Chapter Text
Castiel hadn’t expected to be so deeply involved with the human world, but then, he had never expected the Winchesters, either. And the Winchesters were nothing if not constantly pulling him into a world he (and his siblings) had left unobserved and uncared for for well over a millennium.
Sometimes, he wondered what the world would be like had heaven played a bigger role in the shaping of humanity… and he considered the first apocalypse and decided that, no, that wasn’t exactly a great idea. And truthfully, the fact of the matter was that his Father had engineered humanity and, therefore, heaven precisely in ways that would ensure humanity’s freedom of choice.
And as Dean and Sam had inculcated within him, ‘Team Free Will for the win.’
The point was, however, that the world was the way it was due to humanity’s choices, and yes, there were multitudes of evil within it, quite a bit of it originating from humans themselves, but there was also far too much good for it to be a coincidence. There were so many humans who impressed even Castiel and his brethren, and that was no easy job, what with them having access to the pure souls of heaven who had done enough good in their lives to deserve greatness in both life and the hereafter.
Regardless, humanity was humanity, but there was one thing about them that did surprise Castiel, and that was, well…
He frowned down at the television and stared at the brothers. “Are you quite sure these people are no monsters?” He asked in concern, because surely humans could not have that much power?
Sam blinked and looked up from his laptop. “Oh, them?” He asked. “No, no, they’re the Avengers. Superheroes.” He huffed a laugh. “Most of them’ve been changed by science. It’s not exactly great, but they’re still humans.”
“’Cept for Thor,” Dean muttered, but he didn’t sound disgruntled, exactly.
“‘Superheroes?’” Castiel asked, disregarding the mention of the Nordic diety, for him, at least, he knew of. “Why have I never heard of them?”
Sam and Dean exchanged confused looks. “Well, we weren’t exactly hiding it,” Sam pointed out. “We just don’t mesh with them. They’re pretty much all over the media if you’ve noticed.”
“And we definitely don’t need the attention,” Dean added. “Already have enough of that.”
Castiel kept frowning. “But what about your battles? If they are enhanced in power and strength, could they not aid you against these monsters? Surely the world would believe you if these figures advocate your belief.”
Dean snorted. “Yeah, right. The first step would be getting to them in the first place, and trust us, Cas, that’d end up with our faces on the web, and we can kiss any possibility of anonymity after that goodbye.”
Sam nodded. “And if they don’t believe us, which is entirely possible, the truth of hunters might get out. And people would be much more careful about who they talk to.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. “I’m used to being hated by the hunting community, but that’ll be the icing on a ten-tier cake.”
“Goddammit, Sammy, now I want a ten-tier cake!”
Sam and Dean broke out into a petty argument, and Castiel immediately zoned out, intent on considering what the brothers had told him. Despite their warnings against reaching out, Castiel was… curious, to say the least. These men and women were, in a way, in the same position as Sam and Dean, working to save humanity from threats others could not face. So what was it about them that made them so media-friendly? So able to rise to the top unashamed and unafraid?
Castiel decided to follow these superheroes’ journey… and then realized that perhaps he had been incorrect and Sam and Dean right all along because as soon as half the team of these international icons of heroism refused to accept the unacceptable demands of those politicians - truly, Castiel could see how these ‘idiots’, to quote Dean, would get along with the angels who engineered the first apocalypse - they were branded international criminals and had to vanish off the face of the planet, still recognizable on a world scale.
Sam and Dean had been correct - outing themselves to these heroes would not have been a good idea.
It was then that Castiel’s attention shifted to one of the lesser known of these heroes, if only because he was possibly the only hero left in America who was open about his heroism (he refused to count the billionaire until he fixed his attitude and remembered what god had intended of humanity - free will. For the accords, and yes, Castiel had read those, were far too damning in the way they snatched away that very right, that very freedom. It did not help that Sam, despite his change and humanity and light, would have counted within those enhanced and forced to either be trapped within a prison on the sea or wear some kind of tracking bracelet that would absolutely destroy him. Castiel refused to let Sam even consider those things, consider the accords, because Dean might easily dismiss them, but Sam was sometimes a little too self-deprecating about his previous actions and danger).
Spiderman.
It took a total of one day for Castiel to figure out the hero was a boy, and by then, he was too invested to consider doing anything to stop it. Because, in essence, the boy, while still being a human child capable of pettiness and wrongs, was an accumulation of the kindness, hope, and optimism that Castiel considered the epitome of humanity. The light that Castiel considered the beauty in their existence. Spiderman was truly good in a way the adult heroes were not because they were jaded in ways Spiderman had yet to experience. There was innocence in him, in fact, that Castiel adored.
(He made sure to carve a few protective sigils around his abode and a few helpful spells that he should not know.)
And then, with Metatron and Abaddon and the Mark of Cain …
Castiel lost track a little bit. Not enough to not notice when half of the world’s population vanished from existence, but enough to be unable to do anything when his favorite superhero was one of those who had disappeared.
And they hadn’t died, no, because the reapers were just as lost as Castiel was, and heaven was far too fractured to do a thing against it.
Living creatures had not just vanished. They had ceased to exist.
But Castiel and Dean and Sam had other things to do, what with the Darkness and Lucifer and his death and Jack–
The world exploded with people again far too late (far too surprisingly), every living creature who had ceased to exist coming back in the time it took to blink. Castiel felt the core of existence shiver and shudder and pull back into place, stretching to accommodate life that it had almost given up on. He could see Reapers scrambling and thrust back into work, for their job became far harsher as soon as it happened, for it was obvious how harrowing the situation was - the world was no longer the same as it had been, with half of humanity gone, Earth had begun to shift and change and welcome back the natural world that it had been pushing aside.
Many, many humans died.
Sam and Dean continued struggling against the Men of Letters, attempting to find a way to bring their mother back from the other dimension.
Castiel took a short break amidst all this to rush to where Spiderman was supposed to be… and found a young boy breaking under the strain of so much loss. Spiderman had lost his mentor, Castiel realized, and that was tearing him up inside as he struggled to stay afloat, to acclimate into a world he hadn’t been a part of for years.
Still, he could not do a thing to help the boy, not unless he revealed himself and Dean and Sam would not like that. And more to the point, Spiderman had his family and his friends to support him.
Castiel just renewed the sigils and the spells on his new home and flew away, hoping it would bring just a little bit of the peace that Spiderman needed.
(He didn’t notice as the boy looked up behind him, eyes narrowing as he swiveled around, looking for the thing that had spiked his ‘tingle’, wondering why he felt nothing more than a warm thrum, wishing he knew why he could feel calm when his world had crumbled down around him. And then May came home, Ned and MJ came over, and Pepper called about Morgan– and everything wasn’t crumbling down, and maybe, he thought, that was what his Peter Tingle had been saying to him on the roof all that while ago. And he remembered, with faint nostalgia, the times when he felt the same warmth all those years ago after he’d met Mr. Stark, when he’d gotten to know the man who had become almost-a-father to him, and he figured that, yeah, his Peter Tingle had a nicer side to it, too.)
Castiel didn’t know this would be the last time he would see this child in a long, long while.
And yet, his own world and his own life were nothing to scoff at, for all his attention then went to Jack and the Apocalypse dimension, especially when he and the Winchesters entered it to save Jack and Mary; and then Lucifer and Michael stood the adversaries they could not fight and with everything that was happening, Castiel couldn’t look away.
As he and Dean and Sam and Jack finally breathed as the dawn broke out on a day without Lucifer or Michael or Demons or anything bigger than the local monster they could all probably vanquish in their sleep at this point, Castiel realized, with a dark understanding, that he could no longer go visit this hero he had declared, in some ways, his, for the world had put upon him a blame he did not deserve and his face was splashed across screens all over the world, his identity revealed not of his own volition. It took both Sam and Dean to force him not to react, to not involve himself in a world that would bring them into a spotlight hunters didn’t need.
The only reason he agreed was that Peter (his name was Peter, and Castiel couldn’t help but wonder if Peter would get along with Jack) had his aunt and his uncle and his best friends at his side every moment of every day and that was more than he could hope for.
Peter was pushing through; Castiel saw from afar, and maybe that was all he needed.
He decided, hands twitching and unable to stop himself from flying toward New York every time his mind wandered, that maybe it was time to help heaven back on its feet, and maybe, this time, he could show Jack, too. He was, after all, the closest thing to an archangel that they had.
Castiel was not gone for more than a year, and yet, when he returned, heaven beginning to settle, and Jack glowing with knowledge and excitement at having spent so much time with Castiel (which, admittedly, made Castiel smile widely as well, though he managed to bring it under control before they met Sam and Dean again), everything was different.
Sam and Dean had obviously settled into a new pattern, with more and more hunters under their management– well, it was more like under Sam’s management, which made sense, considering how much experience the man had accumulated while Dean had been… indisposed after Michael’s escape. Still, according to Dean, who looked both proud and annoyed at that, though he wouldn’t admit the former, Sam had become the newest “Bobby”, and Dean meant their Bobby, not the new one, who had taken the role of a hunter instead. It was easy for them and Castiel, too, to distinguish him from theirs, for they were quite unlike each other in subtle yet glaring ways. Charlie, too, was similar, and though she remained an informant and occasionally hunted something in her way, she wasn’t actively a hunter. Sam still kept up to date with her, though Dean looked like he couldn’t do that.
Castiel didn’t blame him.
Regardless, other than this network of hunters they’d created, Sam had apparently also started bringing the Bunker’s library online, something other Charlie completely approved of, having reignited her love of computers after coming to this world. She would occasionally drop in with a new book or send over a digital scan of items they didn’t have, and suddenly, there was a foundation being built for an online digital library that would help hunters all over the world, according to Sam. He was going to build a whole app, he told Castiel excitedly as they were catching up, and though the major archive would be free access, hunters would be recommended to make accounts which - approved by Sam, for now, and later, hopefully, by admins all over the world, and wasn’t that ambitious? - would allow them access to more specific texts and forums for questions, answers, warnings, and even support groups, though the last one had been shut down by Dean because “No one’s got time for support groups!”
Which was fair, of course, but Sam (privately, because he trusted Castiel to keep it a secret) told him that he was going to build it anyway because with all this trauma hanging around ’em, it was a miracle more hunters didn’t die every day. At least with a support group and forums, the living expectancy might go up. People would be able to deal with creatures they weren’t expecting a little more, at least.
That was just the hunter aspect - there was apparently a monster forum Sam was thinking about but not bringing up quite yet, but Castiel knew his friends, and Sam was a fighter for justice through and through, no matter who (or what) it was for. It was the reason Sam had been so protective of Jack when even Dean had wanted to kill him in the beginning, after all.
But that was just their end of the world.
It took a while, but once he was up to date with the Winchesters, he decided it was time he dropped in to check on Peter Parker. Surely he would be doing better now, right? It had been nearly a year. Peter had to have begun getting used to his fame.
Castiel smiled, left Jack with Dean and Sam, and spread his wings to visit the boy he remembered so fondly–
Then he screeched to a halt in front of an apartment that held no trace of him, a school that had forgotten him, two friends who were gone from New York, and a picture of Peter Parker's aunt emblazoned on one of the walls of her old workplace in memory of a woman long gone.
Castiel stumbled back, horror fluttering across his face, confusion pooling in his stomach.
What?
He found himself back in the bunker, startling Dean into upending the game of life board he, Jack, and Sam had been playing (though Sam would later swear it was because he'd been so in debt it was hilarious, considering how slick he usually was).
And then he asked them about Peter.
"Who?" Dean asked.
Sam tilted his head. "... I don't think we know a Peter you'd be talking about." His brows furrowed. "Do we? Is he an angel?"
Castiel's mouth fell open.
Had he…?
But no, because Jack turned to him with wide, soulful eyes and asked. "Are you talking about that guy who was all over the news? Didn't Dean ask you not to go to him?"
Castiel nodded almost hysterically.
"I did what?" Dean demanded, confused. "I don't remember telling you to stay from some guy named Peter."
"Yeah, I think we said to stay away from…?" Sam's nose scrunched up in rising worry. "Wasn't it the Avengers?"
"But he is–" Jack began.
Castiel cut him off. "Something is very, very wrong," He said. "I'm going to heaven for a bit."
And before Dean could demand explanations, though Castiel was fairly sure he would do so with Jack anyway, he flew away. He had a soul to find because he was fairly sure May Parker would know at least a little about what was going on.
May Parker's heaven was her and Peter on a cold Christmas day, waiting for takeout as they enjoyed a lineup of board games and cheesy Christmas movies.
Castiel could practically feel the warmth of family and the hope for a better tomorrow as May looked up from the couch and smiled at Castiel. “Hello,” She said. “I haven’t had a visitor here since I came.”
Castiel inclined his head. “It is an honor to meet you, May Parker,” He said. “I am Castiel, an angel, and I have come to request some answers.”
“An angel?” May asked, looking surprised but curious. “Incredible! I got that this was some kind of afterlife, but…” She shook her head. “What do you wanna know? Though I’ve got to tell you, I’m probably way behind the news.”
Castiel couldn’t hide his smile, though it slipped as he remembered what he was going to need to talk about. He cleared his throat. “I have been… keeping an eye on your nephew,” He began hesitantly, making May narrow her eyes and cross her arms. Thankfully, though, the woman didn’t interrupt. “As a superhero, he is quite a presence in the mortal world.”
“You go down to Earth, then,” She said blandly, but Castiel could see the way her lips pursed at the edges, and he just knew she was wondering what he, as an angel, was doing not helping humanity.
“Yes,” Castiel admitted. “And my friends introduced me to your superheroes, at which point I discovered Spiderman.”
May blinked, somehow taken aback. “Wait, friends? You mean you have actual humans as friends? Then why the hell didn’t you angels do anything about the ***damn blip?!” She scrunched up her nose as part of her words came out blacked out. “Wow, great censorship you got here.”
Castiel ignored that last part. “The world was not only facing the non-existence of all you who vanished during those years, May Parker,” He said morosely. “There was a pending apocalypse and villains we could not refuse to pay attention to. I was… I was unable to do a thing until it was far too late, and the reapers told me it wasn’t mass death but rather something far more insidious. Powerful beyond a measure even we angels could affect.” He sighed. “Regardless, that is not what I have come here to talk about.”
May straightened. “Right, yes. You mentioned something about Peter.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my, is he okay?”
Castiel grimaced. “That–” He shook his head. “I have no idea,” He admitted. “I was hoping to discover what happened before I went looking for him.” He pinned May with a stare. “I remember that there was an expose about Peter’s identity a while ago. So why does the world not remember who Spiderman is?”
May Parker paled and fell back onto the couch, mouth slightly open. “What?” She whispered weakly. “No!”
Castiel nodded. “I went to your apartment and it was inhabited by strangers. Your… significant other did not have Peter, either, and neither did his friends. In fact, they did not even seem to remember him. Neither did my human friends when I asked them about it.”
“Shit,” May swore again. “Shit. Peter used the spell.”
“‘Spell’?” Castiel asked, eyebrow raised.
May waved a hand distractedly. “Yeah, the magic guy in the Avengers, Strange? He did it. Peter said he’d stopped at some point, but…” Her eyes narrowed. “Just wait, Stephen Strange!” She yelled into the ceiling. “When you get here–!”
Castiel cleared his throat.
May sighed. “Look, Peter went to Strange to ask about a way to fix the world knowing him, and he was about to cast this weird magic memory-wiping spell,” Her mouth twisted in bemusement. “I’m not exactly clear on all the details - teenagers, you know - but the gist of it is, they messed up somehow, and while Strange bound the spell to a doohickey–” She winced. “There were these… villains who entered from other dimensions who knew who Peter was. Peter wanted to save them, and he was saving them when I– when I–” Her voice broke. “That’s all I know. But I believe in Peter. He must have fixed everything.” Her hand reached up to rub the corner of her eyes. “Except he’s always been too self-sacrificing for his own good.”
Castiel frowned further. “So you do not know where he would be now.”
“No,” May said. “If he’s not with Happy, then…” She chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe you can check out my–” She swallowed. “My grave. Peter’s bound to come there once in a while.”
Castiel gave a sharp nod. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” May said, and there was a soft, sad smile on her face. “If I can’t be there for him, I’d rather there at least be a guardian angel.”
Castiel opened his mouth to refute the claim because he was no guardian and then hesitated because was that not what he was for Jack? Was that not what he was when he’d cast those protection spells on Peter’s home? Was he not when he was looking for Peter Parker in an effort to save a boy far too alone when he did not deserve to be? “... Yes,” He said resolutely. “It would be my honor to be Peter’s guardian angel.”
Peter Parker was living in a shabby one-room apartment in one of the seediest buildings in New York (or, well, near enough), and Castiel was horrified. He knew how fragile humans were, and this was no environment for a young, growing boy! Yes, he could probably live here as everyone seemed to around here, and yes, it was likely all Peter could afford, but no, Castiel would not let this happen.
Alas, he could only do so much when he wasn’t even there with permission.
So he waited until Peter left for work and ‘broke into the apartment’, as Dean had phrased it, though it was more that he merely stepped into it. He had no need for breaking anything when it was entirely accessible. Hmm, he would have to put up more wards.
He tackled the dusting first, having a little domestic experience from his years as a human and not wanting to alert any magical being in the area - May Parker had mentioned a ‘Strange’ who boasted magic, and while a stern talking-to to this man who had wiped Peter from the minds of everyone who ever loved him was in order, Castiel had decided to put it a littel further down his priority list, because hte first time he’d seen Peter laying a single flower on the grave, the desperation and sadness had made a vortex around him, and the boy had still managed to make time to save a little girl from stumbling into traffic some hour or so later. Peter Parker needed ot know that at least someone knew of him, remembered him, and would not forget him, and Castiel was happy to take that job.
So yes, he did the domestic work first and managed to turn the apartment into something a little more livable - Peter had undoubtedly done his best, but there were some things even Spiderman did not know how to do… like get rid of hazardous ceiling mold, which Castiel, admittedly, did cheat at and use his heavenly miracles on, albeit under wraps and without enough boost to alert anyone. Hopefully.
And then he sat on the couch and waited.
He waited for hours upon end, his mind whirling with thoughts and his body completely, utterly still. So still, in fact, that when Peter Parker entered the room, he waltzed straight past Castiel, yawning.
“Hello, Peter Parker,” Castiel said, rising to his height and smiling kindly at the back of the boy.
The boy screeched, then spun around, a wrist pointed at Castiel, a glob of white webbing shooting out faster than either of them could blink and hitting Castiel straight in the chest. Castiel looked down at it, then followed the web where it led back to Peter gaping at the stranger in his room who was… not attacking him?
Castiel continued smiling. “Hello,” He said again.
“Who the heck are you?!” Peter blurted, completely confused. “And how did you even get into my apartment?” His eyes were wide. “Why didn’t I notice you?” Then he froze, the web falling from his hand to the floor. “Wait, you know… you know my name? How…?”
“Because Peter Parker,” Castiel said as softly as he could. “I did not forget.”
Peter shuddered, and his eyes pooled with tears. But he didn’t let down his guard, spiky resistance rising from him like a hedgehog’s battle armor. “Who are you?”
“I am Castiel,” He replied. “And I am your Guardian Angel.” He inclined his head. “Your aunt told me where to find you, and I came directly from Heaven to tell you you are not alone.”
“May–” Peter said, struggling to understand and comprehend and even hope.
And then there was a flash of something in his eyes, and he inhaled sharply. “Oh,” He said. “I get it.”
Castiel’s smile became a little less tense. “Indeed?”
“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “You’re a hallucination.”
Castiel stopped. What?
“You’re talking about May and angels and everything, and I’m running on like two hours of sleep. It’s just like subconscious to manifest something to tell me May would want me to take care of myself.” He huffed a small laugh. “She was always naggy like that.” He shrugged. “Thank you for trying, Mr. Castiel Hallucination, I’ll try getting more sleep.”
“Wait, that’s not–”
Peter tilted his head. “You don’t want me to sleep?”
That wasn’t it! “Of course I want you to rest!” Castiel said immediately. “Sleep is essential for the human body to function, especially for growing children!”
Peter smiled. “Yeah, May would probably say that too, though I bet her words wouldn’t be so formal.” He turned away from Castiel. “Thanks again, Mr. Castiel Hallucination. I’m glad you told me you remembered, even though it’s just my mind making stuff up. It made me feel a little better.”
And Peter Parker walked away from an angel of heaven standing speechless behind him, unsure of how to convince this sleep-deprived child he was not, in fact, a hallucination.