Hands, Eyes, Hearts - A Collection of Supernatural Drabbles

3 // Castiel

Someone once asked Castiel what it was like to fly.

He'd never thought about it before. It was part of him, far more integral to who he was than even the fellowship of his brothers and sisters, or the steady light left behind by their Father.

He finally replied, much later and apropos of nothing that was happening at the time, that it was much akin to never knowing what it was like to walk upon the ground.

"So, like being weightless?"

"No," he said with a frown. "It belies the concept of weight. Imagine... never experiencing gravity. It would be a foreign element, one your mind cannot even define in order to experience it."

That got a series of rapid blinks, and a change of subject.

Much later, when Castiel became mortal, he realized that it is impossible for humans to imagine what it is like to be unable to imagine a concept — he himself had never imagined losing the use of his wings. It was impossible, after all. Angels flew, or died, but they fell so rarely (and never so incompletely) that his mind could not accept it as a possibility until it was the only possibility. This was his existence now, and he could define the feeling.

It was exactly like dying, constantly, while one was still alive. It only served to reinforce exactly what it had felt like to fly.