Finals are over! *celebrates* I think I survived them all right, though I'm gonna have to wait a whole while for the results ugh! Oh well, who cares as long as I finally have time to write fan fiction yayyy! ^_^ I also wanted to thank all of you for the lovely reviews I've received since the last chapter, thank you so much for all the support :)
Here's a longer chapter for you to make up for the long while you had to wait ;) Thanks as always to Heaven's Eagle for betaing, hope you like it!
At first sight Castiel found himself to be very suspicious of the empty warehouse he had just appeared in. It was quiet, cold and deserted, normally not unusual for a place like this – if it weren't for the presence that had called him here.
He had felt the call of the familiar grace reach out to him, unsure of how to react to it. No form of angelic contact was safe for him at the moment, for they were all subject to the order of delivering him to Raphael. Yet in light of the otherwise trusting familiarity of that specific angel, he had decided to come despite his doubts.
It didn't make him feel much safer however.
"Castiel," he heard the female voice of the Rachel's vessel speak behind him.
He turned around to face her and instantly canvassed her surroundings to assure himself that this wasn't a trap. "You summoned me here?" he asked uncertainly.
She nodded slowly. "I need to talk to you."
Castiel glanced to the side again, taking in the empty surroundings. There was no one here but her, for now at least. "You're alone?" Even if he could tell himself, he wanted her assurance of it.
Rachel gave him a strange look, offering one of the seldom hints at an emotional display, which all angels so rarely succumbed to. "Nobody else knows I'm here," she said. "I would never betray you in such a way." She bowed her head, trying to conceal the fact that she was offended he would even consider such a possibility.
The superior angel let a brief flicker of fondness cross his features before resuming his normal, ineloquent expression. "Of course," he stated. "My apologies."
Lifting her head back up again, Rachel stepped closer to him, moving only mere inches out of his personal space. A space that he now knew existed after Dean had made sure to remind him of it several times. The angel's grey eyes showed the same amount of confusion and helplessness that he had seen in her before he had decided to leave heaven. It almost served to make him regret his decision.
"Why did you leave?" she asked almost desperately. "Why didn't you stand up to Raphael?"
Castiel sighed, trying to think of a way to explain. He had so badly hoped that his flight hadn't caused her to think he had abandoned her. "Rachel, I did stand up to him," he said. "I… I just didn't want it to be in vain."
"In vain?" Rachel asked disbelievingly. "Why would it be in vain if you choose to follow God's will?"
"You and I both know he would have killed me if I stayed, sister," Castiel responded sadly, blue eyes giving way to his increasing regret. "A good friend made me realize… That it makes more sense to go on."
The other angel briefly averted her gaze, an unusual edge coloring her voice. "And that friend is Dean Winchester."
Castiel frowned at her accusing tone. "What?"
"Everyone knows you prefer the company of that peculiar human above all of your own kin."
Before Castiel even had a chance to respond, Rachel's grey eyes widened in shock, as if she had only just consciously realized what she had said to her superior. She instantly took a few steps back and bowed her head courteously.
"Forgive me," she whispered, her voice now sounding incredibly abject as she awaited his reaction.
Castiel understood her behavior perfectly well, for if any other angel had allowed himself to speak his mind so openly toward his superior as she had just done, the respective superior would not hesitate to issue severe consequences. But what could he really say to her? To punish any type of disobedience would put him in a laughably hypocritical situation as he was somewhat of a model of disobedience himself, not to mention the fact that such an action would go against everything he now believed in. Besides, he wasn't even sure he was still allowed to execute any form of punishment as his status as an outlaw and fugitive toward his own home hardly made him her superior anymore.
"Rachel," he started again, deciding to ignore her resentment towards Dean and return to the issue at hand. "I need you to understand that I did not abandon you."
Rachel lifted her head in surprise and stared at him for a long moment. Apparently the amount of change he had gone through since his first rebellion against heaven still wasn't something she was used to. Within a few moments the surprise in her eyes disappeared and was replaced by something resembling… awe. Awe and devotion and love.
Castiel was not comfortable with this. He did not deserve awe or devotion simply because he hadn't carried out an act of punishment toward his subordinate which seemed absurd to him anyway. Therefore he decided to ignore it as well.
"I am not abandoning you," he repeated adamantly. "I am still fighting, I do not want Raphael to succeed, but… I don't know how."
The last words escaped his mouth in a fleeting whisper and he saw Rachel's gaze soften in compassion and understanding at the confession. It was clear just from the look in her eyes that she did not doubt the truth behind his words for a second.
"Then I will help you," she decided confidently. "Whatever you decide, I will stand behind you."
"Thank you," Castiel said softly, gratitude shining honestly from his bright eyes.
Rachel nodded curtly, as if it were self-evident.
During a brief moment of silence, Castiel pondered over the possibilities that it would bring him to have Rachel on his side. It would no doubt be helpful to have a source inside heaven so he would no longer be cut off and on his own, but other than that he didn't think it changed the situation much. It still kept him hopelessly vulnerable toward Raphael and anyone that was on his side.
"We will need help," Rachel voiced after a while, as if she had been following the same train of thought. "Perhaps the rest of the garrison…"
"Do you think they will still support me?" Castiel asked, though his hopes were slim.
"I cannot tell," Rachel responded sadly. "It will not be easy to convince them… Most of them are under the impression that… you…"
"Abandoned them," Castiel finished her sentence with a sigh. "I can't blame them. I wish I had had time to explain before leaving…"
He could recall Hester's indignant gaze only too well.
"I will talk to them," Rachel declared with finality. "Once they know your reasons they have to know you are still following your truthful path."
Her passion made him want to smile, for it reminded him of the wonderful feeling of excitement he had experienced upon his return to heaven. But it also scared him, because it was only too clear to him what Raphael would do to anyone who was trying to help him.
"Be careful," he told her, unable to keep the worry from his voice. "Raphael…" He couldn't bring himself to say anything further, but he knew that she understood the risks of what she was doing. Otherwise she would never have decided to stand behind him.
"I will," she nodded.
After a soft flutter of wings, which accompanied her departure, Castiel found himself standing on his own within the empty warehouse.
. . .
Dean couldn't take it anymore. He simply could not do this anymore.
After a particularly horrifying set of nightmares, which had ripped him wide awake at two thirty in the morning and wiped out all possibility of ever going back to sleep again, he had hauled himself out of bed and descended down into the living room. But somehow that had only made it worse, for the giant, ever-similar house was starting to suffocate him. It was always the same, every frickin' day! So different from the life he was used to living – the life that had never kept him in the same spot for too long, always on the move halfway across the country and never settling down.
So he had decided the unthinkable, something that he had forbidden himself from doing after moving in here with Lisa and Ben. He had stalked into the garage in the middle of the night and ripped the giant canvas off his shimmering and magnificent baby. She had looked the same as she always had; tough, badass and all around gorgeous. He had got behind the wheel and relished the feeling the familiar leather and interior of the car brought forth within him, awakening the deep seeded truth that there was no place he belonged more in the entire world.
Careful not to rev up the engine too loudly to not wake up the boy and woman that were still asleep inside the house, he had took off down the street and drove his way out of town, driving somewhere, anywhere besides there.
He had thought that the familiar feeling of driving his beloved Impala and blasting his favorite tunes in the middle of the night, as he had done countless times in his life, would make him somehow feel less empty, less destroyed than he had felt inside that big, unfamiliar house. But he should have known better.
He should have known that the one place he would be reminded more than anything of the giant hole that had been ripped into his existence, was the home that he had lived in his entire life. A home that could never again be a warm and comforting home without the presence of his bigger-than-life brother riding shotgun next to him.
So here he was, driving down inner state in his awesome car, screaming to AC/DC at the top of his lungs and feeling emptier, more irrelevant and nonexistent than ever before.
He couldn't fucking take it anymore.
Suddenly he became incredibly aware of the enormous amount of weapons at his disposal in the back of the car. He had not changed anything about her since moving in with Lisa. All his swords, knives, iron, talismans, holy water, everything… All of them could be put to use if he wanted.
The only question was of course how he would use them.
He hadn't been in the hunter's business for a while now. No one called him anymore to inform him about a possible job. Bobby had seen to that. What would he even do? He couldn't just walk into the woods and look for vampires. It occurred to him briefly that he could go online and google for 'freaky accidents', a thing he had always liked to do even if Sammy had teased him about it.
Sammy.
Of course there was always an entirely different option of use for his tools. Something that would help him get rid of the problem altogether
It wasn't like he had never brought it upon himself before. Maybe he hadn't exactly pulled the trigger, but still it was the same thing. It wasn't like there was something keeping him here, not like he had something to lose. There was nothing left to lose, because everything he was had been swallowed down into that dark abyss and disappeared from the world.
He wasn't even really here anymore. Without Sam he was just a shadow. He might as well be one of those frickin' ghosts himself, then some other hunter would come along and gank him for good measure instead of him having to decide this shit himself.
The decision would have been clear, so fucking clear if it wasn't for that… That promise.
It was the only reason why every time he put his finger on the trigger of his favorite gun that he still kept with him at all times; every time he looked into its barrel… he didn't do it. He couldn't do it.
Fighting his rising feeling of claustrophobia Dean pounded his foot down onto the gas pedal and pushed his roaring and willing baby up toward almost a hundred miles per hour.
He couldn't go to Bobby's, he was avoiding that place for all it was worth, because he knew that everything about it and the old man would bring back even more disastrous memories. But he couldn't just sit here and drive, he needed to fucking kill something, or better yet rip it apart with his bare hands right now or he would go crazy.
He needed something to do because every second he didn't… he had to force himself to not pray to Cas. Force himself not to call upon the angel and take back everything he had said in their last encounter, because he wanted to take the deal more than anything.
Dean Winchester was the worst sort of hypocrite alive. He was very aware of that. He had sat in that car, yelling at his friend for his endless stupidity when in fact every fiber of his own being was screaming for action. He knew making a deal was bullshit, he knew Crowley would abuse the targeted power for all manner of gruesome activity, he knew that something was bound to go wrong with a nuclear reactor like friggin' Purgatory, but the largest part of him didn't care. None of it was important; none of it meant anything to him.
What if Cas had been right? Mabye they really should make that deal with Crowley, it wasn't like they had a whole lot of other options to choose from. He didn't really give a shit about that dick Raphael but if anyone had the power to reopen the cage, it was him.
Millions upon millions of souls, he recalled the angel's words, all of them are trapped there.
He couldn't let his brother's sacrifice be in vain, he just couldn't. So what if the whole fucking world would go up in smoke if he went through with this? The world was worthless anyway without Sammy in it. He might as well decide for a way of destruction that wouldn't include his brother having to lend his body for it. Of the two options, he was absolutely sure of which one he would rather take.
"Damn it!" Dean exclaimed angrily as he slammed the palm of his hand down on the steering wheel, causing the Impala to sway dangerously through the momentum of her enormous speed.
In addition to all the panic and pain threatening to cut off his way of breathing once again, he was now unbelievably pissed at himself. Here he had been basically wailing on Cas for how infinitely stupid he was for even considering a deal with Crowley when he himself was not better in the slightest. What was he even thinking?
He wasn't thinking, that was it. His head had received a giant crack after the horrendous bashing from Lucifer and had never fully healed and now the rest of humanity was paying the price for it. It was as good an explanation as any.
From one second to the next the car was just too much. He couldn't be here any longer, he couldn't breathe, he needed to get out.
Slamming his foot down on brake with the same force as he had done to the gas pedal only minutes ago, he slowed his baby down from her maniacal speed as quickly as he could, maneuvering the roaring and protesting car over to the side of the road. Moments later she came to a screeching halt, enabling him to finally throw open the door and leap out, desperately removing himself from his childhood home.
For a moment the hunter just stood there in silence, planted several feet away from the shining black car with its door still widely ajar. He tried to steady his breathing, fisting his hands in his short hair and pulling to feel something, anything. His throat was slowly clamping up and he noticed that there were violent tremors running through several parts of his body.
Trying to snap himself out of it by raw force Dean quickly stepped forward again and slammed the car door shut, roaring aloud in frustration in synchrony to the clanking metal. He used both his hands to angrily thrust against the car again, only to bring them up to his head again moments later and clasping his temples in agitation.
Don't have a breakdown don't have a breakdown don't have a breakdown.
He paced back and forth next to the Impala, mentally shouting the words at himself. He felt his eyes moistening and his body shaking, expressing the extreme panic that was about to take hold of him.
He came to a stop again behind his car and violently slammed his fists down onto the hood, hitting it again and again.
As he was lashing out for another shot, he suddenly stopped dead in his motions. His knees grew weak and his battered hand curled on the small dent he had made in the top of the trunk. That exact spot where he had hit her.
His baby had now paid the price for his two greatest failures.
Slowly bringing his still extended hand back down, Dean braced himself on the back of the car, trying hard not to let his legs give in. It was all he could do not to sob out loudly into the night.
. . .
Castiel could honestly say that he was extremely nervous.
It had been more than a few days since he had seen Rachel and during that time he had made sure to keep himself hidden, constantly staying on the move and making sure to leave no clues about his whereabouts. He knew that there was nothing he could really do until she could provide him with some information on what was happening in heaven or if by some miracle a solution would suddenly appear out of nowhere. The latter was less than probable.
But now after what had seemed like an eternity to him, he had finally received another call from that same warm and familiar grace, telling him that he would finally get some answers.
He let his wings carry him to its place of origin, a secluded spot beneath a motorway bridge. Upon arrival though the slightly excited buzz of his grace vanished and he froze in his tracks.
Angels, there were so many angels around him. Why were they all here? Had he run into a trap, were they here to kill him? And they weren't just any angels, he realized with relative ease at all the familiarity around him. He certainly hadn't expected to see sixty percent of his garrison here, all surrounding him in a large circle.
He briefly felt a pang of fear flutter within him as he once again contemplated the option that he might have walked into a trap. However he visibly relaxed once he looked upon Rachel's vessel and felt the warmth of affection brush from her presence against his own. He knew from the uneasy and distressed shivers within her grace that complications would still arise, but he trusted her. She would never betray him.
"Castiel." A strict, calculating voice was the first to speak.
The angel slowly turned around to face the blonde woman who had just spoken.
"Hester," he nodded his head in acknowledgement, instantly noticing the high amount of doubt shining from her presence.
"Rachel informs us that you are still on our side," Hester announced, though it was clear from her tone of voice and her appearance that she would not believe such a fact until she had seen it for herself.
"Yes, that is correct," Castiel responded, turning on the spot to look at each of his brothers and sisters separately. Some appeared to be more benevolent toward him than others, but all of them stood together confidently in their tight circle, making it clear to him that they would not let him leave until they had reached their decision. The angel had a feeling that he was about to be put through a thorough interrogation.
"You don't believe me," he realized when he had finally turned back to face Hester.
"No," she agreed. "As of now, I don't."
Castiel felt Rachel's grace behind him shiver once again in anxiety. He braced himself for the questions he was sure would follow.
"This is not the first time you have decided to disappear from heaven without a word of explanation!" she started angrily.
Castiel sighed. "Hester"-
"You turned your back on all of your own kind!" she cut him off with an air of powerful finality. "We didn't know where you were or what was happening! All we were told was that you had betrayed our Father!"
"You know that is not true, sister…" Castiel's voice was calm and earnest, his eyes begging her to understand.
"Do I?" she whispered, her anger now suddenly dissolving and leaving behind nothing but confusion. "I believed when you returned, Castiel. I truly did. You let us all believe that you knew undoubtedly what was God's will. And we would have followed you."
Castiel did not need to look at all the other members of the garrison to know that she was right. He had felt their loyalty himself, known at the core of his being that this was a group of siblings that would follow him anywhere, even if that wasn't exactly what he had wanted to achieve with his speech about free will.
"You were so adamant. So sure that this was exactly what God wanted." She was staring at him intently, as if trying to figure out what was going on inside him. "But how can you be when Raphael so clearly states otherwise?"
And that was when Castiel fully understood her. She was not doubting him. She was not doubting his decision to leaven heaven. She was doubting her own doubts toward the system. She had been trained her entire existence to follow orders towards one single purpose from her superiors, and now that she suddenly found herself with two different directions to chose from, she didn't know what to do.
He knew exactly what was going on inside her, for it had been exactly the way he had felt when he had first met Dean. The first time since his creation having someone who was suddenly questioning everything he knew, everything he had never even thought to scrutinize. He remembered times when he had been flooded with panic, trying to deny everything that Dean had ever told him, because he had been too overwhelmed by the fact that his mind was suddenly working for himself rather than only for orders.
It had been the most terrifying time in his life. Scarier than travelling to hell or losing his grace or even facing Lucifer and Michael. Because he had never doubted himself and everything he stood for as much as during those moments when Dean had tried to convince him to fight for what was right.
He did not wish that feeling on anyone, even if he knew that it was impossible to ever be free from heaven's vice-like grip without going through that process. The least he could do was try to keep any of his kin from going through it alone, as he had been forced to.
"I don't know how I can be so sure," he said softly. "I know all of us were trained to work toward the apocalypse, to think that ultimate paradise is the only way to achieve God's will, but… I still believe in the true purpose of how He placed us."
Castiel felt a slight brush run over him from Rachel's grace again and he knew that she was displaying the same amount of awe and devotion that he knew he did not want. All he wanted was for them to understand his motives for his actions.
"Our Father destined us to protect his most beloved creation, to stand watch over humanity. I don't believe it would ever be within his will to watch millions upon millions of them die, even if it is with the purpose of achieving paradise."
He looked at Hester, who was still staring at him, apparently clinging to his every word.
"That is the reason why I don't want the apocalypse to be fought," he carried on. "But it was foolish of me to believe that every angel in heaven would feel the same way. I have no doubts that… Raphael and whoever follows him will stop at nothing to go through with it."
He sighed inwardly as he remembered Crowley's words toward him. Civil war really seemed unavoidable at this point.
"I don't want to fight any of my brothers and sisters," he said sadly. "But I still believe that freedom is something worth fighting for, so… I will keep on fighting for as long as I can. This is what path I choose, but I cannot tell you what to do. I can't order you."
He looked left and right at the different members of his garrison and then back at Hester. "That is your choice."
A long moment of silence ensued after he had finished speaking. None of the angels seemed sure of what to do with themselves. Hester was now staring at the ground, evidently at a loss for words.
Explaining freedom to angels is a bit like teaching poetry to fish, Castiel suddenly remembered his own analogy. He wondered if any of them even understood the concept of making their own choice.
"I'll stand with you," a clear and confident voice suddenly broke the silence.
Castiel instantly turned to look at Rachel, his grace emanating all the affection and undying gratitude that he felt the moment he heard her speak. Of course she had already declared her loyalty toward him personally, but it was entirely different to do it so confidently before a large group of unsure garrison members.
"So will I," a second voice spoke up moments later and Castiel was surprised and pleased to see Inias take a step forward and give him a warm flash of fondness. "I believe you, brother."
"Me too," another angel beside him, Remiel joined him.
One by one more members of the garrison voiced their loyalty until finally every single one of them except Hester had agreed to join him. All eyes lay on her blonde vessel as she lifted her gaze to contemplate Castiel.
As she looked into his eyes, he noticed that despite some remnants of unease and worry, the doubt had mostly vanished from her expression. Then she nodded.
"I'll fight with you," she declared quietly and Castiel believed her.
Looking around at the most loyal in his garrison who were now all gazing up to him rather than trapping him in their middle, the angel thought that this was the first time since Raphael had left him beaten and bloodied on his favorite field of heaven that he no longer felt alone.