THE ELEVENTH HOUR [Castiel x F!Reader]

18

Your eyes are tired and dry from watching Dean, his eyes shut, connected to a breathing tube and an IV. If it weren't for all that, he'd look peaceful as he sleeps. Nurses assessed him, stitched up his face and parts of his body, and placed him under observation. He looks terrible - peaceful but terrible. Sam sits beside Dean, his head rested upon an edge of the bed as he sleeps.

From the corner of your eye, you see a figure at the doorway. Castiel appears, his blue eyes looking at Dean as he pauses. You turn to him, not surprised that he's showing up yet again. Cas meets your eyes, before he turns and walks down the hall. You rise quietly, following him.

When you catch up to him, you pull him back by his coat. Cas stumbles, looking down at you in shock.

"Heal him," you order sternly.

Castiel pauses, his voice quiet and helpless, "I can't."

"Yes, you can," you fight back, tears of frustration beginning to form, "I know you can."

"I barely made it here with whatever power I had left," he tells you, "I... I can't."

Shaking your head, you let out a humourless laugh, "You put him there. You and Uriel did this to him. And now you're saying you can't fix what you did?"

"I-"

"He's in there, halfway to death, because you couldn't keep a devils trap intact!"

"I don't know what happened," he winces at your anger, "it shouldn't have broken, I... I am sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fix it," you exclaim, running a hand through your hair to calm you when a nurse passing by gives you and Cas a quizzical look, "I don't think you care, at all. I don't think you're sorry. I think all you care about is pleasing God, and following orders. Well, you know what, Cas? Since you're so preoccupied with your holy purpose - the demons aren't the ones killing angels. Alastair told us himself."

"No..." Castiel feels his bottom tremble, and all he can do is stare down at you with wide eyes full of despair. "It can't be."

"It is," you shoot back harshly, "do what you want with your precious information, just stay the hell away from us."

"Y/N, I'm-"

"No," you stare up at him, cutting him off, "don't you dare say you're sorry. You can't keep doing things that hurt people and then apologising like... like that makes it okay," you tell him, not hiding the anger in your voice or the tears of frustration, "it doesn't make it okay."

"I don't..." Cas struggles to find the words, "I don't know what to think anymore. This never should have happened, I was promised Deans safety. I trusted everything would be alright."

"Yeah, well if there's one thing I've learnt about Heaven; it's that you can't trust it," you respond to him.

"I don't know what to believe. These orders, I - I follow through because that's what I am supposed to do. I am meant to be righteous in my faith and devotion. What God commands, we aren't supposed to question." Castiel admits, his expression pained with anguish, "But all I have are questions."

"Righteousness is deciding when to fight and when to stand down," you respond plainly, turning your back on him.