Castiel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
toomuchheart) wrote2011-11-26 01:28 am
toomuchheart) wrote2011-11-26 01:28 am
Entry tags:
sans exceptions } { 47. birthday party
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beyondtherift, but far in the future. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starryeyed_cass is used with permission and love. Everyone else is referenced with love and not binding on any of the muses, but are people important to Castiel, therefore worth mentioning.]
It takes a long time for an angel to lose his grace.
One would expect it to happen faster, in a world with no Heaven, but that is a way in which the Rifts work to his favor. One of them, somewhere, keeps him tethered to his world, to his Heaven, and feeds his abilities, but slowly, whatever that Rift is, it starts to close, and Castiel’s power goes with it, slowly, piece by piece. He doesn’t feel it at first, but as the years pass and time goes by, he slowly gets weaker and weaker. He still doesn’t age, but at the same time, he progressively gets a bit more … human.
Ten years pass, twenty, thirty—he sees fifty years of Chicago’s twists and changes. He watches friends come and go, live, die, disappear, but all the while he stays the same—a constant, unmoving, unchangeable force through it all. He doesn’t become more, not in any sense that he can understand—he feels himself becoming less every day, but he’s there, and that, at least, never changes.
***
Castiel never really learns to use a door properly—even as time passes, and his power slowly ebbs away, he always forgets to announce his presence somehow. It’s hard to erase six thousand years of habit, even when you can feel the power slowly draining out of you every day. Teleportation is actually the last thing to go, all of his other abilities disappear, but he still manages to pop in and surprise people every once in a while. Most of his friends are used to it at this point, and there is less surprise on their faces, but new Wanderers never really adjust. Every time, it’s a process, but if Castiel has gained anything in Chicago, it’s patience.
The Winchesters never stay. They come, and they stay for a while, but eventually they are killed or disappear. It is the way with heroes—you can’t really save them, especially from themselves. The last time Castiel sees Dean, the man dies in his arms, caught off guard by a Rakshasa demon, and Castiel couldn’t get there in time. The last time Castiel sees Sam, he uses some of the last bits of power he has to save Sam from his own fractured mind.
The last time he sees Jo, she’s swept up through a tornado that has come through the Rift. They never find her body, so he can only hope that she landed somewhere safe.
Most of his other mortal friends don’t make it out of the first decade. That is the nature of Chicago after all—lives there are meant to be short and brutal, lived at the whims of the Rifts and those that inhabit it. Even if they don’t lose their lives, somewhere along the way they lose themselves. No one ever comes out of Chicago the same way they come in—even a being as unchangeable as Castiel can attest to that.
Cassie manages to survive Chicago, living long enough to have the silvery gray of age streak her hair. He’s unsure how this happens—whether it’s simply luck or something Cassie does, Castiel isn’t sure, but he’s grateful that she is the one unchanging constant in his life. Slowly the group of friends and family that they have come to love in Chicago thins, but in the end they still have each other. She ages, marries, has children, builds herself a life in Chicago, and all the while Castiel watches over her as best he can. These are things that he will never have, never appreciate the way he should but through her, he learns why they mean so much. Through her, he sees what family should be—undying love and compassion and everything that makes a person who they are. The emotions are vicarious and fleeting, but for those brief moments, he feels as though he’s part of something.
The last time Castiel sees her before he dies, he knocks.
It’s her birthday. She’s moved back into the Kashtta, rebuilt by the Wanderer community after a radical group burns it to the ground in 2036. Some many lives have been lost, but lives are always lost. What matters is that they find a way to rebuild in the end. This is another thing Castiel has learned from humans—perseverance above all else.
His teleportation doesn’t work the way it used to—narrowing down a specific location isn’t as accurate anymore, and most of the time, it’s more efficient just to walk. Besides, it is not worth the energy for such a short distance. Castiel’s new room is right down the hall from Cassie’s and it’s easier to just walk and knock on the door to announce his arrival. When she turns to greet him, it’s still the same smile he remembers from all those years ago, even if it’s a little older and a lot wiser.
“Hello, Cas.”
He smiles softly, before moving to sit next to her. “Hello Cassie.”
***
He spends the evening with her. They have cake, a birthday tradition he appreciates, but doesn’t understand, and he gives her the gift he picked out for her. Eventually, she tells him that she needs her rest, and he honors the request, but he is not tired yet. There are moments, brief fits where he finds himself drifting off—part of his progression to actual humanity—but now isn’t one of those times. He waits until Cassie goes to sleep, and as he leaves, there’s something that draws him out to the streets of Chicago.
Fifty years ago, he would have been able to recognize the call of one of his brothers instantly. Now, it isn’t until he’s made his way to Grant Park that he’s realized his mistake. He never sees his face, just feels the presence over his shoulder, one that he hasn’t felt in a long time, and makes him straighten on instinct alone.
“Castiel.”
No one has called him that in fifty years.
“Hello, Raphael.”
The end of a person’s life in Chicago is designed to be short, violent and messy.
Castiel’s is no exception.
1028 words
beyondtherift, but far in the future. starryeyed_cass is used with permission and love. Everyone else is referenced with love and not binding on any of the muses, but are people important to Castiel, therefore worth mentioning.]It takes a long time for an angel to lose his grace.
One would expect it to happen faster, in a world with no Heaven, but that is a way in which the Rifts work to his favor. One of them, somewhere, keeps him tethered to his world, to his Heaven, and feeds his abilities, but slowly, whatever that Rift is, it starts to close, and Castiel’s power goes with it, slowly, piece by piece. He doesn’t feel it at first, but as the years pass and time goes by, he slowly gets weaker and weaker. He still doesn’t age, but at the same time, he progressively gets a bit more … human.
Ten years pass, twenty, thirty—he sees fifty years of Chicago’s twists and changes. He watches friends come and go, live, die, disappear, but all the while he stays the same—a constant, unmoving, unchangeable force through it all. He doesn’t become more, not in any sense that he can understand—he feels himself becoming less every day, but he’s there, and that, at least, never changes.
***
Castiel never really learns to use a door properly—even as time passes, and his power slowly ebbs away, he always forgets to announce his presence somehow. It’s hard to erase six thousand years of habit, even when you can feel the power slowly draining out of you every day. Teleportation is actually the last thing to go, all of his other abilities disappear, but he still manages to pop in and surprise people every once in a while. Most of his friends are used to it at this point, and there is less surprise on their faces, but new Wanderers never really adjust. Every time, it’s a process, but if Castiel has gained anything in Chicago, it’s patience.
The Winchesters never stay. They come, and they stay for a while, but eventually they are killed or disappear. It is the way with heroes—you can’t really save them, especially from themselves. The last time Castiel sees Dean, the man dies in his arms, caught off guard by a Rakshasa demon, and Castiel couldn’t get there in time. The last time Castiel sees Sam, he uses some of the last bits of power he has to save Sam from his own fractured mind.
The last time he sees Jo, she’s swept up through a tornado that has come through the Rift. They never find her body, so he can only hope that she landed somewhere safe.
Most of his other mortal friends don’t make it out of the first decade. That is the nature of Chicago after all—lives there are meant to be short and brutal, lived at the whims of the Rifts and those that inhabit it. Even if they don’t lose their lives, somewhere along the way they lose themselves. No one ever comes out of Chicago the same way they come in—even a being as unchangeable as Castiel can attest to that.
Cassie manages to survive Chicago, living long enough to have the silvery gray of age streak her hair. He’s unsure how this happens—whether it’s simply luck or something Cassie does, Castiel isn’t sure, but he’s grateful that she is the one unchanging constant in his life. Slowly the group of friends and family that they have come to love in Chicago thins, but in the end they still have each other. She ages, marries, has children, builds herself a life in Chicago, and all the while Castiel watches over her as best he can. These are things that he will never have, never appreciate the way he should but through her, he learns why they mean so much. Through her, he sees what family should be—undying love and compassion and everything that makes a person who they are. The emotions are vicarious and fleeting, but for those brief moments, he feels as though he’s part of something.
The last time Castiel sees her before he dies, he knocks.
It’s her birthday. She’s moved back into the Kashtta, rebuilt by the Wanderer community after a radical group burns it to the ground in 2036. Some many lives have been lost, but lives are always lost. What matters is that they find a way to rebuild in the end. This is another thing Castiel has learned from humans—perseverance above all else.
His teleportation doesn’t work the way it used to—narrowing down a specific location isn’t as accurate anymore, and most of the time, it’s more efficient just to walk. Besides, it is not worth the energy for such a short distance. Castiel’s new room is right down the hall from Cassie’s and it’s easier to just walk and knock on the door to announce his arrival. When she turns to greet him, it’s still the same smile he remembers from all those years ago, even if it’s a little older and a lot wiser.
“Hello, Cas.”
He smiles softly, before moving to sit next to her. “Hello Cassie.”
***
He spends the evening with her. They have cake, a birthday tradition he appreciates, but doesn’t understand, and he gives her the gift he picked out for her. Eventually, she tells him that she needs her rest, and he honors the request, but he is not tired yet. There are moments, brief fits where he finds himself drifting off—part of his progression to actual humanity—but now isn’t one of those times. He waits until Cassie goes to sleep, and as he leaves, there’s something that draws him out to the streets of Chicago.
Fifty years ago, he would have been able to recognize the call of one of his brothers instantly. Now, it isn’t until he’s made his way to Grant Park that he’s realized his mistake. He never sees his face, just feels the presence over his shoulder, one that he hasn’t felt in a long time, and makes him straighten on instinct alone.
“Castiel.”
No one has called him that in fifty years.
“Hello, Raphael.”
The end of a person’s life in Chicago is designed to be short, violent and messy.
Castiel’s is no exception.
1028 words
no subject
This was so beautifully written, and I loved reading it more than I can say, but it hurt my very soul. ;_____;
no subject
But I'm glad you liked it.
no subject
Poor, poor Cas.
This was lovely, but yes, like Ella said. Just. All my creys right now. Srsly, actually crying. ;__;
<3333333333333
no subject
I'm really glad you liked it.
no subject
But amazing job writing it, seriously. I loved reading it, and I really love how you captured his relationship with Cassie and the ending was fff /no words for how awesome and painfully written it is. ;;
Especially those last 5 lines.
no subject
I'm glad you liked it.