When Heaven Calls

A Little Faith

Castiel stretched his wings to their fullest extent, each feather was a different shade of gold, copper or bronze. He watched the sun shimmer and dance on the tips of his feathers, felt the wind brush along the entire span of each wing. He had missed them much more than Heaven itself over the years. Heaven has no art, no music, no TV, no shady little diners with their dingy walls and friendly waitresses, no food, no life. Perhaps that was what he craved most about humans, their sense of life. They had such short lives and tried to fill them up with so many things. Love, family, cars, creativity, passion. All the things Heaven lacked, but in Heaven he was not confined. 

"Go my child," Father whispered. "You have a few moments still." 

Those simple words freed him and with massive strokes of his wings, he launched himself to the very edge of the atmosphere and stalled his ascent. Flaring his wings he became one with the sky again, one with the universe, weightless, motionless, free. Arching forward, he tucked his wings and dove, the wind raced past him. Flying had always brought him the most intense emotions he'd ever been able to experience as an angel. He shifted his postion and began to barrel roll to the left, spiraling ever faster shooting past where Father stood, extended a wing, looped around him, beat his wings again to regain speed and thrust himself back up through a layer of clouds. Can I still protect Sam and Dean if I am no longer an angel? That's the only option that will get me back there. Can I truly turn my back on this? On home? On Father? If I choose to become an angel in full again can I bear never returning to Earth? They will try to get me to lead again, there is still so much chaos. If I refuse it will only make all of them angry. Of course if I am truly myself again and not relying on stolen Grace, not many of them could truly harm me. Sam said thank you, so did Dean in his own way. 

He dove back down again, When has any angel ever thanked me? Ever considered what I want? Am I truly tired of living or just tired of living as an angel? When I am there, on Earth, with Sam and Dean, even with everything that has happened, I am excited, i feel. There are always new things to learn, to see. I could have returned to Heaven when my first stolen Grace started to fade and died there, but I chose to stay in a hotel room and try to help Sam. Are angels truly capable of understanding family like the Winchesters do? Like I do now. Our idea of family is to stay on mission and follow orders, their idea of family is far more complex and yet much simpler. Family is forgiveness, acceptance and love, none of these things truly exist in Heaven, at least not yet and I find that I, like Father, wish to withdraw. He looped around Father one more time, then stopped in front of him. "I have decided." 

"I know." Father sighed. "Heaven will be much dimished by your loss. Perhaps I crafted you too well Castiel, for even now, you are choosing to protect the Winchester line above all else." Father raised his hand.

"Wait," He couldn't leave Father like this. "Father, would you take a more solid form please?" 

Father tilted his head to the side but did as he asked, assuming a human shaped form. Castiel stepped closer and, as Sam had taught him and he had seen the brothers do countless times, he embraced his Father. He was surprised when Father returned the gesture without hesitation. "Thank you Father," 

"I have done little enough." Father said as he let go, "It is you who has saved the world countless times. Are you ready?" 

Castiel nodded. Father raised his hand, his wings fell away painlessly and the sense of confinement closed in on him again. Silence filled his mind as he could no longer hear the prayers of others or the voices of angels. He felt heavy, small and powerless, all of which, perversely, brought a smile to his face. 

"Cas?" Sam's voice. The door opened, "Dean! He's back!" 

"What?" Dean's voice followed by the sounds of boots running  down the hall and entering the room.