Hello again! Here is the chapter from the POV of the all-important Jimmy Novak. Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.


If only…

If only Castiel would come back to me. It's hell, being here alone.

Am I lonely here?

Hell, I don't know.

God is a whacked up dude, I must say. No offense to him, but maybe he could've made his children a little less fiery and crazy and a little bit less like a blazing comet.

Just saying.

Like I've always said, it all began with a prayer.

I prayed for guidance; for answers. He came to me in different ways. He said his name was Castiel and that he was the answers. He said that he was an angel. He had me prove my faith to him.

So I stuck my arm in scorching hot water.

And I came out unscathed. Thank you, faith.

He came to me a little while afterwards. It was the night that my wife and I had a fight about me going to get myself help. So I put on my trench coat and went outside.

So Castiel came to me.

From then on, it was a year of a million roller coaster rides per second. Imagine the rush you feel as you fly down a hill on the fastest bike in the world, or pulling 190 mph in an open-air car. Multiply that by about ten million. And then multiply that by infinity to the tenth power.

That's not even near what it's like to be inhabited by an angel. Lucky me.

I don't know how the other poor bastards are handling it. Possession, or inhabitation, or whatever the hell the angels call it when they jump into our skin.

And then the ride began.

Exorcisms. They were easy as hell. All Castiel had to do was reach my arm out and plunk my good ol' hand down on any old demon's head. And then I would feel this rush, this power, and for a moment I would feel like an angel myself. But then the moment would fade, and I would draw back into the corner of my mind, waiting until something happened that was important enough to push Castiel aside for.

Flying had its perks. It was like one moment I was standing (or sitting, or lying down) and the next moment, there were these giant wings that exploded from my back. And then I was flying in a matter of milliseconds. Nanoseconds, even. That didn't do anything for my ego, though. I mean, shouldn't angels consider the fact that the human they're riding around in might get a few delusions of grandeur by being an all-powerful angel of God?

However, there were a couple bad things about being an angel's vessel. There was the matter of the battles. I killed more things as a son-of-God-angel than I ever did as a flawed God-respecting human being. Now how messed up is that?

I lost count of how many angels I killed as Castiel's vessel.

I do know, however, that every single life that I took was like a stab to my own heart. Each blow that landed on an opposing angel landed on Castiel's Grace, which of course wounded me.

And then there were the times when I was killed.

I found it comical after enough time. I truthfully would have gone crazy as a vessel if not for the all-too-constant interruptions of death.

Since the moment that I'd met Dean Winchester, I had been in mortal peril. The guy had stabbed me in the heart with a demon-killing knife!

No problem for me, though. Gotta love that angel mojo.

There was that time when Chuck's archangel blew me up. Even I thought to myself, having been with Castiel for so long, Thanks, brother.

Of course, I bounced right back.

Oh! And then that time when Lucifer snapped his fingers and blew me to smithereens! Yeah, brotherly love at its finest.

Look at me. I'm talking about family matters with angels like I'm Castiel! The thing is, I wish I was just like an angel. I wish I was Castiel.

To tell the truth, I think I am now.

Just another extension of an angelic being.

And finally, there was Castiel's final mistake. His pride- our pride- brought both of us down. He took all the souls of Purgatory into my body to become the new God. And his choice took its toll.

I felt the power of the souls burning me up from the inside out. It stretched my flesh to its fullest extent. It burnt its way through my skin and my organs; it pushed me aside, even farther behind into my mind than I had been with just Castiel.

I felt Castiel faltering and losing control. He slowly weakened, letting those souls of the monsters take over. And then a group came to the forefront of my body.

Leviathan.

It was hell when they took the spotlight. And then they tore apart my body, making it drip black goo that made me want to vomit, if I could. Then they took me away from Sam and Dean and Bobby, who had become my friends.

They drowned me in the public water supply.

Where is Castiel now?

Who knows?

I'm just the vessel.


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