Authors Note: So my muse has been a little…not really sure still. But since it's been taking cracks at humor then I know something's wrong since I can't write humor worth a damn, lol. But anyways, this idea popped into my head and after writing it down (and saving it in a file with about 20+ ideas already in it waiting to be written) I decided the hell with it and to just write the damn thing. I thought about giving this idea to someone else, and I actually did post it on LJ since I clearly have way too many ideas currently in the works, but I am far too attached to my prompts so I figured, nah. Best do it myself. So…yeah. Enjoy.
Written: 11 May
Soundtrack: Behind Blue Eyes by Limp Bizkit
Word Count: 1100+
Beta: None
Category: Castiel
Content: NO SLASH. (God knows I read it though…and now apparently write it.)
Disclaimer: Obviously, I do not possess any legal rights to anything to do with this series especially its characters. I'm sure we are all aware of that but this fact must always be noted due to this websites guidelines.
Genres: Angst, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel
Rating: T
ooo
Title: He's Still Family
Author: anonymous-unknown
Summary: One-Shot. As an angel, Castiel was able to take in all the memories of Sam's time spent in Hell as well as all his own torturous actions. As a human however, he'll find that the feat to do so is damn well impossible. Not without help.
xxx
"The love of a family is life's greatest blessing."
Unknown
ooo
It was over. It was all over. Dean kept telling himself that. It was all over, like a stubborn mantra burned deep into the depths of his skull. Dean never did believe it though, not for a second, for something bad always did come out of all of it.
The Leviathans were gone now. Bobby was at peace now. Castiel was human now.
It had all happened so quickly, like the entire year hadn't even happened. But Dean could still feel it; the weariness, the exhaustion, the need to scream or drink or slip into oblivion. But he couldn't. Not yet. Because Castiel had already done so. The angel was currently unconscious, sleeping stark white and still on the bed of the cabins main room, looking almost asleep, though far from peaceful it would seem. He wasn't thrashing, or moaning, or making sounds of any kind. He was merely laying there, still, and the pain lines around his eyes told Dean that something bad was bound to come. It always played in the back of his mind, what if, and it was now the moment for him to know. Castiel said that he'd be fine, he was an angel, but as a human, would he truly be alright?
Dean didn't know, and wasn't sure he wanted to know.
The memories of Sam's Hell had been a train wreck, a burden on his brain that along with his own plagues turned him practically into a shelled version of his former self. He tried to cover it with tricks and meaningless acts, but Dean knew better. Castiel was broken, and he feared that he may have very well been beyond repair now. Dean didn't want to think about it, but he knew better. Castiel had been an angel when he had taken them. As a human…could one actually take on such a burden?
Dean tried to roll his shoulders, the muscles stiff and aching under the weight of all the stress. He didn't know what to do, what to say, who to say it to or even if it was worth it, but still he had to say something. He remained in the chair beside the bed, watching as the angel slept, and couldn't help but smile slightly, as fake as it was at the thought of the roles reversing. It seemed like such a lifetime ago when Castiel had been the watcher, Dean the sleeper, and the world was so much simpler.
Whatever happened to that?
Dean wanted to say something, pray it really, but the words failed to leave his tongue and he was left with nothing but to wait. Sam had seen him, wondered himself just what Dean was thinking, but dared not say a word as he watched over the now wholly fallen angel. Sam knew he was suffering, not that Dean would show it or say it, but he knew. He could hide himself under all the booze and anger he wanted. Dean didn't want this. No matter how angry he still was, he didn't want this. They had already lost him so many times. Why do all of this just to have it end? Sam didn't know. He thought that Dean didn't either.
Sam walked away, made a desperate act, and chose to take a chance. For once after all the showings of it doing, meaning absolutely nothing, Sam took a chance. Sam now relied solely, on faith.
…
He wouldn't even tell his brother, but Dean found out soon enough as angel upon angel descended upon the cabin. There were many left and right, on the floor and even outside on the grounds, but still Dean didn't know exactly how many there were. He didn't even want to guess why they were there. Not until Sam walked into the room, seeing his brother slowly rise from the chair in a defensive stance and looking almost hesitant did he finally explain. Sam practically stood out from them all, as if their combined lights glowed softly through him as all eyes fell on him. All it took was a few simple words, and Dean was left almost falling apart. All the emotions he had been bottling, all his frustrations and all his hurts were suddenly lifting, and all it took was this one mercy. Four simple words, that could finally end it all for good.
They're here to help.
…
Dean had never seen such pain, such immortal agony, such suffering, all in one human being. Dean watched as the first screams raged, the strangled cries that followed, and the acts that each angel took to assure the survival of their fallen brethren. Through each stage they stood, there at his side as he was carried through each level, each form of torture and every memory of anguish that he had ever endured. It was painful, so hard in fact that many felt it draining on their grace to continue, but where one could falter one more took over and continued on for them. Each one took their turns, waved their trail, cut through the path and assured his freedom, just so he could walk past it all. Castiel would survive, and this they had assured.
Dean had never seen such dedication, such love, such proof of ties to family as he'd ever seen now. They were there for him, literally at every step, and not once did they turn back and say no. Each one took their turn, each one took his plight, each one fought for him. If Dean could ever recall such a moving moment, none currently came to mind. When all was said and done Castiel was quiet; exhausted at each end and unable to do more than breathe, the pain he had suffered clear across his features. The last angel stood up, a near shaking hand on her knee, and bid her brother farewell with a gentle kiss to his forehead and a brush of fingers to his cheek. A small prayer was given, a silent assurance of their watchful eye and protection, and sounds of feathers and wings began to fill the room slowly, almost tired.
Dean had never seen them look so torn, so saddened, so much in pain for a loss of one their own as each one bid farewell. To say goodbye, to shed their tears, knowing that they might never see him again. He was their brother, still was, and that did not change in light of the fact that he was fallen. That he was human. That he would live on a mortal.
Dean would forever recall their words when he asked their reasoning. One angel, stepping forth, and answering for all of them.
He's still family.
THE END…I think
Authors End Note: You know the next step. Please and thanks.