Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“All but one.” Sam said, scoffing almost in disbelief with a hint of dry amusement. Castiel looks at him curiously. “That's why it's never been used before. It requires the power of an archangel.” Sam flips the book shut, rubbing his face. Castiel stares at the book, oh.

So that time has finally come, a time where he could no longer hide a truth that's been breathing down his neck for quite a while now. Sam groans next to him, he seems stressed, and anxious. Castiel leans back against the chair, he had thought he would be able to keep this from them, that it wouldn't come up, that it didn't matter.

At first, he hadn't known about… it . Not until Naomi's control broke, his memories had been returning little by little since then, initially they were just random things, irrelevant to mention to anyone. He just didn't tell them because technically, he no longer belongs in that rank, I mean, he has the vessel, his true form and physically, in a way, the strength of one.

But while he got his grace back from where Heaven had kept it hidden all this time, he has just kept it hidden somewhere in the bunker, he can't take it back. Not when his vessel is as ruined as it's, his very core stained beyond repair. 

It wouldn't be able to contain that power, not when he still had lingering bits of the grace he had stolen, a grace that had, as expected, turned on him, was eating at his own grace even now, chipping the edges and making him just know that while he got his grace back, he would one day lose it too. The proof was in how his powers have been depleting, how hard it got to heal people.

Of course he hasn't told the Winchesters that either, it wasn't like any of the humans he knew right now would be alive by the time it actually becomes a problem.

But this…

“Well, Sam. We might as well try.” He suggests, trying to sound casual. Sam scoffs yet again.

“We don't have time for long shots, Cas. Even at full power you are not strong enough.” Sam states as he stands up, walking off and leaving Castiel completely alone. He stares at the book, he tries to not take Sam's comment to heart, he does have a point.

Kind of.

He might not have the power to do so, but the spell might just need the presence of an archangel, not its actual power. It was worth a shot, right? And with that thought, he grabs the book.

Even if it didn't work, he would have at least tried. He would never forgive himself if he didn't. He had put Dean in this mess, he shouldn't have taken him there, should have known that the Men of Letters would have put wards to ward off all kinds of beings, especially when transporting such a valuable weapon .

But he had been so desperate to do something, to be of use somehow. He had been willing to risk burning his grace doing that trip at all, he had lied, time travel did require wings, his wings were, for lack of better words, fucked up beyond belief. He had strained his grace beyond anything he's ever done before, had burnt the edges and willed the ethereal plane to open to him even when his wings were nothing but bones and a handful of charred feathers.

But he's always had a different connection to this sort of thing, time. He's always been much better than his siblings at bending time and traveling through it. It came as second nature to do so.

Now he suspected he knew why that was.

But he messed up, again, and now… he would do whatever he had to to bring Dean back.

Even expose a truth he has been running from for months now.

~

“Cas, what is that?” Sam asks as he steps into the library, just to find the angel chopping some things and seemingly working on the preparations of a spell. Castiel doesn't meet his eye.

“It's your spell of gathering.”

“Are you nuts? You are not strong enough Cas, you could get hurt.” Sam says, what the hell was he thinking? Sure, Sam wanted to get Dean back, but not like this, he was pretty sure Cas wasn't even completely healed from both his altercation with Amara and then Lucifer almost killing him. He wasn't even sure how he managed to get Dean back to the past.

I mean, Cas said it worked differently, and while he might not know much about angels, which he now realizes was a bit stupid when one of their friends was one. He doesn't think Cas might have been telling the whole truth, there had been something about his expression… even now something didn't quite feel right.

“You find a better option?” Castiel asks, still not meeting Sam's gaze. Yet, his question makes Sam falter.

“Well… no, but without a serious boost to your angel power that spell won't even work.” He doesn't want to be a dick, but he has a feeling that if Cas tries this and fails he might not return again. He wasn't even completely dry from his last trip, and while it had been hilarious to see him come back soaking and dripping water all over the place he wasn't gonna risk a second time.

“My strength may surprise you.” Castiel conceded as he continued to chop ingredients, dropping them on the bowl. He was weak but even weak archangels can make great feats. He's seen Gabriel do it before, Michael, even Lucifer as he threw him around in that cage.

The reminder made his stomach twist, there had been something about his gaze when he threw him on the ground, he had stopped short from grabbing his arm and potentially stealing his angel blade, his eyes had been weird, like some sort of sudden recognition, there had been surprise with a hint of fear.

“ You-” He had said.

And then the spell had sucked him back into the cage.

It made Castiel wonder if he knew who he was, he still had tons of holes in his memories, things that didn't quite give him the whole picture. Like his name, turns out, Castiel wasn't even his name, but he had no idea what his true name was. Why did Heaven did this to him at all. 

What he does know is that he will do this, and to make sure it works he had the necklace with the vial with his grace on. He would make sure the spell read the archangel grace just in case. He would fix this.  

Meanwhile, Sam frowns as he stares at Cas, his comment was odd, sure, Sam knew Cas was strong, and he really didn't want to sound like a dick, but that had been before, now… he was still strong, but there was no way in hell he would be able to pull off this spell.

And Sam did not want to see what that sort of spell failing might do, what if it ended up killing Cas? Then he would have lost both Dean and Cas. How the hell was he supposed to do anything if that happened? He couldn't defeat Amara alone.

“Wait a second.” Sam exclaims suddenly as a memory comes back to him, walking over to the table and grabbing the book of spells before returning to Castiel's side, holding the book up. “I remember Bobby told me once that when you needed strength to retrieve us from the past, you used him to power up. You touched his soul. Right?”

Sam asks, he had seen how Bobby was left afterwards, but he was willing to endure anything if it meant bringing Dean back.

“That's right. I did that.” Castiel says, wincing at the reminder, he doesn't like thinking about that, angels shouldn't use human souls like that. It was wrong. Souls weren't meant to be used like that, angels were meant to protect them, not use them. That's what demons did, or worse, The Grigori . “ But the procedure can be fatal.” He gives Sam the same warning he had given Bobby.

“Use my soul.” Sam suddenly says, startling Castiel. “That way, maybe you will have enough power to wield the spell.”

“That isn't necessary.”

“It's worth the risk. Cas, Dean needs our help. I trust you.” Castiel finally turns to look at him, Sam's words making guilt twist inside. His eyes were so full of trust, so willing. 

He couldn't do this, Sam had been right before, he seriously sucked at lying. 

Thus, he sighs in defeat, dropping the knife and halting the preparation of the spell as his hands rest on the table, gaze dropping back to the bowl. He really hopes they don't get too mad, he didn't lie on purpose, he just didn't think it important, it was irrelevant information. They would also ask questions he had no answers for.

“Cas?” Sam's voice pulls him back to the present, he swallows hard, taking a deep breath and choosing his words carefully.

“Sam, I can do the spell without a boost. Alright? I don't need to touch your soul, I… I will explain things later, I promise, but right now we must get Dean back. Just… Just trust me.” He finally looks at the younger Winchester, giving him a pleading look, he can do this. 

The look he gets in return is one of confusion with a hint of wariness. Yet, Sam nods.

Good.

And Castiel was right, the spell didn't need his power per se, just his presence and just a hint of what he was, even so, burning his grace to go back once again hurt, much more than the first trip. 

Yet, he snatched Dean just in time, bringing him back to the present, safe. And his insides screamed, making him drop to his knees with a choked gasp, coughing up blood as fire burnt through the edges of his grace, right where it met with the hints of the ones he had ingested, where raw points made him squeeze his eyes shut and bite his tongue. And such a deafening ringing through his brain, something much greater than anything he has ever heard.

Someone was talking and there were hands on his shoulders, but he couldn't focus. He couldn't focus at all.

It felt like forever before the ringing died down and his insides stopped screaming, the raw points in his grace snuffing out, leaving him sore and uncomfortable.

“Cas? You good?” Dean was kneeling next to him, hand resting on his shoulder, concern with a hint of guilt edged on his face.

Castiel doesn't answer as he sits back, wiping the blood off his mouth and rolling his shoulder, his wings felt stiff and much more uncomfortable than usual. He then turns to look at Dean.

“I'm fine. Did you get it?” He asks, looking around, but he can't feel any relevant power but the wards from the bunker.

“Yeah, I did.” Dean didn't sound particularly happy about it, and Castiel understood why as the oldest Winchester stood up and walked over to the table, holding the piece up, powerless, nothing but a slab of wood. No power. Nothing. “Turns out it can only be used one time.”

Oh. He stood up, walking over and taking the slab of wood, there was absolutely nothing in it. 

“So we are back to where we started.” Castiel states, as he stares at the piece of wood he can't help but wonder what was God waiting to show up. Sure, he shouldn't expect much from Him, not after the Apocalypse. But this was His sister. He was the one she wanted to see, the one she was looking for.

“Yeah… are you sure you are alright?” Dean asks. 

“I am sure.” Is all he says, placing the piece back on the table and pulling a chair out to sit down, he feels too sore to want to keep standing.

“Are you going to explain what that was now?” Sam's sudden question makes both Dean and Castiel look at him.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asks, frowning at his brother in confusion.

“The spell needed to break through those wards needed an archangel, I told Cas to use my soul to boost himself up as he did with Bobby, which he refused to do because apparently, he could pull it off just fine."

Castiel tensed as both brothers now stared at him, both demanding for an explanation. 

"Please tell me you didn't do something stupid behind our backs again." Dean says suddenly, making Castiel shift uncomfortably and look away.

"I didn't do anything, it's… more of something that's always been there, I didn't know until a few months ago, I just didn't tell you because it wasn't really relevant, it won't make any difference knowing than not knowing."

He can feel their stares, making him look down at his hands, anxiety gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

"When Naomi captured me when I had the angel tablet, she told me that she had erased my memories many times, enough to have forgotten how many exactly. By that point, I had been getting glimpses of things I didn't really remember doing, they began after I first touched the angel tablet and her control was cut off. But it wasn't until a few months ago that some… things began turning up, glimpses of things I couldn't understand…"

Not until the last piece fell into place.

A last piece that was given to him while he had been under the influence of Rowena's attack spell.

"You were always a pathetic excuse of an archangel." It had been nothing but a glimpse of Raphael staring straight at him, as he called him that.  

It had been the last piece needed to those weird glimpses of things no one but the archangels were allowed to see or be at to make sense. For the grace to finally make sense. When he first found it, he hadn't even known what he was looking for, but there had been the overwhelming sense that he had to find something. The feeling had pulled him to Oregon, had led him to Crater Lake where he had ended up taking a dive into.

Something about the water itself had felt… familiar, like home.  

And so he had dove to the bottom of it, where no human would ever be able to survive. And right there at the bottom there had been an old chest with the vial of grace. And he had taken it. All he had known was that it was archangel grace and that he had to take it with him. It had given him that exact same feeling the angel tablet had when he first touched it. Take it. Run. Keep it. Don't let anyone else touch it. Take it. Take it. Run.

"Rowena's spell allowed me to get a glimpse of something that made all those pieces… fall together if you will."

"Such as?" Dean asked when the silence stretched, he didn't know how to feel about the fact that Cas hadn't mentioned that little detail about the erased memories, but he did know one thing. 

He wasn't wrong to think Naomi was, indeed, a fucking bitch who got what she deserved. How fucked up could she be to not just mind control Cas to kill his friends and his own brother but to also wipe his memories off whenever she had felt like it just because he didn't agree to be Heaven's puppet?

Castiel didn't answer, all he did was reach up to pull something out from under his shirt, was that a necklace? That he took off and put on the table, a necklace with a vial filled with a very familiar swirling glowing energy in it.

Grace.

Sam reached out to grab it and it took Castiel's whole willpower to not slam his hand down on it and snap at him. 

“This is not Metatron's.” Sam stated as a matter of fact as he inspected the vial, Metatron's grace was in a whole different vial, in his room, right at the bottom drawer of his desk. 

This vial had odd engravings carved straight into the glass, Enochian engravings to be more precise, and the vial was attached to an odd silver chain with even more engravings, some were Enochian and some others were quite reminiscent of the writing of the tablets. The grace in the vial seemed much more abundant than Metatron's.

Sam wasn't an expert in Enochian nor could he read God's word, but he did recognize an Enochian word. Archangel.

“Cas, this is archangel grace. Who's is it?” Sam questions, unable to hide the bewilderment from his voice, how did Cas even get his hands on this? Raphael and Gabriel were dead, and Michael and Lucifer were in the cage. So who's grace was this?

“... Mine.”

Silence.

And then.

“Come again?”

“It's mine.” Castiel states in defeat. “I don't know how, when I first found it I didn't even know what I was looking for, all I knew is that I had to find something, when I finally found it, it felt like when I first touched the angel tablet, there was a… pull of sorts, I'm not sure, all I knew is that I had to take it and keep it. I didn't know why or who's grace that even was, it didn't belong to Gabriel, Lucifer, Michael or Raphael.”

And it had been so confusing to have archangel grace that didn't belong to any of the archangels . 

“But when Rowena put that spell on me… I saw Raphael calling me an archangel. And there were also these glimpses of things I shouldn't know or places I shouldn't have been at… it's mine, but I can't take it back, this vessel… it can't take it back. So you can understand why I didn't say anything, it didn't matter because I'm just regular me, it doesn't change anything.”

Silence reigns after that, Sam and Dean staring at Cas as if seeing him for the first time.

What he just said… what the hell? But again, thinking back to it… Cas has always been… odd. The repetitive resurrections, why of all possible angels Metatron chose him specifically when he could have literally gone for anyone else, why the angels were so downright obsessed with getting him back even before he pulled the shit with the Leviathans and the Fall, they hadn't hunted Gabriel or even Metatron.

But somehow, Cas was the one who got all the attention. Had all those bastards known all this time? Had been controlling him to their heart's content and making him nothing but a puppet? Apparently stole his grace and put him at the bottom of the food chain? What the hell for? Weren't archangels supposed to be like the bosses or something?

But again, Gabriel did flip them all off and left, speaking of, had he known and chose to keep quiet? Fuck.

Wait.

“Wait, does this mean you have seen God? Anna said so before, that only four people had seen God, the archangels, but she didn't mention Metatron, and he saw Him. So maybe-”

“If I did, I don't remember. I don't even remember-” Castiel cut himself off, clenching his jaw as he almost slipped. Yet, it was too late, the brothers had caught on to that.

“Don't remember what?”

Castiel didn't answer, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve in a very uncharacteristic manner.

“Cas?”

“... My name…”

“Your name?”

“When I first met Lucifer, he asked me my name. When I told him, he looked like he didn't recognize it even though we all know every angels' name. Even if we hadn't met before, he should have known my name. At the cage… it looked like he recognized me, he looked surprised but… he was also afraid and… I also remember Naomi telling me my name was Castiel, as if somehow I didn't know that.”

“He was afraid of you?” Dean asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. Lucifer didn't fear shit, he had left quite clear he was on a whole different level of power, what the hell did he have to be afraid for? Towards Cas? But if what Cas said was true… 

Then who the hell was he? Why had Heaven taken his power and memories away? 

“You said you weren't sure what you were looking for when you went looking for… your grace, how did you find it? And this… pull you speak of, are you sure it was the same you felt with the angel tablet? What else was weird?” Sam questions, handing the vial back to Cas, even if he was refusing to meet their eyes, Sam could see his eyes were glued to the vial, he seemed tense, as if expecting Sam to just bolt with it.

He tried to not take it personally.

He also wondered, if that was Cas' grace… had his grace been split? Leaving him with just a bit? He hadn't even known that was possible, though Metatron did do just that. And if that was true… Cas had been powerful when they first met, had terrified demons beyond belief, even now when he was weak, with just a wisp of his grace, he was still powerful. Then how powerful had he originally been?

Sam couldn't find a reason for why Heaven would inhabilitate an archangel, even less one who was apparently capable of scaring Lucifer. And God, Cas had (was?) been an archangel all along. He had no idea how to feel about that.

“I don't know, it's as I told you, there was this… pull, like something drawing me to it, I just followed it until I found it. Yes, it was the same as with the angel tablet. I just… it was telling me I had to take it and run, I had to protect it from everyone. It felt like a scream coming from everywhere, to just take it and run. ”

That… it made the brothers share a look, a pull of some kind telling him where to find his grace, telling him to take the angel tablet which ended up with Metatron making the angels fall using Castiel for the spell… a scream coming from everywhere telling him to take it and run. The resurrections…

“Cas, have you felt this pull before?” Sam asks carefully, because the sudden heavy suspicion of what had caused that pull and those resurrections… it was making his hairs stand on end, questioning for the first time in his life if they have never truly known who they had by their side.

But Cas wasn't lying. He didn't seem to notice at all the signs that had been there all along.

The angel (archangel?) finally looks up at them.

“Sometimes, but I never paid attention to it, it wasn't particularly strong, and it always disappeared after a few minutes. Sometimes it was drawing me in, and sometimes it was trying to push me away… "

"Push you away?"

"Carthage, when I went to see the building where Lucifer trapped me at, there had been a pull, as if trying to make me walk away. I also felt it when I gave you the blade to carve the banishing sigil on me, and when I met Metatron, or when Crowley first approached me to offer a deal…"

It had also happened when he first died, it had been stronger than ever, telling him to run. Run before Raphael killed him. But he didn't. Or when it drew him to Chuck just in time to stop Dean from hurting him further. When it made his insides hurt right before he killed Balthazar, as if telling him to step away. Now that he thinks of it…

"Have you always felt this?"

"No, it first happened when I was sent to Hell, it's… it's actually how I found you." Castiel confessed while looking at Dean, making the brothers raise their eyebrows. 

"When was the last time you felt anything from that pull?" Dean questions after a moment of silence.

"... I felt the pull again when Amara was freed, but Rowena's spell had made it feel wrong, I couldn't focus on where it was coming from and it just made my head hurt. I haven't felt anything else since then."

Castiel was still not quite sure what those pulls had meant, or the shoves. Who was doing that? What for?

"Cas… from what you say… do you think God might have something to do with it?" Sam dares to suggest, because it didn't matter how he looked at it, it was all he could come up with, that maybe God has always been giving them cues and none of them had noticed it.

He had saved them from Lucifer when he was freed. And He has brought back Cas several times, had apparently been trying to stir him towards some places where he was needed and trying to push him away from others. From what Cas said, basically from places or people that might present a danger to Cas.  

He had been, with a weird method that was, protecting Cas. 

"That… wouldn't make any sense, why would He do any of that instead of showing up Himself?"

That was a good point.

"You said the last time you felt it was after Amara was freed, but that Rowena's spell didn't let you focus… were the seizures because of that?"

"... Yes…"

"And you haven't felt anything since then?"

"No."

No one said anything after that, taking Cas' words into consideration alongside several other things… had He been trying to call Cas when Amara was freed? And if so, why not try again? Had Rowena's spell done something to him?

"I did feel something weird when Amara put that brand on me and sent me to Hell."

"Weird how?"

Castiel didn't answer, for a moment, he seemed hesitant, and then he stood up, pulling his tie off.

"Uh… Cas?"

"I felt Amara's power when she branded her message on me. That's all she did." He states, taking his suit jacket off and starting to unbutton his shirt, Amara's message was still there, completely healed yet scarred over.

“Since when do you get scars?” Dean asks bluntly, not even the banishing sigil had left a scar. So how was that still there?

“She branded it on my true form, it takes longer for those scars to leave the vessel.” Castiel says as a statement of fact. "When Amara sent me off something else tried to grab me, but her power was much stronger than whatever tried to grab me. It failed, but it left this.” He finally took the shirt off, pointing at the odd mark on his bicep.

It looked like something with a boiling hand and claws had tried to grab him but just succeeded at burning and tearing skin. Making it heal in a not so quite right way. It was still healing, or not healing at all…

Sam stood up, going over to him and inspecting the mark, it had some similarities with the handprint Castiel had left on Dean's shoulder when he first brought him back from Hell. But this one looked less human, less healed. But it wasn't bleeding, didn't even look like a burn, it looked more like some sort of tattoo trying to mimic a burnt handprint with torn skin, and there were extremely thin glimmering co-webs spreading across it.

“Does it hurt?” Sam finds himself asking, because it looks like it hurts, a lot. But Cas just shrugs.

“Not really.”

Dean walks over too, wanting to see it closer, Cas said that something had tried to pull him, taking into account everything he just told them… could it be possible that maybe, just maybe God had been the one trying to grab him?

But if that was true… there was a pattern here…

He seemed to reach out to Cas whenever his safety was at risk, had also led him to his grace and made him take the angel tablet away… yet… why would he make Cas find his grace if he can't apparently use it?

“Why exactly can't you just take the grace?” Dean asks, making Castiel shift uncomfortably before this one grabs the shirt, busying himself with putting it back on. Dean narrows his eyes. “Is there something else we should know?”

“It matters not. I brought it upon myself and it will be a long, long time before it becomes an actual problem.” Castiel states, finishing with the buttons and grabbing the suit jacket.

“So there is something.” Dean accused, irritated, what was people's deal with hiding important shit from him? Castiel doesn't answer.

And then.

“I stole grace, it's how I ‘powered up' when I was human. Humans are not made to ingest angel grace, it messes with the balance of their bodies to a subatomic level. I would have died eventually once the stolen grace faded.”

And it would have been well deserved, even now, he felt disgusted with some of the choices he made at the time. But desperate times called for desperate solutions. He had needed to help somehow.

“I got what was left of my grace back, yes. But angels can't ingest each other's grace, think of it as how humans can't receive blood transfusions that don't match their own. There's lingering grace from those I stole, it's been… chipping away at mine if you will. It might be slower, might take years, decades even, but eventually, even my grace will fade.”

He finished, fixing his tie around his neck, not bothering to look at them. He knows what he will find there and he does not want to see it.

“I'm sorry, were you going to tell us that you were dying or were we supposed to find out when you dropped dead on us?”

“You won't be here by the time it becomes a problem.”

“That doesn't make it okay!” Dean snaps harshly, Castiel finally turns to look at him.

“Then what will you have me do? It can't be fixed.” This was something that was rooted far too deep for it to be fixed so easily.

“I don't know, can't we like, remove your grace?”

“There will always linger grace behind.” 

“What about the needle you used on me for Gadreel's grace?” Sam hates to suggest that, but he couldn't just stand and do nothing, he had ignored it in the past, and he hated himself for it. He had heard Cas' coughs through the phone, he had known he wasn't right, and he had done nothing.

Well, he wouldn't do that again. He couldn't do that again. Cas has always been there for them, he was their friend.

Meanwhile, Castiel didn't answer, there could be a slight chance that it might work, I mean, his grace did fix most of the damage his human time with foreign grace did to his vessel. But it might also prove fruitless. He might just die.

Yet, that slight chance had his attention, on one hand, if he succeeded and was able to get that grace back into him, he might be able to be useful to fight Amara.

But if he failed and died… he would leave Sam and Dean to deal with this whole mess on their own. He didn't care what Ambriel said about Sam and Dean being the real heroes, he could help too. He would help too.

Thus, he sighs.

“I guess we could give it a try.”

Chapter Text

“I know I'm the one who suggested this, but are you sure this is necessary?” Dean asks as he snaps shut the Enochian strap on Cas’ wrist. Sam was at the bottom of the table, strapping Cas’ legs to the table, he didn't seem particularly at ease either.

Sure, they knew they suggested this, but it made them feel sick to have Cas lay down on this godforsaken lab table in that never used before dungeon, a dungeon clearly designated to do more than just trap angels.

The table had Enochian straps to hold down arms, legs and even the neck. The idea alone of what might have been done on that table in the past is enough to make the brothers want to just grab Cas and drag him as far away from the room as possible.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget Cas was an angel, to not lump him in with the feathered assholes whenever they insulted them. But having him laying here with an unfocused look on his face by the fact alone that he was in this room was enough to remind them clearly.

“You can't hold me down.” Castiel's voice is slurred, he sounds drunk, or drugged. “Sam fought me because of the pain…” He turns his head to look Dean straight in the eye. “I will fight you because it comes as second nature.”

Castiel trusts Sam and Dean, but even if he does, he knows he will fight for more than just the pain. He will fight because of Metatron, because deep down, his whole being screamed at the idea of someone taking his grace again. Because he can still remember the wrenching agony it came with having his grace torn out of him.

But he will also fight for the simple fact that it came as instinct to fight whoever tried to steal his grace. Just like any human would fight anyone who tried to take their soul.

“Do you remember the spell?” He asks, now turning to look at Sam, there was a spell to remove grace, one that made it less… bloody…

Sam nodded, he didn't seem particularly on board with this, but it had to be done. Castiel frowned suddenly as he felt the mark on his bicep sting, something tugging at it.

“What is it?” Dean questions, noticing the grimace. Castiel doesn't answer, yet, the way he shifts his left arm and turns his head towards it gives enough of an answer.

“You are feeling it.” Sam said, voice barely above a whisper, unable to hide the hint of fascination. Because if they were right about that mark and what Cas has been feeling, then that meant God was pulling Cas right now. But where? What for? Did He just want to make Cas not do this or was there something else? Why not come to them Himself? 

“Alright, that's it. We are not doing this.” Dean states, quickly reaching out to tear off the straps, Castiel looks at him.

“But you-”

“I know what I said, but you said so yourself, you have only felt that basically whenever you are about to get killed or might get killed. Or seriously fucked up.” And that's all Dean needed to call quits on this, he wanted to make Cas not die, not kill him.

"It doesn't have to mean anything." Castiel tries as he sits up, shaking his head at the bout of dizziness, which doesn't help at all, the bunker's wards have always been pressing down on him, uncomfortable and trying to push him away, he had grown used to them, though it was also most of the reason he didn't spend much time here. But these were much harder to ignore.

"Let's get you out of here." Dean said, ignoring the angel's protests and grabbing his arm, Sam quickly went to his other side, between the two they helped Cas off the table and led him outside the dungeon, and they would be lying if they didn't say they weren't glad for this turn of events. Neither of them had been looking forward to having to drain Cas' grace.

As the three stepped out of the dungeon, Castiel tensed, the sting shifting into a burning as the invisible force yanked at him with enough strength to make him subconsciously lift his wings. Air catching in his throat and eyes widening, a power like nothing he has ever felt, calling, drawing. Demanding. Making his grace flare as something whispered through angel radio, familiar but indecipherable.

"Cas?" 

Dean and Sam had halted when Cas did, he had stiffened the second the three had stepped out of the dungeon, the brothers released him after making sure he could stand on his own. Was now completely still, made alarm set in when out of nowhere his eyes lit up, head tilting as if he were listening to something. Eyes narrowing.

And then a lightbulb exploded, making the three flinch, though Castiel did more than flinch, sucking in a sharp breath as the glow from his eyes snuffed out, he grabbed both of them and yanked them with him, making the brothers stumble.

“Dude-”

"We have to go."

"What? Go where?" Sam asked, barely managing to not crash on the floor as he stumbled trying to keep up with Cas' pace. The angel stopped abruptly, frowning.

“I'm not sure…”

Sam and Dean shared a look.

“Alright… just let's get the car.” Dean conceded, he was still processing a lot of things, was a bit mad, a bit confused, but Cas’ had left quite clear that this… pull was important, that it might be related to Him.

Castiel released them, nodding shortly.

Maybe this was what they needed. Maybe, just maybe, they might finally be able to find God or an actual clue that might help them solve this whole mess with Amara.

~

Castiel was frowning as he stared out of the window, gaze narrowed as he focused on the whispers ringing through angel radio, it was an almost… musical tune, familiar… but he can't be sure. It's calling to him, like wisps of a long forgotten melody.

It's tugging, pulling . He's sitting on the backseat of the impala, telling Dean when to change course, he can feel as the pull grows stronger. As the fire oozing from the mark on his arm intensifies, making him grip his arm.

Sam and Dean believed it to be God, Castiel begged to differ. Why do this? Why not just show up? Why the need for so many theatrics? Why allow at all for his grace to be taken if He was gonna tell him where it was? Why let any of this happen at all?

But the song… it's so familiar it makes his chest hurt. He knows this song. But from where?

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean can't help but glance at Cas through the rearview mirror from time to time, he was quiet, incredibly so, would only speak to tell when and where to turn. 

Aside from that his gaze was fixated outside, he was tense and clutching his arm, right where the brothers had seen the handprint. They are quite sure that if Cas had his wings he would have already flown wherever it was he had to be at.

Dean had been driving for almost a day now, bathroom stops and a gas stop had been enlightening, Cas seemed to get restless the longer it took to get back on the road.

It wasn't until their arrival to Oregon that he changed his position, back straightening and eyes widening as he grabbed Sam's shoulder, Sam who had switched with Dean a few hours ago and jumped at the unexpected touch.

"Stop the car." The urgency in his voice was enough to get Sam doing as told, quickly pulling over, even though they were in the middle of absolutely nowhere, just a road with tons of trees on each side.

He didn't even let Sam kill the engine before he was jumping out of the car.

“Cas, wait, dammit!” Dean cursed as the angel all but ran into the forest, prompting the brothers to chase after him, and holy shit he could run. 

By some miracle, they managed to not lose him, coming to an abrupt halt as they all appeared into a clearing, there was a lake, and on the other side of the lake, a cabin was at.

“Cas?” Sam calls tentatively, glancing at the angel, although he can't see his face, he can see how stiff his shoulders are.

“It stopped.” Castiel said, staring at the cabin, the song had stopped, and so had the pull. He could feel something in the cabin, but he couldn't quite pinpoint whether it was human, demonic or angelic or what.

Yet, it doesn't stop him as he starts walking towards the cabin, he can feel Sam and Dean behind him. He stops infront of the door once he reaches it, should he knock? Or should he sneak inside? But the decision matters little, for the door opens.

And there he stood. The prophet.

No.

That's no prophet, that's-

"Took you long enough." The voice cuts through his mind, making his throat close and his eyes widen.

"You-"

"You should come in." Chuck cuts off, stepping aside and inviting them into the cabin. Castiel moves on instinct, tense but unable to not do as told. Sam and Dean follow after him.

As Chuck closes the door behind them, he walks over to the couch, taking a seat and motioning to the couch across from him.

Castiel and Sam move silently, sitting down, but Dean doesn't sit, he stays by the door. For a moment, there's nothing but silence.

And then.

"Uh…Chuck? Or, well, I guess we don't call you that?" Sam breaks the silence, nervous and feeling like the silence might just consume him. But no one was saying anything and he was getting seriously anxious here.

"I prefer it." Chuck says easily. Chuck. God.

"Okay, uh, 'Chuck' it is." Sam chuckles nervously. "I'm sorry. You're gonna have to, uh, give us a moment to start to process." He adds as Dean and Cas stay quiet, both staring at Chuck with indecipherable expressions on their faces. 

Chuck nods in understanding. 

"We didn't even know you were around. I mean, we knew about Chuck, but we just didn't know about… Chuck . I mean, I-I was hoping you were around. I-I-I prayed and I-I- but I don't know if they got, uh, lost in the spam or if–"

"Sam?" Dean cuts off, prompting him to turn to look at his brother.

"Yeah?"

"Babbling."

"Okay."

Chuck glances at Dean.

"I'm sensing some hostility here." He speaks, making Dean meet his gaze.

"Here's the thing, um… Chuck… and I mean no disrespect." Dean's quick to add, raising his hands in a peace gesture. "Um… I'm guessing you came back to help with the Darkness, and that's great. That's, you know- it's fantastic. But you've been gone a long, long time. And there's so much crap that has gone down on the Earth. For thousands of years. I mean, plagues and wars, slaughters. And you were, I don't know, writing books, going to fan conventions. Were you even aware, or did you tune it out?"

"I was aware, Dean." Chuck admits, he had just chosen to not intervene, not much at least, but he would rather let them get it all out now. He owes them that, plus, it gives him a chance to explain some things.

"But you did nothing. And again, I'm not trying to push you off. You know, I don't want to turn into a pillar of salt."

"I actually- I didn't do that." Chuck feels the need to point out. 

"Okay… People- people pray to you. People built churches for you. They fight wars in your name, and you did nothing ." Dean states, feeling anger start to swirl in. Frustration.

"You're frustrated. I get it. Believe me, I was hands on. Real hands-on for, wow, ages. I was so sure if I kept stepping in, teaching, punishing, that these beautiful creatures that I created… that they would grow up, but it only stayed the same. And I saw that I needed to step away and let my baby find its way. Being over involved is no longer parenting." Chuck sighs, he needs them to understand this. "It's enabling."

"But it didn't get better."

"Well, I have been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has." Chuck states, because it was true, humans had grown, had become stronger, much more resilient.

"Well, from where I stand, it feels like you left us and you're just trying to justify it." Dean bites out, unable to keep the pain from leaking into his voice, he was angry, wanted nothing more but to scream at Him. 

But he was also in pain, a part of him felt betrayed, to hear He had always been aware but did nothing.

"I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean,  but don't confuse me with your dad."

“You are right, you are not. But you are his.” Dean snaps, throwing a look at Cas, he still remembers how learning that God didn't give a fuck had affected the guy, he had believed in God more than either Sam or him had, had been so insistent on finding Him…

He had believed that he could find Him, and that once he did, God would stop it all. Even now Dean was yet to see Cas get as upset as he had done that time. 

“You said you left us for our own good, fine. But what about them? Were you also aware of what they were doing? To Earth? To each other? To him? Some of them were good, he is good, and you what? You just let them die?” Dean states, because some angels had been alright despite all, Samandriel, Balthazar, Gabriel, hell, even Anna before Naomi fucked up her mind and turned her into a Terminator. Or Tessa before Metatron did who the hell knows to her.

And God had done shit.

“I… was also aware, yes. It pained me to see them, but I hoped that by giving them space, they would find a way to learn to be more than just soldiers.”

“That's-”

“Bullshit.” Sam and Dean made a double take at the unexpected choice of words from Cas. 

He was glaring at Chuck with no ounce of fear at all, and Dean wasn't sure whether to be proud or scared for his friend's life.

“I didn't understand before when Raphael told me, but after hearing some of my siblings after the fall, after seeing what I saw… I think I now understand what he had meant then."

Or at least some part of it.

"Most angels don't know what to do with free will. They have no idea how to be anything but soldiers, when given the choice to do more than just that, they become lost, and without the right guidance… they become angry, desperate…”

Castiel can still remember Hael, she had been willing to try , but the idea of doing so alone… she had not been able to bear it, and with it, she became desperate, angry. Because as Raphael had said once, angels were born to follow orders, not think for themselves.

He also knows from experience how terrifying it can be at first. To be free and not know what to do with that.

“Angels were born to follow orders, since the beginning of time that's all angels have done, follow orders, they weren't allowed to do anything else, and those who tried… they were punished.” And Castiel for a moment had become the very thing he had fought once.

Daniel and Adina had wanted to do just that, live their life here, to be free from Heaven , and both had died for it. And Castiel had let it happen. Had even tried to get them to go back to Heaven, when he himself was literally just like them.

“Expecting them to just learn to be anything else by themselves…” He curled his fingers into fists, anger curling around his stomach, he was highly aware he should not be speaking like this to God. But he could care less about that, even less after hearing His words. All the suffering his siblings had caused, to both humans and each other, those who died unfairly, the Apocalypse, the Leviathans, Metatron…

He could have stopped it all, but He didn't.

“You might be God, but if that was your reasoning behind leaving Heaven, you are not just stupid but also blind.”

“Watch it.”

“Or what?”

A sudden throat clearing cut all tension in the air, making all heads turn to the staircase, where a very unexpected someone stood at. 

“Gabriel?” Sam exclaims in surprise and shock, unable to believe what he was seeing, the archangel was supposed to be dead, they saw it. He shouldn't -

But he is alive. Wearing honest to God pajamas with candy patterns and looking like death warmed over, but alive.

“Yeah, I'm alive, you can stop the waterworks now.” He says, smiling and waving at them, though his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, he looks like he might just drop dead down the stairs.

“You shouldn't be wandering around.” Chuck states, tone displeased, Gabriel scoffs.

“Wouldn't have to if you stopped talking so fucking cryptically. You told me to bring him here, I did. He's telling you the same thing I told you before you decided to go buy milk. Don't you think it might be worth mulling over if several people are telling you the same shit instead of pulling a fit?”

Yeah, Sam and Dean had to give it to them, or archangels were built differently or these two just had zero survival instincts. Though what Cas said… he did have a point, and somehow, it gave them a new understanding regarding angels. 

And Cas was right, if Chuck had wanted angels to be more than just soldiers, why the hell leave without a word? How the hell had He expected things to go fine by just disappearing and saying nothing? That wasn't how things worked, even less regarding creatures who were, for what Cas said once, created as how they were even now, they never got to be anything but stuck up soldiers.

Not a child, not a teenager. Nothing. Just ancient wavelengths or whatever with one purpose. Obey.

Meanwhile, Chuck frowned, he hated to admit it but… Gabriel and Castiel might have a point, he hadn't stopped to think about what his absence might cause, he had seen the angels as mankind, he had thought that while there would be chaos, death and violence, that it would eventually help them grow, change. Some had, but the others had killed them all, rejecting change.

And while he told himself that pain was a part of evolution… it pained him to see his children fight and kill each other. Never wanting to change. Just see who got to grab the throne and rule the rest over. When they fell, he tried to save as many as he could, he thought that maybe this time they would be able to grow.

They didn't. They got worse. Killing each other by tons and dragging reapers and even humans into their war. 

Maybe he had been doing this all wrong…

“I will think about it. Now return to your room.” Chuck states at last, Gabriel scoffs at him, expression growing displeased. But Chuck wasn't about to argue on this, Gabriel was still extremely weak and should not be walking around or out of bed at all. He didn't wake him up so he could go around straining himself.

“I'm going, but not because you asked me to, you are not the boss of me.” Gabriel said, which was true, just because dear old dad decided to save his ass from Asmodeus didn't mean Gabriel was about to be like Michael and kiss the floor he walked on. Plus, he felt like shit, going back to bed didn't sound that bad. 

Even if he wanted to stay, because finding out Castiel was little, ankle bitter Cassiel was certainly not what he had been expecting when Chuck woke him up from the ‘charging induced coma'. When he first met Castiel, he had known something was off about him, he didn't recognize him, that for starters, which had been weird in itself, Gabriel knew every single angel in Heaven. 

But there had also been an odd familiar feeling about him… it's the reason why Gabriel hadn't wanted to give him back. Something about him had just struck him as too familiar to let go.

Now knowing what he knew… of course Castiel was Cassiel. Only Cassiel would ever be willing to break every rule under the sun for humans. Choose humans over Heaven and any other biblical bullshit the angels decided to throw. 

Meanwhile, the Winchesters and Castiel watched Gabriel disappear upstairs once again.

“How is he alive? He was dead, we saw it.” 

“Gabriel was never dead, he's always been very… skilled at tricks, maybe Lucifer taught him, but you know what they say, the student always surpasses the teacher.” Chuck said, a hint of pride and amusement in his voice. “A Prince of Hell had him, I managed to pin his location just recently, he's been healing ever since.”

“Healing?” Gabriel looked perfectly fine to Sam. A bit too pale, but fine.

“His grace, it was being siphoned. I can give angels their grace back with a snap of my fingers, but archangels are much more complex, especially if their grace is split, which is theoretically what happens when you siphon their grace. He shouldn't even be awake, but I needed him awake to bring you to me.” Chuck states, glancing at Castiel on the last remark.

“Why not just bring me with a snap of your fingers? I thought God was supposed to be able to do anything.” Castiel said, voice flat, though there is anger behind it, he's angry, and he doesn't even know why he is so overwhelmingly angry, but there's also pain, and a suffocating hint of betrayal he can't for the life of him decipher.

Because this is God, God who just let all the suffering happen, and for what? Growth? All those innocents who were caught in the crossfire of his siblings’ fights, the wars… it made his blood burn. Innocent people had died. Innocent, good and loyal angels had died.

And for what? For nothing.

“I can do so, doesn't mean I should.” Chuck states, leaning back against the couch with his hands crossed over his chest, at their looks, he sighs. “You might be nothing but a far cry from who you once were, but as long as you have the slightest wisp of power in you, that tiny wisp will, in a way, remember me, and you already saw what happens when I try to grab you against your will.”

Castiel frowned, hand instinctively reaching up to touch where the mark was at. Confusion swirling around his chest.

“Are you saying you can't make him appear before you?” Dean asks, not quite sure he was understanding this, how would that even be possible? Cas said so himself, wasn't God supposed to be able to do, well, anything?

“I can, but he would rather die fighting me than come to me when called. Though I guess that's on me.”

“I don't understand…” Castiel couldn't see any reason why he would fight against God. He couldn't understand. 

He tensed when Chuck stood up, hands clasped behind His back.

“You were supposed to be a watcher, zero interference, Lucifer and Michael were warriors, Raphael was a healer and Gabriel my messenger. I needed a watcher. That didn't go over well, you have always had a very… strong attachment to humanity, strong enough you wouldn't even think twice to go behind my back and go against my word.”

Castiel was quite sure it was obvious how much his shoulders were drawn, and while the humans couldn't see it, he was 100% sure God could see his wings bristling at His every word.

“Every time I brought you to me, every time you would fight me, let's say you developed a very aggressive intolerance to my power whenever I tried to summon you.” Castiel was proud at how well he did at not flinching as God came to stand before him, eyes burrowing into him, though while He looked serious, something about His gaze…

Yet, he didn't look down, he held His gaze, he would never back down, he didn't understand what He was saying, but he didn't need to to understand he's always had his mission clear. It wasn't his fault God apparently disagreed with the very mission He gave them.

And Watcher? Well, Castiel couldn't say he was surprised at his past self, he would never sit back and do nothing when he could change things and protect people.

“It's not that Amara was stronger than me. She might be powerful, but the angels belong to me, if I summon one away from her, they will come to me. I just couldn't grab you because you didn't want to come with me. Had I pulled harder, your reticence against my summoning would have ended up unnecessarily hurting you.”

Castiel frowned at that. And this time, he did flinch when unexpected hands reached out to grasp his shoulders. Chuck said nothing, just held his gaze, and Castiel found himself holding it just as unwavering, for some reason, he wasn't afraid, even if the idea of God touching did make him nervous.

But he wasn't afraid.

Meanwhile, Chuck stared at Castiel, this angel who never quite bent to his will, which good. He created him to love mankind more than him. And he did just that. Always willing to sacrifice himself for them without a second thought, even if that meant giving his life or breaking every rule under the sun for that. 

And alright, many angels had completely forgotten about their initial mission. But Castiel never did, even when Naomi tried to change him. He always went back to square one. He always fought back.

Archangel, angel, seraph, it didn't matter what Castiel was, Castiel, Cassiel. His essence would always remain untouched, unreachable, steady. That crack in the chassis Naomi had spoken of was nothing but the very thing that made Castiel stay himself. 

Because at the end of the day, Castiel would always be his perfect creation, the one and only who would never truly struggle to know free will, for his soul would always make sure to put him back on the right track, one where he makes questions and makes choices no other angel would.

He was all he ever wished the rest of his angels would become. Free. His own person. Not a puppet waiting to see who moves the threads this time.

Chuck would deal with Amara, yes. But this time around, he would make things right, he wouldn't run from his mistakes, he wouldn't pull the easy solutions. He would make sure to make things different this time, he would make sure no one had to die or suffer anymore because his pride might get hurt or he didn't want to deal with anything too troublesome.

Only this way would he be able to have everyone he loved safe.

Only this way would he be able to save everyone.