Icarus (IK-uh-rus): Son of Daedalus who dared to fly too near the sun on wings of feathers and wax. Daedalus and his son had been imprisoned by King Minos of Crete within the walls of his own invention, the Labyrinth. But the great craftsman's genius would not suffer captivity. He made two pairs of wings by adhering feathers to a wooden frame with wax. Giving one pair to his son, he cautioned him that flying too near the sun would cause the wax to melt. But Icarus became ecstatic with the ability to fly and forgot his father's warning. The feathers came loose and Icarus plunged to his death in the sea.
Castiel took a deep breath as he exited the church, the sounds of panic and hysteria rising behind him. This didn't feel like he had expected it to. He had thought that it would feel good when all the people in that church had knelt before him, that he would be happier when worshipped. But, instead he felt dissatisfied and even powerless. He snorted at himself disdainfully. He, probably the most powerful being on this planet, felt powerless. All of those people, they had stared at him wide-eyed and frightened. Though his father had certainly been feared, worshipped as a being who was certainly not known for his mercy (he wiped out the entire human race with a flood for heaven's sake), he had also been loved. And as he looked into the eyes of the humans on their knees, he could see that he was not loved. All that showed in their eyes was the panic caused by the crumpling of their pastor onto the floor.
He shook his head and prepared himself for flight when a voice stopped him.
"Wait! Sir! Wait!"
He turned to see a young blonde woman running towards him from the church. He cocked his head to the side, not knowing what to expect. She stopped in front of him, panting. He waited, surprised that this girl had come to him despite the terror that he had probably caused her. He was even more surprised, however, when she got down on both knees before him, head bowed.
"I always thought that the Pastor was wrong... My whole church.. They are such hateful people. I just wanted to thank you. Not that I'm happy that he's dead, but it's good to see that God is finally putting a stop to the hatred and hypocrisy that people are committing in his name." Her voice had the slightest hint of a southern lilt.
Castiel looked away from her, a sour taste rising in his mouth. He, of course, could not admit that he wasn't really God. As much as he would like to think that he was, he simply wasn't.
The woman looked up at him, observing him with a scrutinizing stare. Though Castiel could feel her eyes on him, he could not bear to look.
"You know..." she said quietly, "The people in there, they don't know what to think. A lot of them are even refusing to believe that you are God. I don't really know what to believe either. But," she paused, seeming to mull over her thoughts, "even if you aren't the 'real' God, I think that you are definitely something worth believing in." Castiel turned his head sharply to look at her, his brows rising in disbelief. She continued, "All of these years, after the death of my father, after seeing so many horrible things happen to so many innocent people, I found it harder and harder to believe in and love a God that could sit by and do nothing while his creations suffered. But," she smiled, "here you are, and you're doing something. The only time I've ever heard of God actively doing something to help his people was in the bible, and that was thousands of years ago. If it's even true, that is. You are here and you are righting the wrongs, and if that doesn't make you deserve my worship more than some idle entity, I don't know what does. If you are willing to take me, I would gladly serve you over that uncaring deity any day."
Castiel stared at her, unable to think of a response. This girl, who knew nothing about him except for the fact that he had just killed a pastor in front of her, was giving him what even the Winchester's wouldn't: faith. Sam and Dean knew that he had good intentions. They knew that he was "one of the good guys," as they put it. Yet, the moment he had asked them to have a little faith in him, to go against their first instincts and support him, they had treated him like a monster. And just like one would behold a monster, they had feared him and cowered before him, without love, without recognition for the things they had gone through together, and without empathy. A creeping doubt slithered into Castiel's mind. He couldn't help it. After all, what sort of girl just runs up to a creature that has killed a man in front of her instead of running away? Why would she give blindly to him what the Winchesters wouldn't with all that they knew about him?
"How do I know that you are telling the truth," he asked slowly, "and not trying to gain some sort of power by getting close to a God like me?"
"Well..." the woman said, pondering his question, "Is there anyway you can look into my mind? I assure you, if you search my mind or my soul or whatever you'll find that my intentions are nothing like what you say."
Castiel nodded. It was logical enough. After all, what could such a tiny insignificant thing like her possibly hide from him? He touched two fingers to her forehead closing his eyes. First, he searched for proof that she was telling the truth about her feelings on the church's sermons.
"Mom? I don't think I want to come to church with you any more."
"Now why on Earth would you say a thing like that?"
"I don't know... the way the Pastor talks about things like homosexuality... He's so cruel. I thought we were supposed to love our neighbors?"
"Now you stop right there Katrina. You know that bein' gay's a sin. And we ain't got no room for sinners 'round here."
"But, how is it a sin if it's not a choice? People don't choose who they fall in love with."
"Talkin' like that is gunna get you sent straight to hell young lady."
"Mom!"
"I'm just speakin' the truth. I hope you ain't over there havin' no queer thoughts. Ain't no daughter of mine gunna be a damn faggot."
"Mom!"
"Don't you raise your voice at me. Now, I don't wanna hear no more about this, ya hear? I'm payin' for your college tuition so the least you can do is come to church with me once a week. If you don't want to, well then I guess I don't want to help you out financially any more."
"...Fine."
Castiel quickly sifted through the rest of her memories, stopping briefly at the death of her father. He had been shot in a gas station robbery, only guilty of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. It seemed as if everything she had said was true. He could feel the warmth radiating from her, the pure faith and awe, something he had never felt before. He fell in love with the sensation immediately. Yes, he would keep this girl around. Maybe she could help spread his word and bring others to him as well. He moved his hand from her forehead to her cheek, stroking it affectionately. She smiled back up at him.
"Please," he said, "Stand." She did as he commanded, sweeping her long hair out of her warm brown eyes. "Now... I am still not quite sure why you have so easily put your faith into me," he looked into her eyes searchingly, as if there was something in there that her soul could have not told him already, "but I have decided to accept you as my first disciple and advisor. Are you sure you want this Katrina?"
"I won't be the first to say that I'm a bit crazy," Katrina laughed, "I've been told a lot that I'm reckless, but I don't have any regrets so... Yes. I'll go with you wherever you go- for the rest of my life."
Castiel smiled back. It was the first time he had smiled in a long time. Maybe this wouldn't turn out so badly after all.
Castiel looked through the papers that Katrina had printed out on a number of different organizations. They hadn't spoken much since they had met earlier that day, sharing a mutual feeling of "I have no idea what to say." But now the silence was beginning to make him feel a bit awkward, so he opted for small talk.
"So Katrina," he said, "Tell me about yourself."
"What?"
"I feel like I should know more about you, since we are to be working together."
Katrina bit her lip. It felt odd when he referred to their arrangement in a way that suggested that they were equals. She didn't think of it as "working together." To her, it was more accurate to say that she was simply working for him. She was his servant, not his partner.
"Didn't you already look through all of my memories though?"
"It was more of a skimming. I only really looked at the things that were important to me at the moment. I find that what a person chooses to say about themselves says a lot about them." "Alright…" Katrina said thoughtfully, "Well, I was originally born in Texas."
"That's where the accent is from then," Castiel said.
"Hey! I don't have that much of an accent. You should hear my mom!"
"Yes, I heard her in one of your memories, her accent is certainly thicker."
"Damn straight."
"Okay, moving on…" Castiel urged.
"When I was thirteen, my dad was shot in a gas station robbery…" she said quietly, "and my mom went pretty crazy. She made us move up to Ohio, and we never talked to anyone from our home town. She left behind all of our old stuff, literally purging our lives of anything that had a connection to our past. In fact, she even got rid of me in a way. I started to become less of a daughter to her, and more of a burden that she was forced to bear. She got really religious, and I kind of did the opposite. I went from a girl who gladly believed everything that she was told about God, attending a catholic school and sunday school every week, to practically an atheist. Actually, I went through a phase as a teenager, where I was completely convinced that there was a God, but he was just an asshole and I hated his guts."
"Reasonable," Castiel nodded, "How old are you Katrina?" She had literally told more about herself and her deep seated emotional problems than Dean had ever done in all of the time they spent together combined.
"I'm twenty-five." She was even younger than Sam, by three years, and still emotionally mature enough to admit her own problems. Though, perhaps she did have less of a troubled upbringing than the Winchesters. It seemed as if there wasn't anyone who could best them in that regard.
"And how many more years of college do you have?"
"I'm in my last year for my master's degree in psychology."
"Do you want to become a clinical psychologist?"
"I did, but not anymore."
"Why is that?"
"I think that a servant of the Lord is a more important position than a psychologist."
"I suppose you're right."
Katrina smiled.
"You wanna know something else?" she said.
"Sure."
"When I was sitting in church today," she looked down at her hands. " I was thinking about how awful Pastor Jim was. I was wondering why on Earth a god that was apparently so loving could tell people to be so hateful. I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me, that I had missed some sort of holy light that had shined on all of those people that made them so sure of what they believed in. So I started to pray, for the first time in years, and I said, 'Please God, if you're listening, send me some sort of sign. Is this really what you want? Are they right that we should treat these people with such disrespect? And if this isn't what you want, why do you let him continue like this? I don't care which it is, just tell me. Give me some sort of sign. Anything.' And you know what happened?" she looked up at him, "You showed up, and you said," she mimicked his gruff voice, "'I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation,' and it was like my entire world had flipped upside down. It was a gift from God. Except the gift was God. And when you left I couldn't stop myself from running after you. You were the answer to my prayers, literally."
Castiel just stared at her. Katrina started to blush, "It sounds really corny, I know."
"It was certainly a miracle that I happened to go to the right church today," Castiel said, and there was nothing in his tone that could let Katrina have the slightest bit of doubt in his sincerity.
Katrina tried to stifle a yawn, but couldn't manage to hide it completely.
"Alright," Castiel said, "I will take you back to the apartment for the night."
"I'm sorry," Katrina mumbled, ashamed.
"As I have said before, you need not apologize. I understand that you need sleep as a human." Castiel put two fingers on her forehead and flew them to the small apartment he had "rented." In actuality, he just made the landlord believe that an old couple who had paid all off their rent a year ahead of time lived there. They had been there for three days, and Katrina was finally getting used to staying in the apartment with the quiet God. That is, when they were planning their missions. Whenever she went to sleep, Castiel would leave, going God-knows-where. She chuckled inwardly to herself. It was in fact God who knew.
"I just wish I could be more useful," Katrina sighed, slipping her shoes off.
"You are plenty useful," Castiel assured her, "Your faith alone gives me the willpower to continue my missions."
"So basically you keep me around to stroke your ego?" Katrina teased, immediately flashing back to seriousness as she wondered whether or not she should be joking with Castiel quite yet. It had only been a few days since she had joined him, so she didn't know how Castiel reacted to jokes. She hadn't done nearly as much as she would like. He asked her opinion on a few politicians and corporations, and if she confirmed that they were indeed corrupt or evil he would go to them and do something very similar to what he had done at the church. Sometimes he just caused a huge scene, forcing them to submit simply in awe and terror at the enormity of his power. Sometimes, less often, he would smite the leaders. Katrina did not question any of his decisions. It was not her place.
Castiel, however, chuckled at her joke, causing her heart to leap into her throat. He was always so serious, and sometimes very sad, that she didn't think she would ever hear him laugh at anything.
"Sleep," he said, and though it was a command, it still held an affection that made Katrina feel warm.
"Alright. Goodnight Castiel. Thank you again."
Castiel leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead, before disappearing.
The first time Castiel had kissed her like that, Katrina had frozen with shock. Yet, soon she could see that there was not even the slightest hint of a romantic notion. If anything, the gesture was fatherly. Normally, had a man put her in this completely unromantic light, especially one as attractive as Castiel, she would have been pretty put off. Yet, Castiel was not a man, and she found herself strangely at peace with this unspoken bond of master and child. She was a child after all, in comparison to him. He had never told her his age, but she could tell that his existence extended back an unfathomable length of time. Something about him at times just seemed so unspeakably old.
She flopped down on the bed, flipping open her phone. It seemed that she had received three more voicemails from her mother today.
"Katrina! I don't know if you've run away on your own or if you've gone off with somebody else but either way I'll have you know that there is no way that I'm-" Katrina deleted the message, listening to the next one, "Katrina, where are you? I'm gettin' ready to file a missing persons report to the police. I hope you realize how much trouble you are causing me! Think of what people-" Katrina pressed delete again. That was just like her mother, worrying more about what people thought of her than the fact that her own daughter was missing. "Katrina, Judith said she saw you yesterday with the man who killed Pastor Jim! I hope for your sake that that isn't true. Either way, I'm not callin' you no more. If you've left I suppose it's time for me to let you be gone. Don't come cryin' back when this turns 'round and bites you in the ass."
Katrina swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. At least it was over. She had nothing but Castiel now, and that was fine with her. She was a servant of the Lord, and no amount of scolding from her bigoted mother would convince her to leave his side. She placed her phone under her pillow and rolled onto her stomach. After a while, she managed to fall into an uneasy sleep.
Castiel sat on the edge of the grand canyon, his feet dangling over the enormous gorge. The colors of the canyon and the sunset were beautiful. He was proud of how productive he had been. He had visited at least two hundred different organizations that were guilty of cruelty to all different kinds of people, and he had even visited a few places guilty of animal cruelty as well. Of course, Katrina had been a great help over the last few days. Castiel knew of the very large corporations whose hate was publicly broadcasted with a disgusting pride, but Katrina knew of more subtle and less well-known acts of hatred that were just as horrible and in need of correction. Not to mention, she was much better at navigating the internet and researching these different groups.
As well as that, Katrina served another purpose. Whenever Castiel had moments of self doubt, which happened often, she would vigorously assure him that he was doing the right thing. She took it upon herself to make it her life's mission to make Castiel feel like the most holy and loved being in existence. It was pitiful of course. He should not need a human's worship to raise his self-confidence, he was no angsty teenager who needed to be accepted by their peers to have a high sense of self-worth. Yet, he never stopped her. Never had he been beheld by anyone with such love and awe. It was just as the saying; she practically worshipped the ground he walked on. She nearly jumped out of her skin with joy every time he touched her, and had literally no problems with his lack of regard for personal space. She regarded every supernatural act he did as nothing less than a miracle, even if it was nothing more than healing a scrape on her arm. However, he had to admit to showing off a bit at times, healing minor cuts and improving weather conditions just to elicit a reaction from his faithful disciple. But, it just felt so good to be seen with such worshipful eyes.
He had always been significantly more powerful than the Winchesters, but they had never treated him as such. Dean had disregarded his power so many times, even acted as if he were above Castiel. He never gave Castiel the respect that he deserved as a being older than Earth and more powerful than any monster he had ever encountered.
Castiel frowned. Thinking about Dean was making him upset. Though the hunter had scorned him and thrown their friendship aside like trash, Castiel could not help but miss having him by his side. He felt a sudden urge to check up on him, even though he knew that his concern for the hunter's well-being would not be appreciated. However, if he made himself invisible, Dean would never have to know. He stood up, brushing the red dust off of his coat. He honed in on Dean's soul and flew to it's location, hoping that the hunter would be asleep. Dean was always so peaceful when he was asleep.
He wasn't.
Katrina woke with a start. It was still dark, but the crash of something breaking had thrown her out of her sleep.
"Castiel?" She called groggily, squinting into the dark. There was no response. Her heart thudding in her ears, she got up and slowly crept to the room's light switch. She flicked the light on, and when her eyes adjusted she saw Castiel sitting in a corner, shattered glass from what looked like a vase surrounding him.
"Castiel...?" Katrina asked hesitantly, slowly approaching him, "What's wrong?"
"I went to check on the Winchesters..." Castiel said hollowly. Katrina frowned. Castiel hadn't told her much about the Winchesters, but from what he had said, she knew that they had caused him great deals of pain.
"Did you get into a fight?"
"No... I didn't make myself visible to them. They are under the illusion that their anti-angel sigils will keep me out, and I am going to let them keep believing that. Of course, I am more powerful than an angel."
"Right... so what happened?"
Castiel would not look up at her. She knelt beside him.
"They... they are planning on hunting me down. They want to kill me..." he choked out.
"But, they can't right?" Katrina said, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, "You're too powerful and they're just humans."
"It's not that I'm scared," Castiel said, shaking his head, "It's just that... after all we've been through, they have turned on me so easily. They were my friends. Dean, I rebelled for him, I took on the forces of heaven for him, I have given up my life, all for him. All I ask for in return is his trust, and his response is to hunt me down..."
"Why?"
"Because apparently I am a monster."
"No, I mean, why did you do so much for him? Why is he so important?"
Castiel was silent.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't pry. Pretend I never asked."
Castiel took a deep breath, "I just don't understand... Can't they see that I'm just trying to do a better job than my father did? I am righteous and good, so why don't I deserve their love? What have I done wrong?" His voice broke.
"Castiel... You shouldn't measure your worth based on the opinions of these two men... Frankly, they sound like ungrateful assholes, and horrible friends."
"It's not just them! People bow down to me out of fear for their lives! Never do they worship me with love and faith! Why?"
Katrina carefully placed her hands on either side of Castiel's face. She tilted it up so that she could see his face. Castiel hesitantly looked up into her eyes.
"I love you," she murmured, "and I have faith that you will do what is right. I will never doubt you."
"Yes... I have been thinking about that. I think you may, in fact, be completely insane."
Katrina laughed, "Better a crazy disciple than none at all."
"I suppose you're right... I just wish there was a way I could make them see me the way you do."
"Well... Would it be alright if I gave a suggestion?" She took her hands away from his face and took his hands, looking down at them.
"Of course. You know that I value your counsel greatly."
"Well... you've been spending so much time these last few days smiting people. Maybe you should try helping people. Healing the sick, things like that. People need to see that you have good and loving intentions, not that you are simply out to purge the land of horrible people. Us normal humans who aren't used to the supernatural don't take death so well, even if we don't particularly like the person who died."
Castiel smiled, "You certainly carry a lot of wisdom along with that insanity."
"You know what they say, the craziest people are usually the smartest."
"Katrina?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sure you do not wish to continue your education? It seemed important to you in your memories. You did continue going to church with your mother to keep her funds after all."
"Nah," she shrugged, "Who needs college when you're walking along side God? Literally."
"I am glad that you feel that way. I also enjoy having you by my side."
Katrina smiled and kissed both of his hands, "There is nothing more I could ask for."
Castiel stood, making the broken shards of glass around him vanish with a flick of his wrist. He pulled Katrina up as well. "You should go back to sleep. Tomorrow we will start our missions of healing."
Katrina nodded and made her way back to the bed, surprised when Castiel followed her, sitting at the edge as she laid down.
"You're not going... where ever it is you usually go then?"
"No, I think I will stay here. I'll watch over you as you sleep." He tensed, ready for her to tell him that it was creepy, as Dean used to.
"Alright," she said calmly, shifting under the covers onto her side.
"That's okay with you?" Castiel asked, confused.
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be? I've got God watching over me in my sleep. I couldn't possibly be any safer," Katrina murmured, her eyes closing.
"Goodnight child."
"Goodnight Castiel."
Castiel entered the hospital room, his heart sinking at the sight of a small girl who was hooked up to a number of machines. Katrina came in behind him and her heart did the opposite. She felt a great joy at the sight of the girl. Not because of what she was going through, but because she knew that the girl was going to be healed, and it was beautiful. This was perhaps the hundredth child they had visited that day, and Katrina had been right. People had reacted with so much more enthusiasm to Castiel, thanking him over and over again, hugging him, kissing him, and crying with joy. She could tell that Castiel was feeling much better.
"Um, can I help you?" The mother said hesitantly from the chair at her child's bedside.
Katrina stepped forward. They had found the people were more willing to listen to her than Castiel. It was probably because she was a woman, and people tended to trust women more, unfortunately.
"Yes. Hello, my name is Katrina, and this is Castiel. Can we talk to you about something?"
"I guess..." the woman said hesitantly.
"Can I ask what happened to your daughter?"
"She was hit by a car... she won't wake up."
"And what would you be willing to do to make her better?"
"What kind of question is that? Anything of course!"
"Well, that is why we're here. We're here to help."
"What kind of joke is this?"
"It's no joke ma'am," Castiel cut in, "I can heal your daughter."
"I don't know what kind of sick people you are but you can-" The mother started angrily.
"Didn't you say you would do anything to help your daughter?" Katrina interrupted, "What harm would it do to trust us? It will only take a second, we will leave as soon as we are done if that's what you want." The woman stared at them, contemplating their words.
"Fine," she spat. Many parents were persuaded by this, so desperate that they were willing to accept help from an apparent madman, because they simply had nothing else to believe in.
Castiel nodded, walking over the girl. The mother glared at him as he put his hand on her forehead. That glare sooned turned into wide-eyed disbelief however as a light shined from Castiel's eyes, and the bruises began to fade away from the girl's skin, color returning to her cheeks. The girl stirred. The woman gasped, rushing forward and taking her daughter's hand.
"Emma? Emma can you hear me?"
"Mommy..?" the girl coughed around the tube that was in her throat, originally placed to keep her breathing. The woman gently pulled out the tube, starting to sob. "Oh my God..."
Katrina smiled as she watched the girl's mother hug her desperately.
The woman looked up at them, tears shining in her eyes, "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Of course. It's my job after all," Castiel said.
"Who are you?"
"I am God."
"...God?"
"Yes."
"I've never heard of God going around and healing people."
"I'm doing things a bit differently now." Castiel smiled.
"So... who are you?" The woman said, turning to Katrina.
"I'm just a servant of God," Katrina said humbly.
"Like an angel?"
"N-"
"Yes," Castiel interrupted. Katrina glanced at him, confused.
"Well, thank you both," The woman said, giving them a watery smile. "I won't forget this."
Castiel nodded, turning to leave. Katrina followed him out the door, grinning.
"I will never get tired of the joy you bring," she said as they got into the hall.
"That woman made me think," Castiel said quietly.
"About what?"
"When she asked if you were an angel, it gave me an idea."
"Okay..."
"I am God, therefore, I should have angels."
"That makes sense I guess."
"You said that you wanted to be of more help to me, right?"
"Yeah?"
"What if I made you into an angel?"
"What? You can do that?" Katrina's voice went up a half an octave.
"Again, I am God."
"But... the original angels... they were just created, right? They weren't made from humans."
"I'm sure there will be a few differences, but you will be an angel nonetheless. My angel."
Tears started to gather in Katrina's eyes, "I don't know what to say..."
"Say yes," Castiel smiled and placed a hand on her cheek. Katrina leaned into it, closing her eyes.
"Yes, of course." She was going to be an angel. She would be powerful enough to make a difference. She would be able to help Castiel in ways she had never imagined. She grinned through her tears, "I couldn't think of anything I would rather do."
"Is it going to hurt?" Katrina asked, worried.
"I am not sure. I hope not. I will try to make it as quick as possible, but I do want to be thorough. This is not something I should do sloppily."
"I understand."
They were back in the apartment. Katrina had wanted to continue their mission in the hospital, but Castiel insisted that they do it immediately. It was likely that this transformation would be very draining, so he wanted to save as much energy as he could. Katrina was laying on her bed while Castiel sat next to her.
"Are you ready?"
"I think so." Katrina swallowed nervously, seeking Castiel's hand and lacing her fingers into his. Castiel squeezed her hand gently, and put his other hand on her forehead.
Katrina closed her eyes as she felt a warmth radiate from Castiel's hand. It was pleasant. She could feel the energy starting to spread through her body, like a warm buzzing. She sighed, relaxed. This wasn't so bad at all. The buzzing began to build, as did the warmth. But it was just a bit of heat, nothing she couldn't deal with. The buzzing turned into a crackling, and the energy from Castiel's hand started to race through her with more force. It felt like electricity coursing through her muscles and veins. Katrina started to squirm with discomfort. The warmth was becoming a sharp heat and the crackles seemed to be intensifying into sharp bursts of splintering energy.
Castiel could feel Katrina tensing beneath his hand as he continued the flow of energy into her body. In truth, he had known that this would probably be a painful experience, given that the human body wasn't equipped to deal with such high levels of power. But, before he could manifest her wings and her abilities, he had to transfer all of the required energy into her first. Once her body had reached full capacity though, he would have to be quick. Allowing such high levels of energy to reside in her for too long could have disastrous effects on her body and mind.
A small whimper broke from Katrina's throat as the pain increased. Though her eyes were closed, she was being practically blinded by a blinding golden light that seemed to be emanating from her eyelids themselves. She felt as if it were about to drive her insane. Part of her wanted to scream out and beg that Castiel stopped, that being an angel wasn't worth this torture, but she bit it back. It would be worth it. She was going to be powerful and immortal, and she was going to be a perfect servant for Castiel, one who could actually do something useful. She dug her fingers into the bedsheets and clenched her jaw, biting down on the scream that was threatening to rip from her lungs. The worst part was that there was no chance for her to adjust to the pain. It just kept increasing, faster and faster. She just wished she would black out already. Once as a kid she had broken her leg and fainted from the pain. This was thousands of times worse, so how on earth was she still conscious?
Castiel grimaced as Katrina neared her full capacity. She was in such pain that he could hear her tortured soul screaming out. Tears were pouring out of her eyes. But still, she remained silent. He was amazed by her sheer willpower. He had seen people experience far lesser ordeals with much less grace. He felt her body reach it's filling point and halted the energy flow, then quickly went to work. He started with her wings, and for accuracy's sake he manifested them in physical form. Glowing masses of sinew and bone began to sprout from her back, ripping through her clothing. Katrina gasped, shocked at the new sensations registering from a part of her body that she had never even had before. It started to become extremely uncomfortable seeing as she was laying on her back, her new appendages being crushed between her and the mattress.
"Castiel," she choked. Castiel helped her sit up, keeping his hand on her forehead as the wings grew into completion. He decided to make her wings different from any other angel. After all, she was a whole new breed of angel. Not built by his father but created by him from a human. Feathers sprung from her bare wings, rustling with a static electricity. When he was done, Katrina's feathers were an array of blue, black, and white, almost identical to that of a blue jay. They were striking and unique, just as Castiel wanted.
Katrina's pain had significantly decreased as Castiel manifested her wings, as if the energy that was threatening to rip her body open was running into them like water from a crack in an overflowing dam.
Once her wings were completed, Castiel put them into their intangible state, and laid her back down on the bed. He began working on her abilities, trying to copy exactly what all angels had. Given that he wasn't exactly sure how grace was harnessed into these specific channels of tools, he reproduced the basic components of his own grace pathways. In a mathematical sense, he was simply replicating the coding from his own angelic grace and transferring it to her. However, because she did not have the same "power source" as him, there was a chance that her faculties may manifest differently. Hopefully the difference wouldn't be too great. He felt Katrina relax as he neared the end of the process.
Katrina let out a sigh as she felt the energy ebb down into the original warmth. Once it reached this point, it levelled off and stopped decreasing. As the echoes of the pain faded away from her mind, she started to enjoy the pleasant sensation, her breathing slowing so that she was no longer gasping for air. She felt like a cup filled with the perfect amount of warm cocoa. She stretched, marvelling at the unfamiliar presence of her new appendages. It was the strangest sensation she had ever experienced. Now that they weren't in their physically manifested form she could feel their presence, but they were like ghosts- phantom limbs. She wished that she had been able to see them before Castiel had made them vanish. She sat up, a bit overwhelmed by all of the stimuli that were bombarding her. She could hear Castiel's breathing and the conversations of people in the next apartment and hundreds of things in between.
She grimaced, "How do you deal with the super-hearing? I don't know if I could ever hold a conversation like this."
"Right now, all of your sensors are stretched out to maximum capacity. Once you grow accustomed to your powers, you will learn how to extend and retract your senses at will and you will be able to block out unnecessary sounds and smells. For example, right now I am simply focused on the sounds in this room, such as your voice and your heart rate. But, every once in a while I stretch out my awareness to the rest of the building and outside to make sure that there is no danger approaching."
Katrina nodded, rubbing her temples. Then she looked up at Castiel and gasped. Something was wrong with his face. His skin seemed to be flaying, like someone had dragged his face across the pavement.
"Castiel?" she asked hesitantly, "Did something happen to your face? Or was that always there, invisible to my human sight…?"
"What?" Castiel said, confused. He procured a mirror from thin air and observed his face, frowning with worry. He stood, his face tainted with horror. As he stood, a sudden dizziness swept over him. He staggered.
Katrina rushed to his side, holding his arm in support.
"Castiel what's wrong?" she asked, beginning to panic.
"Nothing," Castiel shook his head, "It seems that the process sapped me of more strength than I expected. I have to go."
"I'll go with you!"
"No," Castiel pulled his arm from her grasp, "You stay here. You need more time to adjust to your new power."
"But Castiel…"
"Do not worry about me. I will be back soon," Castiel said, attempting a reassuring smile. It was not at all convincing. But before Katrina could protest any further, something flashed in Castiel's eyes that was very un-Castiel, making her take a step back. Castiel vanished immediately.
"Damnit…" Katrina muttered, sitting back down on the bed.
Castiel did not return for two days. Katrina spent most of her time practicing little things like controlling her awareness and turning the lights on and off with a flick of her wrist. It didn't take much more than a thought. She just concentrated on her intentions and moved her hand. It reminded her of the Sonic Screwdriver on Doctor Who; "Just point and think." She couldn't figure out how to fly however. In all honesty, Castiel's "flying" just felt like teleportation. She had no idea how to work her wings, and she didn't even know if flapping them like a bird would get her anywhere. It felt as if it would be so much easier if she could actually see her wings.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, shirt off, wondering if she could manifest her wings physically like Castiel had. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what she would look like with wings. She opened one eye hesitantly. Nope. Nothing. Maybe this wasn't something she could do with her imagination. She closed her eyes again, taking a deep breath. She "stretched" her phantom wings as much as she could, focusing on the memory of how it felt to have wings, for the brief time that she had them. She could feel something changing, like the buzzing of energy collecting between her shoulderblades. She concentrated harder, remembering the feeling of her rustling feathers and the discomfort of having them crushed underneath her. Then she felt a sudden pain. She gasped, opening her eyes to see that her wings had formed and that her left one was currently pressed against one of the towel hooks. She shifted to the right, pulling her wings in around her. it was so odd, flexing muscles that had been previously nonexistent.
She was beginning to feel cramped, her wings aching to stretch out, so she squeezed out through the doorway and into the main room. She sighed with relief as she extended her wings, marvelling at their size and power. Her feathers were a beautiful blue, with speckles of black and white. She had expected them to be just plain white. This was so much better. She ran her fingers through them, smiling at how soft they were.
Suddenly, Castiel appeared in front of her. Katrina jumped in surprise.
"Castiel!" she exclaimed, "where have you been?"
"It's kind of a long story," Castiel said. His face was even worse now, the skin peeling away from his flesh. He looked away from her, his face slightly abashed.
"Oh," Katrina looked down at herself, remembering that she had no shirt on, "Sorry, I'll go get dressed."
"It's not that," Castiel shook his head, "the naked human body hardly concerns me."
"Then what is it?"
"Your wings."
"My wings? How?"
Castiel shifted uncomfortably, "It is very uncommon for angels to manifest their wings in front of each other, or anyone for that matter. They are somewhat... intimate to us." Katrina raised her eyebrows at the word "us." She had searched Castiel's name on the internet while he had been gone, and she had seen that Castiel was actually the name of an angel. She wasn't quite sure if she believed that it was the same being as her Castiel, but it seemed now that it was.
"Oh…" Katrina frowned, "That's a shame though. They're so beautiful. It almost seems like they're meant to be shown off," thinking that she would have liked to see Castiel's wings as well.
"I'm afraid not all angel wings look like yours," Castiel explained, "I decided that your wings should be unique, just as you are. No other angel is like you, therefore you should not look the same as all other angels."
Katrina smiled. Her ego quite liked that explanation to be honest.
"So what color are most angel wings then? Just white?"
"Most angels have white wings, yes. A few more powerful angels, the archangels, have golden wings."
"So what color are yours then?"
Castiel grimaced, "Mine are neither white nor gold. I have something far rarer."
"And what's that?"
"Up until a few years ago, I had white wings. But then I was assigned to raise Dean Winchester out of hell. Angels rarely venture into hell, and those that do never have to go down as deep as I did. My time in hell scorched my wings black."
"Wow," Katrina exhaled in awe, "that sounds amazing." She flushed, embarrassed, "Not that you had to go into hell that is. I mean, it's cool that you were able to go in so deep and survive but what I meant is that having black wings sounds really beautiful and I think it really suits you." The last bits came out in a bit of flustered, garbled mess. But Castiel didn't seem to mind, chuckling,
"I'm glad you think so."
"So…." Katrina asked slowly, "I don't suppose I'm allowed to see your wings then?"
Castiel shook his head, "Not today. Maybe one day."
Katrina liked the sound of that. In that sentence was the promise of days to come, and she knew that there would be many.
"What about your face? Should I heal you?"
"No," Castiel said, "It's most likely because my power has been drained from your transformation. I'm sure that they will heal of their own accord when I have regained my strength."
Something in his voice made Katrina suspect that he was hiding something. But she decided to let it slide. She was, afterall, just a servant. She was hardly entitled to knowing everything that was going on with Castiel.
"Now," Castiel continued, "If you could please put your wings back away, I think it's about time I taught you how to use them."
Katrina grinned, excited. She pushed back all of the questions she was dying to ask, knowing that there would be plenty of time for that later. They had eternity, after all.
