Hey, so this is my first Supernatural story. It's going to be Castiel's point of view on everything that's happened since the beginning of season 4 when he was first introduced to when he "dies" as well as when he comes back (I presume) in future episodes. It has implied Destiel moments like his feelings towards Dean and stuff but no smut since it's following the show (unless they somehow become canon hurhurhur). Each chapter is representative of one or more episodes.

I don't own Supernatural or the characters or anything, but if I did there would be a lot more slash other than eye sex hehehe…


When I was first assigned to raise a human from hell, I did as I was told. I played the good little soldier I was meant to be. Still, I wondered how special this human had to be to earn rescue from perdition. Nowadays, it's not a question.

Once the job was done, I left, but not for long. My curiosity got the best of me. I watched as the human, whom I was told was named Dean Winchester, pulled himself out of the ground and wandered confused down the closest road, looking for some form of civilization. When he made it to an abandoned gas station to find supplies, I attempted to make contact with him. I thought he might be special and able to hear me in my true form. Sadly all I did was cause a high-pitched whining noise, shatter the glass of the station and make him even more confused and scared.

I was disappointed that he couldn't understand me, but I was not discouraged. Still I left, allowed him to rejoin his family, but now I regret not trying to contact them successfully before the psychic Pamela saw my true form and was permanently blinded. In my defense, I did warn her, but she wouldn't listen and paid the consequences. I didn't try to contact him again until a while after, knowing that if I did, Dean and his brother would surely attack me before hearing what I had to say. I wasn't supposed to contact him on my own, but I suppose that's the first time I went against what I was told: the beginning of my rebellion.

I tried to talk to him again when he was alone in the motel. Attempting to do so in a room with mirrors on the ceiling was a bad idea on my part, but I had to know. Once again it failed, leaving Dean injured and more spooked than he already was.

By the time they tried to summon me, I had finally acquired a human vessel, so that I wouldn't blind Dean as I did Pamela and the demons the Winchesters had spoken to earlier. My grace still took out a few of the lights in the barn Dean and his friend and father figure, Bobby Singer, summoned me to. When I entered, they naturally did the first thing I expected them to do: attack with everything they had. I was shot, stabbed, and nearly hit across the head with a crowbar until I finally subdued Bobby and got Dean to calm down enough to talk to me.

My first up close look at the human made everything I had heard of him and what I had seen in his soul when I raised it finally click. On the exterior he was a rough sort of beautiful. Striking green eyes stood out against his well-tanned skin and light coffee-colored hair. He was muscled and rather tall, taller than my vessel at least. Through his eyes I got a glimpse of the soul I had rescued: strong, selfless, protective, and at the same time… scared, confused, and self-depreciating. He was the one who took care of his loved ones, expecting nothing in return. It was his job. I could finally see how special he was. I knew why he was picked for such a difficult role.

I told him I was an angel and that my name was Castiel; I was the one who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. At first he did not believe me; his faith was very weak. To assure him I was truthful, I gave him a glimpse of my wings. Very few humans have seen my wings, but I believe it was fitting for him to see them, especially with the bond we have now.

Of course he immediately blamed me for the blinding of the psychic Pamela, and I tried to explain how I had warned her. I also told him how he had heard my true voice. He wasn't too happy about that. I informed him of my vessel, yet he was still angered and doubted my motives for rescuing him. He didn't think he deserved to be saved. I finally told him what I was sent to tell: that God commanded he be raised, because we had work for him.