Collection of Destiel

Through Your Eyes

Cas remembers reading somewhere that eyes are the window to the soul. As an angel he didn't need eyes to see someone's soul. Bright or solemn, loud or silent, Castiel could see them all. Most souls were tarnished but they gave off their own beacon of strength. Many were rare in color and flourished with every passing moment. There were few that were damaged beyond repair, and those were the ones that Castiel found his own sadness in.

Ever since the dawn of humankind Castiel has watched souls as they burned brighter or flickered out. Not even the Greats through history held much interest to him when faced with the souls of those aimlessly littering the streets. Each and every soul was a wonder to beheld, and Cas thought it a shame that humans couldn't see that in themselves.

Of those he's spoken to, most of them all remark that since he fell from Grace the things he would miss most are his wings and his 'mojo'. And though Cas missed them dearly, the thing he truly was left empty by was the sight of people's souls.

Sam's had been a burnt orange, one that would match the mid-burn of a flame. In battle the orange would spiral into the deepest red Cas had ever seen. When researching the orange would mellow into a soothing yellow that always made Cas feel at home. And though Sam always thought his soul was worthless, Cas felt that burnt orange was the most noble and remarkable soul he had ever seen.

Dean's had been green. A green that put the leaves of trees and the uncut grass to shame. A green that roared with life beyond anything Dean could ever fathom when Cas tried to speak of it. The green never wavered, in battle nor in slumber, and flowed so bright that sometimes Cas thought he could go blind from it.

Cas misses those souls the most. He misses watching the routine flow of them as he sits with the Winchesters. When Dean or Sam would heckle him for staring he would remember that they can't see the true beauty he is gazing upon. Now, all he has are eyes.

Castiel thinks back to the line he heard, of eyes being the window to the soul, and tries to rebuild the lava orange of Sam's spirit. He tries to recreate the spark of green in Dean's eyes that always signaled home. It wasn't the same, but it wasn't worse for some reason.

They were beautiful. Both of them, remarkable in ways Cas was now able to see. People were simple. They had faces and skin and eyes and lips. Without a soul to watch he found himself watched Sam's nose crinkle or Dean's lips draw up in a smile. When he was caught looking now he said the same thing, that they couldn't see the beauty that he did.

Souls were intangible, they were mystical and unfathomable. Without seeing them, was no less of a sight. Castiel sat at the bunker as he thought over these ponderings and watched Dean's green eyes spark with light as he babbled on about yesterday's hunt. Sometimes in those eyes he could still see the green that had been the shield for humanity.

"I swear to your Father, Cas, the dude was fucking huge!" Dean shouted with a childish grin as he tossed his hands into the air to demonstrate. "Biggest motherfucker I have ever seen!"

Cas nodded along, not really listening to the words more so than the volume of light behind his eyes. For a moment, Cas could see Dean's soul again. He never wanted it to fade from his vision. "What did you do?"

"Well, I called up Sammy but he was back at the motel so I..." Dean rattled on and comically motioned with his hands to illustrate every single detail.

The fallen angel couldn't help but smile along with Dean's rhythm. Every word was the paintbrush that depicted perfectly Dean's soul. Every loud snort caused a burst of green that took Cas' breath away. When the story came to a close, Dean let out a soft sigh and shook his head with a faraway look.

"Maybe next time you could come with us." Dean caught Cas' eye. "You would be a great hunter."

"I might 'give it a shot'." Cas even added the air quotes just to hear Dean's laugh again, just for another glimpse at a soul he was blinded from.

The hunter stood and clapped Cas on the shoulder softly. "Well, I am beat. You coming to bed?"

Cas nodded and stood to follow Dean toward their bedroom. When the crawled in together, Cas closed his eyes and imagined the gorgeous green light wrapping him up to protect him. A warm arm wrapped over his stomach and pulled him back against a solid chest.

"'Night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean."

After what felt like hours had slipped by, and a pleasant beat of snoring filled the room, Cas turned over and buried his face into Dean's neck. "I love you."