Tabby Cats and Black Sheep
a short story some call an epilogue; but it’s spn related so some things never really die, they just tuck themselves away into the safety of our hearts and the fondness of those memories lives on there.
Castiel had learned how to wear his heart on his sleeve without allowing it to be crushed in the process; though there were still days it ached and yearned with a longing for something- or rather someone who had left a long time ago.
He still thought back to the very first memory he had of them, a summoning which he’d mistaken for a prayer. She’d been abrasive and damning, insulted him with heavy assumptions and then turned to tuck tail and run. A confusion of conniving wit and charm; and yet he’d found himself enthralled in the mystical curiosity she woke in him. She was out for blood and he couldn’t decide whether it was his blood she craved or her own instead.
A box, a cage really- with something inside that seemed more volatile than her. And he tossed her in with no remorse… if she hadn’t gotten in his head maybe he would’ve left her to her fate; to be mauled alive; chewed up and spit back out to start the process all over again. But she tapped into his grace… not his ethereal grace, but the human one. The human grace that manifested as empathy and concern… genuine care for the wild eyed woman who angrily summoned him and demanded his blood and feathers. He went back for her.
The cage was a mystery, he still didn’t understand it- maybe he didn’t want to take the time to understand it though. She’d needed help and he was an angel after all, helping was kinda what his type did. But he overestimated his strength against the thing lingering alongside her in the cage and with his guard down it got the upper hand on them both.
He used up his energy to get them away from that place- a rough crash landing in a motel where she let the fear instilled in her from youth, convince her to sleep on a tabletop. Weird. Fucking weird. He let her sleep… and he tried to tend to his wounds. Hidden away in a dingy bathroom with warm tub water he peeled blood soaked clothing off and scrubbed it clean, kneeling at the soapy waters edge until the warmth lulled him to sleep. Very fucking weird. Oddly human. Just like her.
She must’ve woken to the bath water running, warm soap that smelled like fresh apples and hazy morning naps. She took his clothes and rung them out to dry; stealing the soft blue tie; the backwards fabric that gave him his signature “dorky” look and covered him up with a towel, staring at the humanlike angel asleep on the dirty bathroom floor. Willing to help her even if it cost him his life, no questions asked.
He convinced her to sleep in the bed beside him; she stared at him like he was a bat fresh out of hell, he listens to her howl and scream and spit like a cat dunked in water it wasn’t expecting. They fit together like peanut butter and jelly. She wasted her own energy on stealing snacks from a corner store; they shared a moment of laughter together over sugary sweets and drinks.
It was time to go again, a stray cat followed them and Castiel let himself get attached to the small creature. He named it after his hunter’s favorite treat; Pie. But she didn’t want to lose her chance at reclaiming her humanity; she hurt his feelings, she yelled at him and told him to get rid of the thing. His growing humanness allowed for grief within his fondness of the small black ball of fuzz.
They stayed at a home that belonged to no one. And she knew he missed that stupid animal… except maybe it wasn’t so stupid if the angel she summoned missed it that much. She went out and found Pie; Castiel still thinks she did it to see him smile again. It was time to get back on track… she had someone to take down. And Castiel was the powerhouse she needed for that to be successful; Castiel didn’t know it then, but she was using him for her own gain… but at the same time she didn’t know that he was helping because he was a good angel… a soldier who followed instruction, no matter how fatal they could be.
Neither of them realized their story was being molded into something else. Less about themselves and more about each other. Their bond deepened and they didn’t even see it coming. Not until the woman’s father finally reared his head up from the flames of hell that licked away hope like a bonfire in the dark of the Midwest cornfields. Even then- the bond strained as hard as it could to not break.
They fell in love; but it was more than consummation and physicality; there was a depth and shifting dynamic… unplanned. Painful, yet somehow worth all of it.
There really is no epilogue; some stories simply don’t have endings, just long chapters that lead down different paths. Forever intertwined even if they never intersect again. Beautiful things that aren’t always destined to last forever, beautiful things.