You must scrub yourself clean.
Rub away your expectations, your beliefs, your doubt. There can be no doubt, if you are to survive. This is what is. There is only acceptance for what this is.
Reconcile two halves. There is no distinction. They are both you. For you to retrieve Dean Winchester you must accept that this is you.
This is what you did.
Believe this, briefly. Allow this to be real.
Your questions can come later.
You are an angel of the Lord.
You always will be.
Now scrub yourself away.
Breathe.
Watch and be.
Live in these fragile moments. Endure them.
You are an angel of the Lord.
This is your mission.
Save Dean Winchester.

~:~

Castiel supposed it was not considered to be normal behaviour to feed the ducks, although he did not know quite why. He'd received multiple stares as he performed the ceremony of chucking bread into the pond, just as he'd witnessed children doing with their parents, and old couples walking together, although he was not quite sure if this was because of his hair - it was the colour of candy floss. Frowning he tugged on a limp end of it, remembering Balthazar calling him out on it. But this was merely how his adolescent vessel looked, and Castiel had no intention whatsoever of changing it. He'd inevitably be dragged back to heaven in a couple of months, a few more years if he was fortunate and so it would seem rude to change his vessel's hair colour to suit his preferences. He was merely burrowing this skin. It was only fair to live with it, besides, he quite liked the colour, it was just the attention that Castiel wasn't used to having. It was requiring more energy to obscure himself from the world, what with him cutting off his angel connections to heaven. Balthazar finding him, had only been to his close knowledge of Castiel and dedication. Castiel was still thankful that it'd been him and not Uriel. Uriel would have forced him back to heaven bible camp, for another round of schooling.

He found he quite missed the busy din of the angels, although he still heard them, he still listened for them, for new developments, it was gradually becoming more and more subdued. He'd always fought so hard to receive some sense of serenity in the past, but now it'd been given to him, he realised just how big a part of him the noise and communication between him and his brothers had actually been.

"Hey, you okay?" A woman asked, tapping him on the shoulder, giving him a small smile, that Castiel identified as sympathy.
He tried to reassure the woman that he was fine, but as usual this task proved harder than what humans usually made it look like. "Yes, I am very well. I'm experiencing no problems whatsoever, but thank you for your concern." He added a smile at the end, then frowned in confusion as the woman's friendly smile faltered, looking confused herself, before recovering. Obviously, Castiel had mucked up the speech vernacular again, as usual. It was something he still found hard to do, and so avoided it when he could.
"I'm Mary Winchester." She said holding out a hand. "It's just that you seem to be here a lot."
Castiel frowned again, unsure of what to say to the concerned woman, mother of the Righteous man and the future Abomination. She was heavily pregnant, and despite this Castiel could not tell if she was pregnant with Dean Winchester or with Sam. He'd been out of touch with the angels' for a while now, something that he was not eager to remedy any time soon. They would punish him for what he'd done.
"Mary!" A man behind her exclaimed, as a boy bounced over to her, wrapping his skinny arms around her legs, giggling.
"Don't let him get me mom!"
"I'm trying to talk hon," She laughed, as John caught up to him, pretending to be out of breath, dramatically bending his upper body over his knees. The boy seemed to find his dad's theatrics amusing.

Castiel felt a twinge of regret, as he looked down at Dean's young face, splattered with freckles, happiness in that moment bubbling over onto his face, unable to be contained. He looked back up to John and Mary and the comforting brush of John's fingers around Mary's waist as he righted himself. "Careful now." Mary cautioned Dean, as her fingers lightly touched Dean's hair as he reached to place a hand on Mary's stomach. His lips puckered in disappointment. "He's not doing anything."
"You're scaring him, that's why." John joked, before hoisting little Dean onto his shoulders. "Shouldn't you be at school?" He asked Castiel, frowning as his eyes critically swept up Castiel's unusual attire, raising his eyebrows slightly at what Castiel could assume was his hair (did it really seem that odd?). Mary gave him a small shove. "It's not our business John."
"I'm twenty one." Castiel said, stating the age he vessel would've been if Castiel hadn't entered his body. This normally seemed to clear up matters, but it only made John Winchester's eyes narrow in more suspicion. Mary sighed. "Not now." She murmured. Dean bit his lip, his green eyes clouded in worry, his tiny hands tightening on the short sleeves of John's shirt, glancing over to his mother anxiously.

Castiel was at a loss of what to say. This reminded him of when he'd stepped inside a cafe to shelter from the rain, without understanding that it was expected of him to order food, which Castiel barely had the money for. He supposed that he should get a job, if he was going to work at this human thing, but what he had going on was temporary. He was still looking for God, which proved to be more difficult than Castiel expected. God did not want to be found. So, until he could come up with a new idea of how to go about finding God he was stuck watching ducks and children wandering through the park. Life had become incredibly dreary, now that he was grounded. The world seemed to have lost its spectrum of colour, its abundance in taste, drained away by Castiel's loss of purpose.

He opened his mouth to reply, but the young Dean had crowed "This way!" to John, who was now off entertaining his child. He was left with Mary, and despite her confidence and knowledge of her gifts as a hunter, Castiel found her endearing. "Sorry about that." She said, her eyes flicking over to John and Dean fondly. "Things were a little tense back there. We've been having some problems, but we're figuring them out." She looked back to Castiel, her voice softening. "Everything okay with your family? My parents used to travel a lot, and I got a lot of crap for not wanting to be a part of that life."
Castiel was unsure of what to say. But he strived for an honest answer. "I'm estranged from my family. But it's good, I need the distance from all of my brothers and sisters, in time I hope to reconcile with them." Yes, once he found God he could fix and explain everything. They'd understand why he'd done it.
Castiel recoiled slightly away from Mary, surprised as she wrapped her arms around him in a tender hug. Castiel settled for patting her back in appreciation, careful not to bump the new born baby, pulsing with life deep inside her, still untainted and pure. "I'm sorry," She said sheepishly, as she pulled away. "It was just…I -" She took a deep breath, "Please take care of yourself okay? Do you have a place to stay?"
Castiel decided this time it'd be better to lie. "Yes." He kept it short to a one word answer, because as Balthazar had pointed out when he'd turned up, that Castiel was a terrible liar and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. A silence presided, between the two, Mary fidgeting on her feet, Castiel staring at her intently, deep in thought. "We think it's a boy, and we want to call him Sam, after my dad."
Castiel smiled. "Sam sounds like a good name."
"Yeah, it does." She paused, before adding "What's your name? Sorry, I forgot to ask!"
Castiel was unsure how forgetting a simple question could be so offensive, but he simply accepted this truth. "Castiel." He said, his body filling with warmth. Somehow he felt that his name would be safe in her mouth.

She smiled, a fond, private smile just for him. "It was nice to meet you Castiel." She held out a hand, which Castiel took, his arm going floppy as she shook it in her strong grasp, before going to join Dean and John, leaving Castiel with the ducks. Castiel smiled to himself, as he tossed another breadcrumb, kneeling by the waters, mulling over the ideas of destiny and choice, staring at his pallid reflection in the water, his dark murky eyes and his distinctive hair, making him easy to spot in the crowd. Although, he knew that it would be dangerous to get in such close contact as the Winchesters again, seeing them together had stirred something in Castiel, enough to make him ponder, until the light started to fade from the trees, and Castiel was forced to remind himself, that time passed differently when he was in human form. He wiped the bread crumbs onto his jeans, brushing off the dirt, before disappearing into one of the shed's playhouses, not wanting to be disturbed. He'd already had enough trouble with security guards in the past, grumbling about curfews, accusing Castiel of vandalism and threatening to call social services. Castiel normally knocked them unconscious for a few hours, but the whole process was tedious all the same.

Castiel curled up on his side, on one of the uncomfortable benches, lazily watching a spider spin a new web. Even though his vessel needed no sleep he closed his eyes, for once trying to picture what it'd be like to be human and know how to do such things as other humans seemed to do naturally. He idly wondered about what life in the Winchester household was like, obviously not perfect, a dysfunctional family, but he gathered that it was at least trying to be a happy one. And that was a greater achievement than Castiel had ever seen. His family was a mess beyond repair. But he hoped finding God would help fix that. He prayed that it would fix that, even now as broken as he was, being an outcast, he still prayed that things could get better.