An Angel's Love

Castiel - Something Wrong

Castiel needed to prove himself to her. Prove he wasn’t wrathful or deceitful. He was just. She was right when she pointed out he had only harmed people. He had to rectify that. Then she would see. She would love him like before.

He went somewhere normal. A street, much alike those that Sam and Dean travelled through every day. He watched his target, a blind, homeless man sitting out front a shop.

“Some help, please. Please. Help. So helpless.” The man said, holding out a silver cup. Castiel dropped in some coins. His hands had blistered again, but as soon as Cas had finished healing the world, he would repair his body. Not the other way round.  

“God bless you, Sir.”

“You're a true believer.” Castiel said, needing to talk to someone, to express how he felt. “People say I'm wrathful, but I only punish liars and those who forsake me. I am a just God.” He said with conviction, trying to force himself to believe it. But the words did not ring as true as they had before Auzura.

“Excuse me?” the man asked, clearly confused. Cas leant over and touched the man’s forehead. The man’s eyes closed. Castiel removed his hand.

“See.” Castiel commanded. The man opened his eyes and the sightless blue darkened as his sight was returned.  

“Oh my God, I can see!” the man said, his voice full of gratitude. He looked to his saviour and his face fell.  “Your face… What's wrong with you?” The man asked worried. Castiel disappeared.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was blistered now. He could hear voices, in his head. And his stomach…there were hands, reaching out, trying to escape.

“Let us out,” they commanded.

“No.” Castiel said, and fought them back.  Once he was sure he had them under control, he continued his cleansing.

Something was wrong, he realised. Death. The Winchesters had captured Death. He teleported himself there.

“Amazing.” He said to himself. The others turned to him. Cas’ eyes flickered to Death’s.

“Cas,” Sam said.

“I didn't want to kill you, but now...” Cas continued.

“You can’t kill us,” Dean said softly.

“You’ve erased any nostalgia I had for you, Dean.” Cas said, his voice rising slightly with anger. He raised  his hand and was about to destroy him, when Dean interrupted confidently.

“Death is our bitch.” Cas tilted his head to look at Death. Dean was telling the truth. Cas’ hand lowered. “We ain't gonna die, even if God pulls the trigger.”

“Annoying little protozoa, aren't they?” Death added. “ "God"?” he asked, cocking his head in incredibility. “You look awfully like a mutated angel to me. Your vessel's melting. You're going to explode.” Death informed him.

“No, I'm not.” Cas replied assuredly. “When I've finished my work, I'll repair myself.”

“You think you can because you think you're simply under the weight of all those souls, yes? But that's not the worst problem. There are things much older than souls in Purgatory, and you gulped those in, too.”

“Irrelevant. I control them.” Cas said emotionlessly.

“For the moment,” Death pointed out.

“Wait -- uh, what older things?” Dean asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Long before God created Angel and man, he made the first beasts -- the Leviathans.” Death informed him.

“Leviathans?” Dean asked.

“I personally found them entertaining, but he was concerned they'd chomp the entire petri dish, so he locked them away. Why do you think he created Purgatory? To keep those clever, poisonous things out. Now Castiel has swallowed them. He's the one thin membrane between the old ones and your home.”

Castiel absorbed this new information. Leviathans. He had heard of them. Myths even among angels.

“Enough.” He commanded, but Death refused to listen.

“Stupid little soldier you are.”

“Why?” Cas asked, walking towards Death. “Because I dared open a door that he shut? Where is he? I did a service, taking his place.”

“Service? Settling petty vendettas?” Death mocked.

“No.” Cas responded, barely keeping the anger out of his voice. “ I'm cleaning up one mess after another -- selflessly.”

“Quite the humanitarian.” Death said, trying to provoke him.

“And how would you know? What are you, really? A flyswatter?”

“Destined to swat you, I think.” Death threatened.

“Unless I take you first.” Cas responded.

“Really bought his own press, this one.” Death said, turning away. “Please, Cass. I know God, and you, sir, are no God.”

“All right, put your junk away, both of you.” Dean interrupted. “Look, call him what you want. Just kill him now!”

Cas turned to Dean, staring at the man who he once called friend.

“All right. Fine.” Death said, reaching up to tap Cas’ head. Cas clicked and the chains binding Death disappeared. Death pulled away his hand and looked at it in something akin to shock. “Thank you,” he said. “Shall we kickbox now?” he asked. Cas looked at him. “I had a tingle I'd be reaping someone very, very soon.” Death said, walking to sit down on a leather chair near the wall, and grabbing a bag of fast food. Cas knew there was nothing more to say, so he teleported away.

He materialised outside of Senator Walker’s office. 

An aid approached him. “Sir? Can I help you?”

“I'm here to see the Senator.” He responded.

“Um, regarding?” The aid asked, clearly not sure how to respond to the injured man.

“Abuse of power.” Cas said, cutting to the heart of the matter.

“Excuse me?” the aid asked, surprised.

“I am not petty. I'm punishing a woman who causes poverty and despair in my name. I put your needs first. Don't you understand? All of you. I am a better God than my father. How can I make you understand?” They had all turned on him – Balthazar, the Brothers, Auzura.  How could they not see the benefit?

“Cass,” the voices called and Cass blacked out, to awaken to an office full of dead bodies.

“No, no, no.” he said. He hadn’t meant to kill them all. Just her. Just Walker. They were all dead. He had lost control. But what could he do? Auzura. Auzura would help. She’d know what to do, he reasoned. He teleported away.