Thank you for your cooperation. It has gilded this.
It has been said that Angels were made as warriors, and thus they would stay for billions of years. So it has been. I have burned out demons from vessels that have lived, and some that have not. Ridding the world of their defiling parasites comes above all else. I lack the luxury to care for every soul I come into contact with, lest I be over-burdened. I have usurped the unjust and brought merciless punishment down upon those who betray words of law, lain down by an… absent, but all-knowing Father. I still remain to do so.
But I am changed. A new kind of feeling has erupted within my breast. It isn't righteousness as Michael taught me, or bloodlust for transgressors. And it is not obedience.
Now my vessel walks the earth. Actually, it walks along a cheap carpet in a motel so far from anything important that it's hardly a stain on the fabric of time. And yet…
I have… done many things for normal men. Three normal men; usually just the pair. Sam and Dean Winchester have their own piece of the Holy Scripture now, through the prophet born to tell their story. Many follow them now – and many more will sing of their life and death in the decades and eons to come. This I had accepted as God's will. I lent them my hand at every bay and call... Just about. Clearing out nests of pestilence and raising them from perdition with nothing but demon blood on my cheek and wings on my back. For them… I would do anything, and have proved that much.
I am Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord. I was created to love and protect human kind in their vast imperfection. And I am in a kind of distress that I've only ever observed in human beings for my entire existence. And that is affection. Not for family, but for one beyond that. Affection I believe is not unrequited, but for now I have to assume, as well as pretend, that it is, because if I try anything else I will come out of it with a broken nose. Dean is very hostile about emotions he cannot handle. Sam could attest to that. Dean in particular of the two has given me freedom. It is something I am now ruled by, ironically, and I can't say I'm not proud to have it – to be loosened from my shackles of war and duty.
But it is something I could describe as a length of rope. The further from authority and into individual thought you go, the more powerful you feel; pride follows, as does success, and maybe even failure. But at your own hand.
My hands have grasped glasses of liquor, and bottles of it as well. My hands have taken and given life and death, illness and health. Right now they look to me like strangers as I realize what I have done to myself in committing myself to these boys.
This length of rope which is given out stretches as far as you go until it's long enough to hang oneself. I believe I have made my noose with the rope I earned. And my noose is a righteous man; but just a man, and nothing more or less.
He bows to justice and reaps insurrection. He brandishes his bravado like no other and does what work no weaker man could do, or will ever again. His desires are… natural and quieted often, to keep his mind in order. He is managed poorly but it serves his purpose. Unstable, but powerful, and in his right mind. A mind of human need for justice, and for love – shattered is normality, insanity is his steed, which he steers along his path and leads where he pleases, sometimes ignoring his own fate.
He is a man among men. A great man, to be known among all. Now, I have no choice but to hang myself with him. For my affection lies with for him. With addressing these affections, I hang our steady friendship. With addressing my growing emotions, which are my bane, I put at risk everything we've done together to one end. An end that would entirely justify the means - if only I had the guts to go through with them. An end that would be an end to many things. But an end I cannot but strive for. Even at the risk of unholiness; even at the risk of allies and friendship; even at the risk of demise – I will find guts for this cause. I will fight for Dean Winchester.
I apologize for its thick language and Biblical stewing. Castiel is a very hard mindset to escape from.
