and pigs. Some hung from the metal monkey bars like crazed apes with their dried, snotty noses crusted above their top lip, dribble slipping down their small chins, others galloped in the sand with small trucks and plastic weapons, crying for the sting in their eyes and others became too rough.
Castiel remained in awe at his father's smaller creations, so peculiar and tiny they were. Even at such young ages you could see humanity for its best or worst, he had noted that children from the ages of 4-7 displayed human instincts much more than any other age, purely because they failed to have any real discipline. They fought, they developed their mentality, they ate, they played, they cried, they hated and they lived purely on their own innocence and failed to see beyond it.
He never really understood how humans could be so doting and adoring to their offspring, he could never grasp how putting your absolute everything into something that never really appreciated it could make someone feel whole and happy. Or the fact that you could allow your child so much freedom and then complain at the fact they did not listen or that they had minds of their own.
It puzzled him really.
But then again, humans were such puzzling creatures. Extraordinary of course, yet puzzling nonetheless.
However, he still had a few minutes to burn before he had to return to Heaven, and as he stood beside the large park bench he studied the park across the pond from him with a blank stare. Most of the children's earth parents sat on or beside the seat by the three large yellow slides. Talking, gossiping, laughing, he even saw one of the thicker and heavier set mothers slip her breast from the open collar of her shirt and wave it toward her youngest born with its near bald head facing away from him.
He decided that the mother must be feeding it.
Looking away however with a slight twitch of his nose Castiel instead moved his attention to the children on the swings.
And then he saw them again, what he always saw every Sunday morning he appeared here at this time.
Two red headed children sat side by side, as they always had, but this time with a lot less excitement for the world around them than the others. He remembered the first time he had seen them, it was in the exact same place with the exact same feeling around them. Greif.
He silently considered the children with dull grey eyes, he felt their ominousness waver with every passing moment and he wondered what had put them into such a tainted mood.
A girl no older than seven with a fluffy pink dress sat with her body directed completely toward him, her head bowed and her red hair drowning any part of her face from his view. Not that he really cared, it just seemed strange for a child at the park to do such a thing. Or so he evaluated.
The young boy on the swing beside her, whose name he had learnt to be Stanley from four Sundays before, seemed just as unphased from the park that morning as his sibling. His little face full and his arms fuller, tiny sausage fingers wrapped carelessly around the swings chain.
The child's startling blue eyes were even noticeable from Castiels distance and he wondered if any normal being would be able to catch the colour from this far.
The boy's mouth moved but he took no notice to the silent movements, instead, he his attention darted to the quick movements to the left of the park,toward the young woman sprinting for them from the corner street dairy.
Her breath seemed quick and her movements flimsy as a tangle of thick red hair followed closely, bouncing wildly behind her. She seemed to be in a rush, her cheeks red and legs bounding, it was quite an odd sight.
She was Isobella, the eldest.
She wasn't exactly what he would have gathered as someone Dean would go for, her clothes were always oddly mismatched and her make up non-existent. But she had a warm aurora around her just as her brother and sister had, and he liked that about her.
She always appeared around this time as well, he wondered if it were because she was ten minutes late that her young siblings were so sullen, but he knew he shouldn't have wondered such things.
It wasn't an angels place to think for his or her self, regardless of the disappearance of his own Father.
But still, he watched momentarily with an itching of interest, the sun beating down on him, for his last few moments as the woman with a scar across her left cheek seemed to pull something from her pockets and turn away from him. Only a curtain of hair such as her sisters faced him.
The children looked up as she leapt in front of them from the side, her feet bruising the bark below her and catching others attention around her aswell.
The young girl had been blocked from his sight, but the boy seemed to spring up in his seat with a bright smile and a laugh. His own thick mass of curls frizzed like sheep's wool on top of his head.
Slightly bent in the middle, the young woman handed him something, something long, curved and yellow and green.
She also handed one to the girl in front of her and Castiel crooked his head as both of the children bounced from their swings and straight into the woman's opened arms, she took a few steps back from the sudden impact but ducked around their arms and squeezed them around the middle at the same time.
He studied the scene for a moment with a twitch from his lips before he felt something vibrate inside of his mind, he had stayed for too long a time, but he had now indulged into what he found most beautiful about humanity. And this is what kept him on his path of his Father as everything else fell apart.
He wanted to protect this small family and others just like them, he didn't know why, but he did.
Even if his brothers and sisters felt as though there were no hope for humanity, Castiel found strength in moments like these, just like his Father would've.
Some humans deserved to live.
He looked at them once more, and was surprised to find that they had all fallen to the ground with bounds of laughter. He took a deep breath through his nose, clicked his knuckles and flexed his fingers as his grey overcoat wavered around with his moments.
'Until next Sunday comes,' he whispered to no one, his grey eyes following the movements of the untangling trio. He watched as Isobella rolled onto her stomach, her red hair catching bits of dried bark as she smiled. And with that, he vanished once more.
A/N: Welcome to my new story, it will follow the last season of Supernatural but at it's own pace. I wanted to create my own idea within the Supernatural world, but outside of it as well. I adored the character that was Castiel, and since there isn't many good Cas stories out there I decided I wanted to start my own. Love it or hate it?
There's more to come, please read and review! This is just a quick prologue I threw together in half an hour. –ash-catch 'em. x