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Epiphany - 8x17

Summary:

Castiel receives revelation.

Notes:

This fic takes place just after the end of 8x17 through to canon events when Cas is stopped by Naomi and her Angels in 8x21.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

               Castiel was in a Biggerson’s in Indiana, in a Biggerson’s in Vermont, in a Biggerson’s in Texas, in a Biggerson’s in New Hampshire… in a Biggerson’s… in a Biggerson’s… in a Biggerson’s. Castiel was in California, Washington, Montana, Arkansas, Virginia, Connecticut, Michigan. Castiel sipped a coffee, looking out the window at a small town in Georgia, admiring hydrangea bushes in full bloom across the road. And every time he stopped, all he could think about was Dean. Dean begging, Dean bloodied, Dean dying. Dean, disfigured and pleading on that crypt floor.

Cas... It’s me.

 I need you.

               The last several months were a blur. It was as if his vessel had been operating without him. That night in the crypt he’d wanted to resist with every fibre of his being. He’d wanted to stop. He’d wanted to care for Dean and heal Dean and save Dean, but he had hurt Dean. Severely. Until Naomi had said something that changed everything.

You have to choose Castiel, us or them.

You have to choose, Castiel.

You have to choose.

Choose.

               There was never any question. Unequivocally, he chose humanity—he chose Dean. He had chosen Dean every day since he pulled him from Hell. And he would choose him every day for the rest of forever. Though Naomi had made him act out her cruelty over and over—thousands of times—again and again, murdering Dean…  he still chose Dean. He didn’t want to imagine a future without Dean in it. Dean filled his Grace with warmth and light; he needed Dean like flowers needed sunshine.

I need you.

               When Castiel touched the Angel Tablet after making his choice, it had freed him. As the light erupted from it, Naomi’s conditioning had been severed from his Grace and he’d seen his entire existence with new clarity. He awoke with new understanding and true freedom. This tablet—the Angel Tablet—this Word of God… he could never allow it to fall into the wrong hands. But he’d known the Angels would come for it, ruthlessly hunt for it, never backing down… and though he now understood he needed Dean too, regrettably, he’d had to leave. Again. But the tablet must stay as far away from Dean as possible. He would do whatever he must for Dean’s safety.

               Castiel was in a Biggerson’s in Delaware, in a Biggerson’s in Ohio, in a Biggerson’s in Tennessee, in a Biggerson’s in Iowa… in a Biggerson’s… in a Biggerson’s. Castiel sipped a coffee as he chatted with a young waiter in North Carolina. Trying to make small talk as a human would and perceiving himself as failing miserably. People often laughed, even if he wasn’t trying to be funny. Or gave him an odd smile as they left with some type of pity in their eyes. Sometimes people even silently moved away without a word and a different waiter would check in on his table later. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t dwell on it either, even though all he had was time. He thought about other things. He thought a lot.

I need you.

               Dean had told him this in Purgatory as well. What did he mean? What did he need? Cas’ power? His abilities, his strength? A comrade in arms? He’d said they were… family. Angels had been the only family he’d known, the Angels fought and died for one another and he’d done nothing less for Dean. But unlike Dean, Angels didn’t show compassion, kindness or… love. Those that did were ostracized, often killed for disobedience—especially if it involved humans. But now he could see it, he realised he’d always been outside looking in, he just wasn’t aware of it until the day he’d pulled Dean from Hell. He’d thought it was just their bond, the claim he’d laid, but it was because he admired Dean—the love Dean showed to others and how much he cared. Now he realised, these years knowing Dean had made him strive for the same. Was that the answer? Did Dean need Cas’ compassion? His kindness, his affection, his… love? Conflict jolted his Grace through his vessel, jumbling his emotions. Angels weren’t meant to feel as humans do. Angels weren’t meant to love, and certainly not to love humans. And yet, here he was, contemplating the possibility.

               How could something so wonderful and so splendid… be wrong? His mind went back to many years ago, when Akobel was sentenced and his Garrison carried out the order. Now, he saw Akobel in a new light. Akobel was not wrong. He thought of when Anna returned and doubt seeped in no matter how many times Naomi reset him. And though he’d tried to fight it, what Anna told him made too much sense to ignore. Anna was not wrong. For so long he’d blindly followed orders. He may never even know who’s orders those had truly been, but Sam… Dean… they had become his friends. That was more than he could say about most Angels. So now, as he ran from those who would try to crush him, who would use the tablet for what he now believed to be wrongful transgression, he wondered… were there other Angels that would understand? Surely it wasn’t just him, Anna and Akobel? Even Inias had shown him kindness… some kind of mercy.

               Castiel was in a Biggerson’s in New Jersey, in a Biggerson’s in Mississippi, in a Biggerson’s in Kentucky, in a Biggerson’s in South Dakota… in a Biggerson’s. Castiel sipped a coffee as he watched the last of winter’s snow melting slowly into the Alaskan ground. It had been weeks since he’d started running and now when he thought of Dean, his Grace twirled happily once again. It was the only pleasantry he afforded himself. Dean’s handsome face, perfectly replicated in his Angelic memory; his vibrant green eyes, beautiful freckles, sweet smile, the sound of his laugh—gave Cas life in an otherwise lifeless situation. He cared for Sam and Dean as his own, they were his friends and Dean was right, they had become his family. And he had grown incredibly fond of Dean over the years… he’d realised he had always longed for Dean’s happiness. No matter his own indiscretions, he’d always protected Dean, always wanted what was best for Dean. As he let that warm, bubbly sensation flow through his Grace he wondered… was this love? Did he love Dean?

               Castiel was in a Biggerson’s in New York, in a Biggerson’s in Wyoming, in a Biggerson’s in Rhode Island, in a Biggerson’s in New Mexico… The waitress’ name tag read ‘KARA’ and she was one of the good ones. Even though he was beginning to understand the look on their faces when he said something odd and he saw it there on hers, she was still kind to him. And when he returned to find everyone in that Biggerson’s slaughtered—poor Kara with her eyes burned out and a warning passing her lips—it broke his vessel’s heart. His brethren could wipe out tens of innocent humans without a second thought… but Castiel—Castiel could not. There was no longer any room for doubt.

Castiel knew love.

Notes:

Passage of time in this fic works on a one season equals one year frame. This makes each episode about 2 weeks of time, unless it's obvious it picks up directly after the previous episode, meaning it takes place over about 6 weeks. (Or 3 episodes - 8x18, 8x19 and 8x20.)

Well then, I didn't expect to write this! Maybe it was the meta thoughts I had the other day on tumblr, but this just kinda happened the other night after I posted part 6 and I'd been working on it since then. My brain is kinda like that though, either I can be creative and write or draw, or I cant... so here we are.

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