Just some thoughts on Castiel, my very favorite angel :) An introspective drabble. Thanks for reading!


It's ironic, really, that Castiel is known as "The Rebel", the "disobedient" one. The irony is, quite contrary to this, he's the only one of all the angels who really HAS obeyed. The last order that God ever gave the Host of angels was nothing more than to love and protect the humans.

To be fair, perhaps you can't love something just because you were told to. It has to come from the heart, but the only angel heart that really felt anything for these humans was, in fact, Castiel's. The difference is noticeable.

Castiel sits in the ethereal plane, watching the humans unseen. They are gathered around a fire, and he leans in to listen with rapt fascination in his eyes. Humanity is still young at this point, and these are only Neanderthals, but Castiel hopes they survive.

Their poetry, he realizes as he listens, is actually quite astounding for a people with a vocabulary of a few dozen syllables. In fact, it's beautiful.

"Castiel," a voice calls, and his comrade Uriel lands beside him with a rush of wings. "What are you doing?"

Castiel smiles slightly, happy to have someone else to share this with. "Listen," he answers simply. Uriel frowns and looks warily around with blade drawn.

"What?" he demands. "Can you hear attackers? How many?"

Castiel should have known better, should have known that Uriel would miss it completely. Uriel is amusing, but his only interest is fighting - he couldn't care less about the rising species' poetry, and he probably hasn't actually stopped to notice the Neanderthals around their fire at all. To him, this is just a mission.

"No," Castiel patiently answers, wanting his brother to see what he saw and hear what he heard. "Listen to them. They're sharing their poetry. Is it not beautiful?"

Uriel listens for maybe half a second, then shakes his head. "No," he frankly replies. "It sounds like grunting and ignorance. We should be going, Castiel. There's work to do." Because that is all this is: work.

But Castiel doesn't leave. He leans closer to hear them speak. It is true, their voices are guttural and unrefined, and they know little of the world but what is or is not safe to eat. But their words are filled with passion, and their emotions are raw and unmasked, as pure as anything Castiel has seen. They speak of the vastness of the stars and the awe it makes them feel, the feeling of rain on bare skin, the scent of moist earth and burning cedar. Little sensations that are made important and incredible, extraordinary magic created from the most ordinary of things. They are nothing but children, but Castiel finds it refreshing.

The angel listens to them a while longer, and he hopes they survive. In Uriel's defense, Castiel is certain that his comrade WILL protect these ignorant, helpless creatures, but it is only because he has been given instructions to do exactly that. He doesn't listen to their poetry, nor does he take any delight in their small accomplishments, such as the fire that the angel could have produced with merely a thought, but which these Neanderthals think is probably magic.

The truth is, Uriel doesn't give a damn about these things, and so he cannot love them as Castiel does.

Both follow their orders, but only Castiel has obeyed.


Castiel stands in the park and watches the children play. His heart is much lighter than it was at this time yesterday. Dean's decision to not let the town be destroyed has cost them a seal, yet all Castiel feels is relief that his desperate prayers have been answered. Seal or no seal, he wanted Dean to spare these people.

A single city is not worth much to the other angels, but as Castiel watches the laughing children enjoying their games, he has to wonder WHY these individual lives are worth so little.

Uriel is not pleased, and Castiel knows this - though he doesn't much care at the moment whether the other angels are pleased or not. Their orders were to follow Dean, the Righteous Man, but it rankles with Uriel because he considers angels far above humans. He protests that humans are dirty, backwards, flawed, hairless APES. But Castiel has seen the battlefields where angels tore their brothers and sisters apart in a civil war over the wounded pride of those in power, and he cannot fathom Uriel's logic. To him, that doesn't feel "superior" at all.

"So I, uh, failed your test, huh?" Dean Winchester demands. Castiel lets him rant, not interrupting as Dean finishes, "-but what I DO know is that this, here? These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it is still here because of my brother and me."

And that is precisely why Castiel is so happy, and why he is starting to feel more and more faith in this human. Dean Winchester is broken, scarred, mouthy, and antagonistic, but he knows the value of a human life and he's willing to defy Heaven itself for that - something Castiel isn't brave enough to do. In fact, Castiel feels a touch of envy, wishing he had Dean's courage - or perhaps it's just stubbornness, or maybe stupidity. Whatever it is, it's human, and it's stunning.

Both Uriel and Castiel have followed their orders to follow Dean's command, but Uriel does not believe in the human, and he has no interest in the humans they have saved. He has, once again, missed the point.

Between the two of them, only Castiel has obeyed.


"It's the archangel!" Castiel yells at Dean. "I'll hold him off! I'll hold them all off!"

Castiel is about to die; he has no delusions, and no regrets. In doing this, he is defying everything but his own conscience. In his heart, Castiel does not believe that the same God who commanded them to love these people would actually want half the planet to be killed in this prize fight, though he has been told that this is God's will. If it is, then God can come kill Castiel Himself, but of course there won't be anything left when Michael and Raphael are done with him. Castiel sends Dean away, before turning squarely to face the wrath coming his direction, knowing there will be no escape.

Beside him, the prophet Chuck suddenly looks at him and sets a hand on his shoulder. It's the simplest gesture imaginable, but Castiel is taken aback. He has no idea why he suddenly gets such an overwhelming sensation of approval from the prophet, as though Castiel has just surpassed his wildest expectations. The angel looks at him, and Chuck awkwardly removes his hand, but the feeling remains that Chuck is exceedingly proud of him. Castiel can't fully explain why this makes him as happy as it does - who is Chuck to him? - but it does give him a bit of peace.

But none of that matters now because Castiel is about to die.

Michael will not understand why Castiel has done this, because Michael believes the ends justify the means, that it is worth sacrificing a few million souls in order to save six billion. Michael would say that the overall good of defeating Lucifer will greatly outweigh any lives that are lost because of it.

Castiel understands the strategic value to this thinking, but he just can't justify this slaughter anymore. Besides, he knows as well as Michael does himself, though neither have ever or will ever say it out loud, that this fight is not to protect whatever remains of the Earth; it is to protect Michael's own pride and nothing more.

The truth is, Michael doesn't really care about these humans, and he certainly doesn't love them. He's just following orders.

Only Castiel has fought for the humans.

Only Castiel actually obeyed.


It's not just in the grand, noble sacrifices he's made for Humanity. It's in the little things. It's in the minute, seemingly insignificant details. It's in things he says and does so small that they get overlooked completely, but which prove that Castiel is the only angel who really cares enough to pay attention.

He visits Dean in a dream once, and the first thing he notices is the peace, the serenity. It would have been easy to imagine that Dean would dream of sex and iniquity, but he can have that when he's awake. Humans, Castiel has noticed, don't dream of what they have. Their most closely guarded dreams are always their most desperate desires that will always be just out of reach. Dean will never have this serenity, a quiet moment to just sit in the sunlight and fish. The human is even smiling. This idyllic escape is his dream, and Castiel recognizes that this means something.

It's not just what it's always been to angels: a method for them to come trampling in and speak to humans, not even taking note of what they're trampling over.

Suddenly, Castiel doesn't want to shatter this moment for Dean... Unlike the other angels, he's bothered to pay attention. It's not that the others couldn't figure this out; it's just that it doesn't really matter to them. But it matters to Castiel.

Castiel sees more, and though he tries, even he doesn't understand the humans and how to interact with them sometimes.

"Oh," he quickly says, standing by the car with Sam. He sees from Sam's face that he's said something wrong as they say goodbye - probably for the last time. "I was supposed to lie. Uh... sure. They'll be fine."

They won't be, of course, but Sam needs reassurance. Of course, Sam tells him to stop talking and Castiel knows that his lie wasn't remotely convincing, but he hasn't had much practice with this. It's not in an angel's nature to give false comfort. But Castiel cares enough to do this their way, for their sake. Any other angel would have told Sam the truth: they are going to certain death and his brother will most likely be killed by Sam's own hand, through Lucifer. But Castiel isn't any other angel, and he makes a heartfelt, albeit unsuccessful, attempt to give Sam hope.

It's in these little details. Castiel doesn't always get it, but he loves the humans enough to try, and that's more than the other angels can say.

It's true that the Winchesters are his favorites, his charges, but Castiel's love for humanity goes beyond just them. It's obvious in the small things that he's loved the humans all along.

He is sitting in a diner when the waitress offers him coffee, assuring him that it's not bad.

"You know, I remember when you first discovered it," Castiel tells her, somewhat absently but with a tone of admiration and affection. "Before you started brewing it, you'd just chew the berries. Folk tale is true, by the way. You learned it from the goats."

It's in that one, simple, easily overlooked statement.

Why did he even know that? You see, it's in these little things that Castiel proves just how different he is from the other angels. They could describe the coffee plant, they knew it came from the family Rubiaceae, could name all the various species of coffee plant - but they neither know nor care how or when humans had discovered it. They wouldn't have even known there was a folk tale about it to begin with, but Castiel does. These were insignificant details that only Castiel took the time to notice and remember. He remembers it, because he was paying attention. He was paying attention, because he cares.

It isn't even that the other angels don't like the humans: it's just that these humans are merely orders to them, and they felt nothing.

It's ironic, in the end. Castiel, for all his faults and all the times he's screwed up on a tragically cosmic scale, is still the only angel who ever really got it; the only one who fought for the humans for their sake, not just to blindly carry out orders.

Maybe it's not fair; you can't really love something just because you were ordered to. The other angels don't love humans, because they can't - humanity is a burden, a task, a mission, an order. They don't see the little things or pay attention to their poetry, their dreams. They wouldn't defy Heaven for the humans, because they're good soldiers, just following orders, but not sticking their necks out for the "mud monkeys".

Only Castiel has embraced this purpose they were given. Only he has gone above and beyond. Only he has followed the spirit of the law, and not just the letter.

It's ironic, because Castiel is known as the rebel, the dissident, the disobedient renegade... and yet, though many have followed orders, Castiel alone has obeyed the only command that truly mattered.