That feeling of relief when you finally manage to something written after having to scrape your original idea and deal with some painful writer's block...
imagine, for a moment, you are a man who has done everything wrong. you failed to obey your father and it got your brother killed. the only thing you could possibly do to redeem yourself is to go in his place. it’s what dad would have wanted.
and you die, and it’s awful, and you are tortured in hell until you finally break and become a tormentor yourself. you’re one of the best, and you hate yourself for it.
and then there is this blaze of light and you wake up in a grave and you claw your way out and the ringing won’t stop and her EYES are burnt out and WHAT IS IT and WHAT DOES IT WANT and why did it save you?
guns don’t work. spells don’t work. the knife doesn’t even work. and he stares you in your eyes and tells you that good things happen??? why??? not here, not to you.
and this whole time there has been a god up there, watching, with a grand plan for you and an angel who pulled you out of hell and left a handprint on your shoulder and even more, god, they’re everywhere. where did they come from? why here? why now?
they want you and your brother to end the world. you can’t let that happen in good conscience. and then this thing that knit your soul back together looks at you and he sees you and you realize he’s the first thing in a long time, maybe ever, to actually see you, and it’s fucking horrifying. and he won’t leave you alone (except when you need him) and he never gives up on you (though he threatens to) and he actually cares.
he cares enough to give himself up for you. enough to sacrifice his wings. enough to go against everything he’s ever known simply because you asked him to. there’s only one person on the planet you’d do the same for, but you’re blood. why on earth would this angel think you’re worth all of that?
and then your brother’s gone and this time there really isn’t anything you can do. and then your angel’s gone and honestly domestic life is fine but you’re always looking over your shoulder and you can hardly breathe and then you see him, sam, again, and maybe something’s gonna make sense again for once. and then your angel’s back but he’s different and something inside you tries to remind you that you shouldn’t trust him, he’s not human, but he’s family and damnit you couldn’t let go if you tried.
but he’s been lying, this whole time he was lying and you just believed him like an idiot and of course he’s a fucking angel. what did you expect? angels don’t care about people like you. they wouldn’t know how.
but he wants to make it up to you.
and then he dies.
and it doesn’t feel real. you feel hollow. it’s like something got ripped out of your chest and you don’t know how to put yourself back together. your shoulder is cold as you pray, in vain, because even just pretending he can hear you is enough sometimes.
you just want to apologize. that’s all.
and then suddenly he’s back but that’s not him at all and everything’s so wrong you dumbass nothing can ever be easy and when he does remember, when he gets it all back he says that he’s the one who doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. he’s a damn angel! he’s practically made of the stuff! why the hell would he care so much about yours?
and he takes all your brother’s pain on as his own and it hurts because you’re the one who’s supposed to do that. it’s your responsibility. no warrior of heaven should be fighting your battles.
but he does anyway.
and he keeps doing it, he avoids you in purgatory because he wanted to keep you safe but damnit, doesn’t he understand you need him here? doesn’t he understand that you wouldn’t want to be safe in a world without him?
and you try to tell him, over and over, but he’s just not hearing you, and oh, yeah. he’s an angel. even if he listened he wouldn’t understand. and then he’s trying to fucking kill you. you’re sure this is when you die because he’s an angel and you’re a human and you should have seen this coming from a million miles away but you try to tell him anyway because damnit, he’s family, and you’ve never cared like this about anyone. you never prayed before him, and now you do it every night. he’s changed you. least you could do is tell him.
and for the first time, he hears you.
and then he’s gone. and the angels are falling. and oh.
shit.
he’s human.
he comes home to you and he’s so small now. he’s like a little lost puppy. you just want to keep him close and safe forever.
has he always looked like this?
and you wonder if maybe now, after all of this, he could understand. he’s got a human heart and you’re not sure what that means but you’re positive you want to find out. but you can’t tell him about the angel living in your brother. you can’t tell anyone. it burns in your chest and your throat and you look in his eyes, the eyes that looked at your soul, and tell him he has to go.
you miss him everyday.
you take every chance just to see him again. but sam’s getting worse and you can’t think about anything else right now. you still wonder what’s going on inside his head but you lose your chance to find out because he’s got his juice back and as nice as it is to go back to normal that one little voice stalks around the back of your mind, reminding you of everything you couldn’t ever have.
you don’t want to think about it, so you don’t. you take on the mark and lose yourself to the slaughter and it feels like hell again. that’s familiar now. you lean into it. try to feed the darkest parts of you that you never let see the light of day.
but it’s still hollow. there’s a piece missing, and as much as you try you can’t fill it on your own. but he’s back and he’s saving you again. how many times is this damn angel going to try save you before he gets it into his head that you’re a lost cause?
but you’re not a lost cause.
damn it.
he doesn’t give up. he keeps coming back, over and over, just to make sure you’re, what, contained? because that’s what you are, now. a threat. and you tell him to take you out but he looks at you with those eyes again and while you’re scared of what you could do when the mark takes over, you’re more scared of what you’d say to him if it doesn’t.
because those eyes have seen you for all of these years and they still choose you, over and over. flaws and all.
dumbass.
he’s always there now. not like before, when it was whenever he could make it. he lives with you. he’s always around. and there’s this peace that settles in your stomach when he’s there that you’ve never felt before. it’s a liability.
your enemies notice and they always try to take him out first. lucky for him, you’ve got practice saving angels.
it takes a long time. too long. but you come home and he’s right there waiting for you and it’s the best you can remember feeling in years. things aren’t quite so bad when he’s around. maybe it’s that angelic protection mom always told you about.
mom.
he saves her. and sam. and you. and god damnit you’re so mad you could spit. it’s the most human, the most winchester thing you’ve seen him do, and that scares you more than anything else. you try to tell him and you can’t find the right words but he’s still listening and god that’s horrifying. he’d do anything for you, and you know first hand how dangerous that could be, so you clam up to keep the both of you safe.
he just wants to make you proud, and it gets him killed.
if it felt like a missing piece before, now it feels like someone’s ripped clean through your chest. you’ve never felt this empty in your life. and there’s a kid now, but how the fuck are you supposed to take care of a kid when you can’t even keep a damn angel of the lord safe?
it’s worse than hell. in hell you had something keeping you going. here, there’s no reason for anything anymore. it’s irrational, you know it is, you see the look on sam’s face when you pick up another bottle but none of it matters. you don’t want to think about why he meant so much to you so you don’t. you just fall deeper and deeper into the empty until you can’t see the sky and you’re falling, falling, falling, right into the deep baritone of his voice on the phone and oh my god.
you’re never letting go of him again. you can suddenly breathe around the kid because look how much your angel loves him. that kid’s his whole world and damnit if you aren’t going to keep it safe for him.
but it’s complicated. it’s messy and you never talk how you should. you spend hours and hours together but you never say what you mean and he looks like he’s somewhere else and if it wasn’t so good to have him back at all this would be a new kind of torture.
he still cares for you but it feels like a punishment now. like a death sentence. it feels like every hour spent together is one he doesn’t get to spend anywhere else. he chooses you, but it doesn’t feel like a choice anymore.
is this how sammy felt?
oh, god.
but then the kid fucks it all up because of course he did, he’s a kid. that’s what they do. but cas isn’t with you on this one. for the first time in as long as you can remember, you aren’t his top priority. it feels like a slap in the face. that old voice flares back up, taunting you with everything you wouldn’t let yourself hear.
you’ll never be an angel. you’ll never really be his family. he gave himself up so many times and you gave him nothing. he was stupid to have cared at all in the first place. when he leaves you tell yourself it’s a good thing.
it’s not.
he comes back and you realize the only way to put your pieces back together is to apologize. so you do. and a weight is lifted and it all feels like there’s a future here, for once. like you’re not going to be stuck living from apocalypse to apocalypse. but he won’t quite meet your eye. he’s there with you, and he smiles, but it’s pained and you don’t understand and you realize just how much about him you’ll never be able to understand.
he’s an angel. he’s not like you.
but he tries. he laughs with you and cries with you and his voice is soft in a way it could have never been before and a part of you wonders. but no. what you have now is good. you can deal with technicalities once everything else is out of the way. just be glad you have him.
people start disappearing and you grab his arm to make sure he’s not going to leave too. and then you’re behind the door and he’s warded it with his holy blood and you realize that you’re going to die here. you both are. and his eyes do that thing again where it looks like he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the universe, and he’s talking and you’re trying to keep up but he keeps saying these things and they don’t make sense,
“what are you talking about, man?”
and he tells you. and you can’t believe it. it’s so much to take in at once and everything inside you is screaming about how wrong it all is, you need more time, more space, anything,
“i love you.”
and your world stops and he pulls you close and it’s all you can do not to start sobbing but you feel him start to let go and you grab his face in your hands and you kiss him because if this is going to be the last time you see him, you’re not going to let it go to waste.
you barely have time to choke out his name before he’s pushing you to the ground. the door slams open and both of them are gone and then all of the adrenaline hits you. your entire life flashes before your eyes. the tears are flowing freely now. you can hardly breathe.
