CASTIEL'S REQUIEM

Chapter 33: It's Just A Dream

Castiel slipped out of the motel room, careful not to disturb her sleeping sister, Uriel. They had left Avery City behind and were now in Middleton, Norton, seeking refuge in this small town. She crept through the hallway, trying not to make a sound, and stopped at the front desk. To her surprise, Ivy, the 52-year-old matron and owner of the motel, was fast asleep, her head resting on a pile of books. Her husband, Zeb Patterson, was nowhere to be seen, but Ivy's snores filled the air, sounding like a chainsaw cutting through wood. Castiel snorted, amused by Ivy's dedication to her work and her impressive snoring abilities. Despite having only a handful of patrons, including Castiel and Uriel, Ivy had been working non-stop for the past 48 hours.

Shaking her head, Castiel turned her attention to the door, reaching out to grab the handle. But to her surprise, it refused to budge. She tried again and again, but the door remained stubbornly shut.

Just as she was about to try again, a familiar voice spoke up, startling her. "It won't open." Castiel turned slowly, her eyes widening as she saw Emily standing before her. Her voice caught in her throat as she asked, "Emily?"

"Oh, by El, I thought I'd never see you again! You're alive?" Castiel knelt to accommodate taking Emily's hands in hers, her eyes scanning her face for any signs of injury. "Yes, silly," Emily giggled, her eyes sparkling with mirth, as the angel touched her face with care, like a mother would her favorite child.

"But how? I...I...felt you die," Castiel stuttered, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I know, angel, I'll see you soon, but only if you find me," Emily said, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, stepping out of Castiel's reach, she disappeared.

"No!" Castiel yelled, "Come back, Em! Please, Emily!" she pleaded, desperation etched on her face. "Emeeeleee!" she yelled at the top of her voice.

"Wake up, Caz, it's just a dream," Uriel said, wincing as Castiel's grip tightened.

Castiel opened her eyes, apologizing, "I'm sorry," before asking, "Where's Emily?" Her eyes scanned the room, searching for her deceased ward.

"Castiel, I believe you dreamt of her," Uriel said slowly, rubbing her forehead. "She was never here, Caz."

After a moment, Castiel said, "She's alive, Uriel."

Uriel replied firmly, "No, she isn't, Azrael. She died, you saw her dead body." She believed Castiel needed a reality check.

Castiel's eyes took on a desperate look. "I know what I saw, Riri. She told me to find her."

Uriel nodded empathetically. "Listen, Caz, you saw the kid's dead body, and so did Rafa. You felt her die, Caz. There are no buts. If she were alive, you'd know. You are Death, after all."

Castiel smiled ruefully. "Yeah, I would know."

Uriel ruffled Castiel's hair. "Don't be too hard on yourself, kid. Happens to the best of us."

"Thanks, Riri. I don't know what to do without you."

Uriel grinned. "You're welcome, kid. But you gotta buy me a nice ride after all this."

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "Jesus, you're still obsessed with speed."

Uriel replied in mock seriousness, "Yeah, now do we have a deal, or I'll dump your ass on Mars?"

Castiel smiled, "Yeah."

—_—

"I'm so sorry, father," Gyuri choked out between sobs. "I just wish I had stopped her. Now she's... she's... and it's all my fault." The prince fell to his knees, overcome with grief.

Weeks had passed since Svetlana's tragic death in the car accident in Los Angeles, and Gyuri had been consumed by sorrow. He had refused food and had to be forced to eat, losing weight and becoming a shadow of his former self. It took his sister's death for him to realize he had loved her in his own twisted way.

The monarch, who had come to terms with his daughter's death, tried to console Gyuri. "Come on, son, there was nothing you could have done. I guess it was her time."

But Gyuri sobbed even harder. "But I could have! I should have been the one to die!" He cried, his body shaking with anguish.

The king stepped down from the bed and approached Gyuri, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Son, that's enough," he said sternly. "You should be focusing on how to someday take the throne, not whining like a child." His voice was firm, but his eyes betrayed a hint of disdain. He had lost his beloved Lana, and now he was stuck with a son he deemed useless.
"You are right, father," Gyuri said, his voice cold and detached, a stark contrast to his earlier sorrow. "I should focus on how to be king." He grasped his handgun and placed it on the king's forehead. "I am, and now it's time to rid myself of my final obstacle."

The king's eyes widened in terror as he begged, "Don't do this, son!"

But Gyuri's resolve was unwavering. He had made up his mind long ago that his father would have to die for him to claim the throne. With a maniacal laugh, he pulled the trigger, and the king slumped to the ground.

Gyuri's laughter echoed through the room, a chilling sound that revealed the depth of his hatred and ambition. He was determined to be king, no matter the cost.

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