Blue Eyed Angel (A Castiel Love Story)

Shed I blood, Shed I tear?

A/N Hey! more on the way folks! All the love <3

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I am alone now. I have no family here that wants me. I am unneeded. I am not helping in the war, nor I am I helping anything. All my time I spend taking care of someone who barely wants me there. All my time I spend thinking of how my daughter will grow up motherless. 
Castiel, I think of you a lot. I wonder how you are, if ever you wish for friendship. Angels all talk like they are family, but I never seen fondness in your eyes when speaking about any angel. 
I keep waking up, wishing you were here, just too sit next to. I am alone Castiel, and so are you
Prayers to Castiel- the first

“Bobby, you want sugar in your coffee?” I asked, peeking over my shoulder at the grumpy man He raised his already full cup at me

“I’m full up, thanks” I came over to him and snatched the cup away, taking a deep sniff.

“Yuck Bobby! Whiskey? Is there even coffee in this?” I poured the drink down the sink and handed him the cup I just made. He grumbled at me

“You keep pouring my alcohol down the sink, I’m gonna run out”

“Good!” I snapped “Maybe you’ll lose some weight!” He glared at me and slammed his mug down

“Dammit Destiny, what is wrong with you?” I glared at him

“Drink your stupid coffee. I’m going out” I slammed the front door behind me and hopped on my bike.

Hours later I was sitting on a park bench a few towns over, watching some birds play in a pile of dirt. It was kind of cute. They chirped wildly and threw the first over themselves. Carefree. Briefly I thought for a second what it must be like to be a bird. Was it beautiful and full of color? Did birds feel more than basic instinct? Silently, I plucked at the hem of my T-shirt. It must be nice, to not feel.

“I’m sure it can’t be that great” I whispered. I pulled out a note book from the bag I had with me and started drawing one of the birds. I drew the fattest little bird. It had little yellow eyes and a red feather on each side of the breast.  I was no artist, but the drawing was neat enough. I tore the page out of the book, and left it there on the bench. One last look at the birds, and I was gone.

When I went home that evening and checked my phone I saw three messages from Bobby, all blunt apologies and less than subtle hints that I shouldn’t come over while I was on my period. I glared down at the phone but typed a small apology. It was not bobby’s fault I was in this mood.

It had been three months. Three months since Castiel kissed me, three months since he had spoken to me, three months since the end of times started. Every night I prayed to him. I prayed to him like he was god, and I told him all of my problems. I asked him forgiveness. I plead to him to forgive our sins. I don’t know why I missed the blue eyed angel so much, but my heart ached for him. The longer time went on, the more it hurt. Maybe it was like going cold turkey from drugs. Maybe I was overcome with that terrible sickness that junkies get. Thoughts like that scared me; junkies die when they go cold turkey. Tonight was a different night. Tonight was my daughter’s eighth birthday, and so when I was laying in my bed that night, I did not pray to Castiel.

I wept.

For him, for Jacob and Alice, for the Winchesters, the Singers, and for myself. I wept myself until there was nothing left in me too weep about, and then I dry heaved for hours, until I passed out in an upset delirium.

Just as I closed my eyes I could have sworn I felt that strange electric presence, but as I tired as I was, I was unable to stay awake and feel it.