I couldn't leave it as it was. After Dean's POV came to me so easily, Castiel's head was a little harder to get into, but I think I've managed it.
Disclaimer: I checked, they still don't belong to me. I'm only borrowing them and as soon as I'm done I'm giving them back. This does not mean that I want to.
Many Things.
In all of his existence, Castiel has been certain of a great many things. He has never doubted, never once had a cause to, he had always been secure in the knowledge that he was an Angel of the Lord. Even when his sister chose to fall to the Earth and hide herself among the humans, Castiel never once allowed himself to doubt. He was an angel, perfect, cold, detached. Utterly loyal to his Father, to his brothers, obedient and unquestioning.
So when the order came to descend into the very depths of Perdition to rescue Dean Winchester, Castiel obeyed without thought. He journeyed through the horrors of the Pit, heard the screams and cries of the Damned and did not once flinch, did not turn his head away from his mission, his mission to save Dean Winchester. He succeeded, thought he had succeeded, Castiel had gripped Dean tight, raised him up high and brought him into the light. It was another thing that he could add onto his list of certainties. Dean Winchester had been saved. Still, Castiel was certain, he did not doubt.
In all his existence, Castiel had been certain of a great many things. The thing was, those things that he had always been certain of had begun to become less so. Castiel had met Dean, and with that meeting the doors to such things he had never thought he could experience had been opened. All around him things were changing, the things that he had relied on were becoming less and less reliable and the more he interacted with Dean, the more he realised something. Dean had not been saved, part of Dean still languished in Hell, he still doubted and sinned and all but refused to pray.
Despite his obvious flaws and doubts and the infuriating inability to follow a simple order or acquiesce to a request, the angel was drawn to the human, wanted to know more of him. So he watched, silent, aloof, emotionless and cold and he listened as Dean muttered in his sleep. It did not help him understand the man any better, but the more he watched the more he felt something stir in him, something deep and pure, dark and forbidden and so much more tempting than anything he had ever known. Still he watched.
In all his existence, Castiel had always been certain. Never doubted, so when his superiors told him that he was getting too close to the humans in his care, Castiel had not been surprised when his first, childlike, doubt had coiled into something else. Into fear, and still he could not stay away from Dean, could not resist the pull that the man's powerful emotions had on him, the way that such powerful thoughts and feelings awakened something in him that both terrified and thrilled him in ways that he had never known. Through that he learnt, learnt that Dean had one enemy greater than anything he faced, greater than Lillith, greater than even Lucifer, his greatest enemy was himself and Castiel resolved to try and save him from that, to try and protect him where all other attempts had failed and yet, in his certain and deep knowledge that Dean needed saving, he could not say why he felt such a thing.
He was not there when Dean first cried out to the heavens for sleep, when he first called out in his need and pain and fear, Castiel had been elsewhere, learning. Learning what it was that humans desired, what made them laugh and cry and sing and regret. He did not hear Dean's cries for help until the feel of his screams ripped through the angel and brought the flash of an emotion so new and raw that it all but crippled him. Regret. Regret, of all things and he knew that he had never wanted to feel such a thing in relation to Dean. So he had gone to him, gone to his side and held him, comforted him and felt something stir within him, that same pure and dark, deep and forbidden feeling that made him feel at once like he had returned to heaven and all the glory and light of it, but at the same time burnt at him in the same way that the fires of Damnation had eaten away at his soul. It thrilled him to feel it, thrilled him to feel the way that Dean's fingers clung to him as he begged for the dreams to stop and it was all too much, this compassion, this unknown feeling the gnaws at his gut and eats away at his heart. So he took Dean to bed and sent him to sleep and walked in his dreams.
Castiel has been certain of so many things, one of those most recently is that he should not walk in Dean's dreams the way he does and he most certainly should not be taking part in them. But he does and as time goes on he enjoys it, fears that Dean will remember and confront him, but finds that he cannot care. Because there is that feeling, of hands and skin, breathless moans and cries and names whispered with the reverence of prayers that Dean would never say.
In all of his existence Castiel has been certain of a great number of things. While some of those facts have fallen into shadow and darkness, and doubt has begun nibble at his soul, Castiel remains sure of much of what he knows. If he feels doubt, it is because he has been influenced by another, a human well worth being influenced by and Castiel knows that no matter what happens, no matter the results of his uncertainties, he would never wish anything to change, never wish anything any different than it is. Because now, now, he feels and he understands and even if nothing ever comes of it, Castiel is certain that he has gained an experience that differentiates him from his brothers and sisters. This is why he is certain that they will find a way to win. Because they have Dean Winchester and no matter what Castiel may think or feel or doubt, he has faith in Dean, and he thinks it may be because he is in love with the out spoken, sin filled and tainted hunter.
This certain thing sticks out in his mind above all else. Castiel has faith in, believes he is in love with, Dean and that scares him, more than the thought of falling or the end of existence as he has known it, he is scared of that love.
Reviews really are little Castiel's flying around our heads and mini Dean's under the bed.
Artemis