Urgh, you have no idea how hard it is to get into Godstiel's head. I think I've managed it, possibly. I wrote the majority of this in a dark room at work, but I think it's alright to go. It's a bit shorter because I found him that difficult.

Castiel is well aware that he should not have let the Winchesters and their surrogate father out of his sight. He is even more aware that he should not have been the one to facilitate it, just as he should not have given them their lives. Sam tried to kill him, Dean lost all faith and trust in him. The Winchesters are tenacious, the fact that they successfully defeated Michael and Lucifer can attest to that, and Castiel knows that if they decide he is the enemy they will do everything that is in their limited power to stop him.

He is a god, he cannot be stopped and he cannot be killed.

He can love, though, love all things well and equally as a god should. There is one exception to that ideal, however, and in that Castiel is hopelessly lost and terribly blinkered. Dean Winchester is the human man Castiel loves above all other things, Dean is the one thing that Castiel would sacrifice plans for, the one thing that he thought about in all of his attempts to stop Raphael. He is the reason that so many plans were reject, abandoned or changed, and he is the reason that this plan, of all of them, was the one that absolutely had to succeed. Dean is the only one who can strike at Castiel's guarded heart and everything that Castiel does is done for Dean.

The newly created deity cannot comprehend why Dean does not understand that. Nor can he understand why, when Dean was so angry about his grace being bound by Eve, the hunter is so adamant that Castiel should not have more power, that he should deny the deity the opportunity to avoid any circumstance where he is the weaker in a situation.

Castiel already knows that Dean loves him, the true and deep kind of love that humans write and fantasise about. Castiel knows this because nothing else could have broken a curse laid upon him by an ancient and capricious god. A god Balthazar succeeded in identify but whom Castiel did not get the chance to approach and deal with. Until now.

Now would be the perfect time, he reasons, while he gives Dean time to adjust and accept Castiel as he is now. The hunter has never been good at dealing with change, after all. He is not interested in simply slaughtering Veles, an ancient trickster god of the Slavic nations, however. He also wants to understand. He wants to know why the ancient being was so interested in stopping Castiel, he wants to know how the creature found out in the first place. Moreover, he wants to find out who helped Veles achieve his goal since there are no ancient gods left in the world with the kind of power they would need to bind an angel's grace.

He will use this to give Dean the time to adjust to this change, to allow the human to come to him willingly. Besides, if he does not Castiel will eventually have to force the issue and that is something that will cause them both pain. It is not the preferable route.

He concentrates his mind, taking himself to the glade that he first met Veles in so that he can try to get a feel for the god. Now that he has this kind of power Castiel is certain that it will help him to find that pagan deity who has evaded the searches of former brethren for too long. Sunlight filters through the trees, bathing him in a mottle of light and shadows. A light breeze carries the scent of fresh water, wildflowers and grass to fill his nostrils. Under all that, however, there is something else. A feeling of old blood and primal magic. An overall sensation of wrong that rolls across Castiel and calls to something deep inside the power of the souls he has absorbed. It is clear that at least one pagan has been here, although there is a strange duality to the sensations and he wonders if a second god has been here recently, all that remains is to follow the trail that the presence has left.

"I see you went and did it, then," the cracked voice comes from behind him. Castiel does not turn to look at Veles, does not move to indicate that he has heard him at all. "Has it given you everything that you wanted, Castiel?"

"The war is ended, and I have a great deal of work to do. Your kind no longer fit with my plans for this earth," the deity informs him, staring at the figure who is so stooped he appears to almost be bent double. "I require some answers from you, nothing more."

"So you are not your Father?" Veles mocks. "I hear you claim to have replaced Him and yet your power still doesn't equal His. I have tried to teach so many and I still don't understand why you refuse to learn."

Castiel gestures and the old creature is knocked to the floor with the weight of everything that the deity has pressing down on it. Anger flows through Castiel, a need to lash out and destroy this impertinent creature which is hard to ignore. He has learnt all that he needs to know about his chosen path. He has seen who his friends and who his enemies are and he is aware that at this precise moment he is completely alone. He has no need of companions to stand at his side, however, because he is now a god.

"Who told you what I was planning?" He demands, pressing down against the god on the ground. Veles wheezes up at him, lips parted in a pained grin.

"If I tell you he'll kill me," he points out. "I'm not foolish enough to think that he could not do it."

"If you do not then your demise will be at my hands instead," Castiel replies.

"It isn't much of an incentive, angel," Veles responds and lets out an aborted cry as Castiel increases the pressure.

"Who helped you? Who gave you the power to bind me?" He releases his hold slightly, allowing Veles a moment of respite which makes the pagan chuckle.

"I was merely the conduit for the power. I don't know who gave it or where it came from. It could have been one or many. It could have been one of your own brothers for all I know, little angel, I didn't ask. My only interest was in ensuring that Eve never got out of her box."

Castiel clenches his fist, the desire to destroy the god is back a thousand fold and this time he does not ignore it. If there is nothing that Veles can give him by way of new information then there is no point in keeping the creature alive. He raises his right hand and snaps his fingers. All that remains of Veles is the chunks of blood and gore that decorate the trees around them. Castiel casts a cursory glance over his apparel, notes the blood on his trench coat with a disinterested shrug. He has other enemies to deal with and there is little point in cleaning it multiple times. He shrugs it off and goes in search of Raphael's first lieutenant.

Deep inside and buried under the weight of a hundred thousand souls, the grace and love of an angel screams.

Artemis