This was a place where Castiel felt safe. Where he wasn't under the thumb of an oppressive heaven. Where his duties and charges of the Winchester variety could be forgotten, if only for a moment. This was a place where he could just be. And if he was honest with himself, which he should be more often, Castiel was truly happy here.
Here was a small pocket universe that he had created for himself. Nestled between the Earth he knew and the murky plane of existence that no living thing could pass through unharmed, minus an angel of course, Castiel had spent a few earthly years planning, preparing and constructing a perfect getaway. A place he could relax.
And what helped him relax the most were his bees. He loved to watch them fly aimlessly to the flowers around them. He loved to spy on them in their square hives while they make honey. It was a hobby that Castiel could spend eternity doing and never get tired of it.
He took great care while he was constructing his universe so that it would be able to provide the sustenance his bee hives would need to thrive and be a welcoming, warm environment to any that could make the journey unharmed. And while it's true that he had created this world before he had gotten himself entangled with the Winchesters and their seemingly never ending parade of bad guys and world ending catastrophes, it was set up to be able to provide the proper environmental conditions for any humans that would arrive. Although, at the time, he had never expected Dean Winchester or his younger brother Sam to have made such a large impact on him that he would let them into his sanctuary. But Castiel had considered letting them in on many occasions. He just hasn't gotten around to it yet.
At this moment, Castiel is just enjoying the perpetually perfect weather. Even though Castiel was not affected by something as trivial as the temperature of the air around him, the days here were a perfect 78 degrees, a few clouds in the sky casting shadows on the vast fields, and just a touch of humidity. He couldn't have the flowers drying out.
It did rain here, occasionally. When Castiels mood shifted into the negative, it seemed to do it here as well, even though he can't recall setting that function. One time, the storms had wound up to hurricane forces while Castiel raged and fulminated at the universe. He can't remember what it was about anymore. The bees were not too happy that they had to take shelter, but the hives were held in place and they were no worse for wear. Castiel made it up to them by planting some Wisteria in the garden. He added an archway for them to climb and when they fully grew and bloomed Castiel wondered why he hadn't planted them before. They were beautiful to look at.
Castiel hasn't come here for any particular reason today. He just wanted to sit and enjoy some quiet time by himself. At the moment, there were no big bads to fight, no earth ending catastrophe, none of his heavenly brothers or sisters pestering him for guidance or leadership. But there was a need for a wonderful cup of tea. Yes, a cup of tea and the music of his bees to listen to.
And so he sat there. His fingers playing patterns over the designs of bees and flowers and vines set into the wrought iron table and chairs. Tracing out the stingers and wings and leaves. His familiar trench coat was hanging off the back of one the unoccupied chairs. Every now and the he took a slow sip of his tea from a delicate cup, black with yellow filigree, and enjoyed the taste of the individual molecules, then brought them together to taste it as a whole. A skill he learned from his big brother. His tea was always homemade, sweetened with his bees own honey, there was always a honey jar on the table.
He cast a glance to the hives surrounding him. His table was set up on a grassy opening and his eight hives were set up in a square around him. They were simple box hives, three feet tall and painted white. Castiel had used a bit of his grace to add swirling patterns of art and color and even sounds to reflect the feelings of the colony inside. A mood hive, so to speak. There were so many bees in each hive that Castiel had a hard time singling out the queen when he wanted to check on the well-being of the group. This was sort of his direct line. Today he saw all warm colors and light sounds like flutes and flashes of cheerful celebrations and feasts on his hives.
Beyond the hives was a vast ocean of flowers that spread in a circle all around the hives. Castiel had not set a specific distance for the flower garden, but it spread for miles at least. He had planted as many bee friendly flowers that he could think of. Sunflowers, lilacs, black eyed susans, snapdragons, poppies, lavender, goldenrods, cone flowers, yarrow, and plenty of others stretched out for his bees to sample freely. There was no rhyme or reason to where they were planted, and the colors blended, faded into each other, grouped naturally. It created its own tapestry of color.
Past the flowers to the north was the orchard. Apples, oranges, limes, and cherries. His harvests were always plentiful. When the fruits were ripe, they were transported into the waiting carts by angelic grace. Castiel didn't need to eat, but he did enjoy the sweet fruits with his drink. And if a few bushels were snapped up into delicious warm pastries waiting in pie limbo to be delivered to a certain hunter, no one had to know.
The lake to the east is a new addition to his universe. Castiel did not create this, but he did have it transported here. When the earth has slipped into night, he wanders down the long dock over the still water and waits. And sometimes, when he's lucky, Dean dreams.
To the south is a large, impressive forest. Castiel started the saplings of the large trees growing, mostly oak and maples but there are pines of all kinds and a square mile or two of giant redwoods. He gave them strong roots and sun and left them to it. It only took a month before the trees were towering over the landscape and housing animals of all kinds. There are trails throughout and Castiel enjoys walking the darkened paths. He talks to all the animals when they approach him, they come without fear, but he enjoys the wolves the most. They are the wisest in the forest and they have many wonderful discussions.
West of everything, there is a cabin. It is by no means extravagant, but it is a touch over impressive. Two stories and a wraparound porch is all he knows about the cabin. Castiel has never been in it, there is no need for him to be. But it is furnished, livable. It's just waiting.
As he takes in his surroundings, Castiel has a thought, and worries for his universe. It is true that while he is away the universe is self-sufficient, he isn't sure what happens when his grace gets cut off from himself all together or, even worse, he gets killed. It has happened before, on both counts, unfortunately. And each time he was put back together and able to get away, he flew right back here to check on his oasis. Each time it seemed that nothing had been negatively affected, but it had been short term each time, relatively speaking. He takes another sip of his tea and makes a decision that he will probably regret soon enough.
This is a horrible back up plan, and Castiel knows it.
He lets out a heavy sigh and calls Gabriel.
