The Fall

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(Authors' Note. If you're not caught up...yeah sorry..........

I am placing this after Cas stops Dean from killing Sam and Hannah decides to return to heaven and abandon her vessel. Roughly. Just go with it. Alternate storyline folks. It's fanfic after all) 

I am not going to make it. They are too close and I have lost too much Grace to heal myself much more. If I can just evade them for a few more hours I will be able to rest, finally. I should give myself up to them. It would be a just penance for all the pain I have caused, angels I have killed. Perhaps I have become too human, although I am hardly the first angel to hide from others. Metatron tops that list. 

He turned down another side road without any warning, pulled into a side alley, parked behind a dumpster and turned the lights off. 

Fortunately, rogue angels don't quite understand the concept of hiding like humans do. One, two, three...wait...four. Patience Castiel, patience. 

He waited for the cars to pass by him a second time, he'd learned that pulling out just after the person following you had passed by was a dead giveaway. The trees in front of him started to blur, That's inconvienent. I need to heal again but I can't risk using more of my Grace. It would be foolish to close the wound only to pass out shortly thereafter. I can't keep spilling blood everywhere though. 

He rummaged around the car he'd borrowed and found an old shirt and tore it into pieces to bandage the wounds on his chest and arms. At least I don't have to worry about infections. Hopefully this will work. He put the car into gear, turned around and resumed his prior course. I hope they are home. The rogues had taken his phone before they started slowly beating him to death. It was only sheer luck that he had managed to slip the ropes and bolt when they'd been distracted by arguing over whether they should kill him or return him to Heaven as a peace offering. Apparently there were still contingents that wanted to see him imprisoned for his actions when under the influence of the Leviathans. Some of the rogues thought that they could get Heaven off their backs by delivering him for punishment. 

Hannah wondered why I had not returned to Heaven. Between killing angels and stealing their Grace to survive and thinking I was God I am no longer worthy of that place. I am a poor leader and an even worse example of an angel, there is no place for me there. I have long since tired of these battles. I just need to get to the Bunker. There are things I must say before....

His mind started to drift and it took every ounce of remaning strength to keep his eyes open and stay focused on driving. 

Hours later he pulled up to the Bunker, the Impala was parked in front. Good, let's hope they hear me knocking. He staggered up to the door, raised his hand to knock just as the door opened. 

A startled Sam dropped the bags he was carrying and caught him right before he hit the ground. "Cas! Hey! What happened?" 

"Inside, please," he whispered. 

Sam pulled him inside and slammed the door before he got the second word out. "Dean! It's Cas! Get up here." 

He heard the echo of Sam's voice and Dean's footsteps, then everything went black. 

"Castiel! Why must you always disobey?"  

Where is this? When is this? Oh. I see. Is this what humans describe as their life flashing before their eyes as death nears? Sand, miles of sand surrounded him. There were simple huts on the outside of the city, closest to the walls. Gleaming white structures burst forth from the center, that's where the leaders lived. The ones that should be being held accountable, but his orders were to destroy these poor people. They were the ones who had worshipped false gods and disobeyed. There was a small human cowering in front of him. Back then angels appeared as fiery things or winds or voices from within trees and bushes. He had taken the form of a cone of fire and as he swept through the village, following his orders without question he'd managed to ignore the pleas for mercy and the cries for help, until this small human girl. She was too frightened to scream, to move or even to avert her eyes from him as she should. She simply stared at him, pointing, her small mouth agape with terror and confusion. Why must I do this? How is this just? 

"Castiel!" His captain, Aoumiel  snapped. "We have our orders!" 

He closed his eyes, reached out his fiery hands and ripped the life from the child. He was an angel, he must do God's will. 

Well, if I am going to relive my entire existence it will either have to go very quickly or I will have to take quite a long time to die. That happened when I was newly created and that barely scratches the surface of everything I have done. Odd, I had forgotten that until just now. I guess I have always questioned, Naomi reminded me of that but I could never remember what exactly she was referring to. Perhaps whatever programming she placed in me is coming undone now that I am fading. If that's the case and this is what I will see, I think I would prefer not knowing. What I do remember is painful enough.

Another memory began to come back, another smiting, another death. So many, there have been so many. Things flashed by, glimspes of battles against demons fought, some won, some lost, of other angels, other places, other times. He found himself trying to slow the thoughts down, to give him time to examine them, try to feel now what he felt then. They are so subdued, so muted, the feelings. I remember questioning but not knowing why I questioned. I can't even say that I felt what I was doing was wrong. God commanded it, then it must be right, but I remember wondering that if killing children was right, then what exactly was wrong. What was it that made us different from the demons and Lucifer? From the humans. They killed each other, demons killed them and so did we. If we are all killing than where is the line between right and wrong? Isn't it ironic that I found the answer to that from two humans. Although even they have blurred the lines between right and wrong, good and evil. Although those concepts are hardly equatable. Right is not always good after all, and there is truly no universal right. I can't even say love is a way to judge what is right, people do horrible things in the name of love. Deep thoughts for a dying angel. Enough of this. I need to wake up, to speak to Sam and Dean, before it's too late and they force something upon me that I do not want. I just hope they understand. 

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