Author's Note: Okay, if you've been curious about chapter titles, here's a post telling you where I got them all. I gave minor explanations for some of the choices, but for the most part I left them alone. I figure, you've read the story, you know what I'm referring to with each title. Or at least you could venture a guess? Meh, if you have questions, always feel free to message me. Or leave your question in a review. I get back to those rather well, if I do say so myself :)
And now, I give you the next chapter. If you don't know where this title comes from, SHAME ON YOU.
EDIT: So I mentioned my post about chapter titles but didn't bother to post the link, because I'm an idiot. And apparently there's been a crackdown on links lately. So if you know how to use tumblr, my username is "imnotleavinherewithoutyou," and you know what to do. Here it is (remember to edit the url!):
com(slash)post/49582752807/my-name-is-castiel-chap ter-references
If you don't know how to use tumblr and you still wanna see the post, PM me, or leave a review, and I'll get it to you somehow. Guh, this site is driving me mad, I swear.
Chapter 29 – Tale Older than Time
The world freezes as the air conditioner comes down at Sam and Dean, and I suppose I won't have to stop it from hitting them, after all.
"Castiel."
I turn to see one of the Fates approaching me. "Atropos. You look well."
"I look like stomped-over crap, because of you," she says vehemently.
"All right, let's talk about this," I say, stepping toward her.
"Talk? About what? Maybe about how you and those two circus clowns destroyed my work. You ruined my life."
"Let's not get emotional."
"Not get emotional?!" she cries. "I had a job. God gave me a job. We all had a script. I worked hard. I was really, really good at what I did… until the day of the big prize fight. And then what happens? You throw out the book!"
"Well, I'm sorry. But freedom is more preferable," I say.
"Freedom? This is… chaos! How is it better? You know, I even went to Heaven just to ask what to do next—" and oh, I can already picture how that turned out "—and you know what? No one would even talk to me."
"There are more pressing matters at hand."
"But I don't know what happens next. I need to know—it's what I do."
There was a period in time in which my thought processes were similar to hers. But I understand now the flaw in this sort of close-minded thinking. There is a bigger picture, and this limited mindset prevents us from seeing it.
"I'm sorry," I say, "but your services are no longer required."
"You know what? I've kept my mouth shut. I could have complained, I could have raised a fuss, but I didn't. But you know what the last straw is? Un-sinking the Titanic. You changed the future. You cannot change the past. That is going too far!"
"It's Balthazar. He's erratic—"
"Bull crap," she interrupts. "This isn't about some stupid movie. He's under your orders. You sent him back to save that ship."
"No I didn't," I deny, but it seems fruitless—she's already onto the truth. "Why would I?"
"Oh, maybe because you're in the middle of a war, and you're desperate?" she says. When I don't respond, she says, "Come on. This is about the souls."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"That angel went and created fifty thousand new souls for your war machine."
"You're confused."
"No. You can't just mint money, Castiel. It's wrong. It's dangerous… and I won't let you."
"You don't have a choice."
She looks at me for a long moment. "Maybe I don't. So here's a choice for you. If you don't go back, and sink that boat, I'm gonna kill your two favorite pets," she says, glancing at Sam and Dean.
"I won't let you."
"Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do?" she challenges.
"Do you really want to test me?" I respond.
I can see in her eyes the realization that I wouldn't hesitate to kill her, if that's what it would take to stop her from killing the Winchesters.
"Okay. Fine," she says. "But think about this—I've got two sisters out there. They're bigger, in every sense of the word. Kill me—Sam and Dean are target one. For simple vengeance." She pauses for a moment when I turn my head to look at the brothers, but then she continues, "You're not… fighting a war or anything, right? You can watch them every millisecond of every day. Because maybe you've heard: fate strikes, when you least expect it."
And then I sense a familiar presence sneaking toward my conversational partner from behind.
"Balthazar, stop," I say.
Atropos spins around and sees Balthazar standing behind her, poised to strike.
"Ah," he says. "Awkward."
Atropos turns back to me. "Set things right before I flick your precious boys off a cliff, just on principle."
"Uh, sweetie, before we go, um, I could remove that stick—" Balthazar begins.
"Don't try me," she interrupts.
"Oh. We'll leave it inserted, then," he says. He glances at me over Atropos's head, and I give him a nod. "All right, then. Let's sink the Titanic."
[Insert line break]
I have lost the power to aid my soldiers against Raphael's. Even with the weapons of Heaven on our side, we will not be able to defeat Raphael without more power. Balthazar's plan to generate more souls was foiled, and now I don't know what to do.
I just need to keep my forces together until Crowley finds the way to Purgatory. Once I am able to access all of those souls, Raphael will be outmatched. I've already come so far—I cannot fail now. Failure will lead to the Apocalypse. I have to remember that that is what I'm fighting for. I'm desperate for more strength, for the strength to protect my angels.
There must be something else I can do, something that will help us survive just a little longer.
My thoughts are interrupted by twin wing beats, and I turn around to face Gadreel and Eremiel as they land before me.
"Rachel," Gadreel says a little breathlessly. "She was leading us in a battle, and suddenly Raphael's forces grew stronger. We've fallen back to a different realm, but we lost six brothers in a single minute."
I look down. No, Raphael's forces didn't grow stronger. Ours grew weaker because my extra strength finally drained away. This is my fault.
"Is it possible for Raphael to do something like that?" Eremiel asks with a frown. "How can he strengthen each angel in an entire garrison?"
"I believe it is possible—he is an archangel, with so much power at his disposal," I say.
"Do you think he is preparing to finish us off?" Gadreel asks.
"Perhaps. We must devise a strategy to hold on."
"Why prolong the inevitable?" Gadreel says. "If he's going to win, he's going to win, and nothing can save us."
"Have faith," I say.
Gadreel gazes at me for a moment before giving me a fierce nod, but Eremiel is watching me with a questioning look in his eyes. I wait for him to voice his insecurities, but he says nothing and lets his gaze drop to the floor beneath us.
"Strategy, then," Gadreel says. "I can handle strategy."
"Good. Eremiel, do whatever you can to help. I will search for a solution that can strengthen our forces. I was brought back for a reason, and I believe this was it."
"Good luck, then, Castiel," Gadreel says before taking off.
Eremiel follows without another word, and I wonder what he is thinking—he was always quiet, but never this quiet.
Then Balthazar lands beside me with a sigh. "It's not helpful."
"What appears to be the problem?"
"The problem is that the souls will not stay in the present. As soon as you want to start using one, it will revert to its original timeline and disappear. I've gotten some to volunteer. It doesn't make a difference. Neither does age," Balthazar says.
"So that's another idea off the list," I say with a frown.
"I still say we kill the Fates."
"Chaos would—"
"Oh Cas, please. Those three ridiculous sisters made everyone's lives miserable as it is. It's not as though they actually control anything, anyway. All goes according to 'God's plan,' if He is really still out there."
"You have become very cynical."
"Oh yes, I thought you knew that already." When I don't answer, Balthazar sighs. "Look, Atropos is the easiest to find. If we hold her hostage, Clotho and Lachesis will have to come."
"No, Balthazar. They still have important roles for humanity. Who will decide when common people are born if Clotho is no longer there? I doubt you would like to take that role from her."
"So what if humans aren't born for a few years? It'll be—"
"It is unprecedented. We do not know what would happen if Clotho or Lachesis were to die. Atropos is the only one we could kill with only slight consequences, but her sisters will not let us kill her without—"
"Then bring the boys to Heaven," Balthazar says. "Before you shoot me down—"
"No."
"Let me finish," he says loudly. I shake my head and open my mouth, but at the frustrated look on his face, I decide to show him some respect and close it again. "Thank you," he says, but it doesn't sound sincere. "I know Rachel's suggested this before. And she can't have been the only one. But if they're in Heaven, they will be safer. We'll be able to watch over them easily, at all times. What is so terrible about that?"
"They will be too close to Raphael," I say. "I won't—"
"Then disguise them. Hide their true natures."
"I will not use the same dirty tricks that Zachariah used on them. That was wrong. He turned them into different people, Balthazar."
"Only temporarily."
"No."
"But Cas—"
"I will not kill them, and I will not take away their free will," I say. "Any further arguing on the matter will just be a waste of time. Do you have any other ideas?"
"I'm plumb out," Balthazar says angrily, "because you keep rejecting everything I think of!"
I grit my teeth and wonder when I picked up such a human habit. "We have a problem."
"Clearly."
Ignoring his quip, I continue, "You don't seem to understand the significance of the Winchesters. Were it not for them, we would not be fighting this war. They taught me about free will. Your freedom that you enjoy so much is owed to them. Do you not see that?"
"Yes, of course. But that doesn't mean we need to treat them like, like, like gods, or better! You're being absolutely ridiculous, Cas. If you really want me to stop suggesting to off the Winchesters, tell me the real reason why you won't allow anyone to hurt them."
"That is the reason."
"That is a reason. Not the only one. And certainly not the most important one," Balthazar responds.
I turn away. "Enough."
Balthazar shifts around so that he's back in my line of sight. "Is it that difficult to admit—and to me, of all people—that you're in love with Dean Winchester? And I hope you know that I'm not saying this as a joke. Not today." I say nothing, and he sighs. "I thought we were brothers. I've told you everything about myself, always. I thought you would do the same for me."
"Dean Winchester to me is not necessarily what Leliel was to you," I say, and Balthazar flinches at the use of his mate's name.
"You did that intentionally. I knew you to be a little absentminded and clueless at times, but you were never intentionally cruel," he says.
"Cruel? You think that is cruel? Think of your own suggestions. You seem to think that Dean Winchester means to me what Leliel meant to you. Could you stand it if our brothers—and not only our other brothers, but myself included—continually suggested that we kill him? Would you allow it to happen?"
"But… this is…" his voice fades.
"Different? Is it, really?" I challenge.
There's a long silence, and I hold his gaze, daring him to answer in the affirmative. I know that he would have never stood by and let Leliel die. I remember Balthazar had tried everything possible to bring him back. He'd prayed to God, begged Michael, even gone to Chronos, the God of Time, to ask him to turn back the clock so he could save his beloved.
No, Balthazar could not let him die. I have won this argument.
"So it's true, then," Balthazar finally says. "You have fallen in love with a human."
I keep my unblinking eyes fixed on him as I reply, "Yes." And as I say it, I know with every atom that composes my being that it's true.
"Cas… forgive me."
I nod. "This is between us. Let the others speculate as much as they want. Only you know the truth of me."
Balthazar's lips quirk up in a small smile. "Yes, Cas, I know. And you alone know all of me."
I finally break our gaze. "We must find another way to sustain our forces."
"Yes," my brother agrees. "Would you like to look into alternate realities? Perhaps we could steal souls from some of those."
"I doubt that they could even exist in true reality."
"But it is worth a try, yes?"
"I suppose so, yes."
"I'll collect what I need, then. We'll meet at the usual place?"
"Yes."
Balthazar takes off with a smile, heading down for Earth. But as he departs, my stomach rolls uncomfortably at the thought that I am still concealing the Purgatory deal from him. I lied—no one knows all of me, except perhaps God. But He continues to show indifference toward all of us, toward the fate of the world that He created.
Will He ever return? I wish He would.
"I was alone for… a long time. Indeterminably long, because I had not yet created Time. I began to create so that I would have companions. And as soon as I started to create, another being appeared to me. He had been alone as well, but when I created the first beast, he discovered my existence and came. We had no names at the time, but this being would later become known to all as Death.
"He was fascinated by my ability to create, and we soon discovered that his talent lay in removing my creations from existence. We experimented with souls, essences, creatures of all sorts. I even created another with being the ability to create as I did, albeit to a smaller scale—she was called Eve.
"But the world grew too messy, and I worried that these creatures would destroy it all. So I started fresh with a new world, one inaccessible to the old ones and the creatures of Eve. Instead of beasts, I tried for something else, for beings that would love and obey me."
"So, us," Gabriel says. He looks and sounds annoyed.
"Yes. Michael was the first, and then Lucifer. And then Raphael, and you. But after creating you, Gabriel, I learned something."
I shift closer, listening intently. This is something that no one has ever been able to explain—the reason why God waited so long after creating the archangels to start creating the rest of us. I glance at Gabriel and see that this is the first time he's hearing it as well.
"I realized that one day, one of my own creations would bring about my death."
"The silent day," Gabriel murmurs. "That's what it was about, wasn't it?"
"Death convinced me that I should continue to create regardless. I made inanimate things, afraid of my own future. I made the Earth, the mountains, water, sky. The sun, moon, and billions of stars."
"Why did you continue to create angels, then?" I ask.
"It… it might have been because of me," Gabriel says, awe creeping into his voice.
God smiles, and I feel as though I am trespassing on a private moment, a shared memory.
"Yes," God says. "Gabriel grew bored, and his brothers tired of his tricks. They needed more with which they could entertain themselves, and inanimate objects were not enough to satisfy them. And so I began to create angels again. All was well until… until you, Castiel."
I look at him and wait, unsure of how I should respond.
"I created you, and in you, I saw my death."
Gabriel stares at me with wide eyes, and I can only blink back in response. How does one react to being named killer of God by God Himself?
"I instantly destroyed you, before you were even fully formed," God continues, "but Death said that he could not take you—couldn't even touch you. I should have known then that it was futile. You returned to life by my own hands, and I whispered to you—"
"Little one, you are different. And you are called Castiel," I finish for Her—these are words I know too well.
She smiles sadly. "Yes. I told you this, hoping that you would deem yourself special. I could not destroy you myself, and I thought it was because you'd not yet had a fair chance at life—the universe has rules that even I cannot bend. So I hoped you would dissent, disobey, force the others' hands against you. But you did not. You played the part of the perfect soldier, until Dean Winchester. When you rebelled, I thought that I was saved. That Raphael would destroy you, and that would be the end of it. But when Death came to collect you, you did the impossible."
"What did I do?" I ask when She falls silent, seemingly lost in Her memory.
"You fought him off, sent him away," God says, looking at me. "I had no choice but to restore you again, even though I'd already come here and assumed this identity."
Gabriel is staring at me. "You? Fought Death? And… and won?"
"I… I do not remember any of that." I can hardly believe it. What… what am I, then? Am I even an angel? An angel shouldn't be able to fight off Death.
"And you wouldn't," God says. "At this point, I realized the truth and accepted my own future, that I would have to die. So I altered fate and history and wove this web, and set about putting things right for my children."
"Putting things right? You allowed the Leviathans to roam the Earth!" Gabriel exclaims.
"Yes, because I took away their freedom. I had to give it back."
I take a deep breath that I don't really need, trying to keep calm. "How do I kill you? Because at this point, that's what I want to do to you."
"Who ever said anything about killing?" God replies. "No, Castiel, you will not kill me. But you will bring the death of me."
"I do not understand," I say, frowning.
Suddenly Gabriel says, "You can't die. We still have the Leviathans to worry about. You were the one who set the events in motion to free them, so you could just as easily lock them right back up. You're God."
At his words, I feel a faint tug on my Grace, as though it's serving as a reminder of my purpose here. Dean's still out there, waiting for us to return. As are Sam, Bobby, Kali, Balthazar, Crowley, and Meg. So much is at stake.
"Yes, but that would make all of this futile," God is saying. "I do not make decisions lightly, and I would not go through the trouble of releasing them only to be persuaded to cage them again."
"But—" Gabriel begins.
"Has it never occurred to you that they are my children, too?" God asks sharply, and Gabriel shuts his mouth.
"Did you really grant them until the end of time?" I ask, remembering Griech's words to me.
"Yes," God says, a bit of regret in Her voice. But She looks at me and says, "You know what must be done, don't you?"
And I realize that I do. I know exactly what must be done, and She knows that I know.
"You mustn't wait too long," She says. "Once the first missiles are launched, fear and paranoia will pervade the Earth. Starting a war is all too easy, but stopping one is far too difficult." She looks over at Gabriel. "I am pleased that you chose to come and support your brother. You have finally grown up. And just in time for me to see it."
Gabriel's eyes widen a fraction. "You… you don't mean to say that it's going to happen now—"
Before he can finish asking his question, the answer presents itself.
"Hello, old friend."
Gabriel and I turn to see Death standing behind us. I look back in time to see the smile on God's face. It is not insincere.
"You've been absent a long time," Death continues.
"You didn't know where He was, either?" Gabriel asks. "I thought… I thought you were lying."
"I don't lie." Then Death smiles. "It is time for you to come with me, God."
"Wait," Gabriel says. "He… We only just found Him." He turns to God. "Why? Why wouldn't you show yourself to me when I saw you before? I would've kept it secret if you asked it. I searched for centuries, Father."
"We don't have time for your silly drama," Death says coldly.
God raises a slim hand, and Death holds his tongue.
"Why could Castiel see you when even Death couldn't?" Gabriel asks.
It's a question that hadn't even occurred to me yet.
Death sighs. "Two minutes, old friend. After that, no more."
"Thank you."
Death vanishes without warning, and God looks at Gabriel.
"I apologize, my child. I took the coward's way out."
"Coward's… what? Explain," Gabriel says.
"Your questions are related. Castiel is the harbinger of my death. I destroyed him instantly to keep him from seeing me because I knew—the day that he laid eyes on me would be the day I died. Nothing could disguise me before his eyes. I stayed in Heaven, hidden from all angels save the first four for this reason. But I never felt safe. It would take only one slip-up for him to accidentally see me. I was not prepared to die."
She turns to me, and I can't tell what I see in Her eyes. But I know for sure that there is no blame.
"I don't understand," I say. "Why couldn't you circumvent this? You… you created everything. Surely you could—"
"There are rules. There is no such thing as true immortality, not for any creature. Not even God," She says.
"What about Death?" Gabriel asks.
"Death is not like the rest of us. He is not a living being—he cannot die because he is already dead. Was when I first met him, and still is now."
It's a strange concept, but I can't bring myself to care, at the moment. "Why me?" I ask.
God shakes Her head. "I don't know, Castiel. I cannot answer your question. But Gabriel's… his I can provide an answer for. I stayed in disguise because I wanted no one to find me. If I had opened your eyes then, Gabriel, I would have risked showing myself to anyone near enough to see. And you would have tried to convince me to fix Heaven, to fix the conflict that I created there—because yes, I allowed Michael to strike down Lucifer. It was necessary."
Gabriel looks ready to argue, but God holds up a hand, silencing him.
"I do not have enough time for this," She says.
God turns to me and gives me a small smile. Then She holds out a fist, indicating with Her other hand that I should raise mine. She opens Her fist, and a silvery orb floats down from Her palm to mine. It rests lightly on my hand, but I feel unimaginable, immeasurable power pulsing within it, brushing feather-light against my Grace.
"Bring this to Michael," She commands. "He won't be able to use it until the time is right—this much I have ensured. I am proud of the way he's grown, and of his decision to protect humanity. I have no orders for him, only two requests: the first, that he find happiness again; the second, that he rule my kingdom well. You may show him this memory as proof of the authenticity of my words."
I nod, closing my fist dutifully around the silvery ball of light.
Already God is looking weaker, and Gabriel's expression is pained.
"Father…" he murmurs.
"You were a good son. A playful one. The only one who came to find me, until Castiel," God says softly.
Then Death is back, standing at God's side. "I really can't give you much more time," he says, but this time he looks apologetic.
"Just… a few last things," God says before turning Her eyes back to me.
In them I see the weariness of billions upon billions of years, and I find myself thinking that perhaps God does need rest, after all.
"Castiel," She says, Her Voice bleeding through, "You Should Have Happiness As Well. Use My Strength To Finish It, Before You Pass It On To Michael. With My Strength, He Shall Survive."
I blink at God a few times, realizing that She is talking about Dean. "You… you really did choose him, didn't you?" I ask.
God smiles, and Light starts to shine through Her vessel. I have never beheld a more spectacular sight.
"I Wish You Happy Lives. Spread My Blessing To All My Children."
"Enough," Death says gently, as though God Himself is but a child. "Come, now. It is time."
There is a burst of Light that hurts even my eyes, but I cannot look away from the incandescence, the… utterly indescribable sight before me.
And then it's over.
When my eyes adjust, both figures are gone, and a lead weight drops into my chest as I look at Gabriel and see the truth reflected in his eyes.
God is dead.
