Just give me a sign...
Title: Just give me a sign...
Author: fate_incomplete
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: 6.20
Characters: Pre Dean/Castiel or Friendship, however you want to see it
Word Count: 800
Summary: For the prompt: Cas pleads for a sign. He gets what he prayed for. at the Two weeks in purgatory pre-finale commentfic party
The snow covered park was silent, his whispered pleas hanging in the silence, unanswered as he assumed they would be. Castiel's shoulders slumped as he dropped his head, closing his eyes against the pain, the exhaustion, and the regrets.
Freedom, free will, it all seemed like God's greatest joke. To dangle choices in front of his creations and watch them choose the wrong path, to tangle themselves up in conflicted circles of doubt and desperation. To make choices to protect those they cared for, only to crush their trust.
Even after it had all gone so wrong, he didn't know what other choices there had been, what choices could have led to a better outcome. If he hadn't made the deal with Crowley, he would most likely be dead now, maybe that would have been better after all. He hadn't wanted to burden Dean with his troubles, to drag him back under, yet Dean was tangled up in it all again anyway. He didn't know how to ask for help, then or now.
He sighed, his breath frosting in the air, yet he didn't feel the cold, not really. He stood up, his eyes to the sky again, searching for an absent father, searching for answers, hope, or anything.
He had been shrouded in doubts for so long, he had almost forgotten what it was to have purpose, to know what the right thing was, all the things that Dean had given him. He closed his eyes, and all he could see was the pain in Dean's eyes, Dean's voice echoing in his head. All the pain he had felt over the last few years, was nothing compared to what he had felt looking into Dean's eyes when he had known the truth.
He felt lost, caught between doing what he had to do to keep his friends safe, and trusting them to find another way. Drowning in the choices he had made and the choices still facing him. He could stop, he could go back to Dean and ask for his help, and wrap himself in the faith his friend had shown him, or he could keep barrelling along the course he had set in motion.
He just didn't know what to do. He had been so prideful, so stubborn in doing things on his own to keep them all safe. Yet he didn't want to lose the one person who had shown faith in him, the only 'brother' he wanted to stand with side by side.
He was tired, tired of the choices, of the regrets and doubts. He just wanted a sign, someone to tell him he was doing the right thing, making the right choice.
The snow at his feet stirred in a breeze, snowflakes clinging to the hem of his trench coat. He just wanted a sign, there had been so many warnings he had missed over the last year, and they taunted him now. He just wanted some clear sign, anything to hold onto, so he could move forward.
He closed his eyes, felt the wind stir around him, caressing him. He opened his eyes and turned to leave. He almost didn't see it, he almost walked away without looking. Yet this time he didn't miss it.
He stopped, his eyes transfixed on the bench where he had been sitting. With everything that had happened in the last year he had forgotten about it, hadn't given it a second thought sine he handed it back to Dean, lost and faithless.
He reached down and picked it up, tangling the leather around his fingers. Clinging to it in desperation and hope, wonder in his eyes at the thought that someone had been listening after all.
He didn't know what it meant, what message it was meant to reveal, but it didn't matter. It had been given to him once in trust, and that was what he held onto now. Trust. It didn't matter if he was right or wrong, it didn't matter if he died or not. He knew where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do. He had known it all along really, he had just been too afraid to reach out for it.
He tightened his grip on the leather, his thumb caressing the cold metal, feeling the patterns on the surface, his fingers tingling from some presence he couldn't quite describe.
There was only one place he wanted to be. He should have asked for help a long time ago. He had given his trust to Dean, and it was time to take hold of that again.
He closed his palm around the pendant, Dean's pendant, and disappeared, leaving a swirl of ice crystals in his wake.
It wasn't too late, it was never too late....
...................
Author: fate_incomplete
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: 6.20
Characters: Pre Dean/Castiel or Friendship, however you want to see it
Word Count: 800
Summary: For the prompt: Cas pleads for a sign. He gets what he prayed for. at the Two weeks in purgatory pre-finale commentfic party
The snow covered park was silent, his whispered pleas hanging in the silence, unanswered as he assumed they would be. Castiel's shoulders slumped as he dropped his head, closing his eyes against the pain, the exhaustion, and the regrets.
Freedom, free will, it all seemed like God's greatest joke. To dangle choices in front of his creations and watch them choose the wrong path, to tangle themselves up in conflicted circles of doubt and desperation. To make choices to protect those they cared for, only to crush their trust.
Even after it had all gone so wrong, he didn't know what other choices there had been, what choices could have led to a better outcome. If he hadn't made the deal with Crowley, he would most likely be dead now, maybe that would have been better after all. He hadn't wanted to burden Dean with his troubles, to drag him back under, yet Dean was tangled up in it all again anyway. He didn't know how to ask for help, then or now.
He sighed, his breath frosting in the air, yet he didn't feel the cold, not really. He stood up, his eyes to the sky again, searching for an absent father, searching for answers, hope, or anything.
He had been shrouded in doubts for so long, he had almost forgotten what it was to have purpose, to know what the right thing was, all the things that Dean had given him. He closed his eyes, and all he could see was the pain in Dean's eyes, Dean's voice echoing in his head. All the pain he had felt over the last few years, was nothing compared to what he had felt looking into Dean's eyes when he had known the truth.
He felt lost, caught between doing what he had to do to keep his friends safe, and trusting them to find another way. Drowning in the choices he had made and the choices still facing him. He could stop, he could go back to Dean and ask for his help, and wrap himself in the faith his friend had shown him, or he could keep barrelling along the course he had set in motion.
He just didn't know what to do. He had been so prideful, so stubborn in doing things on his own to keep them all safe. Yet he didn't want to lose the one person who had shown faith in him, the only 'brother' he wanted to stand with side by side.
He was tired, tired of the choices, of the regrets and doubts. He just wanted a sign, someone to tell him he was doing the right thing, making the right choice.
The snow at his feet stirred in a breeze, snowflakes clinging to the hem of his trench coat. He just wanted a sign, there had been so many warnings he had missed over the last year, and they taunted him now. He just wanted some clear sign, anything to hold onto, so he could move forward.
He closed his eyes, felt the wind stir around him, caressing him. He opened his eyes and turned to leave. He almost didn't see it, he almost walked away without looking. Yet this time he didn't miss it.
He stopped, his eyes transfixed on the bench where he had been sitting. With everything that had happened in the last year he had forgotten about it, hadn't given it a second thought sine he handed it back to Dean, lost and faithless.
He reached down and picked it up, tangling the leather around his fingers. Clinging to it in desperation and hope, wonder in his eyes at the thought that someone had been listening after all.
He didn't know what it meant, what message it was meant to reveal, but it didn't matter. It had been given to him once in trust, and that was what he held onto now. Trust. It didn't matter if he was right or wrong, it didn't matter if he died or not. He knew where he wanted to be, what he wanted to do. He had known it all along really, he had just been too afraid to reach out for it.
He tightened his grip on the leather, his thumb caressing the cold metal, feeling the patterns on the surface, his fingers tingling from some presence he couldn't quite describe.
There was only one place he wanted to be. He should have asked for help a long time ago. He had given his trust to Dean, and it was time to take hold of that again.
He closed his palm around the pendant, Dean's pendant, and disappeared, leaving a swirl of ice crystals in his wake.
It wasn't too late, it was never too late....
...................