Author's Note: Just a little something that popped into my head after watching The Man Who Would Be King. From the first person POV of Castiel.
Disclaimer: I am not Kripke and therefore, do not own any part of Supernatural.
"You can't, Dean. You're just a man. I'm an angel."
"I don't know, I've taken some pretty big fish."
I didn't appear to the Winchester for a long time after that incident. Now that they knew what I was hiding, I fear I was no longer a friend. To Sam and Bobby, I was nothing more than a hunter's prey. A monster. And to Dean, to him I was something much worse. I was a part of his family, a part of him and I repaid that with betrayal.
I tried to explain. I tried to tell him, everything I did, everything I am doing is to protect him. Dean still has yet to comprehend the sheer magnitude of Raphael's power. Had I done nothing, had I not struck a deal with Crowley, the Apocalypse would have ravaged this planet, leaving absolutely nothing in its wake. And there would have been nothing any of us could have done. Not this time.
That is what they do not understand. But, deep down, in every fiber of my grace, I know if the Winchesters were put into my place, if they could just see things from my perspective, they would have made the same decision in a heartbeat….
I still check up on them. Every day. I could not bring myself to fully abandon them, like they did me. Sam and Bobby have not given up the search for Crowley, though their efforts to find the demon have been half-hearted at best. They have both been too concerned about Dean.
Even I could have not predicted the effect my actions had on him.
Sam and Bobby attempt to lighten his mood with humor, joking about the situation as if Dean and I were a couple that had recently, in their terms, 'broken up'. Bobby even remarked that perhaps he should purchase some ice cream for Dean, though I am still uncertain how gorging oneself on frozen dairy products is an ample method of consolation. But I digress.
Dean still prays to me. Sam and Bobby don't know that.
He thinks that I am no longer listening, but nothing could be further from the truth. I hear his prayers in my head as clearly as if they were my own thoughts. He is always asking me the same question: Why? Why did I do this to him? If I know how much I hurt him…
The answer, of course, is yes. I am aware of all the pain I have caused him. I can feel his hurt, deep down in his soul. However, like most things in this universe, I fear it is out of my control. At least…now it is. Perhaps if I had—sooner…but what is done is done. Dwelling in the past will solve nothing.
Instead, I will dwell in the present. Watching Dean as I have done many times before, as he silently prays to me.
Weeks pass and that is how most of my days are spent. This particular night is no different. Sam and Bobby have turned in for the evening. Dean has tried to sleep but his mind is too plagued by his thoughts to rest.
For the moment, though, Dean's mind is quiet as he sits gazing out the window into the dark night. He sighs and brings a hand up to absently scrape at the red graffiti that is painted on the glass, knowing that the sigils are doing nothing to keep me away from him.
A part of me almost wishes that Bobby hadn't botched the sigils. Perhaps, in the grand scheme of things, being forced to stay away from Dean would have been best for the both of us.
Dean shifts and I step forward, moving out of the shadows yet still remaining hidden. His hand comes away from the window to rest on his face.
"Cas," He says aloud and for a moment I wonder if I had inadvertently revealed my presence to him. But Dean continues as if I am not even there.
"Cas," His voice hovers just above a whisper. "I can't…do this anymore." Though I cannot see them, I know tears are welling up in his eyes as he speaking.
"I need you Cas," I hesitate, unsure if this is Dean's way of telling me he wishes to see me.
"Are you listening you son-of-a-bitch?" He lifts his head and growls angrily towards the heavens, where I am not. "I don't care anymore! What you did—it doesn't matter." His voice softens and I see the streaks of tears on his cheeks gleaming in faint moonlight. "I just—I need you."
I now know what needs to be done. Without a second thought, I appear at Dean's side.
"C-Cas?" He breathes, looking up at me as though he thinks I am nothing more than I figment of his imagination. But I am real. I am here. And this time I am not leaving him.
"Hello, Dean."
Before I can speak again, Dean pulls me close to him, burying his face in my shoulder. The embrace says more to me that his words ever could.
It is then, in that one moment I realize that my Father has finally given me the sign that I had been praying for.