A/N: The complexity of angel possession and Castiel's conflicted emotions regarding his vessel.

Season 4: The Rapture

I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. All are property of their respective owners, just having some fun with this.

"Is this all I get? Is this how you fulfill your promises?"

I am close enough to touch him and I wonder how it is that he cannot sense me. I have felt his fears, remembered his joys, and been awed by his dreams, but now I feel nothing. An immeasurable fissure has been opened between us and I know that it will most likely never heal. I try to reach for him, this human, just to reassure and comfort him, but I am rebuffed by his animosity.

"Typical," he whispers.

I leave his side then, searching through time and space for any way to grant his request, any loophole that may allow me to offer help. I hear the gun shot and my heart stutters. I feel his life fading. Wantonly, I search for something, anything; some incantation or method… Ah! There it is. Without hesitation I plummet back to Earth and reveal myself to the child.

My explanation is quick, her answer is astronomically faster. With gentle grace, I take her from her body and send her spirit to the Celestial Fields. Her body is small, much smaller than my last vessel, and a thousand different emotions and memories assault me in the space of mere heartbeats.

Her love, her innocence, her boundless joy; the depth of her emotions nearly drives me to my knees. I must save this man. I would do anything to secure his salvation.

I bide my time until the demon is within reach, banishing him without effort. I spare a quick glance around the room and ascertain that the Winchester children are safe. Satisfied, I engage the last demon.

It is over in moments. I look up to meet Sam's blood soaked face, but I cannot spare time for that problem now. Dean's hand reaches toward me, but stops halfway. He swallows and his eyes fill with some emotion I cannot yet name.

Disregarding all of this, I swiftly cross the room to the fallen human. Blood blooms on his shirt at a staggering rate like a crimson flower on a snow white field. He is clearly in pain and I am surprised to feel an answering pain in my own chest.

I reach for him, my fingers caressing through his hair. His eyes snap open, meeting mine with a strangely potent mixture of fear, gratitude, and hate.

"Castiel," he breaths, a hundred words left unsaid.

I stroke his hair and a spark lights between us. With an unbridled rush of faith, the fissure is closed and his mind is opened to me once again. He is pleased to see me, breathlessly thankful and it brings a smile to my lips. I feel him search my mind, seeking for his daughter. An intense grief flows from him and he presses his face into my palm, swallowing his tears.

"We do keep our promises," I assure him. "Your work is done now." His skin burns against my palm. "It is time for you to go home now. Your real home."

"Claire?"

I nod once, stroking his cheek. I cloak him in my powers and surround his soul, gently coaxing it free. His grip on my arm startles me. His fingers dig painfully into my arm.

"No," he choughs. "Take me."

I feel as though I have been doused in ice. He does not understand what he is asking of me. I would rather die than grant this. I start to shake my head, but his voice stops me.

"Castiel, you have to take me." His life is fading quickly, blood coating his lips. "Take me instead."

I lean closer, gripping his face tightly. "You must understand what this means. I will never be able to release you. You will never age." I force him to meet my eyes. "You thought the past year was bad? Just imagine that as a hundred thousand."

Horror pulses through his heart and for a moment I think he will recant, but then I hear his searching thought.

"I will be with you always," I promise. "Always."

He hesitates for only a second before he nods in agreement. I press my hand to his forehead, transferring my spirit into his body. There is a flush of uncertainty from him and I fear he will regret this, but it is replaced with ready acceptance.

I look to his wife and daughter, both clutched in each other's arms.

They don't belong to me anymore, do they? He asks.

I cannot keep my sorrow from him. No, they don't.

A perplexing apathy floods his mind. It's for the best.

I could… but he interrupts me.

No! Just leave it.

Are you certain? I press.

Yes.

I turn and leave before I can be tempted by irrational thoughts. The wind rushes beneath my wings and I am achingly aware of his suffering. I desperately wish there was something I could do.

Cas.

The rhythm of my wings halts in surprise. Yes?

There is silence for so long, I almost begin to worry. Thank you.

Within the recesses of my mind, I surround him with my glory, wrapping him tightly in my wings, protecting him from everything he has ever feared or did not understand. Sympathy surges over me as he returns my embrace.

With excessive tenderness, I suppress his spirit, locking him in a stasis of non-time. He does not resist the betrayal, though confusion clouds his last thought. My hands press against my face and for the first time, I cry.