The race of time
Author : PlumePlume
Disclaimer : Supernatural belongs to its creators and I do not profit economically from this story.
Spoiler : nothing in particular, I think
Rating : K
Pairing : Destiel
Here is the english translation of a story I wrote some times ago, while researching how old Castiel is, and it made me wonder what our precious angel could feel about that.
I hope you enjoy !
Castiel was several hundred million years old. He could boast of having seen the birth and disappearance of the dinosaurs, he had witnessed the continental drift and had watched thousands of species come to life, evolve and then become extinct. Everything seemed so brief, so fast, on the scale of the angel's life.
Like all the angels of his generation, it seemed like only yesterday that humans were a bunch of hairy primates running around on the savannah, trying to clash two flints in the hope of creating a spark.
Then along came Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man. And all the immutable principles and concepts that Castiel had believed in were shattered, ruthlessly swept aside by this tiny, yet arrogant human. The slightest of his blasphemous words should have earned him immediate disintegration, but Castiel could not bring himself to hurt him. This little being was intriguing. He had aroused his curiosity, and the angel felt attracted by this strange and warm soul despite his wounds.
And it was when he met this curious human that Castiel felt fear for the very first time. A terrible and visceral fear that would never really leave him. The angel was simply terrified that if he took his eyes off the human for a moment, the human would be gone the next. That his race had simply died out while Castiel was busy elsewhere. Everything was so brief for these little creatures.
So the angel did his best not to take his eyes off his belligerent little human. And the more he watched him, the more he became attached. And the more his fear grew. His constant worry gnawed at him and exhausted him. Castiel even came to resent, in a fit of despair, his Father for having created humans so fragile and ephemeral.
And slowly, insidiously, doubt and disobedience began to make their way into his grace. Castiel had completely abandoned Paradise to watch over his human. He marveled at the tenacity and resilience of such fragile, young, primitive creatures. Dean's soul was an eternal source of wonder. It fascinated him, moved him, and made him feel feelings far too strong for a mere angel.
It was as he began to share the daily life of the two hunter brothers - what a strange concept these small human siblings were - that another anguish came to tug at the angel. That of an eternity without Dean, without Sam. An eternity alone, far from these two warm and impetuous young souls whose company he appreciated so much. Because Castiel would have saved them many times, but their death was inescapable, inherent to their condition of human. Just as immortality was inseparable from angels, such as Castiel.
A solution to this infinite loneliness did exist, but to consider it was contrary to all the principles he had been told for millions of years. And yet, once again, the divine rules and commandments were of little consequence in the face of Dean Winchester. So it was while gazing into those deep green eyes that Castiel dared to think of disobedience, of rebellion. To the Fall.
Many unforeseen events occurred, however, and Castiel found himself, as always, at the side of the Winchester brothers, angel again. And the anguish that had left him for a while returned like a big slap in the face.
Castiel took advantage of a lull between two interdimensional cataclysms to finally share his anxieties with Dean. This last blushed violently then fled. The three days where the hunter avoided him like the plague - Castiel had recently learned this expression - seemed to last an eternity for the angel. And this new temporal sensation proved to be horribly unpleasant.
When Dean returned, Castiel felt that his soul was more restless than ever. The angel worried that he had hurt his human in some way. But this last reassured him and, in the intimacy of a room of the bunker, Castiel allowed himself to take Dean in his arms. The angel was terrorized to feel against him the body of Dean evolving at high speed, his cells which died, others which divided, the old age which altered little by little each part of this human already so afflicted. Castiel squeezed him tighter, desperately, and surrounded him with his wings as if to protect him from the time that was passing.
Dean caressed his back gently, to comfort him. Then he moved away a little to look Castiel in the eyes and promised to him that as long as they were together, everything would be fine. The angel felt his eyes tingling and his cheeks warming. He kept his hands tightened on Dean's shoulders, as when he had raised him from perdition to never let him go. And Dean smiled tenderly to him and leaned to kiss him.
It was then, there, his lips against his, that Castiel understood what Dean meant. Nothing had any more influence on them at this moment. No more space, no more time, no more wars, no more deaths. Just a soul and a grace closely intertwined. And love, lots of love.
And Castiel was reassured. Yes, as long as they were together, not even time could stand against them.
The end !
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