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“Dean!” Castiel stared up into the strained green eyes above him and couldn’t help but reach out to take his hand. He grabbed Dean’s arm tightly as he stared at his hunter, trying to etch every detail he can into his brain before he does what he’s been planning for months.
“Dean…” it takes all his will to push the man’s hand away, “Go!”
The look that follows will no doubt haunt Castiel forever, the confusing and pain and panic. When the portal closes and takes Dean with it, it’s quiet.
‘Deafeningly quiet’ is a phrase Castiel had never had the occasion to use up until this point. The leaves of the dark trees rustled in the wind, the noises of the forest carrying on as if Castiel’s world hadn’t just crumbled around him.
He stares at first, at the spot where his friend had been seconds before. The fact that the portal closed when it did confirmed his suspicions: it doesn’t work for angels. Castiel was too close, so it snapped shut.
Good, he thought, not really processing what was good. He turned around and was able to take a step before his knees gave out and he sank into the gravel. He covered his hands with his eyes and breathed deeply.
He allowed himself five seconds. Five seconds to will his mind numb, to refuse to feel anything. Five seconds to mentally build a wall against the human emotions that were still so foreign to him that he knew were going to soon crash down on him.
He only got four. A loud noise crashed near him, and the loud shout of Leviathan filled the emptiness. When Castiel’s eyes snapped open, he was angry. Angrier, probably, than he’d ever been. Angrier than when Dean wanted to say yes to Michael. Angrier than when God left them.
He dropped his angel blade from his sleeve and turned to the quickly materializing monster. When it stood fully formed in front of him, it hesitated a moment before attacking. Maybe there was something in the angel’s eyes.
Castiel took it as an advantage, stepping forward and swinging violently at it. It ducked, effectively dodging Castiel’s attack, and spinning so Castiel’s back was to it. It lunged forward, but Cas was ready, and it only took a second for him to kick in a circle behind him, knocking the monster off its footing, and hover over it as it sprawled on the ground.
It only took three hacks of his blade to cut the head clean off the body. Castiel kicked the head far from the corpse and looked down in disgust at the monster. He was still angry, so angry and he didn’t know why. This wasn’t what he expected. After months of traveling with Dean and mentally building up what it would be like to be alone in this world, he expected sadness, loneliness. Not anger.
But the scenery soon changed as Castiel flew to a new location, and the anger that was bubbling inside his gut came out in sharp attacks against the many, many trees that surrounded him. He yelled, slicing and stabbing at bark. Spinning on each one like he would a leviathan, aiming to kill.
When he finally stopped, he assessed the damage he’d caused to the surround plants. He ran a hand over one of his victims, finding slight comfort in the sharp ridge where his blade made contact across its trunk.
Then he was somewhere else, the violent anger gone, replaced by some different kind of anger.
There are different types of anger?! Castiel thought angrily.
He stood rooted where he was and focused on his breath.
“It’s okay,” he tried saying to himself. He’d known humans often talked to themselves in an attempt to comfort anxious or angry thoughts. It worked a little, so he continued.
“I had to… It’s okay, it’s what was right. He’s safe. Dea-“ his breath hitched at the name, and he tried again, “Dean Winchester is safe... He’s home, he’s alright.. I had to, I had to, I had to. He’s safe he’s home he’s safe. I deserve this, I earned this, he’s safe, it’s alright, it’s okay, he’s safe.”
It was having the opposite effect now, his voice rising at the words that came spilling out of his mouth, his anger at himself rising far above his mind’s desire to comfort himself. He was pacing through the trees, running his hands through his hair and trying everything to believe what he was saying.
“Its okay!” he yelled at himself, desperately trying, “Dean is safe, Dean is home, that’s all that matters. I can’t go back I don’t deserve to go back he’s okay it’s okay he’s home!”
“He’s safe!” with a vicious throw of his arm, Castiel's blade sunk to the hilt in a nearby tree. Even the forest went quiet at the sudden outburst, the leaves stilling and stirring coming to an end.
And then it came. The sadness and loneliness he’d expected from the moment Dean told him of the portal. But much, much worse than what he expected. So much worse, because now it was real, and it was there, and it wasn’t going anywhere.
“He’s gone…” he whispers into the forest, the total, horrible reality of it coming out in a single two word sentence. He’s gone and he’s never going to see him again. He’s left alone in a world full of monsters to repent.
He flew again to another location. A beach, the same beach where Dean had found him almost a year earlier, had hugged him, and complimented his facial hair. Castiel wishes he’d hugged him back.
He sat on the shore, legs crossed and in the water, not caring that his pants were submerged. He stared at his reflection in the water and could barely make out the blue of his eyes. The water’s surface moved slow and steady, without knowledge that the man sitting on the beach is alone, more alone than he’d ever been and more alone than he’d ever thought was possible.
Ripples suddenly disturbed the smooth flow of water from something dropping into it. Momentarily confused, Castiel looked up at the sky to see if it was raining. He saw it wasn’t, which was anything but surprising as it never rained in purgatory, but he did feel something run down his cheek. He lowered his head and reached a hand up to wipe the droplet of water from his face.
He looked down at his hand and broke. Tears. Crying. That was new. But new wasn’t always good, and Castiel lowered his hand and clutched his stomach. He bent forward, allowing the new emotion and action to overtake him. He cried silently, letting each tear run down his face and into the water below, disturbing the steady waning of the lake.
Rightfully so, Castiel thought. Nothing should be beautiful today, nothing should be calm and relaxing and emotionless. Everything is chaotic, everything is painful, and everything ends with violence.
He cried because he was alone. He cried because he’d never again get the chance to fly to a Winchester’s aid or watch television.
He cried because he was crying, this terribly human thing he had never experienced before. He cried because these stupid emotions couldn’t be worse than any pain a knife could inflict.
He cried because this is what he deserved. He cried because even if he lived forever in this world full of monsters, he could never truly pay for everything he’d done.
He cried for his lost hunter. He cried at the fact that his bright eyes and freckles were already starting to fade from his memory. He cried because he wouldn’t be there in his world to protect him or hear his laughter as his pop culture ignorance.
He cried because he was sure he was going to feel this way for the rest of existence.
He cried because he was alone.