Just a ridiculously short drabble about Samandriel, everyone's favorite baby angel. I would've written more but I just got to this place I couldn't pull myself from. I love how it started, but it got to a place I didn't want.

Too Much Heart

When he woke up that morning, a peaceful Tuesday morning in September: he was Alfred Rogers, employee to Wiener Hut, the largest selling fast food corporation west of Texas. Sometimes nicknamed Alfie, but only when he liked the person. Jenny could call him Alfie as long as the stars came up at night, Josh, on the other hand...

When he was pierced through the chest, dead against the side of a 1967 Chevy Impala, he was Samandriel, new angel extraordinaire. A conformed believer in the leader who went by the name of Castiel. He'd been taught, when his wings were just the size of a fist and the pain was fresh, that Castiel was the one who would do the sky good. Castiel would change Naomi for the better. Castiel would bring the new dawn. But in his final moments, as he searched those bright blue eyes for some truth, he was only let down.

Those eyes offered no safety, for the knife came at his hand. The hand of the Angel Castiel.

Alfie was not to know his fate that cold Tuesday morning; he only knew that Wiener Hut was boring and the words whispered in his ears seemed nice and comforting. "Alfred..." It whispered, "Accept Samandriel's offer. Become the vessel to a follower of the new rebellion."

And what was better than a possible angelic adventure? Certainly not working at Wiener Hut for the rest of his crummy existence. So, he said yes in a flash and here he was, sitting back seat to the cutest angel in the garrison as his body was ridden all around town. He saw things, heard things that he never believed he'd witness. Life as an angel was not the gift he'd pictured.

"Too much heart was always Castiel's problem."

There were two boys that Samandriel found were just as they'd been prophesied: they were good. The Winchester brothers showed a kindness that the Angel Samandriel had yet to know. The older one, Dean, mourned the loss of Castiel in a way he'd never expected. Castiel had hurt them, he'd ruined everything, and this boy was willing to hold him up on a pedestal and cry over his lost body? This was not the response Samandriel had expected.

There were some that believed in Castiel, indeed. He, Samandriel, was one of them. He'd torn down the walls in his mind and remade himself over from the vision Naomi had proselytized. Samandriel was born anew and the lord he prayed to was Castiel. Castiel will save us all.

Castiel was not as he'd imagined. When he first appeared, all flushed skin and wide-eyed, Samandriel had dared not hope. Hope was too much to hold onto, but this Castiel whispered words that restored his beliefs. "You're safe now."

They were safe and he would lead them to the destruction of Naomi and all she stood for. But, minutes later, the knife plunged through his stomach and he doubled over, mouth agape.

The doubt surfaced at the last possible moment. Alfie regretted his choice. Samandriel was betrayed by his hero. The pair fell in symmetry, matching bodies dying in one curled up ball. They knew not of Castiel's hold on them. Of the regret that would surface and the confusion in his heart. They only knew death and the blank white space that surrounded it.

"Too much heart was always Castiel's problem."