A/N: I took Cas' angel characteristics from both Supernatural and Doctor Who and mixed them into a holy elaborate cocktail, so it's easier to just explain. Basically Cas is an avenging/weeping angel who sends people back through time and space to punish them, instead of to feed off their time energy. He doesn't quantum lock, so he exists even when someone is not looking at him, but he also has the abilities of a Supernatural angel (e.g. becoming invisible at will, time & space travel, being able to search an entire city simultaneously, etc.). However if he touches something alive (plants, animals, people) with his bare skin, it's automatically sent back in time. If there's anything you'd like me to clarify, or any inconsistencies with his powers, I'll be happy to correct myself!
Sobbing, terrified, and with a ratted mess of hair, a middle aged woman stumbled down the deserted road, crying for help. She made fairly slow progress since she continually whipped her head back to look over her shoulder and see if it was following her. Gasping, she saw the abandoned barn just down the road and began staggering even more intently towards it; upon reaching it she flung the doors open and hastily shut them, not bothering to slide the thick wooden beam into place. In her bruised, bare feet she slipped and skittered over the hay strewn about the floor to the back corner of the barn, cowering as she crossed herself.
Castiel sighed. It was tiresome and annoying when they ran, and it just made that tablespoon more of work he had to do to smite them. He ambled after her (because no, angels of the lord did not hurry), and flicking his hand, flung open the barn doors.
He advanced with ever-increasing distance between the gaps of darkness until he was less than an arm-length away from the sniveling human begging for mercy. The overhead floodlights flashed on and off in rapid succession, creating showers of sparks and a stark contrast between the graffiti and the tin walls. Non-corporeal wings unfolded to cast an ominous shadow throughout the building and revealed the heavenly avenger as Castiel flicked his fingers against the woman's forehead. "Wretch," he growled.
The woman dissipated instantly, and Castiel withdrew his hand to rub the scowl of contempt from his face. Just another day's work of meting out heaven's judgment to the evil. He briefly imagined how miserable her life would be during the midst of the black plague in Europe and felt a brief flash of satisfaction. Though his superiors chose whom to 'smite,' he got to decide where they went—and it was usually somewhere most dismal indeed.
"What did that poor soul do this time, Cassie? You really pulled out all the stops to scare the wits out of her. Nice touch by the way, moving between the lights." An oddly cheery voice spoke from his left and the sweet, cloying smell of processed sugar filled the air.
Castiel turned his head and raised an eyebrow as Gabriel slurped on a candied stick. "Not so much a poor soul as a loathsome parent. She evicted her own child from her household for his choice of husband. I'm not entirely sure why; the young man of choice wasn't particularly objectionable. However it is a grievous sin to not provide for kin, and I do not object to her sentencing."
Gabriel blew out a silent sigh at his brother's oblivion of humanity's peculiarities and faults regarding sexuality. "Yeah, well, you look dapper as always m'boy," the archangel-slash-trickster continued, clapping the other angel on the shoulder.
Shrugging him off, Castiel narrowed his eyes, "I'm supposed to look terrifying, absolute. Not…dapper. I find intimidation to be the most effective precursor to character reformation in what little time they have left." He exaggeratedly straightened his trench coat and masked his features into the cold mask of holy terror as he prepared to make an abrupt departure. "Now if you will excuse me, I must take care of the father."
"Wait, Castiel." Gabriel caught his sleeve just before he disappeared. He gave his younger brother a bitter smile, making it clear what he was about to say came from Michael and/or Raphael and that he in no way agreed but wanted to give the message to him because he was much more pleasant about it. "You need to stop touching things, man. The other angels up on high have noticed the 20th century flowers and raccoons ending up in dinosaur salads. You're, uh, messing up the big plan which-I'm-not-really-sure-can-be-done-since-it's-just-the-big-picture-but the people in early time periods are noticing. It's a little worrying." Gabriel's face and tone were sympathetic, no joviality for once as he clutched the coat sleeve, needing the other angel to understand the severity of the situation.
Castiel's face fell; he had known it was too much to pray that his slip-ups would go unnoticed. How could he help it? Everything was so beautiful, and it was so hard not to touch anything at all. He'd tried to wear gloves after one incident where a father had asked him to hold a baby while he loaded groceries into a car—it was very difficult to finagle himself and the baby out of that—but it was terribly hindersome when he kept forgetting them after removing them for a job. Shoot him, so he liked to try and pick roses, or hug the wildlife. When he had a lapse in memory of the 'no touch rule,' the thing would be sent back to a random place in time, making it more than extremely difficult to track it down and bring it home. So Castiel sometimes cut a corner and didn't even bother if it was something tiny (raccoons) and not human (which is why he traveled to 1940s London and brought back the little gremlin child at all).
Slowly, he reached out a single finger and brushed it against the stick of Gabriel's lollipop, registering its disappearance and then reappearance sometime during the Roman Empire. His mouth twisted into a bitter grimace. "Of course, Gabriel. I will keep my hands to myself from now on." With that he disappeared in a swift flutter of wings to deposit a certain, naked father near a certain, no-longer dormant volcano called Vesuvius.