Title: Climax
Pairing: Casifer (Castiel/Lucifer)
Warnings: Angst
Spoilers: pre-series, pre-Fall
Summary: Here, this, right here, is where it begins. And then, terribly, beautifully, it all ends.


Here, this, right here, is the beginning.

Angels, many, conferring under a tree. What kind of tree seems to change. At one point it's a magnificent fern, then next it's a weeping willow, the next a pine.

"They say he's going to be the one," Uriel says, his form wavering in agitation and gleaming excitement.

"I don't know..."

"Think about it. He's the favorite. He's the spoilt one. If it was anyone, it would be him."

"I called it," Azazel says wryly, the yellow in his eyes seeming to glow brighter, wings flaring out lazily.

"You're wrong," Castiel says vehemently. "Lucifer would never do that. He loves Father."

An angel whose name has been lost to us snorts dryly. "I suppose you would know. He seems to pay quite the attention to you, little Castiel. Tell us, is it as rapturous they say, soaking up the Morningstar's light?"

Castiel flushes in anger, blue eyes flashing.

"Whatever you are implying is incorrect," he growls, True Voice going into that deep-set baritone unique to his form.

"Oh, I'm sure it is, Cassie," Balthazar says, though mostly in good humor. It still irritates Castiel. He growls at them and disappears into the Garden, where he usually goes when he is...agitated.

There is a part, the middle, where one meets the fall, the one to betray. It's a time of rising action, we rise, rise, too high and like Icarus, we fall. So it is now.

"You seem upset, Little One," a soft voice rumbles, and Castiel turns around, Grace brightening at the sight of Lucifer.

"I'm much better now," he says with all the honesty of an innocent, curling into his bright, overwhelming light.

"Tell me what happened," Lucifer murmurs, tangling their Graces together, sending pulsing waves of pleasure through their bond.

Castiel sighs and burrows closer. "Just...doubts. About you and Father." He pauses, a spike of fear drifting through his Grace. "They say you're going to fight," he whispers.

Lucifer grips him tighter but doesn't say a word, and Castiel ignores the horrible sense of foreboding at the non-answer, losing himself in the ecstasy of Lucifer's incredible and blinding beauty.

It ends thus:

An angel, terrible, beautiful, bright and his brother, good, obedient, fight, clash and claw at one another as another looks on, broken, withdrawn, the blue of its eyes dimming as he watches one Fall.


A/N: Long time no see, guys. I've had a rough senior year but graduation is nearing and I've picked up writing again. For all those reading The Bucket List, never fear, I'm working on the next chapter. Which, actually, I had half-written, but then lost the sheet of paper I wrote it on. Awkward...

For everyone new, hello! Welcome! Please, leave me feedback, as I love to improve. I am going to Emerson on a Writing major, after all..

-Cristina