I raise the fist, raise the fist with power and fate
And wishing that his claws will grab onto my hand
I like to believe he's the chosen one
I like to believe he's the fallen one
Dead but rising
I have been to the end of waters
I have been to the end of earth
I've been over mountains and riding the storms
Dear son, your words have reached me
And for that I can carry on
I'll guide you in spirit. Today I'll be home
I like to believe he's the fallen one
I like to believe he's the chosen one
The rebirth of man heals a bleeding heart
The eagle of kings wears my father's soul
Dead but rising
Volbeat, "Dead but rising"
You know it's over the very moment you see a glimpse of his serene face through your swollen eyelids and the blood flooding your eyes... And it's so perfectly ironic that you are kneeling while he approaches you, then reaches out to press his fingers to your forehead. This uncaring touch that makes you flinch is so unlike all these soft caresses of his fingertips and lips with which he used to heal you earlier, always sneaking affection and veneration into the tingling flow of his grace. If it was not for the shock and pain you would recoil from his hand.
There is so much power seeping from Castiel's vessel that you catch yourself expecting the touch to hurt, to send a jolt down your spine. You almost feel the static around him; white noise of barely restrained power coiling and vibrating around him. Your eyes still hurt; you see red circles, bedazzled by the glaring light. It takes you a while to understand that it's just the sun. Just the sun.
"Cas, are you God?" you manage to choke out. He denies it, but he is so damn sure it was God who chose him and brought him back.
So smug about it.
Then he turns away. Just like that. He leaves you on the graveyard kneeling over your living brother's grave and walks away. The nights you both have spent comforting each other, talking about your absent fathers and reassuring each other that it was high time to forget about them are discarded like they meant nothing. Everything you had shatters to dust; the one you expected to stand by your side turns on his heels to follow a compelling call as if it is his only purpose, as if he has been dormant, waiting for this summoning, ready to abandon everything else should he finally hear it. As if all he ever told you about choices and will meant nothing.
Just when you have lost everything - your purpose, your family, your strength - he denies you his love, he divests you of the feeling that you were important, cherished, cared for. It is only natural that God will always be an angel's ultimate purpose, so you choke back the curses you are bursting with and push the feeling of betrayal deep, deep down. You realize you were a fool to hope for anything else.
