When Heaven Calls

History Calls

"Castiel?" Another memory started, interrupting his attempt to regain consciousness. Now what? He was hovering over a medievil village, piles of bodies were being burned and the death carts were bringing more. As the memory solidifed Hannah, in her angel form, came into view. She stood next to him, confused and somewhat concerned. 1349, when Hannah got her first glimpse at my disobedient nature.

"What are you doing? Aren't we supposed to observe and not interact?" Hannah asked. This memory was much more recent, relatively. The Black Plague was ravaging Europe, thousands upon thousands of voices had echoed in his mind. Humans praying for healing, for salvation, for some sign that God cared. At first he had steadfastly ignored their cries, he had other missions, other orders but millions of them were perishing.  

He answered her question with a question, "Our prime mission is to be their shepherd, isn't it? Their protector? Father created us to help them."

"But our orders? Are you not disobeying them?" She pressed, "The ones above you, the Seraphs, they stated.." 

"They are not here," He cut her off, "And the humans, our Father's greatest creations, suffer needlessly." 

Her wings fluttered nervously, "They will sense if you save them Castiel. They will know you have disobeyed." 

"Then you should leave," he replied, "This is my choice." 

"Choice? What is that?" 

He looked at her. She was a beautiful being of blue light. Her eyes gleamed white with divine fire and multicolored wings stretched behind her, covering the village with their immensity. If they were appearing in the physical realm both he and her could have easily stepped over the entire village in one stride. "Choice is doing what is right, even when others disagree. Leave Hannah, the Seraph's wrath need not fall upon you." 

"Castiel?" He could sense her unease, the fire in her eyes dimmed as she fought with the concept. "I.." 

He fell back on the sense of structure, rank and obedience that she was still so beholden to, "Go Hannah, that is an order."  

"Yes Captain!" She instinctively replied then vanished. To obey orders was so built into her, them that as soon as he said that phrase all other thoughts she may have had were pushed aside. Casting his angelic sense out into the far reaches of Heaven, he searched for any Seraphs or of his superiors anywhere in the vicinity. He had to be quick, if they did sense what he planned to do the punishment would be swift. They all seemed to be preoccupied or far enough away that if he was subtle they would most likely not pick up on what he had done. It took nothing more than a thought and a slight wave of his hand and the Plague was gone from the remaining villagers. He adjusted the survivors immune systems so they would not suffer from it again and immediately sent himself to a completely different dimension. I got away with it that time. Other times, I was not so lucky. How many times was I reprogrammed and why did I always fight what I was programmed to do? Did God make me this way? If so, why? Would that mean that he made Lucifer the way he was as well? None of these thoughts are pertinent to my current situation.  Sam and Dean, I must wake up. 

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Dean had grabbed Cas's legs to help Sam carry the angel down the stairs into the bunker, "What the hell happened to him?" 

"No idea," Sam replied as he lifted Cas's torso over the railing to negotiate a turn, "The more important question is why hasn't he healed himself? I thought he had gotten some new Grace." 

"He did. Maybe it was low quality? We really need to sit him down some day and get details on this stolen Grace situation." 

"Yeah. Here. Set him down so we can get a look at him before we put him in a room." They laid Cas on the floor, pulled off his coat and worked his shirt off. There were multiple stab wounds, several were still bleeding and more contusions than the brothers could count. "Damn!" Sam muttered under his breath. He looked across at Dean and the rage rising in his brother's eyes chilled him the bone. He understood why Dean was angry, he was too, but what he saw in Dean's face wasn't Dean's rage. It was something else, something older and much deadlier. 

"Dean? Go get the first aid kit. I'll get towels and start cleaning these off." Sam desperately hoped he could cut through whatever was driving his brother and get him rational again. Dean's eyes went out of focus for a brief moment and his fist slammed into the ground. Then Dean was back and the other influence was gone.

"Yeah. Got it." He stood up and left the room, leaving Sam wondering if he should hide the keys to the car before Dean tore off hunting whoever had done this to Cas. He went into the bathroom and grabbed the extra towels and hydrogen peroxide and got back to Cas just as Dean re-entered the room with the kit. They didn't speak as Sam started wiping blood and dumping peroxide into Cas's wounds while Dean prepped the needles and thread. 

"Who would have ever thought we'd be stitching up an angel?" Dean muttered. "Who was beating on him and why? Look at the rope burns, he was tied up for a few hours at least. He said Heaven was relatively back in order. This makes no sense." 

Sam cleaned another wound as Dean started stitching, "It's not like he's been back there all that much recently, I've kind of gotten the feeling that he doesn't want to go back." 

"Can't say I blame him, angels are pretty much dicks." 

Sam couldn't disagree. They stopped talking and focused on the task at hand. As soon as the wounds were all closed they picked him back up, carried him into a spare room and set him on a bed. Sam walked back to the main room, grabbed two of the chairs, took them into the room and set one on either side of the bed. "May as well get some coffee going. He'll probably be out for a few hours, hopefully he doesn't get an infection." 

Dean furrowed his brow, "Don't think angels have to worry about that."

"Don't be so sure. While you were," Sam paused, "Away, he was in pretty bad shape when his Grace was close to fading out. Coughing, weak. He was pretty wiped out. If he is close to that now with all these wounds.." Sam shrugged. 

"Great. Guess we're angel ER now. Damn it Cas! You could have come earlier if you were in trouble." 

"He'll pull through, He always has before. Be right back." Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder as he walked out to start the coffee.

Dean looked at Cas's face, their conversation after he had gotten out of Purgatory raced through his mind. "Cas, you paid your debt. You best not be carrying around that guilt still, thinking you're done. I carry enough around for both of us." 

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I have to stop them. I know how they think, no more angels should die to keep me alive. WAKE UP!