Castiel loves the feeling of falling – the wind, moving past him so quickly it is impossible to hear more than silence; the anticipation of impact, setting every one of his nerves taut with fear; the overwhelming pressure against his chest, constricting every breath he manages to gasp in; and the strain on his wings as he pulls away from gravity, avoiding death by a whisper. The copper taste of anxiety and euphoria is enough to send him spiraling down again and again, each time coming closer to the force that could kill even a being such as him. However, Castiel can't remember a time he was ever truly afraid of falling.
Not until now. Not until he became helpless, a piece of driftwood being thrown back and forth against the merciless, gusty rocks of the air. His tattered wings that used to catch the wind are snapped back by it now, bullied into such a submission that it is impossible to imagine that once they had fought against the fierce currents. They will not beat for Castiel, not work as his heart does now, thumping painfully through his chest with such a force he wonders if it will burst before he hits the ground.
For a second he hopes it will be a quick death – at least, until it is upon him and there is nothing left except the raw instinct to try and survive. Every last fibre of his body fights to control the useless, strained muscles along his back, and yet they still refuse to obey. Moments later a jarring impact wipes the breath from his body and leaves the angel lying broken in a field, completely torn from everything he used to be.
"Cassy, you must try my ale. It's truly brilliant. Human devices are rather easy to manipulate."
Gabriel's voice echoed from the hallway leading into Castiel's dark room. He barely shifted, staring at the floor without seeing anything. The shock of the punishment still plagued him, refusing to let him believe they had been cast down from heaven. The thought was too much for him to bear – the weight of his sins, crippling to dwell on. Why hadn't he fought harder? Died, rather than let this happen? It was his fault. All his fault.
"Cassy. Castiel."
The voice was closer this time. Castiel slowly lifted his head to see his brother's silhouette against his dark door frame. The light from the hallway cast darkness over the other angel's face and created a halo of light around him, as if he still held some sort of a heavenly power. It made Castiel's chest ache more.
"You can't hide in here the whole time," his brother chided, sauntering over to the small desk next to Castiel's bed. There was nothing on it, though Gabriel spent a minute supposedly examining the wood. "You know it wasn't your fault anyways."
"It must be my fault. I should have been stronger." The words were bitter.
There was a moment of silence as Gabriel turned back to him, a sad glaze settling over his eyes. The light from the doorway illuminated his features and revealed the ghost of a wing splattered black against the back of the room, a mere shadow of what it used to be.
"Champagne," Gabriel finally said, as if he had made a decision. "We need some champagne."
With a wave of his hand a bottle materialized and quickly filled with sparkling liquid. Two shot glasses appeared as well, clinking lightly together and glinting in the light. They hovered in front of the older angel as he poured the bubbling, brilliantly gold liquid into them. Castiel watched in silence, pursing his lips slightly.
"How can you be so careless? You were thrown down too, Gabriel."
His brother tensed slightly but continued pouring. Once he finished, a glass floated to Castiel's hand, bumping him insistently until his delicate fingers closed around it.
"I've learned that moping, Cassy," Gabriel sighed, raising the glass, "Really doesn't do any good. I see this as a vacation."
He tipped back his head and swallowed the champagne quickly, closing his eyes and savouring the taste for a time. "Mm, yes, this is perfect…"
"Vacation? We are banned from our home. We are expected to live as humans for decades!" Castiel's voice rose and he followed it, stiffly moving to his feet. Every muscle on his back was rigid with grief and anger at himself and Gabriel and all the angels who had cast them aside so carelessly. Pins stabbed at his heart thinking of it.
"Drink," Gabriel commanded, raising his voice as well, though not offering any words of comfort or agreement. Castiel threw back the champagne angrily, more desperate to yell at Gabriel than to feel the buzz of the drink. It bubbled all down his throat, igniting a path within him while he thought of a way to convince Gabriel that he can't simply pretend to be a mortal. That he can't abandon his duties as an angel.
However, before Castiel got a chance to say anything, Gabriel flitted over and squeezed his shoulder.
"Brother. If the fault is to rest on anyone, it is to rest on me," he said solemnly, letting the weight of his guilt briefly show through his eyes. Castiel clenched his jaw, a part of him desperate to believe that, but a larger one wishing to argue. Gabriel continued, "Besides, you must understand why we were put on Earth?"
"To pay for our sins," Castiel answerd immediately, his voice sounding alien and void of emotion even to him.
"Dear, dear Cassy, we are being given a chance to redeem ourselves," Gabriel explained patiently as the sides of his mouth quirk up into a smile.
"What do you mean?" Castiel asked sharply, staring into his brothers eyes. They lit up with a sort of excitement, flashing for a second in the darkness. It is a light he knew well – one that often preceded a brilliant plan, ending with one or both of them nearly dying.
"All we've got to do is get rid of the little problem we let out."
Castiel stared at Gabriel in disbelief. If they could not fight Him even with their powers, how was it possible now in such a weakened state? They would die before they managed to deal out more than a scratch. Then again, perhaps that is what the other angels want… For them both to suffer and die.
"Oh come on Cassy, it isn't too difficult, we can manage-," Gabriel started, but Castiel kicked the frame of the bed, effectively cutting his brother off as the loud bang rang through the air. Perhaps he was being childish, but he couldn't find it in himself to care at the moment.
"Would you stop calling me that?" he hissed through clenched teeth, referring to the nickname both Gabriel and his other brother, Balthazar, seem to enjoy calling him. Castiel really didn't mind too much, but the other issue that rested on his mind was more difficult to deal with and he still felt as if he had to rid himself of all this anger. Yelling at his brother for something controllable, easy and fixable – compared to the chaos of the other much larger problem – felt good.
"We can do it, Castiel," Gabriel put emphasis on his name, though his mocking tone was only half-hearted. "We can set the trap this time. We'll have the upper hand."
"How will we even find him, Gabe?" Castiel whispered, the anger slowly draining from him to be replaced by hopelessness. His chest felt as if it would burst from the different emotions flitting through it, but at the moment they were dulled by exhaustion. It was then that everything truly hit him and Castiel suddenly realized just how alone the two of them were. They had nothing left – they meant nothing to heaven, or to their father, anymore.
It was enough to rip the emotion right out of him. Enough to leave Castiel as an empty shell for a long, long time. And for centuries, nothing Gabriel said could ever truly bring back the younger, innocent version of his brother that used to love diving off clouds. That is, not until the Winchester boy walked into his club.