[ Dean's kindness is what Castiel remembers as he slips his way back into unconsciousness. "You're gonna be okay, man," and something like a heavy blanket folded onto his chest, and then the blinding light of the sun coming through hospital windows as Castiel blinks his eyes slowly open. By the time the nurse comes in, Castiel has already pulled out his catheter and is rounding the bed. She tries to calm him, to get him to return to bed, but Castiel is insistent. He asks for Uriel. The nurse doesn't know who that is. Castiel pushes past her, and the nurse doesn't try to stop him, but she follows him, trying to explain release paperwork and discharge instructions.
Eventually, he's persuaded to stop. "I'd like to use a phone," he asks her, and she seems relieved that he's at least stopped his hellbent marching down the hall. Belatedly, he adds, "And... a pair of pants, ideally." The back of his hospital gown isn't securely tied and there's a definite breeze.
A few minutes later, Castiel is dressed in much more concealing hospital scrubs, and he has his ear against a phone while he signs release papers with a fake name. ]
I want to talk to Dean Winchester.
[ He tells his sister over the phone, apparently having no problem giving out Dean's information freely. She says Dean isn't available, and when Castiel asks why, she says he's been isolated in prayer. Castiel has never heard of such a thing, but questioning gets him nowhere. He says he's on his way home, and she wishes him well, which sounds, at least, that he's still welcome. He hangs up, and once he realizes he's been given no personal belongings, no wallet, no vehicle, no gun, he asks the receptionist simply for a ride.
The hospital provides a bus ticket for Castiel, which is a new experience for him. What should've been a twelve hour drive lasts sixteen. It's very cramped. It smells horrible. He has nothing to eat and can't remember the last meal he'd had, but a young girl is kind enough to give Castiel half of her peanut butter sandwich before her mother realizes and escorts her back to her seat a few rows away. Castiel's seatmate is a young man in his twenties who wears headphones and ends up sleeping on Castiel's shoulder for some of the ride. Castiel stares out the window at the traffic and the slowly passing scenery of a large, conspicuous highway, and he thinks about Dean.
After the bus arrives in Williamsport, Castiel is greeted by Balthazar, unexpectedly, and driven the rest of the way home. The view passing through the windows, all lush forest, is much more pleasant that the bus ride, and the smell and company are both markedly improved, but the information Castiel receives isn't much better. He presses Balthazar about what's happened with Dean, if he met with Michael, and how Castiel is going to be welcomed, but all of Balthazar's answers are oddly vague. ]
What do you mean, "Michael's keeping him" ? For how long?
[ It's a strange turn of phrase, and not one Balthazar explains at all. "I've no idea, Cassie," Balthazar says with a strangely glib tone. "When you discover the purpose to this... latest passion project of Michael's, do me the favor of filling in the rest of us." His words are haunting, and they ring in Castiel's ears as he's escorted inside to mixed reactions from his brothers and sisters of surprise, and cheer, and distrust.
Castiel doesn't waste time in going to his own personal quarters to change. He grills Balthazar, and every person he meets after on the whereabouts of Dean Winchester until one slips, or maybe they're the first person to know. Either way, the information has Castiel not heading to the guest housing, as he'd expected, but to the audience chambers. ...To the ritual grounds beneath the audience chambers, specifically. The steps are carved stone, and there's water running from a natural source, captured in a circle that leads to pumping fountain at its center. There's a garden of night-growing plants, only a few flowers where the high, slanted windows allow the barest slices of sunlight in, allowing for the torches to remain unlit, at least for this time of day. The room is empty. There's a bit of dust and ash built up in the corners, but it's obvious the stone floor and walls are polished and frequently cleaned. The bloodstains on the floor aren't new. There aren't footsteps or scraps of cloth or twine. The water's clean.
There's a stairway beyond that, to the cellar, and that's where Castiel goes now, continuing down. It's quiet and still, and the stillness urges Castiel to walk carefully and keep his breathing shallow. The ceiling is lit by a thread of electric bulbs. There's a long hallway of wooden doors, and Castiel tries the knob on each door as he walks past, the same way he had as a child when he'd first discovered this "cellar" where wine and provisions are supposedly stored. He calls out just loud enough to be heard, "Dean?" as he goes, but each door is locked, and when he peeks through the slotted window on the ones that have it, he only sees shadows. Until— ]
😭 casually timeskips forever
Eventually, he's persuaded to stop. "I'd like to use a phone," he asks her, and she seems relieved that he's at least stopped his hellbent marching down the hall. Belatedly, he adds, "And... a pair of pants, ideally." The back of his hospital gown isn't securely tied and there's a definite breeze.
A few minutes later, Castiel is dressed in much more concealing hospital scrubs, and he has his ear against a phone while he signs release papers with a fake name. ]
I want to talk to Dean Winchester.
[ He tells his sister over the phone, apparently having no problem giving out Dean's information freely. She says Dean isn't available, and when Castiel asks why, she says he's been isolated in prayer. Castiel has never heard of such a thing, but questioning gets him nowhere. He says he's on his way home, and she wishes him well, which sounds, at least, that he's still welcome. He hangs up, and once he realizes he's been given no personal belongings, no wallet, no vehicle, no gun, he asks the receptionist simply for a ride.
The hospital provides a bus ticket for Castiel, which is a new experience for him. What should've been a twelve hour drive lasts sixteen. It's very cramped. It smells horrible. He has nothing to eat and can't remember the last meal he'd had, but a young girl is kind enough to give Castiel half of her peanut butter sandwich before her mother realizes and escorts her back to her seat a few rows away. Castiel's seatmate is a young man in his twenties who wears headphones and ends up sleeping on Castiel's shoulder for some of the ride. Castiel stares out the window at the traffic and the slowly passing scenery of a large, conspicuous highway, and he thinks about Dean.
After the bus arrives in Williamsport, Castiel is greeted by Balthazar, unexpectedly, and driven the rest of the way home. The view passing through the windows, all lush forest, is much more pleasant that the bus ride, and the smell and company are both markedly improved, but the information Castiel receives isn't much better. He presses Balthazar about what's happened with Dean, if he met with Michael, and how Castiel is going to be welcomed, but all of Balthazar's answers are oddly vague. ]
What do you mean, "Michael's keeping him" ? For how long?
[ It's a strange turn of phrase, and not one Balthazar explains at all. "I've no idea, Cassie," Balthazar says with a strangely glib tone. "When you discover the purpose to this... latest passion project of Michael's, do me the favor of filling in the rest of us." His words are haunting, and they ring in Castiel's ears as he's escorted inside to mixed reactions from his brothers and sisters of surprise, and cheer, and distrust.
Castiel doesn't waste time in going to his own personal quarters to change. He grills Balthazar, and every person he meets after on the whereabouts of Dean Winchester until one slips, or maybe they're the first person to know. Either way, the information has Castiel not heading to the guest housing, as he'd expected, but to the audience chambers. ...To the ritual grounds beneath the audience chambers, specifically. The steps are carved stone, and there's water running from a natural source, captured in a circle that leads to pumping fountain at its center. There's a garden of night-growing plants, only a few flowers where the high, slanted windows allow the barest slices of sunlight in, allowing for the torches to remain unlit, at least for this time of day. The room is empty. There's a bit of dust and ash built up in the corners, but it's obvious the stone floor and walls are polished and frequently cleaned. The bloodstains on the floor aren't new. There aren't footsteps or scraps of cloth or twine. The water's clean.
There's a stairway beyond that, to the cellar, and that's where Castiel goes now, continuing down. It's quiet and still, and the stillness urges Castiel to walk carefully and keep his breathing shallow. The ceiling is lit by a thread of electric bulbs. There's a long hallway of wooden doors, and Castiel tries the knob on each door as he walks past, the same way he had as a child when he'd first discovered this "cellar" where wine and provisions are supposedly stored. He calls out just loud enough to be heard, "Dean?" as he goes, but each door is locked, and when he peeks through the slotted window on the ones that have it, he only sees shadows. Until— ]
Dean?