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Cas was happy. And then he was gone. Pulled into the void. Well, almost.
Cas blinked away the tears from his eyes. This wasn’t the Empty. It was too bright. And there was Chuck.
Chuck spoke, “You know, I liked you Castiel. I really did! I mean, I rebuilt you after dear old Luci eviscerated you. I stuck I kept you alive. Because you were interesting!” Chuck paced back and forth across the white void that surrounded them, his eyes never leaving Castiel. “Emphasis on were. See, the longer you lived, the longer the Winchesters lived, the worse you got. And then you all stopped playing along. This could have all been prevented, you know? If Dean had just pulled that damn trigger.”
Castiel's mind was racing, trying to catch up. This wasn’t where he was supposed to be. But that was the furthest thing from his mind. Cas found his words. “If he did, he would have died.”
Chuck stopped pacing, turning to stare directly at Castiel, hands reaching towards him. “And you would have lived! And you and Sam would have done everything in your power to bring him back! It was going to be beautiful! Tragic, and hopeless, and glorious. But noooo,” Chuck threw his hands in the air, “Good ol’ Dean Winchester had to stick it to the man, to break away. To be special.” Chuck spat the words out, glowering at Castiel. “I am… disappointed, Castiel.”
Cas stared back, eyes full of defiance.
“But that’s okay,” Chuck continued, “because I. I am going to get the last laugh. Because I can’t let you go quietly into nothingness. You, Castiel, have stepped on my toes one too many times.” He paused, looking away, “But you are still going to the void. I am not stupid enough to try and keep you around, where you can make things worse. But that doesn't stop me from making you hurt as much as I can.”
Cas felt a fleeting sense of relief. The plan will still work. Dean will be safe, at least from Billie. From Death. For now, at least. A small smile emerged on his face. He would continue to live, to cruise his way across the states in that beautiful car. He would keep hunting, how could he not. He would keep saving people. And along the way, he would drink an inordinate amount of beer and jam to classic rock. And he would eat pie and hopefully he will not mourn for too long.
Chuck sneered at Castiel, “You loved him. You loved him more than you were loyal, more than what you were made for. You loved him more than me, the one who formed you. And that made you interesting. It also made you very, very , unpredictable. But ultimately you told him, knowing that would be your end. Somehow, despite the fact that you left him to deal with, well, me, you were able to find peace. You were able to find happiness.” Chuck was ranting now, the pace of his words becoming manic, “Somehow you, despite knowing exactly how deadly and dangerous existence is. Despite how Dean no longer an angel on his shoulder has, you let yourself be happy. But you know what? There was a better version for you. Do you want to know what you could have had, Castiel? Do you want to know what was in the rough draft?”
The smile slipped from his face as Cas found his eyes filled with tears again, this time, sorrowful.
Chuck let out a ghost of a laugh, before moving close to Castiel. Too close, too real. “In the rough draft, he loved you. He fully did, and he told you. He begged you not to go. He fought Death, he fought the empty. He fought it all. Just to be with you. And in that version, he won. You won. You were both happy. Together. That’s what you could have had, Castiel. But you didn’t. And you won’t, too late for that. Have fun thinking about that.”
Cas watched as Chuck raised his hand. Then, he snapped his fingers, and it all went black.