Castiel (Shield of God)
Day 4 Prompt -Write a scene in a church. During season 6 when Castiel is trying to find Purgatory to become God.
The damp smell of rain was in the air. Clouds had already covered the sun and it was far darker than it should have been for two o'clock. The birds had begun to return to their secret nesting places deep within the thick tree branches. Small animals could be seen scurrying to and fro on the forest floor, hurrying to find shelter before the rain broke. They were unaware of the angel walking in their midst.
Castiel was taking a walk through the forest outside of some forsaken town for no reason other than a chance to be with silence for a few hours. A much needed break from Crowley's non-stop monologues. The rumble of thunder didn't bother him, since rain would do little to affect him, and he continued deeper in the forest. After almost half an hour, a small building appeared ahead of him, perched on top of a gently sloping hill. As he moved closer, he could see that it must have been some sort of church. It probably hadn't been used in years, that he could tell just by the outside. Its chipped, white walls were swamped in ivy, the parasitic plant spiraling up to the very top of the spire where the rusty bell hung, split down the side and hanging on an old chain. Small trees were growing through holes in the walls and many rodents could be heard scuttling around inside. The rotting door was hanging on one hinge, creaking in the breeze and barely covering the dark entrance. Against his better judgement, the angel entered, ducking under the swinging door and stepping around the rusty nails on the floor. The interior was almost worse than the ruins outside. The pews, which had once been so orderly, were strewn all across the creaky floorboards and some were even turned over on their sides. Stained glass windows were shattered by rocks thrown from the outside and he had to weave around sharp pieces of beautifully colored glass. The bronze, miniature crosses hanging on the walls had been stolen long ago, leaving behind only the nails they had hung on. All the other valuables had been stolen or stored, but the altar still stood with its big, wooden cross upright as if people had been afraid to disturb it. One pew was positioned in front of it, covering the expletive spray-painted onto the floor. Other such graffiti was sprayed across the inside walls, disgracing the once holy church. Even with all the destruction, the church still had a calm silence radiating within. A calm that the angel had been searching for.
He bypassed the pews, stopping to kneel in front of the altar. After a few seconds, he stood, stepping back to sit on the pew behind. A cold draft could be felt through the cracks in the walls and the broken door so he tucked the almost-to-big trench coat closer around him. Not really sure what to do, he licked his lips nervously before speaking.
"F-Father," he began haltingly, "I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, I didn't intend to come, but I needed to talk to you and I... Well, I need some advice."
His feet shifted against the dirty floor as he gathered his thoughts, small rocks and other debris rolling against the soles of his shoes.
"I'm not quite sure what I'm doing is right. It seems right, but it doesn't feel like it. I don't really know... Going against Sam and Dean is surely not right, my mind says I have to, but my heart feels differently. And working with a Demon? Especially the King of Hell. Well, that's definitely not right. If Sam and Dean would help, I could work with them. Unfortunately, they are dead set against it."
Dean doesn't trust me anymore. He feels like I've betrayed him and I have. This doesn't... I can't tell..."
His voice stumbled, and he lowered his head. Frustration laced his next words.
"Raphael is an Archangel, one of the most powerful beings in Heaven, he is far to strong for me on my own. Without the power of Purgatory, I will never be able to defeat him. I'm not strong enough for this task, I'm just a soldier and I need orders. And now I don't have any and I must make my own way, but is this the way? Is this what you want me to do? Father, where are you when we need you?"
His voice had escalated into a shout, anger leaking in to his previous pleading. Using the power of his Grace, he stood up and hurled the pew into the cross on the altar, watching as they crashed and broke against the floor. A loud burst of thunder rolled outside and the faint patter of rain could be heard on the roof top. Fat drops of water fell through the open holes in the old ceiling, wetting his ruffled, dark hair. Lighting flashed against the stormy sky that matched his eyes, visible through the remains of the stained-glass windows. The angel knelt once again, placing his vessel's hands against the splinter-filled floor and looking away from the remains of the sacred cross.
"Father, I'm afraid of what I'm becoming."