Fic: The Shattered One (4/?)
See the masterpost for disclaimer, summary, and previous parts.
His journey back from Israel had taken a great deal out him. When the Winchesters offered him a ride in their car after dinner, Castiel barely hesitated before he accepted. He’d grown oddly accustomed to the ponderous mode of transportation. At times it was claustrophobic and maddeningly slow, but since the draining of his grace, Castiel had a new appreciation for the vehicle. It might get him there days after he might have reached his destination himself, but surrendering that expediency allowed him rest without abandoning the notion of motion. He was ‘taking a break’, yes, but he wasn’t doing nothing. They were on their way to the next battle.
Castiel leaned back against the seat in the rear of the car and watched the brothers bicker about the choice of music. Sam complained of tiring of the same rock music over and over. Dean insisted they couldn’t ride into the battle of the Apocalypse to Six Pence. That seemed to be some manner of insult, from the way Sam reacted. Castiel didn’t understand half of what they said, but for once he didn’t let it trouble him. He slid down in the seat until the back of his head rested on the seatback. There was a warm sense of relaxation when he got to stop holding his own head up. He had to crack a half-smile at that… Castiel, angel of the Lord, who had pulled Dean Winchester from Hell, enjoying the freedom of not having to bear the burden of his own head’s weight. If Uriel were alive, he’d be shaking the heavens with his laughter.
It was growing dark outside the car’s windows, and Dean was attempting to drag him into the music war happening in the front seat. “Cas is on my side, so that’s two to one.”
“What? Oh, come on, like he even knows who Zeppelin is, and since when was the music selection a democratic process?”
“Since Cas is on my side… isn’t that right, Cas?”
Whatever small victory Dean was trying to secure, Castiel was content to give it to him. “Of course, Dean.” He hoped his show of support would end the argument and they could both stop talking so loudly.
Dean make a triumphant noise and Sam just groaned. “You don’t have to side with Dean just because...”
“Because what?” Dean quipped. “Go on, finish that sentence, Sammy. I dare you. Don’t worry about offending the angel in the backseat or anything.”
Sam bit his lip.
Castiel sighed, eager to end the discussion. “I would like a Zeppelin.”
Sam threw up his hands in disgust. Dean just barked out a laugh. “You heard him, Sammy, angel wants a Zeppelin. And a Zeppelin you will get, my friend.” Dean found the tape and soon music replaced the brothers’ voices.
Castiel sank into the seat, as if he’d turned boneless. It was nice. It felt a bit dissociative… like he’d accidentally fallen into a meditative trance. The brothers were right in front of him, and yet somehow they seemed very far away. The music filled the car, but little by little the sound faded into some unseen distance. For a while he seemed to float, neither part of his grace nor his vessel. It was something else, ethereal, and the shattered one was not part of it.
Castiel reveled in the feeling… he knew, intellectually, that the shattered one remained, but in this hazy fugue, it felt like it was gone. He was free. Death could not find him now, in this state. It was a lie he could almost believe here.
The black outside began to steal inside, and the Winchesters slowly began to fade into darkness. It should have been frightening, but Castiel was not afraid. He let the black roll in and fill up the car. It drowned out the music and left him numb to his vessel. He wasn’t even Castiel now… just a drifter. A mote in blackness. The anonymity and insignificance was comforting.
Then he was no longer in the car. He was on a dock, water glinting prettily in the sunlight. Castiel looked down at his side, expecting Dean.
That’s when he realized…
“This is a dream.”
He’d been inside a dream before, but never his own. It was disorienting. It also meant he’d fallen asleep. He didn’t know he even knew how to do that. It was strange to know he was in two places… one being the backseat of the Impala, the other being here, overlooking a placid lake. For a second, the dichotomy panicked him, then the sensation bled away and he was content. Here was a world where no one was hunting him, where he had no war to win.
He was on the cusp of attempting to enjoy it when suddenly the water turned black and a cold breeze gusted against his coat. He felt, sensed, knew... he didn’t need to look to know what had joined his dreamscape.
“I gotta say, little brother, I didn’t think you had this in you.”
Castiel turned sharply and there stood Lucifer, hands in his pockets and regarding Castiel with a keen eye and cocked head. He looked fascinated and disgusted all at once.
“Lucifer.”
Lucifer’s lips twitched in a cold smile. “Dreaming now, Castiel? How human of you. Of course, that definitely isn’t human.” He jerked his chin in the direction of Castiel’s chest.
Castiel looked down and gaped. He could see through his clothes, through the flesh and bone of his vessel, straight through to the burning white light of his grace. Crowded against his own light was the balled up shattered one, shining at its own intensity, shimmering to its own rhythm. It shifted and for half a second it had a face, miniature hands, tucked legs, and a curved back… for a heartbeat, it was a human fetus.
Lucifer scoffed. “Wow… really, Castiel? You’ve gone that native?” Lucifer moseyed closer. Castiel took a step back… he wanted to take another, but his heel went off the edge of the dock and he nearly went over into the water. It had looked peaceful a second ago, but now he feared what lurked beneath the black surface.
Lucifer, for his part, didn’t make any aggressive moves against him. He just ambled closer and peered at the shattered one, on display inside Castiel for all to see. Castiel flinched away and tried to cover himself and the shattered one with his arms. Castiel might begrudge the shattered one existence, but nothing deserved Lucifer’s gaze.
Lucifer lifted his eyebrows at the gesture, then stood back a pace. “So… you’re in trouble. Fallen shattered angel… no one’s going to come to your rescue when that thing’s ready to separate. None of the other angels will even touch you… except to kill you.”
“I’m aware of my situation.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you are. Makes you wonder, though, doesn’t it? I mean, why would our Father do this to you now? Seems cruel, don’t you think?”
Castiel did, and had, but he would never admit to sharing doubts with Lucifer.
“You think the others found a way to do this to you?”
Castiel blinked. “You mean… the other angels?”
Lucifer nodded. “Effective way to eliminate you, isn’t it? Maybe they can’t get a hold of you to do it themselves, but in due time, that shattered one will do it for them.”
Castiel hadn’t considered that possibility. He didn’t want to believe his brothers and sisters would do such a thing to one of their own…
Then again, there stood Lucifer, the angel cast down to Hell by his own brother, Michael. It suddenly didn’t seem so unfathomable. And Castiel felt heartsick at the thought.
“So, tell me, Castiel… how’s it feel knowing you’re going to die?”
“Unjust,” Castiel mumbled.
Lucifer snorted. “Preaching to the choir, little brother. I know exactly how you feel.”
Castiel wanted to protest that he couldn’t, but right now he wasn’t so certain.
“I can help you, you know,” Lucifer said softly, voice all silver and honey.
Castiel’s head jerked up. “What?”
Lucifer gestured toward Castiel’s chest. “Our righteous and loving brothers and sisters might have abandoned you - us - but I can help you. I can save you.”
Castiel didn’t know what to say.
Lucifer smiled. “We’re a lot alike, Castiel. Misunderstood. Mistreated. Cast aside. Wanted dead for daring to question. It doesn’t have to be that way. Not for us. You miss the others. I know you do. I miss them, too. Even when they hate me, I miss them. Even when I have to tear them down, I miss them. We weren’t built to be alone. But you and I don’t have to be. Wouldn’t it be comforting to be with a brother again?”
It would. Heaven help Castiel, but it would.
“I’ll give you what you need… when the time comes, you can have a part of my grace to complete the separation. You don’t have to die, Castiel. You can live, and we will stand together. You, me, and the little one.”
For a moment it was tempting… but then reason reared its head and Castiel stood his ground. “No.”
“No?”
“I can well imagine the horror that would be born of an angel created out of your twisted grace. I will not endanger humanity by allowing that to happen. You are enough of a threat without permitting another one like you to come into existence.”
“Don’t think much of your good influence on the little guy, do you?”
Castiel narrowed his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Lucifer. You are an archangel. My grace would drown in yours.”
Lucifer gave a ‘true enough’ shrug and eyed Castiel. “So you’ll just what… die?”
“If that is His will.”
Lucifer cackled. “Oh, Castiel, listen to yourself! His will? You think He even cares anymore? He gave up on this planet long ago. But He was wrong… the world deserves to be saved. All it needs is a good delousing.”
“Humanity is not the plague you think it is.”
“Isn’t it, though? Impudent little cockroaches who dare to flaunt the mercy He gave them?” Lucifer stopped and cocked his head at Castiel. “You’re fond of them, aren’t you?”
Castiel said nothing.
It didn’t matter. Lucifer saw through him as easily as Castiel peered into Dean’s inner thoughts.
“Or one of them, at least. I hope he’s worth it.”
“He is.”
“We’ll see if you still think so when your grace is being torn in half.” Lucifer moved a step back. “The offer stands, Castiel. When the pain is too much to bear, and the other angels won’t hear your cries, I’ll be there.”
“I will not call for you.”
A slow, wicked grin spread over his face. “We’ll see.”
“Cas… Cas…?”
Castiel startled at a sense of falling and suddenly he was back in the Impala. Dean was leaning over the front seat, shaking him.
“What…?”
“Dude, you were sleeping. And having a nightmare, from the looks of it.” Dean’s hand on his shoulder turned gentle. Concern laced his voice as he asked, “Since when did you start sleeping?”
Castiel frowned and pushed up from his slouched position in the seat. “That was the first time.” It had started out pleasant, but all in all Castiel could not say he enjoyed the experience as a whole.
Dean regarded him quietly in the darkness. When Castiel gave him a questioning look, Dean sighed. “Well, we’ve stopped for the night. Sam’s getting us a room.” Dean’s eyes shuttered and he pursed his lips. “If you need to sleep, you can have the other side of my bed. Trust me, you don’t want to bunk up with Sam… bastard kicks in his sleep.”
Right then, sleep was the last thing Castiel wanted to do. “No, thank you. I will go.”
“Okay.” Dean’s hand slipped away. “Hey… what were you dreaming about?”
Castiel didn’t know how to answer… so he didn’t. He shook out his wings and fled the car without a word.
Next
His journey back from Israel had taken a great deal out him. When the Winchesters offered him a ride in their car after dinner, Castiel barely hesitated before he accepted. He’d grown oddly accustomed to the ponderous mode of transportation. At times it was claustrophobic and maddeningly slow, but since the draining of his grace, Castiel had a new appreciation for the vehicle. It might get him there days after he might have reached his destination himself, but surrendering that expediency allowed him rest without abandoning the notion of motion. He was ‘taking a break’, yes, but he wasn’t doing nothing. They were on their way to the next battle.
Castiel leaned back against the seat in the rear of the car and watched the brothers bicker about the choice of music. Sam complained of tiring of the same rock music over and over. Dean insisted they couldn’t ride into the battle of the Apocalypse to Six Pence. That seemed to be some manner of insult, from the way Sam reacted. Castiel didn’t understand half of what they said, but for once he didn’t let it trouble him. He slid down in the seat until the back of his head rested on the seatback. There was a warm sense of relaxation when he got to stop holding his own head up. He had to crack a half-smile at that… Castiel, angel of the Lord, who had pulled Dean Winchester from Hell, enjoying the freedom of not having to bear the burden of his own head’s weight. If Uriel were alive, he’d be shaking the heavens with his laughter.
It was growing dark outside the car’s windows, and Dean was attempting to drag him into the music war happening in the front seat. “Cas is on my side, so that’s two to one.”
“What? Oh, come on, like he even knows who Zeppelin is, and since when was the music selection a democratic process?”
“Since Cas is on my side… isn’t that right, Cas?”
Whatever small victory Dean was trying to secure, Castiel was content to give it to him. “Of course, Dean.” He hoped his show of support would end the argument and they could both stop talking so loudly.
Dean make a triumphant noise and Sam just groaned. “You don’t have to side with Dean just because...”
“Because what?” Dean quipped. “Go on, finish that sentence, Sammy. I dare you. Don’t worry about offending the angel in the backseat or anything.”
Sam bit his lip.
Castiel sighed, eager to end the discussion. “I would like a Zeppelin.”
Sam threw up his hands in disgust. Dean just barked out a laugh. “You heard him, Sammy, angel wants a Zeppelin. And a Zeppelin you will get, my friend.” Dean found the tape and soon music replaced the brothers’ voices.
Castiel sank into the seat, as if he’d turned boneless. It was nice. It felt a bit dissociative… like he’d accidentally fallen into a meditative trance. The brothers were right in front of him, and yet somehow they seemed very far away. The music filled the car, but little by little the sound faded into some unseen distance. For a while he seemed to float, neither part of his grace nor his vessel. It was something else, ethereal, and the shattered one was not part of it.
Castiel reveled in the feeling… he knew, intellectually, that the shattered one remained, but in this hazy fugue, it felt like it was gone. He was free. Death could not find him now, in this state. It was a lie he could almost believe here.
The black outside began to steal inside, and the Winchesters slowly began to fade into darkness. It should have been frightening, but Castiel was not afraid. He let the black roll in and fill up the car. It drowned out the music and left him numb to his vessel. He wasn’t even Castiel now… just a drifter. A mote in blackness. The anonymity and insignificance was comforting.
Then he was no longer in the car. He was on a dock, water glinting prettily in the sunlight. Castiel looked down at his side, expecting Dean.
That’s when he realized…
“This is a dream.”
He’d been inside a dream before, but never his own. It was disorienting. It also meant he’d fallen asleep. He didn’t know he even knew how to do that. It was strange to know he was in two places… one being the backseat of the Impala, the other being here, overlooking a placid lake. For a second, the dichotomy panicked him, then the sensation bled away and he was content. Here was a world where no one was hunting him, where he had no war to win.
He was on the cusp of attempting to enjoy it when suddenly the water turned black and a cold breeze gusted against his coat. He felt, sensed, knew... he didn’t need to look to know what had joined his dreamscape.
“I gotta say, little brother, I didn’t think you had this in you.”
Castiel turned sharply and there stood Lucifer, hands in his pockets and regarding Castiel with a keen eye and cocked head. He looked fascinated and disgusted all at once.
“Lucifer.”
Lucifer’s lips twitched in a cold smile. “Dreaming now, Castiel? How human of you. Of course, that definitely isn’t human.” He jerked his chin in the direction of Castiel’s chest.
Castiel looked down and gaped. He could see through his clothes, through the flesh and bone of his vessel, straight through to the burning white light of his grace. Crowded against his own light was the balled up shattered one, shining at its own intensity, shimmering to its own rhythm. It shifted and for half a second it had a face, miniature hands, tucked legs, and a curved back… for a heartbeat, it was a human fetus.
Lucifer scoffed. “Wow… really, Castiel? You’ve gone that native?” Lucifer moseyed closer. Castiel took a step back… he wanted to take another, but his heel went off the edge of the dock and he nearly went over into the water. It had looked peaceful a second ago, but now he feared what lurked beneath the black surface.
Lucifer, for his part, didn’t make any aggressive moves against him. He just ambled closer and peered at the shattered one, on display inside Castiel for all to see. Castiel flinched away and tried to cover himself and the shattered one with his arms. Castiel might begrudge the shattered one existence, but nothing deserved Lucifer’s gaze.
Lucifer lifted his eyebrows at the gesture, then stood back a pace. “So… you’re in trouble. Fallen shattered angel… no one’s going to come to your rescue when that thing’s ready to separate. None of the other angels will even touch you… except to kill you.”
“I’m aware of my situation.”
“Oh, I’ll bet you are. Makes you wonder, though, doesn’t it? I mean, why would our Father do this to you now? Seems cruel, don’t you think?”
Castiel did, and had, but he would never admit to sharing doubts with Lucifer.
“You think the others found a way to do this to you?”
Castiel blinked. “You mean… the other angels?”
Lucifer nodded. “Effective way to eliminate you, isn’t it? Maybe they can’t get a hold of you to do it themselves, but in due time, that shattered one will do it for them.”
Castiel hadn’t considered that possibility. He didn’t want to believe his brothers and sisters would do such a thing to one of their own…
Then again, there stood Lucifer, the angel cast down to Hell by his own brother, Michael. It suddenly didn’t seem so unfathomable. And Castiel felt heartsick at the thought.
“So, tell me, Castiel… how’s it feel knowing you’re going to die?”
“Unjust,” Castiel mumbled.
Lucifer snorted. “Preaching to the choir, little brother. I know exactly how you feel.”
Castiel wanted to protest that he couldn’t, but right now he wasn’t so certain.
“I can help you, you know,” Lucifer said softly, voice all silver and honey.
Castiel’s head jerked up. “What?”
Lucifer gestured toward Castiel’s chest. “Our righteous and loving brothers and sisters might have abandoned you - us - but I can help you. I can save you.”
Castiel didn’t know what to say.
Lucifer smiled. “We’re a lot alike, Castiel. Misunderstood. Mistreated. Cast aside. Wanted dead for daring to question. It doesn’t have to be that way. Not for us. You miss the others. I know you do. I miss them, too. Even when they hate me, I miss them. Even when I have to tear them down, I miss them. We weren’t built to be alone. But you and I don’t have to be. Wouldn’t it be comforting to be with a brother again?”
It would. Heaven help Castiel, but it would.
“I’ll give you what you need… when the time comes, you can have a part of my grace to complete the separation. You don’t have to die, Castiel. You can live, and we will stand together. You, me, and the little one.”
For a moment it was tempting… but then reason reared its head and Castiel stood his ground. “No.”
“No?”
“I can well imagine the horror that would be born of an angel created out of your twisted grace. I will not endanger humanity by allowing that to happen. You are enough of a threat without permitting another one like you to come into existence.”
“Don’t think much of your good influence on the little guy, do you?”
Castiel narrowed his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Lucifer. You are an archangel. My grace would drown in yours.”
Lucifer gave a ‘true enough’ shrug and eyed Castiel. “So you’ll just what… die?”
“If that is His will.”
Lucifer cackled. “Oh, Castiel, listen to yourself! His will? You think He even cares anymore? He gave up on this planet long ago. But He was wrong… the world deserves to be saved. All it needs is a good delousing.”
“Humanity is not the plague you think it is.”
“Isn’t it, though? Impudent little cockroaches who dare to flaunt the mercy He gave them?” Lucifer stopped and cocked his head at Castiel. “You’re fond of them, aren’t you?”
Castiel said nothing.
It didn’t matter. Lucifer saw through him as easily as Castiel peered into Dean’s inner thoughts.
“Or one of them, at least. I hope he’s worth it.”
“He is.”
“We’ll see if you still think so when your grace is being torn in half.” Lucifer moved a step back. “The offer stands, Castiel. When the pain is too much to bear, and the other angels won’t hear your cries, I’ll be there.”
“I will not call for you.”
A slow, wicked grin spread over his face. “We’ll see.”
“Cas… Cas…?”
Castiel startled at a sense of falling and suddenly he was back in the Impala. Dean was leaning over the front seat, shaking him.
“What…?”
“Dude, you were sleeping. And having a nightmare, from the looks of it.” Dean’s hand on his shoulder turned gentle. Concern laced his voice as he asked, “Since when did you start sleeping?”
Castiel frowned and pushed up from his slouched position in the seat. “That was the first time.” It had started out pleasant, but all in all Castiel could not say he enjoyed the experience as a whole.
Dean regarded him quietly in the darkness. When Castiel gave him a questioning look, Dean sighed. “Well, we’ve stopped for the night. Sam’s getting us a room.” Dean’s eyes shuttered and he pursed his lips. “If you need to sleep, you can have the other side of my bed. Trust me, you don’t want to bunk up with Sam… bastard kicks in his sleep.”
Right then, sleep was the last thing Castiel wanted to do. “No, thank you. I will go.”
“Okay.” Dean’s hand slipped away. “Hey… what were you dreaming about?”
Castiel didn’t know how to answer… so he didn’t. He shook out his wings and fled the car without a word.
Next