pre-play!
You know what's real? People. Families. That's what's real.
Everything Dean had said echoed in Castiel's mind, reverberated as he smeared the symbol on the wall.
"Castiel! Would you mind explaining just what the hell you're doing?"
Zachariah was walking toward them, but Castiel didn't back down. He barely gave Zachariah a second look before slamming his hand against the wall, the symbol, dripping of his/Jimmy's blood. The room was bathed in light and Zachariah was pulled back to Heaven. Castiel was doing this. They were doing this.
"He won't be gone long," Castiel warned Dean. "We have to find Sam now."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know, but I know who does," Castiel said, passing Dean the demon knife. "We have to stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith."
"But Lilith's gonna break the final seal--"
"Lilith is the final seal," Castiel growled. "She dies, the end begins."
Castiel could see it in Dean, the dawning realization, but there wasn't time to linger.
He took them to the prophet.
"-- Lady, sometimes you gotta live like there's no tomorrow," Chuck was saying into his phone as they appeared. He looked surprised to see them. He should. "W-wait, this isn't supposed to happen-- no, lady, this is definitely supposed to happen, but I just gotta call you back..."
Chuck hung up the phone and Dean explained the situation while Castiel waited, impatiently, at his side.
"...St. Mary's? What is that, a convent?" Dean was saying, looking up from the script Chuck had written.
Chuck looked confused, jittery, shoulders hunched like they were stuck in a permanent shrug. "Yeah, but, you guys aren't supposed to be there. You're not in this story."
"Yeah, well. We're makin' it up as we go," Castiel said. And maybe he sounded like Dean, right then. And maybe he felt something of a small thrill to feel the human's eyes on him when he said it.
But there wasn't time to dwell. Castiel felt it's presence moments before the house convulsed, lamps flickering only to be drowned out by the light of the archangel descending.
Chuck covered his ears. "Oh man, not again!"
"It's the archangel! I'll hold him off, I'll hold them all off!" Castiel shouted. "Just stop Sam!" He pressed his hand to Dean's forehead, sending him to the convent.
Castiel stood with Chuck and watched, waiting. Chuck gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but there was no time for such niceties. He held no illusions that he was a match for an archangel, should one choose to engage with him. But it would give Dean a chance. It would give him time to stop this.
The shaking got worse, the ground beneath them trembled, and then, in one sudden moment, it stopped.
It came upon Castiel like a tidal wave, the world.
The cloying humidity, the heat, the way the sun was too bright to look at, the way his mind could only think thoughts where am I, where am I, what is this?
His hands gripped his coat. They were shaking. This had never been a problem before.
Before.
Have I fallen? he thought to himself, in those distinct words. He was alone in Jimmy's body, it was like he was Jimmy. Yes, things were different in a vessel. Muted. Confined. Here it was more like there was simply less of him, like something had been severed or erased. He tried to speak with his true voice, and nothing happened. He tried to disappear and reappear elsewhere, and again, nothing.
No, this didn't make sense! He hadn't gone against God, only the angels. He shouldn't have fallen, not for this.
"Father," Castiel whispered, hearing a voice that barely sounded familiar to him, some mix of himself in Jimmy and Jimmy. He looked up, searching the sky. There was only the sun, blue, white clouds, a bird. It meant little to him, he couldn't see things the way he should, he couldn't...
Castiel's breath hitched, and he realized he was breathing. He hadn't ever breathed before. His hand raised, fingers spread across his chest, skin and bone protecting a heart that was beating inside a body that was now his. Something strange happened, his breathing became...weird. He tried to control it, but that only made it worse. His head felt strange. Light. Dizzy. It hurt, his body felt weak. Why had this happened to him? His body began to react to his panic, and he couldn't control it. He took a step forward, wobbled a bit and tried to sit, needing to breathe and needing the dizziness to end. Somehow it only got worse, and it was like he couldn't breathe at all.
Everything went black.
Everything Dean had said echoed in Castiel's mind, reverberated as he smeared the symbol on the wall.
"Castiel! Would you mind explaining just what the hell you're doing?"
Zachariah was walking toward them, but Castiel didn't back down. He barely gave Zachariah a second look before slamming his hand against the wall, the symbol, dripping of his/Jimmy's blood. The room was bathed in light and Zachariah was pulled back to Heaven. Castiel was doing this. They were doing this.
"He won't be gone long," Castiel warned Dean. "We have to find Sam now."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know, but I know who does," Castiel said, passing Dean the demon knife. "We have to stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith."
"But Lilith's gonna break the final seal--"
"Lilith is the final seal," Castiel growled. "She dies, the end begins."
Castiel could see it in Dean, the dawning realization, but there wasn't time to linger.
He took them to the prophet.
"-- Lady, sometimes you gotta live like there's no tomorrow," Chuck was saying into his phone as they appeared. He looked surprised to see them. He should. "W-wait, this isn't supposed to happen-- no, lady, this is definitely supposed to happen, but I just gotta call you back..."
Chuck hung up the phone and Dean explained the situation while Castiel waited, impatiently, at his side.
"...St. Mary's? What is that, a convent?" Dean was saying, looking up from the script Chuck had written.
Chuck looked confused, jittery, shoulders hunched like they were stuck in a permanent shrug. "Yeah, but, you guys aren't supposed to be there. You're not in this story."
"Yeah, well. We're makin' it up as we go," Castiel said. And maybe he sounded like Dean, right then. And maybe he felt something of a small thrill to feel the human's eyes on him when he said it.
But there wasn't time to dwell. Castiel felt it's presence moments before the house convulsed, lamps flickering only to be drowned out by the light of the archangel descending.
Chuck covered his ears. "Oh man, not again!"
"It's the archangel! I'll hold him off, I'll hold them all off!" Castiel shouted. "Just stop Sam!" He pressed his hand to Dean's forehead, sending him to the convent.
Castiel stood with Chuck and watched, waiting. Chuck gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but there was no time for such niceties. He held no illusions that he was a match for an archangel, should one choose to engage with him. But it would give Dean a chance. It would give him time to stop this.
The shaking got worse, the ground beneath them trembled, and then, in one sudden moment, it stopped.
It came upon Castiel like a tidal wave, the world.
The cloying humidity, the heat, the way the sun was too bright to look at, the way his mind could only think thoughts where am I, where am I, what is this?
His hands gripped his coat. They were shaking. This had never been a problem before.
Before.
Have I fallen? he thought to himself, in those distinct words. He was alone in Jimmy's body, it was like he was Jimmy. Yes, things were different in a vessel. Muted. Confined. Here it was more like there was simply less of him, like something had been severed or erased. He tried to speak with his true voice, and nothing happened. He tried to disappear and reappear elsewhere, and again, nothing.
No, this didn't make sense! He hadn't gone against God, only the angels. He shouldn't have fallen, not for this.
"Father," Castiel whispered, hearing a voice that barely sounded familiar to him, some mix of himself in Jimmy and Jimmy. He looked up, searching the sky. There was only the sun, blue, white clouds, a bird. It meant little to him, he couldn't see things the way he should, he couldn't...
Castiel's breath hitched, and he realized he was breathing. He hadn't ever breathed before. His hand raised, fingers spread across his chest, skin and bone protecting a heart that was beating inside a body that was now his. Something strange happened, his breathing became...weird. He tried to control it, but that only made it worse. His head felt strange. Light. Dizzy. It hurt, his body felt weak. Why had this happened to him? His body began to react to his panic, and he couldn't control it. He took a step forward, wobbled a bit and tried to sit, needing to breathe and needing the dizziness to end. Somehow it only got worse, and it was like he couldn't breathe at all.
Everything went black.