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Castiel stared at the little bird perched on his hand. He remembered Metatron cutting out his grace, he remembered falling from Heaven, he remembered the burning as his wings were torn off and he became human. Anna had found a way to be born as a human, but Castiel didn’t know how to do that. Instead, he was just… human. Perhaps it had something to do with him having a vessel, one that was empty. Anna hadn’t had that. She’d needed a body to be created for her, and bodies were usually only created as infants.
He hadn’t expected this, though. He was familiar with daemons, of course, the outward expression of a human’s soul. As an angel, Castiel did not have a soul, therefore Castiel should not have a daemon. But, again… Anna Milton had a daemon, until she took her grace back. Castiel wondered now what had happened to the daemon then. Had it, as Anna Milton’s soul, gone to Heaven? Or had it, as an angel’s creation, been destroyed and sent to oblivion? Did it truly exist?
Castiel reached out and touched the bird’s feathers with his free hand. This daemon certainly felt like it existed. It felt like part of him. “What are you?”
I’m your daemon. It didn’t speak aloud, instead projecting its thoughts directly into Castiel’s head. Castiel stared at it. I only know what you know. I can only tell you things you already know. You’d have to ask your Father or perhaps one of the elder angels who are left if you want to know more.
“Right. What do I do now?”
You call Sam or Dean. You ask them to come get you. You find some food. Castiel’s stomach growled, concrete proof that Castiel was no longer an angel and would have to eat and sleep and urinate and all that other stuff he’d never bothered with before. The thought terrified him. He started walking.
At a closed convenience store, he found a phone, and after a quick debate with himself, called Dean. If Hell was still open, that meant that either Sam had failed the trial or quit; if Sam had closed off Hell, then he was dead. Either way, he was likely in no shape to help Castiel any more than Castiel could help him right now.
Dean picked up. “Cas! Thank god, man, where have you been? Sam’s in real bad shape. He needs you.”
“I can’t help him, Dean. Metatron tricked me. He cut out my grace. I’m human now.”
“Okay. Okay, uh, in that case, I can’t leave Sam, so… where are you?”
“I’m not sure. One minute…” Castiel looked for something that would tell him where he’d landed. “I’m in Wyoming.”
“Figures. Okay. Access to money?”
Castiel hesitated. He didn’t like the thought of stealing, but on the other hand, he didn’t have much choice. He’d always ignored the fact that the Winchesters lived by credit card fraud and various levels of theft and gambling. “Some.”
“All right. Get yourself a bus ticket as close to the Bunker as you can. I got Sam here at the Bunker. He’s in a coma, but he’s stable, and with you out… any idea who’d be willing and able to help him out?”
“I don’t know. I can hear Angel Radio, but I can’t send, and I won’t receive prayer. I know that several angels died in the fall. I know there’s a lot of anger out there directed at me. I don’t know who I can still trust. If you have to, if it will save Sam, you can trade me.”
“No, man, we’ll find another way. You really have no idea who we can trust?”
Castiel shook his head, closing his eyes and trying to focus on individual voices. It was a cacophony, but his daemon moved to sit on his head. It helped him focus. He followed one voice back to its source, a voice who was arguing that Castiel was, more than ever, the person the angels needed, because of his extensive time on Earth recently. “Hannah. Pray to Hannah. Tell her that you’ll give her me if she’ll heal Sam.”
“Cas, I told you…”
“Hannah won’t hurt me or give me to those who will. Whatever she asks of me, it’s worth it to save Sam.”
Dean sighed. “All right. You sure about this, man?”
“Yes.”
The bus was extremely slow and confining, and Castiel cursed every second of the trip. He wanted to get to Kansas as quickly as possible. When he finally got off the bus, his daemon guided him to a pay phone. He called Dean. “I’m here.”
“Good. Hannah’s closing in. You gonna recognize her so that you can run if she’s trapping you?”
“I doubt it. I don’t know what vessels any of the angels will be taking. I trust her, though.”
“So you keep saying. Just remember what happened last time you trusted an angel, okay? Be careful.”
“I will.” Castiel hung up to wait for Dean.
A woman walked up to him. “Castiel? Is that you?”
“Who are you?”
“Hannah. I came here to meet Dean Winchester, I thought, but if you’re here already…”
Castiel took a step away from her. “I’m here, but I am not going to go with you yet. You must know what Dean was asking in exchange.”
“The only thing that could drive Dean to the desperation needed to contact an angel and ask for help. Save Sam.”
“Until Sam is saved, I will not help you. Trust me: you do not want to make an enemy of Dean Winchester, especially not a Dean Winchester who’s fighting to save his brother, and that’s what will happen if you don’t do this.”
Hannah stared at him, but she nodded. They waited in silence for Dean to arrive.
On the way to the Bunker, Dean started the lecture. “You know, a lot of this could have been avoided if you’d just trusted me and Sammy with the angel tablet.”
“No. Metatron wrote the tablet; Kevin couldn’t have translated it fast enough to keep me from falling for his tricks. I know you’re angry with me for taking the tablet and running, for ignoring Naomi's warnings, but that’s no longer important. Metatron has the tablet and he can read it without a prophet’s help. The angels have fallen to Earth. How’s Sam?”
“He’s gotten worse. If it weren’t for the fact that I knew help was on its way, I’d probably have broken and taken him to a hospital. Not much they could do before, but maybe now that the Trials are over, maybe there’s something.”
Castiel followed Dean to Sam’s room, his daemon perched on his shoulder, wings twitching. As soon as Dean opened the door, the daemon flew off Castiel’s shoulder to sit as close to Sam as he could without actually touching him. Dean shot Castiel a what-the-fuck look, and all Castiel could do was shrug.
Sam’s daemon, a snake, was coiled limply around one arm. It perked up a bit when it saw Castiel, tongue flicking out in greeting, as always. Castiel wanted so badly to reach out to it, but he knew better. His daemon, on the other hand, had no reason to avoid Sam’s, and hopped close enough to rub its beak over the snake’s head.
Hannah reached out, putting a hand to Sam’s head. “He’s weak. Very weak.”
“But you can save him, right?” Dean said.
“I can try. I was injured in the fall, but I’ll do what I can for him.” Hannah closed her eyes, and Castiel wished he hadn’t messed this up so badly. Not being able to help Sam hurt him worse than falling had. Hannah opened her eyes and looked at Dean. “He’s fighting me on this. With your permission, I can send you in there to talk to him, tell him I’m trying to save him for you and Castiel.”
“Do it.” Not long after, Sam recovered enough to open his eyes. Dean grabbed his hand. “Dammit, Sammy, don’t scare me like that!”
“Dean. I can’t do this now. I’m too weak. Once I’ve had a chance to recover, though, you and me need to talk.”
“Yeah, whatever, just get yourself recovered, okay? I can’t do this shit without you.” Dean turned and walked out of the room.
Hannah patted Sam’s shoulder. “I’ve done all I can. It’s possible that later, I can do more, but I need to rest first.”
“Thanks. Don’t worry about me, I’m not dying anymore, I’ll recover on my own now. Hannah, right? I really appreciate this.”
Hannah smiled at him. “Thank Castiel. He’s the one responsible.” She turned away from Sam. “Castiel, you owe me.”
“Yes. I do.” Castiel glanced over at Sam, wishing he could stay and look after his friend, but he had promised Hannah.
“I’m working on gathering any angel who is still willing to listen to your guidance. There are already factions arising, led by various angels, and I intend to lead one of these factions in your name. We’re organizing in Lincoln. In a few days, I should have enough to form a good core. Come speak to them. Help guide them in how to focus on the real issue instead of assigning blame and fighting amongst ourselves. We need to stand against Metatron and take back Heaven. Many angels won’t follow your leadership, but they will follow your guidance under my leadership.”
“Okay. What do I do while you wait for others to join you?”
Hannah shrugged. “I would recommend you stay here. This Bunker is warded against angels. I felt it the second I stepped inside. You’ll be safe here, I know where to find you,” Hannah paused and glanced at where Castiel’s daemon and Sam’s daemon were curled up together, “and I suspect that this is exactly where you want to be anyway.”
“Yes. It is. Thank you. When you’re ready for me, I will come.” Hannah left, leaving Castiel and Sam alone to watch their daemons. “Is this… normal behavior? Your daemon and Dean’s rarely do this.” Only when one of them was dying or just back from the dead, or had gotten too close for comfort. Like now, come to think of it. “I’m surprised Dean left so quickly. What’s wrong?”
“He’s mad at me for thinking of choosing to die after all, I’m mad at him for expecting everything to be fixed with a nice speech and not even a real apology in there. He wants to just sweep it under the rug like we always do, and I’m thinking that’s how I end up wondering what the big deal about me dying to finish the Trials is. I won’t let him drop it but I’m too weak to fight it out, so avoiding each other is the best thing until I’m stronger.” Sam held his hand out to his daemon, which flicked its tongue out in acknowledgement but refused to leave Castiel’s. “Dunno what’s going on with her. This isn’t really normal behavior aside from lovers. Which… I mean, I could understand mine harassing yours, they’re not exactly subtle, but…”
Castiel watched their daemons. “That makes sense then.”
“It does?”
“You don’t seem surprised by the behavior of your daemon, and I’m not at all surprised by the behavior of mine now that I know what they’re doing. It would also explain Hannah’s comments.”
“I thought she meant Dean. Profound bond and all, and you'd want to be with your friends. Why would Hannah know about the behavior of daemons?”
“Her vessel still has a soul, therefore the daemon still exists even though it’s suppressed. It could explain the odd behavior to her.”
“So you’re human now? You have a daemon…”
“Yes. Metatron tricked me and took my grace for a spell. The other angels have simply fallen from Heaven; I’ve become human.”
“Wow. Definitely a good thing you’re here, then, Dean and I can help you get used to it all. Have you slept yet?”
“No.”
“Come here.” Castiel hesitated, and Sam smiled softly at him. “You look exhausted, and I think our daemons might rebel if you tried to separate them by going anywhere else.”
Castiel lay down stiffly beside Sam, who curled up against him. “Close your eyes. Let everything go. Just relax. Let yourself drift off.”
Castiel did his best to obey, and Sam’s gentle humming helped him as he let his body rest.