There are days when the confines of Castiel's human body become too much, when the anger, confusion and pain of humanity overwhelm him. There are days when the prayers for peace, for relief, for an end to the pain start a war inside him that he isn't sure he can continue to fight. His angel side screams at him, You could have ended this, you could have given them all peace! His human side, in Dean's cruel voice, snaps, No one cares that you're broken, Cas! Fix your mistakes! And the bad side, in a voice like black ooze dripping off the walls, hisses, You're wasting a perfectly good opportunity to subjugate the weak. You could become God again so easily and 'fix' all their little problems.
Castiel can't bear it, so he spreads his wings and flies away.
There's one place left that he can still go to, where his three sides can safely wage their war and Castiel can find some measure of peace. It's thousands of miles above the earth, in the dead silence and darkness of space. The earth spins on below him, Castiel letting himself fall into its orbit like the many satellites around him. He takes the silence in, lets it drown the war inside him. He tries not to think, even though his thoughts eventually wander.
It wasn't always quiet here; not long ago, it was filled with the hum of Castiel's garrison as they watched Earth spin on. Sometimes Castiel can still hear them up here, the voices of the long dead: Uriel griping about the latest war humanity found itself in; Anna whispering to him wonderingly, "Do you ever wonder what it feels like to touch?" Castiel laughs when he remembers the day they were all rendered silent, watching a space ship leave the grasp of the earth and head out for the stars. "Are they allowed to do that?" Hestor had asked, while Castiel had thought, What does it all mean, Father?
He asked Dean about that once, though Dean hadn't really answered him. Instead, Dean had made him shape his fingers into a 'V' and say the line, "Live long and prosper." Castiel still doesn't understand why Dean found it so funny when he did as asked. But Dean had left him with a quote that Castiel still ponders over, "To boldly go where no man has gone before."
Sometimes Castiel wishes he could have shared that line with Uriel and the others — that he had the chance to share it with those that followed him instead of Raphael. What had he wanted for his brethren, but for them to boldly go where no angel had gone before, like their Father wanted?
Castiel has to push aside the rush of painful memories — he never knew loss until he met humans, the angel side of him thinks — and then spreads out his form as far as it can go. He stretches and stretches until he can't reach out anymore without breaking apart, and then lets himself drift. He floats in the silence, lost in the movement of the universe eternal, never having needed the angels.
There he stays, the last of the angels, the only evidence that they ever existed.
Perhaps here is where he truly belongs, Castiel thinks.
It isn't long before the silence is broken, by the smallest of voices.
God, today was a tough day, he says, probably not realizing he's praying. I wish the days weren't so hard.
Castiel is pulled into the rabbit hole of his thoughts: the fear he felt when he walked down the path to school; the memories of a dark creature that lurked there and dragged him into the darkness. The fear he felt when he looked at fire, how it brought back the screams of that same creature dying. With it, came the thought, I wish I could burn everything.
But those memories and feelings fade when the man steps inside his house. There's relief when the woman there seems to sense something is wrong and pulls him into a hug; his sister, Castiel realizes. From her, Castiel can see her memories of the event: the dark creature who had taken her brother, the desperation to get him back. And then, to his surprise, Castiel can see Dean and Sam in her memories, young and vibrant, souls shining like small novas. The two dive into that darkness without fear—and it's absurd that Castiel grows worried when this is a memory. But he can't help his relief when Dean and Sam emerge from the darkness victorious, the woman's brother safe and saved.
God, she thinks, not realizing she was praying. Dean, Sam, thank you for saving my brother so I can do this every day.
Like floodgates, more prayers come in. One comes from a young woman looking over a portrait. She is gripped tight by fear, of memories of a ghost girl trying to kill her. But then she smiles, the memories soothed as she thinks, Sam, wherever you are, hope you're doing well.
Then there is a young man, dabbing grays and blacks of his portrait of a lake. The radio shifts to a song, and the man looks over. His memories of dark water and the boy that lived below it fade for an image of Dean laughing. Zeppelin rules, he thinks, and then sets down his paints to head outside, where his mother waits.
There are many more, hundreds of thoughts and prayers for Dean and Sam, all of them fond and kind. Castiel is inundated with memories and well wishes, all for the two men he calls family.
Then, there is silence, followed by the soft song of a woman. She's holding her baby close, wiggling her fingers in her air and singing a lullaby. As the baby squeals with laughter, the woman quiets down with a happy sigh. Her eyes lift toward the sky, as if she knows Castiel is up there, listening in.
I might have dreamed the entire thing, the woman thinks, and she cradles her child close. But whoever you are, thank you.
Castiel starts, sensation like a punch to his human body's gut. His body condenses and for a moment, he is nothing but a blinking satellite in a backdrop of stars. He replays that word over and over in his mind as he drifts away from the earth.
Thank you.
Castiel doesn't know why those words hurt like they do. If Castiel was in his human form, he knows he would be crying.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
The war inside him goes silent as well, lost in the feeling as well.
Is all the pain worth it? his angel side asks.
They're still weak, the bad part hisses.
They're worth it, Dean says.
If he was in his human form, Cas knows he would be smiling.
He doesn't know how long he stays there, holding onto that thank you. Long enough for the war inside him to fade, forgotten. Long enough for the Earth's gravitation pull to draw him back in. Long enough to watch the sun rise over the blue planet.
Cas, hey.
Castiel inclines himself in the direction of the prayer. It's Dean, the real Dean. It's a simple greeting, but a loaded one, made mostly of pain and regret and aching loss. But it shifts then, Dean smiling. Memories of Cas interrogating cats and going through Dean's bag and the way Cas smiles in his human form fill Dean's mind.
Front seat's still yours, Buddy.
Castiel knows he smiling as he spreads his wings again, and dives for Earth once more.