Falling hurt. It hurt worse than carving the banishing sigil on his chest. It hurt worse than the time he walked over the demon to get out of the Holy Fire, with the flames licking at the end of his coat.
Castiel didn't know how long he had been lying there, certainly a longer time than he normally would have, his neck was stiff and he felt a tingling sensation in his arm. Something he could remember Sam had described as a 'sleeping limb'.
Castiel had only felt something like this once before, when he had begun falling just a few years ago. That had felt like diminishing, his essence, his Grace, had been chipped at over time and was flaking away no matter how he tried to cling to it.
This was more, this was having everything that made him Castiel flung away, and being left with what little Grace could keep him alive, alive as a human. He had enough Grace so that he was still him, not a walking corpse, a mindless thing that could do nothing for anyone.
Castiel felt so much smaller, he fit the body now. He was squished in, shoved inside, scraping against the walls of Jimmy's mind. Dean had told Castiel once that he walked far too stiffly to be comfortable. It was true, Castiel wasn't comfortable. He was an Angel of the Lord, he was approximately the size of the Chrysler building, and he was made tiny by the vessel he was in. He was forced to contort his true form until he could fit inside poor Jimmy. Now though, now his vessel was his body. Castiel was no longer aching to leave it, he was no longer aching against the confines of it.
It fit him almost perfectly. Castiel no longer had a true form, he would no longer feel the need to become something bigger, something more powerful than what the body allowed him to be. He would never feel true freedom like he had felt when he shed this body and flew.
Castiel no longer had the wings that allowed him to fly.
A ball of light flashed over him, trailing a tail of fading light and dust behind it, the light broken up by the branches of the trees that stood high above him. Castiel sat up, the tingling in his arm becoming painful as he used it to lever himself up.
The light, it couldn't be what Castiel thought. Please let it not be what he had thought.
Castiel stood, wobbling just a little. It had been so much easier when he still had his Grace. He was off balance now, unable to move like he once was. Before he would have just flown to a different spot, a clearer one, but now he had to pick a direction and walk, hoping that it was the way to lead him somewhere open.
It took him ten minutes to get out of the woods, he stood on the edge of a road, scattered trees and farmland was before him, and the night sky was falling.
What humans would mistake as the meteors were falling to Earth, hundreds, no thousands, of them were falling.
The Angels were falling.
Metatron had cast all the Angels out of Heaven.
It was all Castiel's fault.
He sat down on the edge of the road, crossing his legs as each of his brothers and sisters crashed down to Earth. He could do nothing more for them, he could only watch their passage and hope they survived the fall. Most would not.
Dawn came before the Angels stopped falling; Castiel knew it wouldn't stop for days. Still, he stayed in his spot on the ground. Keeping his silent vigil up, he didn't leave even when his stomach started protesting. It had been empty for far too long. Castiel couldn't remember the last time food had passed his lips, he had only drunk coffee while avoiding Naomi and her minions.
His back ached as the sun rose, he should leave, he should get up and try to find a phone. Castiel needed to go and find a phone and call Dean. He stayed on the ground though, there was too much, too much to decide. Which way would he go? Would he go to the bunker? Or would he go out and find the surviving Angels? Would they even accept his help? It was too much for him at this moment, he couldn't think when his heart beat loud in his ears and his stomach ached for food that he didn't have.
A pickup truck drove down the road, kicking up gravel as it made its way down. It slowed down as it approached Castiel. The dust covered truck stopped in front of Castiel. The window rolled down and a man stuck his face out.
"You need some help?" the man asked. Castiel squinted up at him. He stifled his surprise when he saw the man's face.
"I would like a ride," Castiel told him.
"Well then, get in buddy." The man waved a hand for Castiel to get up. Castiel walked around the car to get in, only wobbling a little when he first got up, but that was mostly from hunger and not from lack of control of his body.
"Thank you," he said once he was in the truck.
"It ain't any trouble, where you headed too?" the man asked as he put the truck in drive and started down the road. "You headed anywhere?"
"To the nearest town please." The man nodded, not saying anything more. They fell into an easy silence, neither of them feeling the need to speak.
The nearest town turned out to be Rensselaer; Castiel didn't know whether or not to be surprised to find he had fallen in Indiana. Castiel thanked the man when he stopped at a gas station to let Castiel out.
"Here," the man said, reaching across the bench seat and shoving a handful of dollars at Castiel. "Get something to eat." Castiel thanked him again.
Castiel did not get something to eat right away, even though he knew he should. He instead got change for the payphone and called the one person he knew who would help him.
"Yeah?" The voice was thick with worry, Castiel didn't speak for a moment, wondering if he should burden his friend like this. "Hello?"
"Dean," Castiel said finally.
"Cas, is that you?" Some of the worry in Dean's voice slipped away.
Castiel explained to him what had happened, Metatron's trick, the Angels falling, everything, even how Castiel himself was human. Dean told him to stay put, that he would drive out and get him right away.
Castiel took a seat on a small stone wall in the center of town, the town center behind him. People passed him as they walked down the street, nobody taking notice of the slightly hunched man who stared at them as they passed.
The world was a lot duller than it had been before, Castiel could no longer see peoples souls. He could not see the shimmering dancing gold of newborns, so excited to finally be in the world, still untainted by everything in it. He couldn't see the darker edges of people who have seen cruelty; he couldn't see the black spots of the ones who had done cruel things.
He couldn't see how the souls of the couple who walked hand in hand mixed with one another's, how they were sure to caress the others soul, how combined they shown brighter than even newborn souls.
This was the true loss, Castiel thought. Losing the sight of all those souls burdened him. It was a much brighter world when he could see them; the world had shimmered with their brilliance. Now the world was darker, its colors more mundane compared to what he had seen before.
As some of the people passed him, Castiel tried to guess what color their soul would have. The woman on the phone with the wide smile would have a beautiful soul, he decided, with yellows and reds combining and swirling together so that they would never be still enough to drag out the darker hues.
The older man across the street would have a grey one, so close to death that his soul was already getting ready to leave this Earth. Castiel wondered if it would be all right to tell him goodbye.
It went on for hours, Castiel assigning arbitrary colors to the people who passed him, unable to actually see if his guesses were true. For that's all they were, guesses that would had nothing to do with anything but what Castiel had already seen.
The rumbling of an engine caught his attention. The Impala drove down the street, parking across the street from Castiel. He sat up, straightening his back as he watched the man inside the car hang up a phone.
The man got out of the car, a smile crossing his face as he caught sight of Castiel. He walked across the street, not even looking to see if any cars were coming towards him.
"Cas, man it's good to see ya," he said. And it was Dean's voice, the voice that had yelled at Castiel to leave him when he had dragged the man from Hell, the voice that had told Castiel that he needed him, the voice that had always promised that it would fix things.
Dean caught Castiel up in a hug, winding his arms tightly around Castiel, and not letting go until he felt a soft pat on his back from the other man.
Dean pulled back and looked at Castiel, "Cas? Something wrong?"
Castiel stared at the man before him. He had never seen Dean's face before, only seeing the soul that lay underneath his skin. The soul that had been torn practically to shreds while in Hell, his soul had dark stains on it that could never come off, but even with that Dean's soul had been a thing to marvel at. Beautiful green with swirling edges of blue and a red that Castiel had only seen at dusk.
It was a soul that Castiel could have stared at for ages, even Gabriel had found it entrancing. Castiel mourned the loss of it, he would have given almost anything to be able to see Dean's soul again.
Now though…
Very few people have their soul written upon their body, they kept their soul hidden within them, a secret that few people would be able to find.
Dean did not keep his soul hidden away in a forgotten corner.
It was written all over him, in the green of his eyes and the corners of his mouth. It was there in the weight of his hand on Castiel's shoulder. Dean's soul had been the most beautiful soul Castiel had ever seen in his long life, and now, as a human, Dean was the most beautiful human Castiel had ever been in the presence of. His soul was so close to the surface that even now, Castiel could sense it.
"Cas, I thought we got past the silent staring." Dean's voice broke through Castiel's thought process.
"I'm sorry," Castiel said, taking a step back. "It is good to see you Dean." And it was, while his soul was hidden from Castiel now, possibly forever, he could still see the trace of it. Castiel knew what to look for so it would not be completely hidden from him.
"C'mon, Sammy's waiting for us back at the bunker," Dean said, pulling Castiel away from his spot on the sidewalk.
Castiel would forever mourn the loss of his Grace, he would mourn it every day as he aged, as he found more Angels walking the Earth, he would mourn it every time he passed someone on the street and could not see the beauty of their soul.
"Cas, you all right?" Dean asked the worry was back in his voice.
"I'm all right," Castiel looked at Dean, a smile crossing his face.
Dean looked him up and down. "We're gonna have to get you some knew clothes, can't have the 'Holy tax accountant' look anymore."
Castiel looked down at his rumpled clothing, it was dirty and torn in places. Clearly it would not do to keep it now.
Dean slipped his hand into Castiel's as they crossed the street. Castiel wondered if another Angel were to look at them now, would Dean's soul be mixing with Castiel's? Would Dean be caressing at Castiel's essence?
Castiel thought that maybe his and Dean's souls would look to be dancing. He tightened his grip slightly on Dean's hand, smiling at Dean when the other man looked at him.
There would be time later for talking things over, to speak about the chances to fix things. For now though, Castiel was content to let everything slip away for a moment.
A/N
So, instead of working on stories already in progress I decided to do something completely different and unneeded. But hey, at least I didn't just drop off the Earth and not let anything get done.
So anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! It was super fun to write and all the jazz.