Believer Angels Weep

SPN/Destiel/PG-13/angst/All of Season 5 Spoilers

Believer/Angels Weep
by AngeloftheOdd

It shouldn't be like this. Living a lie because he had promised...goddamn it...swore on what he had truly believed to be his last day on earth, that he would pretend he was normal. That this was the life he had always wanted. The life his brother had always coveted. Dean had been content playing the free bird. Had actually enjoyed the open road, the thrill of the hunt. The feeling that he was making a difference. If he had believed in fate, he would have said that was his purpose here. Once, long ago, he would have laughed and said perhaps that it was divine will in that sarcastic tone of his. But oh how he was a Believer now. God didn't care. Angels were dicks. They made you feel your life had some meaning again and then left without so much as a goodbye. Maybe that was the real reason he was here.

When he ate, food seemed to have no taste. When he slept, there were no nightmares...there was nothing. Empty blackness. He fucked Lisa, playing out the motions that were expected of him. That was the only time he showed anything close to emotion. Drowning himself in the peak of orgasm. Crying out. So close to touching something he had once called peace. Falling in a broken heap of tears when he could not find what he was seeking. Poor Lisa. Poor pitiful Lisa, believed he was overcome with joy and love. He was. But not for her. And he hated himself all the more for it.

Was the renewed angel watching? No longer capable of viewing the situation as anything but a human male and female copulating. Did he even remember what it had felt like...had it meant anything to him at all? Was it just some part of the experience that lost all its shimmer and beauty the moment his grace had been restored to him? The mission was complete. They had both gone home to where they belonged. It was such a pretty and happy ending. That's exactly why it felt so fake. So hollow. So unsatisfying.

Surrounded by the warmth of a new-found family, a man bit his bottom lip until it bled to keep the agonizing scream from escaping into the night.

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It was the same as it always had been. Ceaseless whispers and the song of wings reporting back to him that all was well. Endless white light and the warm glow of untroubled faces. Because they did not understand what it meant to be troubled. What is was to feel. To taste. To truly touch. To love. Cas found himself at first pitying them for it. After he had glimpsed Dean, arms entwined around the woman, body gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat...after  that he had hated them for it. Jealousy. Longing. Yearning. He shouldn't be capable of feeling them anymore now that he had returned to Heaven. Being human was a harder habit to quit than he had first believed.

He had prayed for redemption, now uncertain that these desires were even sinful. Love was not possessive and yet he had been tempted to delve into the mind of the former hunter as he slept and enter his dreams. But it wouldn't have been the same as when he had been there in the flesh with Dean. Instead, he prayed for mercy. That this torture would no longer plague him. After all, time was fleeting to the servants of Heaven. The mere memory of Dean would be just that if he waited it out. That thought somehow cut even deeper.

Sometimes, in the darkness of night, when Dean believed himself to be alone from the eyes of mortals, his lips would move silently. A sign of faith. A single word over and over again like a mantra. Castiel...Cas... and the owner of that name would hide his face in his hands. Inquisitive and unsympathetic eyes wondering why, in these moments, that their brother would choose to fly into the heart of a great storm.

Wrapped in the elements, an angel was pelted by the rain, letting the clouds weep the tears he could no longer cry himself.