Twist And Shout Destiel (Not my story)

Part One

POV: Third person omniscient (Cas)

159870 years later

It’s been millenniums since he died.

Since he last saw Dean.

He had just wanted to close his eyes briefly then, to rest just for a little while. A little nap wouldn't hurt. All of that struggling, fighting, refusing to sink into oblivion, had exhausted him. The rhythmic and melodious crashing of the waves were soothing, and Dean's gentle touch on him reassured him that he was perfectly safe. He vaguely heard the latter talking about things he didn’t understand, and the low hum of a familiar tune. After that—

Darkness.

He had woken up again to a blinding light, and somehow, he knew he was dead. There were figures around him, shifting and moving about aimlessly. He tried to say something, but he couldn’t. He tried to raise his arm, but then he discovered that he had no limbs.

He appeared to be a blob of brightness. When he looked down to where his body should be, it wasn’t there. Oh well, I guess I have just died. Shouldn’t be that much of a surprise.

“Castiel Novak. Welcome.”

A voice spoke to him. It was neither shrill nor low, but merely…there. Actually, it didn’t even seem to be a voice, but more of a thought that was sent directly into his head.

Cas looked around at his surroundings and saw nothing but the blurry figures. He couldn’t identify where the voice was coming from.

“You have been chosen to be one of Heaven’s soldiers. You should be glad. We have evaluated you and deemed you appropriate to serve the Lord.”

--

After that, Cas traveled back to the beginning of time and watched the creation of Adam and Eve with his fellow angels. He then observed the first wars humans initiated against each other, and the construction of the Tower of Babel. He killed and slaughtered alongside the others, when the ten biblical plagues hit Egypt…

He had been commanded to take the life of nearly every first-born in the Egyptian families. He loomed over them, listening to their even breaths in the silence. What have they done? He thought. The decision was made by the pharaoh. What deeds so unforgivable have they committed to deserve this?

He claimed one life after another. He had no other choice. This boy might have a lover, he thought. Or this girl. They could be as in love as Dean and you have once been. It would destroy the other. Of all people, no, angels, you should know.

It tore at him, threatening to break him, to render him into the broken pieces he used to be when Dean had first left him. He couldn’t go through this, no, he didn’t want to be the one wreaking destruction unto others.

He still remembered the times when Dean was with him. When they were both stupidly happy. They had went to the beach, and they laughed. They hugged. They kissed. They lay tangled in the other’s arms, believing that nothing ever would separate them.

But they did.

And for all he knew, he was the one doing the separating now. Good God, what had he done to deserve this?

--

The millions of years have hardened him. Watching the bloodbaths across the centuries, punishing sinners for the Lord, killing millions of people for Heaven's sake... Cas has had to stop himself from feeling. From caring. It was better that way. He convinced himself, every time he was faced with the wide and frightened eyes of the man he was ordered to kill, that this was for the greater good. But that didn't stop his hands from trembling. It didn't stop the horrible flashbacks of bloodcurdling screams. But eventually,

they did.

He committed the acts with more and more ease with every year that passed. He could kill a woman begging for mercy without blinking so much as an eye. Other angels were proud of his progress, but deep down, he knew this wasn't right. He loathed himself.

What would Dean think? If he could see you now, he'd never love you. You've become a monster. A heartless monster.

“Castiel, there’s someone in Hell we need.”

A voice snapped Cas out of his daze. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “That’s unusual. If he’s been condemned to Hell, why should we even bother?”

“We have big plans for him. But, he has somehow made a contract with a demon, which was extremely idiotic of him, and now he’s stuck in the pit. We can’t use him if he isn't even alive. We decided that you and your troops should pay a little visit down there and yank him out. It probably wouldn’t take more than a day.”

“Okay. Name?”

“...Dean Winchester.”

Castiel froze. It was that name. The exact same one, with even the same last name.

“…What year is he from?”

“2007.”

Cas heaved out a sigh. So it wasn’t his Dean after all. How silly it was of him to think that, even if it’s just for a fraction of a second, that it was him. He had been warned not to go back to the era when he was still alive, or it would cause something terrible. But what it was exactly, they did not specify.

“I’ll set out as soon as possible.”