Fic: Unrighteous Hands
Title: Unrighteous Hands
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: G
Warning: Spoilers for 7x22
Summary: Castiel in Purgatory.
In seconds, Castiel knew exactly where they were.
He could smell it in the air and feel it in his heart, that this was a place long-neglected by his Father. Even Hell smelt of greater regard than this. Purgatory was Creation’s dumping ground.
Dean came to by his side, but every instinct told the angel to flee, and he did. Not for his own sake, but his friend’s. Castiel could feel the strength of his own light here, and he knew others would too. The safest place for Dean was as far away from him as possible.
For a second, Castiel thought he still stood in the same place, but everything here looked alike. He remained utterly still; this place seemed to move on its own. Branches shuffled all around. Very suddenly, Cas knew he wasn’t alone.
A screeching roar erupted from behind but he turned swiftly and caught the wraith by the forehead. She was gone with a quick snap. Where she would go to now, he didn’t know. He couldn’t sense any more souls in his immediate vicinity and dropped his gaze. His hands were still covered in black gunk. For the first time, Castiel considered how odd it was to have been sent to Purgatory with his vessel.
In an instant he moved again. This time he had landed by a small pond, black glass with no light to reflect and no wind to ripple its surface. Kneeling by the bank, he waded his hands in the shallow water. It was inexplicably tranquil, but Cas did not let himself feel any sense of comfort. He knew well that no matter how far he fled, there would always be predators shortly behind. He was holy fire in a pit of darkness, alight for every soul to see. And if that wasn’t enough, they had the scent of his insides engrained within each and every one of them. He had housed them all for a time, after all.
A grimace swept across his face as guilt filtered into his heart. Castiel knew he had caused hardships much greater than the one he now faced, and it was not just that he should walk away freely, as he had. The angel longed to atone, and this was the only place where he could.
The water washing over his hands was warm, and his skin pale beneath the black. Castiel only saw unrighteous hands, and he prayed, should his Father here him here, that he may be allowed to pay his penance. That he may keep Dean Winchester, the only righteous man here, protected.
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: G
Warning: Spoilers for 7x22
Summary: Castiel in Purgatory.
In seconds, Castiel knew exactly where they were.
He could smell it in the air and feel it in his heart, that this was a place long-neglected by his Father. Even Hell smelt of greater regard than this. Purgatory was Creation’s dumping ground.
Dean came to by his side, but every instinct told the angel to flee, and he did. Not for his own sake, but his friend’s. Castiel could feel the strength of his own light here, and he knew others would too. The safest place for Dean was as far away from him as possible.
For a second, Castiel thought he still stood in the same place, but everything here looked alike. He remained utterly still; this place seemed to move on its own. Branches shuffled all around. Very suddenly, Cas knew he wasn’t alone.
A screeching roar erupted from behind but he turned swiftly and caught the wraith by the forehead. She was gone with a quick snap. Where she would go to now, he didn’t know. He couldn’t sense any more souls in his immediate vicinity and dropped his gaze. His hands were still covered in black gunk. For the first time, Castiel considered how odd it was to have been sent to Purgatory with his vessel.
In an instant he moved again. This time he had landed by a small pond, black glass with no light to reflect and no wind to ripple its surface. Kneeling by the bank, he waded his hands in the shallow water. It was inexplicably tranquil, but Cas did not let himself feel any sense of comfort. He knew well that no matter how far he fled, there would always be predators shortly behind. He was holy fire in a pit of darkness, alight for every soul to see. And if that wasn’t enough, they had the scent of his insides engrained within each and every one of them. He had housed them all for a time, after all.
A grimace swept across his face as guilt filtered into his heart. Castiel knew he had caused hardships much greater than the one he now faced, and it was not just that he should walk away freely, as he had. The angel longed to atone, and this was the only place where he could.
The water washing over his hands was warm, and his skin pale beneath the black. Castiel only saw unrighteous hands, and he prayed, should his Father here him here, that he may be allowed to pay his penance. That he may keep Dean Winchester, the only righteous man here, protected.