[ for all he knows they must move quickly, castiel tries to be patient. tortured souls can be fragile things, and while dean is healed and whole again this is not a thing to be rushed too severely. dean is more important than he knows, and while angels as a rule are not wont to wait on human fancy, castiel is a little more tranquil than most.
it's clear as the ringing of silver bells, how overwhelmed dean is feeling, how difficult it is to process what he is learning and experiencing. castiel can't understand it, cannot possibly empathize, can barely sympathize; they are two very different creatures, programmed two very different ways, and while all of this is surely the most important mission work of castiel's long life, he is accustomed to it. to all of this.
still, he tries. he waits, in silence, and he watches dean's soul, listens to it resonate. in truth there may not be enough time in the world for dean to come to terms with all that has happened, with all he has experienced and witnessed and felt. they could linger here for eons and never find an end to it, never find satisfaction for dean. there is only so long that he can wait, only so much time that he can give.
thankfully, dean finds his way on his own.
I swear it.
he promises, assuredly, and if dean's memory needs jogging, if he wants it pieced back together, castiel will give that to him too. whatever is required. whatever dean needs in order to be what he must be, to do what he must do.
dean has given him permission, however, and castiel can no longer tarry. weary as he is, he forces himself up again, because they are very nearly done now and he is ready to see this thing through to the end, to finish it at last, at least for now. there is still so much more to be done, but the siege of hell at last has ended, and at least for a short while he will have the chance to breathe. so castiel does not waste any time. with dean still in his hands he straightens tall again, and opens his broad and aching wings again.
castiel offers no further warning before he's pulling dean close again, and tucking him safely back into his grace once more. it's unlikely that they'll meet any demons on the journey back, but until he gets dean safely back to earth he will take no risks, and prefers to keep his hands free.
leaving the placid comfort of this pocket dimension is bittersweet, and feels a bit like what leaving home would feel like, if he were to understand that sort of feeling, but in the end castiel is a creature of duty. with a simple snap of his wings he is flying, cutting through spacetime like a knife, diving into wormholes and weaving through the fabric of the cosmos like a needle passing through the veil. it's a short trip, if one could measure it in time, and there is nothing to stop them, no angel or demon to bar their way, no call to stop him as he coasts the planes of the universe like an eagle riding a thermal column, pulling them through space and back at last to savage, beautiful earth, dean's home.
drawing dean free from his grace for the last time, castiel deposits him in the earth. it takes some effort to reunite soul to body, and castiel's grace flows against it and through it, rejuvenating the flesh left behind, filling it up with marrow and life, spirit married again to bone and blood and sinew, and within the earth itself castiel wraps his long hands around dean winchester once more.
all it takes is a simple movement, the smallest application of his energy to restart dean winchester's heart, to fill his lungs with breath, and with that restoration he must withdraw from dean, push him away into the third dimension where he belongs, slamming his very being back into existence with force enough to shake the earth and level the grass and trees in a broad swath out from the epicenter of his grace. it crackles in the air, leaving behind the sharp scent of plasma and ozone, his energy thrumming in the soil itself, but castiel is gone from him, invisible and imperceptible to dean in his own dimension, leaving him with little more than a whispered farewell at the back of his mind before he is withdrawing at last, more hesitant to leave the righteous man behind than he ever would have thought.
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Date: 25 Dec 2015 11:56 (UTC)it's clear as the ringing of silver bells, how overwhelmed dean is feeling, how difficult it is to process what he is learning and experiencing. castiel can't understand it, cannot possibly empathize, can barely sympathize; they are two very different creatures, programmed two very different ways, and while all of this is surely the most important mission work of castiel's long life, he is accustomed to it. to all of this.
still, he tries. he waits, in silence, and he watches dean's soul, listens to it resonate. in truth there may not be enough time in the world for dean to come to terms with all that has happened, with all he has experienced and witnessed and felt. they could linger here for eons and never find an end to it, never find satisfaction for dean. there is only so long that he can wait, only so much time that he can give.
thankfully, dean finds his way on his own.
I swear it.
he promises, assuredly, and if dean's memory needs jogging, if he wants it pieced back together, castiel will give that to him too. whatever is required. whatever dean needs in order to be what he must be, to do what he must do.
dean has given him permission, however, and castiel can no longer tarry. weary as he is, he forces himself up again, because they are very nearly done now and he is ready to see this thing through to the end, to finish it at last, at least for now. there is still so much more to be done, but the siege of hell at last has ended, and at least for a short while he will have the chance to breathe. so castiel does not waste any time. with dean still in his hands he straightens tall again, and opens his broad and aching wings again.
castiel offers no further warning before he's pulling dean close again, and tucking him safely back into his grace once more. it's unlikely that they'll meet any demons on the journey back, but until he gets dean safely back to earth he will take no risks, and prefers to keep his hands free.
leaving the placid comfort of this pocket dimension is bittersweet, and feels a bit like what leaving home would feel like, if he were to understand that sort of feeling, but in the end castiel is a creature of duty. with a simple snap of his wings he is flying, cutting through spacetime like a knife, diving into wormholes and weaving through the fabric of the cosmos like a needle passing through the veil. it's a short trip, if one could measure it in time, and there is nothing to stop them, no angel or demon to bar their way, no call to stop him as he coasts the planes of the universe like an eagle riding a thermal column, pulling them through space and back at last to savage, beautiful earth, dean's home.
drawing dean free from his grace for the last time, castiel deposits him in the earth. it takes some effort to reunite soul to body, and castiel's grace flows against it and through it, rejuvenating the flesh left behind, filling it up with marrow and life, spirit married again to bone and blood and sinew, and within the earth itself castiel wraps his long hands around dean winchester once more.
all it takes is a simple movement, the smallest application of his energy to restart dean winchester's heart, to fill his lungs with breath, and with that restoration he must withdraw from dean, push him away into the third dimension where he belongs, slamming his very being back into existence with force enough to shake the earth and level the grass and trees in a broad swath out from the epicenter of his grace. it crackles in the air, leaving behind the sharp scent of plasma and ozone, his energy thrumming in the soil itself, but castiel is gone from him, invisible and imperceptible to dean in his own dimension, leaving him with little more than a whispered farewell at the back of his mind before he is withdrawing at last, more hesitant to leave the righteous man behind than he ever would have thought.
Goodbye, Dean. ]