Lonely Prayer (Castiel)

[Dean Winchester]

Dean had been in New Mexico for two days and already hated it. It was too hot, for one thing. Now Dean wasn't normally one to bitch about the heat, but he had found himself, more prone to disliking the weather condition after his stint in hell. Dean scowled at his bacon cheese burger, he hated being reminded of hell. Hell reminded him of demons, demons reminded him of Lucifer and Lucifer reminded him of Sam. Sam his little brother who had willingly jumped into the pit. Dean shoved away his food. He couldn't eat it. Not now, not after thinking of Sam. His stomach rolled angrily and his mind raged. He couldn't help but remember that day, he remembered the pain not from his injuries but from watching his brother war with the devil and win. From watching his brother willingly throw himself into the pit. Sam saved the world, and all Dean could do was go home and try and live a normal apple-pie life because that's what Sam wanted him to do. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, Dean Winchester wasn't meant for an apple-pie life, he wasn't meant for PTA meetings and neighborhood watch groups. Dean ran a hand across his face as he stood from the little makeshift table his current motel room came equipped with. His eyes scanned over the single bed and his stuff still packed away in the duffel bag along the wall. Dean's eyes sought out the shotgun by the door and the impala keys on the table. This was the kind of life he was cut out for. Day on the road, nights in crappy motels, nearly killing himself on hunts. Yeah this was what Dean Winchester was made to do. He ignored the voice that whispered poisonous thoughts in his head. He thought about the ring he had bought only a week ago. His last chance at normal.

He had asked Lisa to marry him and she said no. Dean remembered the shock, he had thought she loved him. He remembered the pain not as much as he thought he should be feeling, but the sting of rejection. Rejection of the one person left, his last shot at family. With Sam, dad and Adam dead, and Dean unable to contact Bobby, Lisa was his last resort. He forcefully ignore the pang that had suggested calling for Cas. Surely the angel would have came already, if he cared. Surely. Shaking his head Dean forced himself to sit down on the bed, he shifted awkwardly to accommodate his new...appendages. Yes, his wing. Dean couldn't believe that he now had wings. The wings were actually why he was in New Mexico. He had woken up one morning to Lisa laying on one of his new wings. It was an odd feeling because they were there yet they weren't, they existed yet they didn't. While they weren't tangible things, Dean could feel them, move them and see them. Yet, no one else could. His back ached in the places where the wings attached and he could do nothing about it. No amount of back massages or pain pills helped the almost phantom ache. He couldn't stand Lisa touching his back now and he hated the feeling of someone else touching them. Honestly Dean wasn't sure what to do about his wings, he didn't know where they came from or what to do with them. The only supernatural creatures he knew with wings were the angels, and he wasn't their biggest fan at the moment. Dean shifted on the bed, letting his head fall into his hands, he could feel his wings moving across the bed but the bed didn't move. He could feel the joint brushing against his jacket but the clothing didn't move. It was so strange.

Dean was at the end of his rope, Bobby's number had been highlighted on his phone and all he had to do was press a button and he could be talking to the old hunter. Closing his phone that sat next to him on the motel bed, Dean stood up and winced as his new wings moved with him. He wasn't sure Bobby could help in this situation, at his wits end Dean decided to try something else. Maybe, Cas could help? Maybe the angel could spare a few minutes to come help him out. He had wings for god's sake, surely that was worth a few minutes of the angel's time? He took a break and started to pray. “Cas.” He coughed. “Cas, man, something really..uh...look Cas I think something's wrong. I mean, I've got wings!” Dean paced a few steps talking aloud unsure if this would work. “This isn't normal man. This isn't normal even for me.” He swallowed harshly. “So maybe find the time to get your feathery butt down here and share some frickin divine wisdom or something.”

[Castiel]

Castiel couldn’t help but think that God had delved into a state of temporary insanity when he made Dean an angel, also when he promoted Cas to highest ranking angel possible. But he had faith, faith in God and trusted that He had a reason to do this, also Castiel had an unwavering sense of faith in Dean. It was because of that, and admittedly because of his relationship with Dean, Castiel would help the newly formed angel get used to his wings. He cared for Dean, more than Cas cared to say. He had gotten in so much trouble because of those boys, and yet he still remained friends to them, just as he always was. Well, almost always. There were times when Castiel had received such a terrible punishment that he turned his back on the Winchesters. In all that time he pretended not to care for them, trying to focus on the turmoil in Heaven, but Castiel still considered himself the brothers’ guardian.

The former angel had greater powers than ever. He was only a mere step below God on the celestial chain. He used to fear the other archangels, but now they were his equals. Things had changed. Castiel’s life in Heaven had changed. It was more like he was living a life of luxury while the things that used to be his responsibility were forced onto the angels. He still cared, he wanted to act, he wanted to help, but he was constantly told that it was not his job any more. Cas’ new purpose was merely to oversee things, hand out orders when needed and that was nearly as far as his new duties went. Well, he kept a close eye on the prophets that had been put in his charge. That was the main purpose of the archangels. Every archangel was tethered to a prophet, watching them should any harm befall them. But it was a bleak job. Nothing ever really happened to them, so often times Cas focused his attention to Dean. The hunter prayed to Cas and the angel wondered why Dean had not yet paid a visit to the home of the angels. Mind you, he couldn’t exactly blame Dean for not wanting to come up here if that was indeed the case. Heaven was incredibly corrupt and not mention, the angels weren’t exactly all that fond of Dean, and vice versa. Cas was probably the only angel that Dean tolerated. Castiel couldn’t deny that the angels could be sanctimonious pricks a lot of the time. Also, they understood nothing of freewill. Cas had been given a taste of free will and it did nothing but leave the bitterest taste in his mouth, and yet he kept on going back. He enjoyed at least knowing was it was like to truly feel free, even though he would never be free. He was bound by this curse for the whole of eternity. Being an angel was so much simpler once upon a time and now it had turned into a true test of faith. Those who had none almost certainly did not last long. Cas had been on the verge of losing faith several times, but something always reawakened it.

Up above, sitting at the highest point in the kingdom of Heaven, was Castiel. He had borrowed someone else’s Heaven. He wandered through a vast library with books on every subject anyone could possibly imagine. Containing books about the occult, atheism, the theory of evolution, everything. Castiel took particular interest in one book called The God Delusion. Not for the reasons that people may think, but he was curious to read about how the other side sees things, the people that did not believe in any God. He took the book from the shelf and rifled through, taking in certain sentences, quietly remarking on how the author actually made some good points. The archangels thoughts were interrupted by a quiet whisper; a prayer. Someone, somewhere in the world was thinking of him. They said his name, just his name, at first. Castiel slid the book back into the mahogany bookshelf. The voice grew louder and louder until Cas could make out everything they were saying. It was Dean praying for Cas to get down and there and give him answers. Cas had no answers, but Dean, being the stubborn jackass that he was, wouldn’t accept that. Castiel wondered why Dean couldn’t just get his “feathery butt” up here instead of Cas having to go back down to Earth. Dean didn’t have those wings for nothing. But Cas actually had a lot of sympathy for Dean at that moment. The last thing that Dean wanted was to become an angel. He just thought that they were a bunch of winged dicks, with the exception of Cas. Of course Cas was still calling himself the guardian of the brothers, despite the fact that someone else had probably been assigned the job, it was for that reason that he obliged. Heeding Dean’s prayer.

With a flutter of wings, Cas flew down to earth and landed softly in Dean’s motel room. All the lights in the room exploded on his arrival, it would take Cas some time to get used to that. Not bothering with any pleasantries, he immediately pressed on to what was more important. “I wish that I had answers for you, Dean.” He said with a sorry look on his face, his blue eyes fixed intently on Dean.

[apologies if this is not too good. It has been a few months since I roleplayed Cas and I'm a bit rusty]

[Dean Winchester]

Dean was glad that he had gotten used to the arrival of the angels, the very faint 'woosh' sound that announced their presence. Dean turned around to face the angel, the only angel that he could even stand. Dean has never been a believer, he had never entertained the possibility of angels. He could barely remember when his mother used to tell him that angels were watching over him. Yeah more like stalking him so they could slip inside his meat-suit and have a full on, knock down, drag out battle royal and toast half the world. Surely that wasn't what his mother had in mind when she spoke of angels. Dean knew of course that it was more then likely the interference that angels seem so fond of that had even brought that phrase to his mother's lips. As he stared at the angel, his angel, that's right, Cas was his angel, he couldn't help but notice the wings that framed the trench coat. It reminded him of the first time he had seen the shadow of the angel's wings, in Bobby's bunker. Dean also remembered stabbing Cas in the chest but that wasn't point. It was like looking at a fan, since Castiel was now an archangel he had more wings. Compared to Dean's own single pair Castiel looked much more impressive. Dean shoved down the thought that whispered that Castiel was his superior now. This was getting stranger by the second. Life could never be normal for Winchesters.

“Cas.” Dean said stiffly. He hadn't liked what the angel had told him. Dean could now physically feel the power pouring off the guy, and he didn't have any answers? What the Hell, man? Dean, huffed and turned to face the angel hands at his side, his new metaphysical appendages flexing in his irritation. “No one in heaven has a clue why I've suddenly sprouted wings?” His voice was angry and his eyes stared into Castiel's unflinching blue ones. “What about that gardener, Joshua? He talks to God, right?” Dean turned away to stalk back to the tiny table that held his now, cold burger. It wasn't even as if he needed to eat anymore. Not since he woke up an angel, he hadn't needed a lot of things that he had once considered important to living. Dean still slept, but much less then before he could now work on two hours a night and food was just something he did now. He was never hungry nor thirsty. It was strange and really, messed up. How could he be a hunter when he was a supernatural creature? It was something that he had plenty of time to consider, since sleep was now more of hobby then a necessity.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean shouted, his anger now boiled over. “How is this even possible!” Dean honestly didn't understand. “ People don't just grow wings, Cas. It doesn't happen, unless they are cursed. Or some sort of creature.” The hunter turned angel rubbed at his face exhausted, “I can't keep doing this shit, Cas! Sam's dead. I grew wings. What else does he want from me?” The hunter asked almost desperately. Weeks of trying to be normal, trying to ignore the death of his brother, of trying to survive. Dean wasn't sure how much more he could take, it was just one hit after another and he was finally stumbling, finally weakening. “I don't even know what to do with these damn things.” Dean complained, calming down a little. “Hell!” He exclaimed, “Did these things come with the other angel mojo?” Dean hadn't seen anything that suggested that he had the other angelic powers, but then again he was more complaining about the wings then investigating any advantages that might have came with them.

[OOC:Sorry didn't have much muse >.<]