Song Remains the Same

Chapter 112: Consign Me Not to Darkness

"Without you in my arms, I feel an emptiness in my soul.
I find myself searching the crowds for your face.
I know it's an impossibility, but I cannot help myself."
- Nicholas Sparks

The Next Day

An angel in a trench coat stood alone on a foggy morning outside of a building with an elegant steeple. With eyes empty and hands that were emptier still, he faced the little church and remained unmoving for what was turning into hours. The lights inside the building glowed through the glass windows like beacons in the morning chill, warmly promising hope and comfort that Castiel felt sure wasn't possible to obtain. What could ever alleviate the pain he felt; the despair that filled his every waking moment? The only sunshine in his life had been snuffed out forever.

Cas's mournful gaze slid to the nearby church billboard for what must have been the hundredth time. See Us Inside About Grief Counseling. His eyes went to the church again and he fought himself on whether or not to go inside and seek help. Something inside of him kept saying no. No, Castiel.

Some unknown force kept him rooted to the spot even though his wounded emotions begged him to find a way to lessen the pain that was slowly destroying his heart and mind. Grief. It ate him alive. It was every moment of every day. It was the weight on his shoulders and the shadow that had taken over his entire world.

Grief was a name, Alex—a person who was loved beyond the description of words; a person who was utterly gone. Grief was the thought of her smile and her laugh and the trust that had rested in the depths of her hazel eyes—it was the sound of his name from her lips—it was the comfort of her arms around him. Those were all things he would never have back ever again. And that was the cold reality. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, Castiel thought about the very worst thing in all of existence: she's gone. And it didn't make sense. In every possible way, it didn't make sense. Nothing was bright anymore. Nothing gave him hope and everything made him feel worse. He wasn't sure why he was still even alive at this point. He quite literally could not carry the feeling that her loss had inspired in him. His heart and mind were being ripped apart painfully, slowly, endlessly and he couldn't take it much longer. Each tick of the clock keeping time of the universe only served to destroy the angel further. What was left for him if not her? Guilt and grief and confusion were drowning him anew. The knowledge that this was his fault plagued him.

In a flash of disconnected, blurry memories, he recalled her returning to Purgatory for him but she'd been oddly and inexplicably sick. Pale, weak, slow, feeble. Why? He questioned that and then suddenly felt he shouldn't question it. In fact, questioning that fact was bad.

Accept what you ' re told. Stop questioning everything, Castiel. I ' ve told you what ' s at stake if you don ' t obey.

Left in a daze, Cas remembered the way Alex had rapidly gone downhill and gotten sicker and sicker in the endless wasteland of Purgatory. It had ended without real warning. They had been trying to fight their way out of that hellscape one moment, then he'd been holding her on the ground as she died in his arms the next. He remembered fingers clutching him and the sound of her lungs failing as her eyes showed wild panic. And he could do nothing. "You have to serve Heaven," she had told him with her last breaths as he begged her not to die. "For me, Castiel. Promise me." Cas faltered... why would she say that to him? It didn't make sense. Alex had never cared about Heaven before. And she had never told Castiel where to place his allegiances. She had always wanted him to choose for himself. And she didn't call him Castiel. Not often.