@hcstfcllen liked for heartbreak! (balthazar)
He spends long hours, days, years, doing his best not to let himself think anything -- to avoid... hope. After the first hundred years or so, hope became a dangerous emotion. So he tries to forget, about everything, yet he can’t ever shut off his consciousness, not really. He can pretend. But that only gets a celestial being so far. The longer the time he lies there, restrained, the less he can remember of his life before these dark stone walls around him. It’s been so many years since he last saw the stars, it’s almost as if they’ve ceased to exist, as if the universe is only as big as this underground room.
Sometimes, maybe once or twice a year, he remembers his name.
Castiel.
Castiel.
C A S T I E L.
More often, he has no persona of his own.
He just is. A consciousness trapped, doomed to stay awake, alive.
His physical form is still the same vessel, never aging, trench coat stained with blood from centuries ago, dust gathering to cover it. Dirt clinging onto his skin.
Sigil-covered, symbol-filled chains restraining his arms behind his back up to his elbows, biting into his skin on his wrists where it’s bare. Connected to a hook held securely on the floor. He’s stopped fighting against the restraints a very long time ago.
Hope? Is something he cannot comprehend anymore. Can’t remember what it feels like. And maybe it’s a blessing.
