Chapter Text
What are you supposed to do when you aren’t even a mere speck of the same person you once were?
When you lose all direction and meaning and suddenly forced to operate with your senses missing, your eyes not only bleeding but gone.
Your body and identity feels like it was ripped away from you, like separating the carbon from the oxygen in the air, all of a sudden you’re not anything at all.
Centuries upon centuries of living, watching, and performing with calculated efficiency and precision all become completely worthless in the blink of an eye. How does someone who’s existed before the existence of time cope with the knowledge that all that effort can be thrown away when a single person decides that they’re bored of you?
Castiel The Angel of Tears and Temperance. Suddenly degraded to something so simple, so straightforward.
Castiel appreciated humans, he found them fascinating and complex. He listened to their troubles, their prayers of hope and worship. Their longings for a better life, to move on from grief stricken times or to have support in abstinence.
He’d listen and pity, how can such a small insignificant person have so many sorrows?
It confused him to wit’s end, so many emotions, with such few years of living?
But being mortal now, he saw why people prayed, why people sought him in times of need, why they believed.
It was because he was a source comfort, someone to turn to when they were conflicted, when no one would listen at the very least they would have someone to talk to, the empty air when they knelt before him in chapels was a sign of relief and acknowledgment.
But what do you do when the only person you can turn to is yourself? And the only person who understands even a fraction of the position you are in is the one that turned you away?
What else is there to do than accept your fate and understand that you are of no value?
The wind blew into his unkept hair, the breeze drying out his eyes as his head lolled down, staring down at the shallow rocky stream below.
The sound of the tide smashing against the rock pulling him back to reality. The sun is blinding against the water, like it’s looking right through him, beckoning him to join the current.
Except Castiel has never seen anything this clear, the river or the war in his head, he couldn’t tell.
The original plan was to let the tide consume him but he couldn’t ruin the crystal water, he couldn’t possibly taint its flow with this disgusting retched body, couldn’t contaminate the crisp water with sticky, smelly crimson he can’t ruin another thing
With heavy legs, Castiel willed himself away from the river and stood propped up against a tree in a cold wet forest, the river far from eyes view but not far enough to be out of earshot
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The familiar angel blade was a comforting weight hidden in his skin, but now, being a human where he usually stored his blade had gone a violent purple hue.
I guess humans don’t usually have a huge chunk of angel killing metal up their arm
However hard he tried, our darling protagonist felt the pain of walking from the bunker all the way to… hey… where actually is he? Doesn’t matter anyway, nothing will in a couple of minutes.
The pain of his body weight crashing down on a small pressure point did Castiel in. The branches made an audible sound as they got crushed beneath his knees and his knees ached as the branches defied him and stabbed into his skin.
Looking down at his right arm, the loose skin was really apparent and he could feel gusts of wind blowing in and out of the gap. Maybe he could just stick the angel blade back in?
“…ugh i guess not” After pathetically trying to no avail to shove the blade up into his skin and have it fall out time and time again, covered in countless coats of the same coppery scent he himself is made of. He didn’t know what else to do.
Wait.
No.
He knows what he has to do.
“Ha…” He let his head loll down as the angel blade resided in his blood covered palm.
“I’m sorry… If there’s anyone up there that’s still listening… Gabriel? Naomi? I’m sorry i failed you, I’m sorry I’m so weak. I’m sorry i wasn’t a better brother… I can’t get anything right, why do I always have to mess things up? FATHER WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS?”
“Well I guess it doesn’t matter anyway does it?” Castiel muttered, forcing his leaking eyes open (when did it start raining?) he’s tired of running.
The sound of the nearby river calms his nerves, he imagines the cool tide of the water crashing over him, something like the cool metal of the angel blade.
He imagines laying down in the river, letting the waves wash over him, he feels a sharp sting in his right temple (it must be a fish biting him, how cute) then there’s a stronger pressure (a pebble might’ve hit him, it’s ok, it’s only a pebble) and he feels the water change temperature, it feels a little thicker and sticker especially the area around his head (hmm? it must be around the afternoon where the sun is at its summi-) his imaginary river turns black