A/N: Hello, my darlings. Thank you thank you thank you for your support and reviews. They make my stressed-out-mom-brain happy :D
As an angel of the Lord, there were few things in Heaven and Earth that could surprise Castiel.
Dean Winchester was one of those things. He was a constant puzzle to Castiel, pushing against God's plan when he should have embraced his role. Yes, humans had been put on the Earth to be tested, to find their free will and use it to choose sides—God or the devil. But he had never met anyone who used that precious gift in such a self-defeating way.
How it made sense to go against God and expect to win was beyond Castiel's comprehension. And he was an angel. He was supposed to comprehend the mysteries of the world.
Yes, Dean Winchester was one of the surprises Castiel had encountered since he had moved out of a passive role in Earth's affairs into a more active one. That was a given at this point. And now, this Time Lord was a second surprise.
In hindsight, Castiel shouldn't have been surprised by the vast knowledge and secrets locked away inside the mind of a Time Lord. While Castiel knew much about Heaven and Earth, Heaven only had jurisdiction over humanity. Other species had their own heavens and hells, their own gods, their own beliefs. And so, there was no reason for an angel to know anything about other life forms—except when they crossed humanity.
The angels as a whole knew of the Doctor, of course. He had interfered in Earth's affairs often enough to be a known entity. He wasn't considered dangerous, not really, because his interference often led to Earth's liberation from outside forces. He was, however, considered to have the potential for danger, especially since he had an affinity for humanity that could get in the way of the plans for the Apocalypse.
However, it was one thing to know of someone and another thing entirely to know someone.
The first thing Castiel was struck by was the pure despair he could feel emanating from the Doctor. It permeated every inch of his consciousness—an awareness of his guilt in destroying his people, a heaviness when he thought of the war he had seen and the loss he had endured. That despair seeped into every piece of the Doctor's being, influencing his decisions.
It occurred to Castiel in that moment that such a being would oppose the end of the world with every fiber of his being, refusing to lose one more home, even if it was not the place where he'd been born. And this… this would be a problem.
And yet Castiel couldn't help but sympathize. It was completely understandable that the Doctor would feel this way. And it made perfect sense that Dean would be friends with this alien. Castiel could only hope that the Doctor wouldn't turn around and infect Dean even more with an anti-Apocalypse outlook. Castiel already had his work cut out for him, after all.
At the same time that Castiel was flooded with the Doctor's essence, he could feel his own essence similarly flooding the Doctor. His long life, his knowledge of his purpose, of God's Plan… Perhaps the Doctor could learn something from that and help win Dean over. If he could only see that this was what was best for the world…
Ah, but then, that would be a miracle.
Finally, Castiel was able to focus through the fog of being lost in the Doctor's essence to remember what he was there for. The centuries that had stretched before him and the ramifications of the Doctor's positions had distracted him, and that on its own was enough to surprise Castiel. He was an angel; he was supposed to be perfect.
Castiel really was getting too distracted by Dean Winchester and his ongoing stubbornness. It was becoming a problem.
He pushed aside his peripheral concerns and instead focused on combing the Doctor's consciousness for the source of the problem. The temptation to explore the Doctor's mind was strong, but he was an angel. He wasn't supposed to be tempted. And besides, he had already indulged himself long enough. If he had truly kept himself unspotted from temptation, he would have gone right to the problem without even the briefest pause of exploration.
Earth and the Winchesters were making him soft; that much was increasingly clear. And that simple fact bothered him more than Castiel could say.
Still, he knew he would lose the Winchesters' trust entirely if he didn't do anything to help the Doctor, so he pressed forward until he found the weeping angels' presence in the Doctor's mind. It was subtle and well-contained, and he couldn't help but smile when he saw the telepathic protections in place. He recognized instantly what angel had stepped in to save the Doctor's mind. No one but Deborah did work like that.
It had been a long time since Castiel had seen any sign of Deborah. She had chosen to Fall years ago, which was not very long in the lifespan of an angel but long enough to grow into a person with their own ideas and choices and beliefs in human years. Because she was Fallen, he wasn't supposed to look for her, but he had always wondered what had happened, what had made her decide to Fall when they were so close to the final victory.
Seeing her fingerprints in the Doctor's mind, though, and hearing the story Dean had to tell about what had happened with the weeping angels, Castiel was starting to get an idea of what had happened. The Winchesters were a force unto themselves, and so was the Doctor. Both at once to an angel who didn't have enough background to resist the temptation… Well. Castiel could understand it. He'd felt the same temptation, the same desire for choice.
Not that he approved of Falling, of course. But he was coming to understand it a little better.
He pushed aside thoughts of Deborah and Falling and traced over her work in the Doctor's mind. Her miracle was excellent; it had just cast too wide a net. The weeping angel was escaping because there were too many other memories tied up in the adventure the Doctor had shared with Dean. She couldn't have hoped to keep all of those memories contained at once.
This would have been easier if the Doctor had simply regenerated, because the process would purge the weeping angel as well. But Castiel had come to expect that every task on Earth would be more difficult than necessary. Earth was like that.
But he didn't have to worry about an entirely new miracle, so he could instead refine the focus on Deborah's. That would also work.
Castiel concentrated until Deborah's careful handiwork was concentrated only on the weeping angel itself, not on the memories associated with it. It was hard work, and he felt drained and exhausted after the fact, but the angel was contained—better than it had been before, anyway.
He was too tired to look around the Doctor's mind anymore, either, so he backed out of the telepathic connection, even taking a few steps back in the physical world as he recovered his senses and nearly backed into Dean.
"Woah, hey, Cas," Dean said, catching him at the elbow. "You alright?"
In an unguarded moment, Castiel almost smiled at the simple gesture of concern and care. Humans could be so multifaceted—Dean in particular. He could go from fighting to gentleness in the blink of an eye.
Maybe that was why Castiel was so fascinated by him.
"I'm fine," Castiel said, straightening up. "The Doctor's mind is simply a maze."
"I could have told you that," Dean said, though he still looked concerned as he glanced between the Doctor and Castiel. "So… what's the story?"
"I fixed the shield he had before," Castiel explained. "He should be able to remember all of it freely. He simply won't remember the immediate reason for what happened—namely, that the weeping angel entered his mind. He'll understand it as an infection, nothing more."
Donna frowned. "Are you sure—"
"He'll be fine," Castiel said, even as the Doctor reached out to put a hand on Donna's arm, confirming what Castiel was saying. But he was tired, and he needed some space to think about everything he had seen—and to consider what he would even say to his superiors that wouldn't bring some calamity down on the people (and alien) before him. So, he let out a breath, tipped his chin up—and simply vanished before anyone could ask him any more questions.