Righteous Rebellion
When the Righteous Man was rescued from Hell, that fact echoed across Heaven for weeks. Angels whispered to each other, He is saved. The Righteous Man has been saved. Father's plan will be put in motion. Slowly, that turned to the repeated phrase: Dean Winchester is saved. No one mentioned the saviour of the Righteous Man, the warrior angel, the seraph, with anomalic wings sapphire-black and eyes of impossible blue. Castiel, Angel of the Lord was never mentioned where he should have been, because he would play the largest part in Father's supposed plan. Yet he was never mentioned, never made his way into the fascinated whispers of the angels.
Without Castiel, the Righteous Man Always the Righteous Man, never Dean would never have had the strength to play his part in the apocalypse. Hell shattered him so thoroughly, but Castiel was the one to patch him together, piece by bloody, tortured piece. When the apocalypse never happened, the name of Castiel echoed across Heaven. Castiel, they whispered. Castiel. The angel who rebelled, the angel who stood against Father's word. He fell, he fell and he betrayed Heaven. And slowly, those whispers turned to the repetition of his name. Castiel… Castiel… Castiel… And those jumbled whispers would one day reach the ears of the rebellious angel.
They saved each other. The Righteous Man and the rebellious angel. They saved each other every day, saved each other and became each other's faith when there was nothing left to place it in. They betrayed each other, cast each other away, left, fought, hated, burned, argued, and comforted, but hidden beneath the surface of tumultuous rage and hatred and betrayal, they never lost faith in one another. The Righteous Man Long left the whispers, but still the Righteous Man, always the Righteous Man, never Dean, never really taught Castiel the meaning of Free Will What a strange concept, to think for oneself, to leave the warm protection of Father and that lead to perceived betrayal on both parts.
They went back to each other. They always went back to each other. For comfort, for help, for protection, for knowledge, because they fucked things up for the millionth, the billionth time, They messed everything up so often, ruined plan after plan, brought pain and ruin upon themselves and brought the world to near-destruction and chaos no matter what they went back to each other. No matter the distance, no matter the state, no matter whether they were angel, fallen angel, human, or demon, they always went back to each other.
And someday, in the far future, they would stop stubbornly denying the reason they did what they did And goodness they were stubborn, so stubborn, refusing to see what was right before them and they would wake up to reality Hardly possible, but somehow they did it, because that was what they did, the impossible, always the impossible and see the true reason they always went back to each other, they would see what truly drove their actions.
Yes, someday, far in the future, when they got past their stubbornness, got past their blindness, they would see Finally see, even though it took years, years and decades, so long to see that what drove their actions, what drove everything when it came to each other was love. They were in love with each other, Castiel and Dean, Finally, finally Dean, not Righteous Man, Dean angel and hunter, truly bound together by the red strings of fate, fated to meet, fated to fall, fated to love, Always fated, always, because every angel has a purpose and that was Castiel's, to meet and fall and love a hunter with eyes of emerald green always fated by Father. And in this future, In every future, all the futures, no matter what reality, every reality the angels would whisper yet again, whisper and gossip and tell and retell the love story of the Righteous Man, Dean and the rebellious Angel of the Lord, Castiel. Because that was what it was, a love story, fit to be told in the human world, fit to be the kind of story that was passed from generation to generation, living on through centuries But not exactly, always twisting and morphing and shaping and changing until the true story was lost long ago, lost to the ages and time, lost simply to Heaven and its angels and never dying out. And that was what they became, reality, a legend, a tale, a myth, and a truth. And those who got to witness this tale in person got to witness the incredible blossoming of- No, too sappy, too romantic, doesn't fit them, never could because they were harsh, harsh and worn and rough around the edges And those who got to witness this tale in person got to watch a seraph, an Angel of the Lord, pass from angel to fallen to human, over and over and over again, but still raise his head with infinite strength because of strength given to him by his hunter.
Their love story was imperfect, painful, harsh, and impossible But really, that was them, and they made it perfect and simple and soft and possible but they endured, they lasted, and honestly, that it was imperfect and painful and harsh and impossible made it all the more real. And if that doesn't make a good love story, then I don't know what does.
~original excerpt from Carver Edlund's (Chuck Shurley) final book in his famous series, Supernatural, with side notes and comments from the author