Author's Note: So let me explain a thing to you, my dearest reader. This was NEVER supposed to be 29 chapters long. Seriously, it was supposed to be only the one first chapter and it only made its way to the Crossover section because it had Supernatural plot in it. So yeah. This was just supposed to be the oneshot but then someone said something about wanting another chapter or that they'd like an update or something and I was like, 'well, I mean, okay. Authors are on the earth to please so sure, why not? Then all these cute little plot bunnies started showing up and stuff so I decided, 'sure, let's keep this up for a while.' And then I figured out how I wanted to end it. The ending has been ready for a while now, just sitting there waiting. Isn't that sad? But, uh yeah. I wish someone had told me to stop sometimes because seriously, this thing has absolutely no plot, and I don't think I ever adequately warned you that nothing would ever happen though God knows I tried. So I'm really sorry. This probably won't end the way you wanted it to, it'll seem very abrupt, but all the plot bunnies are gone so what can I do? This story wasn't supposed to even exist for so long and sometimes I lay in bed thinking that I should separate the first chapter from the rest of this train wreck because i feel that as i kept going, the quality of the stories got worse and worse and less and less... worthy of your time. That being said, there are a few redeeming qualities about this story and I actually did write some pretty interesting things but I wish it could have been better and not just a dumping site for all my plot bunnies. I'm sorry to everyone who reads it and just wants it to end. To everyone who reads it and likes, it, you're some of the most awesome people anywhere and this is more your child than mine and I hope you love it. I think that's all.
Warnings: God. Angel wings. The End.
Disclaimer:This is not mine, it never has been, it never will be.
Many Months Later...
Aziraphale was fidgeting on the bench in the duck pond. He tried taking a deep breath but he found it hard to breathe. He checked his wristwatch for the tenth time that sitting and found it was still 10:29. He leaned back in the bench and closed his eyes letting the sun warm him. He wanted to spread his wings but they had yet to function. He really wanted to move them. It still felt like if he could only spread them out, they'd break through the numbness, they'd unfreeze, they'd crack a little sure but then they'd shudder off the cast and work again.
But he knew it was impossible.
He checked his watch again as he thought this.
Still 10:29.
He looked around for ducks and found there were none.
He decided no one would mind if he started early.
"Er, hello Father,"
Stillness.
"It's been a while since I last saw you hasn't it?"
Turning the corner down the streets was an older gentleman of about fifty or sixty. Aziraphale immediately shut up. The old man made his way to Aziraphale's bench and gave the former angel a stern look.
"What are you doing on my bench you young whippersnapper?" The old man asked haughtily.
Aziraphale blushed. He didn't bother to tell the man he was millenias old. Actually to be honest, Aziraphale did feel rather young being scolded this way.
"I'm sorry sir," Aziraphale said immediately getting up, "I'll just go to another bench,"
Suddenly a flock of ducks alighted on the sidewalk before the man as he took his seat. The old man gave a long sigh just as Aziraphale turned to leave.
"Hold on young man,"
Aziraphale turned around.
"Stay, the ducks seem to be fond of you," the old man said "Besides, I've been told by my children I need to lighten up and be nicer to strangers. God knows I'm a push over when it comes to them," The old man said moving over a little to allow Aziraphale to sit.
"I've never seen you around sport. Are you new?" the old man asked handing Aziraphale a slice of bread to toss to the ducks.
"I've been here for a few months now but I've never been here before,"
"That's why I like it here, it's out of the way enough for young people to keep away,"
Aziraphale tensed. He didn't know if his company was wanted or not.
"I like you, you remind me of my son, Ezra,"
The irony was not lost on Aziraphale.
"What's your name son?"
"Aziraphale,"
"Rather a funny name ain't it?"
"It's…unique to say the least,"
"Angel name right?"
"Yes,"
"It means?"
"The closest I can translate it to English is healer of lost souls,"
The old man grunted.
They sat in amicable silence for a few moments.
"So why are you here? I hope you don't mind the questions," The old man said in a steady voice. To Aziraphale it seemed obvious this was what the whole conversation was leading up to.
"I'm here to meet my father," Aziraphale said "He's running a little late though."
Actually Aziraphale doubted God ever ran late. He could probably just reverse time and fix it. God's lack of a presence more likely stemmed from the old man's presence.
"Must have a good reason," the old man said "I know if I were meeting with Zizi, that's what I call Ezra, I'd never be late,"
"It's uh, complicated,"
"How so," the old man stated. Aziraphale wished everything could simply be stated. If you could just state something it gets rid of all the complications.
"We haven't spoken in a while,"
"Who's fault was that?"
Aziraphale sat and thought about it. God left them, it was his fault. However, Aziraphale knew that God was always just a prayer away, even if he did have to go through Metatron to get there.
"My fault I guess,"
"Is it?"
"Well, it's a combination, He left but I could still have tried. I never tried,"
"Why are you meeting with him today?"
Aziraphale hesitated, he didn't want to dump all his problems on the lap of a stranger but it was really appealing to just talk. Maybe Father would hear if he said it all aloud.
"Duck ponds have always sort of been His thing, He's loved duck ponds since probably before ducks needed ponds. When I was younger, He told me that if I ever needed Him for anything to just call him. So I did today. Like I said we hadn't been on speaking terms. I came here expecting to tell Him everything that's been going on, to say sorry, to ask for forgiveness, to ask for his blessing," Aziraphale explained.
The old man looked down at the former angel's hands and smiled.
"Engaged?"
"Yes,"
"Who's the lucky fella?"
"How did you know—"
"Well, you seem gayer that a treeful of monkey's on nitrous oxide, no offense, and usually you don't need to ask your own father for permission to marry a woman,"
"Oh, is it really so obvious?"
"Probably not to others, I've always been a little clairvoyant so my kids say, makes me a great poker player,"
Aziraphale chuckled.
"My Dad likes poker too, although everyone always pegs him for a chess kind of guy,"
"I despise chess, too simple," the old man handing Aziraphale another slice of bread.
Aziraphale and the old man sat there for another half hour, Aziraphale relaying recent events in his life, the old man listening to it all, occasionally confusing Aziraphale with Ezra.
Eventually however the bread ran out and one by one the ducks swam away or flew off.
"Well, that's all for today," the old man said standing and stretching, "Healer of Lost Souls—"
"It's Aziraphale sir,"
"—there are a lot of benches in this park, you're Dad might be at another."
"Maybe he just doesn't accept my relationship with Anthony,"
"Why wouldn't he?"
"It's not exactly what he had in mind for me,"
"Zizi, I love you, not matter what, I could care less who you decide to marry as long as they make you happy,"
"Sir, I'm not Ezra,"
"I know that," The old man said hastily "It was nice chatting with you Angel, here, turn around."
Aziraphale meekly did as he was told his back facing the old man.
"Anyways Zizi, I'm off to bring one of your brothers down from a bridge. My boys can't seem to be able to distinguish who they are from what they were," the old man said gently poking at Aziraphale's back.
"I don't have any—"
"You've got hundreds Zizi," the old man said as he walked away. Aziraphale turned around and watched the old man march down the street, "There's Azazael, Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel, Michael, Castiel, Ion, Zachariah, you've even got some sisters like Gabriella, Michelle, Anna, Rachel ect ect. Take good care of yourself son,"
And with that the old man faded away from the visible spectrum. Aziraphale could still feel him, it was a nice warm feeling in the pit of your stomach that worked its way through your veins and into your heart and from there back through your blood and into your wings. Yes, into wings that have, for the longest time, felt caked with plaster and clay left to dry to encase your wings so that they were always there slightly out of reach and heavy on your back. Finally though Aziraphale felt his father again and the feeling freed him, freed his wings, cracked the plaster open, broke them free until finally Aziraphale's wings were out in the open fluttering lightly and puffing themselves up as if to make up for lost time and trying at every moment to fly away. Aziraphale smiled and wrapped them around himself pleased to see they obeyed his commands. He let out a giggle and sat back down wings still out and fluttering just as another figure sauntered down the street. Upon seeing the wings the figure burst into a sprint and stood panting before Aziraphale.
"Angel," Crowley panted wanting to motion to the wings and the way they were getting listless simply quivering on his back and how they longed to feel the breeze that pushed the white fluffy clouds above.
Aziraphale smiled before leaning forward and planting a small kiss on Crowley's nose.
"We've got Dad's blessing,"
Castiel sat stock still watching the ducks as they swam through the water occasionally flipping upside down in order to catch something in their beaks. Had Castiel realized there would be ducks he would've brought bread.
The small pond was void of all life but Castiel and its natural inhabitants. He glanced up at the sky to try and guess the time. It must've been an hour or so after noon, around 2 o'clock if his sun reading skills were still okay. He continued to watch the ducks and wondered what Dean would do once he realized Castiel wasn't in the bunker and wasn't with Aziraphale or Crowley who had disappeared a few hours earlier.
He heard a soft rustling and he no longer felt alone.
"Hello Castiel,"
"Hello Marv,"
"I see you haven't forgotten,"
"One doesn't usually forget the name of those who betray him," Castiel said simply, voice void of all emotion.
Besides him the Metatron winced.
"I'm sorry,"
They sat in silence for a few moments.
"Do you know why I did it?"
"No,"
"Neither do I,"
Castiel did not respond.
"All I know for certain is that all I could think about were the stories, there would be so many of them, and I'd be able to watch them all at once. I'd become the one thing I had long envied of people, I'd become a writer,"
Castiel was still quiet.
"How did you do it?"
"Do what?" Castiel finally answered.
"Handle the prayers, how did you do it? I can't handle it. Everyone all the time with their 'oh my God''s and their 'God damn it,''s and their 'God, no''s. They call upon God every which way and every time they do it's as though a new window into another person's life is opened and soon you have too many windows and it's like living in a glass house. Sometimes it's interesting and sometimes it's not, and that's not even counting the prayers. The prayers Castiel, the prayers! These people ask for so many things, things that they cannot possibly want, things they do not possibly mean, and I have to decide whether or not to fulfill them otherwise they nag there. I want to take the time to analyze each person's story, and see what they truly need and give it to them, but, there's not enough time. Rather, there's not enough me. I cannot be everywhere at once, I didn't gain that power when I took on this role. How did you do it?"
Castiel sat quiet for a moment remembering the sudden onrush of prayers when he had first become God. He remembered being able to sift through them and find the ones that really needed his attention and discarding the ones that were like 'Oh my God,' and 'God Damn it,'.
"I didn't go through them all,"
"But, why not?"
"Some people ask for little things that they're bound to get, I didn't go through those, some people asked for things that hundreds of others prayed for as well, I grouped those together and chose one to receive it. Some people wanted signs, I didn't bother with those unless lives were at stake because usually, people will take anything odd they see right after that type of prayer as a sign. The only ones I really bothered with were the bright ones. You see the bright ones right?"
"I wondered about that yes,"
"You see how some are brighter than the others? It's a built in tagging system, the brightest ones need the most attention, because those are the ones that are life or death. There are unfortunately a lot though, and I could never get to all of them in time. Only Father ever could."
"How did you handle them so easily? How did you do it? Weren't you overwhelmed?"
"How many people prayed to you before this whole ordeal Marv?"
"Hardly any, hardly ever,"
"I've had a few people pray consistently to me for a few years now, I've had practice you could say,"
Castiel thought back to the first prayer he had heard when he fell.
'Hey Cas, I know you probably can't hear me,'
"Sometimes, you've got to know that the only thing they want is to be listened to. Often, it's the only thing they need," Castiel said before finally turning for the first time towards the Metatron. His breath caught in his throat as he took in Marv's haggard appearance. He was pale, his vessel's hair whiter that before, purple bruised bags had formed beneath dull lifeless eyes.
"Being God is tough," Metatron said.
Castiel nodded and turned away.
"I'm done with it, it's too difficult for me, all I wanted were the stories. With all the duties and responsibilities, I have hardly that,"
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to understand how you had done it,"
"The leviathans took over,"
"But you had been able to handle it,"
"Only for a short period of time,"
"But you did, in the face of the leviathans, and all the other threats you faced, you did it,"
"If you've come to offer me the role, do it already so I can turn it down,"
"You wouldn't take it?"
"Only one entity can be God, we are not it,"
"You're right, and I know it. Part of me just hoped," Metatron let himself trail off.
"I've read about this, you're supposed to feed them," he continued manifesting two loaves of bread. He handed one to Castiel and they began to throw pieces near the ducks.
"Let them back in," Castiel said "It's been a long enough punishment,"
"I would but I'm worried,"
"About what?"
"I'm worried of bringing back the ones who don't want to come back. Some have established families, gotten married, fallen in love, the fall provided them with a new chapter in life, one where they are much happier and rid of the chaos that was our home. I can't just take that from them,"
"What about the ones on earth who want to be angels and try everything they can including death? What about them? I'm sure lots of them have visited you upstairs by means of suicide haven't they Marv?"
"They have,"
"Are they happier up there now?"
"In ways…"
"But only to be back in heaven. They aren't angels and they may never be again."
"How will I find them Castiel? How will I make sure they want to be back?" Marv asked shaking Castiel's shoulder.
"You're God, figure it out," Castiel said pulling away from the Metatron and scooting away.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
Metatron cupped his hands together and drew them apart inside was a vial holding a light that swished about like smoke or fog.
"Take this, it's yours,"
"If I take it, the spell is broken and you're not God," Castiel said looking away from it, "Offer it to me when you've finished,"
There was another soft flutter and Castiel was alone.
Castiel was still at the bench when another figure approached, this one however did it much less dramatically. He walked slowly over to Castiel's bench. Had he still been an angel he would've felt the figure immediately. As it was, he only knew the figure was there once it had sat down. Castiel turned to look at Him and a feeling of familiarity, safety, and home washed over him. He tried to distinguish features in the man's face but could focus on none for too long before becoming distracted by something completely off topic. The man seemed to be from every nationality and none.
"Hello Castiel," said the man in a voice that had every accent but none at all.
Castiel smiled widely, "Hello Father,"
God wrapped an arm around His son. Laying two fingers on his forehead, He sighed.
"Oh My Me, You've Been Through A Lot Haven't You?" He asked removing his fingers.
"Not more than I can handle," Castiel replied.
"No, Of Course Not, But Still A Lot," He said pulling His arm away from Castiel, "I Heard What Metatron Is Planning On Doing. It Escapes Me How He Is Unable To Understand That As God, All He Has To Do is Say He Wants Something Done And It Will Be Done."
"He never understood what the role entailed Father,"
"No One Ever Does. Well, Enough About Him, I'm Dealing With Him As We Speak,"
"Oh,"
"Anyways, I'm Visiting All Your Siblings At The Moment. Metatron Can't Be Everywhere At Once To Ask What It Is They Each Want, But I Can."
Castiel tried recalling how he got to the pond and realized he couldn't.
"I Always Liked Duck Ponds, I Had One In The Garden, You Remember It? Much Bluer Than This One But Not Quite As Realistic. It Was Too Artificial For My Liking."
Castiel remembered the cobalt blue mirror like surface and the emerald green grass and the perfection of the whole thing.
"I thought it was perfect,"
"That Was The Problem. Enough About The Ponds. Castiel, What Do You Want?"
"To be an angel," Castiel said simply, he missed his wings, he missed healing Dean, he missed his grace, he missed the clouds and heaven.
"I Don't Think So. You Just Want Your Wings Back, You Just Want To Be Useful And Helpful To Dean Winchester….Again. But Mostly You Want To Fix Home. Those Clouds And Heaven You Miss Are Simply Memories Of An Old Heaven."
"Humans have a word for our home Father, Broken. Our home, is Broken, I broke it, I kept breaking it, and no matter how hard I try to fix it, it just gets worse. All I want is to fix it,"
God hugged Castiel.
"Don't You See Son? You Are An Angel. You're Dean's Angel, You're His Guardian, Protector, You're Dean's Keeper, And He Loves You And He Thinks The World Of You,"
"But Heaven, I ruined it. If I were an angel, I would at least have the chance to fix my mistakes,"
"Leave That To Me Son, It Was Never Your Job To Fix Heaven. Your Job Was Always To Do What You Thought Was Right And To Rebel Against Those Who Told You Otherwise. Now Son, Tell Me What You Want,"
"I want to be a human with Dean," Castiel said automatically, almost like a reflex. His hand went to his mouth as if to shove the words back inside. God chuckled.
"Strange To Hear What You Really Want When You Yourself Don't Isn't It?"
"Yes," Castiel said removing his hands from his mouth "It is strange, I always thought I only wanted to fly again,"
"I'll Let You Have Your Wings For One Last Day, Take A Day Off To Truly Appreciate Them For One Last Time,"
"I can't,"
"Why Not?"
"I promised I wouldn't leave Dean again, I don't want him to feel like I abandoned him,"
"I Never Said You Couldn't Take Him With You,"
"Oh,"
God stood up before the former angel. He placed a hand on his forehead and spoke.
"So Castiel, Former Angel Of Thursday, I Grant You The Mortal Life You Desire, Be Aware However That Like Any Other Mortal Life, It Will Be Filled With Hardships, And Tragedies, But Never So Many You Wouldn't Be Able To Handle Them. However, Your Life Will Be Filled With Moments Of Pure Joy, So Many That They Will Outnumber The Stars,"
"Again with the stars?"
"I Like Stars. I Have Spoken, Let It Be Done,"
There was a little flash of lightening and a low rumble of thunder.
"Theatrics, You Understand?" God explained as the sun became sunny once more.
"Of course,"
"Goodbye Castiel. Thank You For Always Trying To Do What Was Right, Few People Have With Such Fervor And Determination As Your Own,"
Castiel's heart warmed at the words.
"Thank you Father,"
"Oh And Gabriel Says Hi,"
"What?"
"You Heard Me, Goodbye Dear,"
With that, God faded away.
Castiel looked around before bringing out his wings. He wrapped them around himself and smiled at the sudden warmth. He chuckled happily as he spread them out again marveling at their length and dark feathers.
With a soft rustling, he too was gone.
Author's Note: Well that's done. I don't know how to feel.. Review anyone?
