[ whether dean is justified or not it not something that castiel can rightly parse. he is not familiar with the human experience, unable to comprehend the depths of their feelings in any way similar to what dean might expect, but he does know that this has never happened to him before, that no one has ever questioned him, has always been glad, desperate for a chance, any chance, however slim, to be removed from their suffering and pain.
but there is little enough time to be concerned with that, for once the soul supplies its name, castiel hears nothing that comes after. there is a very visceral reaction, castiel's grace rippling with shock and disbelief, and he has no lungs with which to breathe nor wind with which to gasp but there is a sound, a sound like surprise that fills the space around him, a high electric ringing.
dean winchester, he had said, and castiel can scarce believe it, can hardly comprehend that this might be the soul they have been searching for, that he had somehow been the one to find it, that their ten year struggle is at last over. this is the one. he is the one. this is the righteous man.
castiel leans forward again, desperation written in the long lines of his body, and his great wings tremble as he offers his hands again, more closely this time, all but cupped around the wounded soul of dean winchester. he does not touch, he does not grab, but he reaches with all that he has, his grace roiling and rushing, the light within him flickering like a guttering candle, heady with excitement.
You are him. We have been searching for you, Dean Winchester. Please, you must come with me. Let me save you, let me take you from this place.
there is no mistaking the echoing tone of castiel's voice, the way it thrums with urgency. a host of demons could very well be on their way this instant, ready to tear into him; he had left none alive through his path from there to here, but they must know that this chamber has been breached, they must know that dean winchester is being kept here. a lick of fear touches his breast, but castiel cannot waver, can only hold his palms out and hope that the warm, soothing light of his hands is enough to coax dean near, to earn his trust, however begrudging.
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Date: 17 Dec 2015 03:47 (UTC)but there is little enough time to be concerned with that, for once the soul supplies its name, castiel hears nothing that comes after. there is a very visceral reaction, castiel's grace rippling with shock and disbelief, and he has no lungs with which to breathe nor wind with which to gasp but there is a sound, a sound like surprise that fills the space around him, a high electric ringing.
dean winchester, he had said, and castiel can scarce believe it, can hardly comprehend that this might be the soul they have been searching for, that he had somehow been the one to find it, that their ten year struggle is at last over. this is the one. he is the one. this is the righteous man.
castiel leans forward again, desperation written in the long lines of his body, and his great wings tremble as he offers his hands again, more closely this time, all but cupped around the wounded soul of dean winchester. he does not touch, he does not grab, but he reaches with all that he has, his grace roiling and rushing, the light within him flickering like a guttering candle, heady with excitement.
You are him. We have been searching for you, Dean Winchester. Please, you must come with me. Let me save you, let me take you from this place.
there is no mistaking the echoing tone of castiel's voice, the way it thrums with urgency. a host of demons could very well be on their way this instant, ready to tear into him; he had left none alive through his path from there to here, but they must know that this chamber has been breached, they must know that dean winchester is being kept here. a lick of fear touches his breast, but castiel cannot waver, can only hold his palms out and hope that the warm, soothing light of his hands is enough to coax dean near, to earn his trust, however begrudging.
There is no time. Please. ]