Jul 21
starter for @preveils,
ðomewhere deep in appalachia, in a bar long ago abandoned by god, an angel nurses another double pour of whiskey.
the dim, flickering lights overhead cannot penetrate the layer of dust coating every inch of the bar. in truth, castiel does not mind the darkness. he does not want to look too closely at the people around him, with their tired eyes & their tired lives. he does not want to look too closely at his own failure, of GOD'S failure to save them.
a row of empty glasses encircles him; they are his growing congregation. he sighs, swallowing down the rest of the amber liquid before motioning to the bartender for another.
perhaps this will be the glass that finally suffocates the guilt burning inside his chest.
