New Story. I have to say, I have not seen season 7 yet, but have been told that my favourite angel dies, so this is why I am writing it. If he comes back, yay.
Until then... I give you Vitam Novam (New Life)

I do not own Supernatural or any of the people in it, only my timeline and OC
If I did, it might be very different.

Wash me clean from all of my sins and guilt. I know about my sins and I can't forget my terrible guilt. You are really the one I have sinned against; I have disobeyed you and have done wrong. So it is right and fair for you to correct and punish me.
Psalm 51: 1 – 4

A sign.
A sign to ensure that he was doing the right thing.
That was all Castiel wanted.

But God works in mysterious ways, Castiel knew that, only he wasn't expecting it to end like this.

The leviathans; he could feel them control him, shredding bits of him away at a time. He was screaming, begging but he knew there was no one to hear him.

Why would they even listen? It was only now that Castiel realised his mistake, realised that he had betrayed everyone who ever meant anything to him. But what was he meant to do… watch as the world burnt? As his brothers and sister, his friends perished under the strain of war?

He thought he had been doing the right thing, at the time, he knew what he was doing. He had it under control but it never was that easy. Why didn't Castiel see that earlier? Now here he was, controlled by creatures possibly older than time itself from Purgatory, trapped within his own darkness and he could do absolutely nothing about it.

The pain was unbearable, to the point where Castiel was sure he could feel nothing at all.
Blood was everywhere, dripping down his hands and face. There was nothing left of him, there was hardly anything left of his celestial being.
He was too weak to fight anymore, no more will to even snarl back.

It was over, more sudden than he had thought possible.
Was he dead? This was it?
The grass beneath his knees was wet, soaking through the fabric of his clean and intact. Clean hands were in front of him, supporting his body that felt as though he had just woken from a deep sleep. Blurry blue eyes stared up at the sky, cloudy and bright enough to force him to squint.

His elbows ached and his head pounded as Castiel tried to stand up on his feet.
Too weak... too human.
Staggering, he grabbed the nearest thing, the fabric rough under his hands.

'Castiel…'
Surprised, Castiel drew in a sharp breath as pain sprouted in his stomach, slicing down his back. He gripped the man's shoulder, trying to hold himself uptight. The air around him was cold… so cold and heavy, it was difficult to fill his lungs enough to clear the spots from his eyes and ringing in his ears.
'What have you done?'

There was true sorrow in those words, enough for Castiel to recognise the being before him. Staring up, Castiel felt a tear slip from his eye, sliding down his cheek as the man before him smiled ever so gently.
'Forgive me, brother.'

Forgive him? It should be Castiel pleading for forgiveness. Before he could stand on his own, pain screamed down his back, around his shoulder blades, digging in deep. Flinging his head back, Castiel felt his throat open as a roar tore through him.

The pain he was feeling, on his back and in his heart was becoming unbearable. He just wanted it to end, he just wanted to retreat to his own piece of the world he had loved, still loved.
Only, did that world still love him? Did the people he loved still care for him?

Everything was slipping away, too fast for Castiel to catch something and hold himself steady. Hands were holding his tightly, his face smothered in a familiar scent but yet he did not know it. He was losing everything but at least he knew it was no longer at the claws of the Leviathans.

Air had left him and Castiel saw the blue sky turn black, the pale face looking down at him crying.
Silent, broken and bleeding, cold and empty.

Castiel was falling.
He could feel the air rush around him as he extended a hand, wanting the man to catch him but he turned away.
It was then Castiel really lost everything.
He just knew it.

It was burning, raging around him as he closed his eyes to the horror. He tried to cling onto his memories, to Balthazar and Dean, but in his eyes they hated him; he had hurt them to the point that asking for forgiveness would never be enough.

Voices were echoing in his mind; English and enochian, screams and whispers, words of hate and comfort, warnings and thanks.

Abruptly, everything stopped.
He wasn't falling anymore.
Castiel was calm.

There was no fear, no pain… no thought.
Only a distant feeling that he knew there was a greater purpose to his being. A grand story and he wasn't the only character. Two men… brothers, an old drunk and a fallen angel.
How did it end? With the fallen angel dying and the brothers torn apart by betrayal?

Castiel was losing everything now, taciturn and hollow, there was nothing left.
Was this his sign? God punishing him by death? He knew he deserved it, had been unsure in his choices and his faith, he just had not been expecting this.

If he could only hang on, if he could only do what he must, to redeem himself.

Please let me know what you think.
I may re-write this, I could give more detail, put more into it. Let me know.

Silver-Kirin
xXx