Who: Castiel, Azazeal (NPC with permission) and mentions of Dante What: Sometimes Viktoria isn't the only one who questions her faith When: After Dante is taken to the cabin where his uncles are keeping him safe Where: Wilderness Warnings: Other than an angel's temper and questioning what he's doing? Not really
After tending to his brother and nephew after their fight, and once Dante was resting as comfortably as he could, Castiel remained silent and watchful. They would not be disturbed, Azazeal had seen to it, but Castiel remained hyper vigilant nonetheless. It was the least that he could do.
It was all he could do, actually, and the realization did not sit well with him. While he could heal some injuries, he couldn't simply reach over and heal Dante from the virus. He could not take away the thoughts, the impulses, that rage that he had seen almost destroy him, and Castiel didn't know what to do. This was not the first time that he had felt powerless or helpless - after all, Dick Roman had ensured his familiarity with the concept, but Castiel despised it and the anger that he felt throughout every fiber of his being had nothing to do with an illness. This was not the virus. It was an angel realizing just how powerless he really was when he wanted to protect those he cared about the most.
Perhaps that was the problem. Angels were assigned missions, and duties to carry, but becoming this involved was not in the job description. Not that Castiel hadn't known that, considering how long ago he had come to existence, but as he found himself staring at Dante's sleeping form, he knew. If he was called away, if he was assigned somewhere else, he knew he would not leave. He couldn't. This was not exactly news, considering his insistence in protecting the Winchesters and Viktoria, but this was reaffirming it in a manner that he did not expect.
"What is the purpose of this?" Castiel's voice seemed to echo in the empty garden. Physically and even a part of him was back in that cabin, silently keeping watch over Dante, Azazeal and the cabin itself, but he needed to do this. Even if he didn't find any answers, he needed this, and he was back in a massive garden back home.
Home. If it was home, why did it feel so foreign?
Surviving two possessions should have strengthened his faith. The fact that he had been given second chances time and time again should not make him doubt anyrhing, but it was hard. It was hard when there were people he cared about getting hurt. It was hard seeing the world in shambles and being unable to change or even fix anything. Castiel was no stranger to difficult situations, yet here he was. Unsure what to do. How to think.
There was no one else around, though. No other angel to be seen, heard or even sensed. He was alone, but instead of calming him it simply angered him instead.
"I have never questioned your timing in the past. I have understood that everything is a part of a bigger picture that we do not necessarily understand. But help me understand, Father. All this. The world is falling apart. One threat after another. Help me!"
There was nothing, but it would be a lie to say that he had been expecting a response. Castiel knew how this worked. Despite all of Castiel's attempts to defend Father against everyone, at the moment he wasn't sure what to think. How to think, or feel. He shouldn't be questioning anything. He shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be here for this, but it didn't stop him from pacing as a caged animal through the otherwise perfectly calm garden. Castiel felt like a storm ready to wreck havoc in that serenity, though. As if he wanted everything to feel what he felt was overpowering him at the moment.
This was not the virus. This was the reason why his nephews had been concerned if one of the angels were affected by the virus. There was so much buried in all of them; if Castiel felt out of control without it, he wasn't sure how Everett would be if he were to get it as well.
He ventured to guess it would be something similar to Dante's reaction, just in a larger magnitude. Would Everett remain standing? Considering his temptations and thoughts during the leviathan ordeal, he highly doubted it.
Feeling his shoulders slump slightly, Castiel's pace slowed as he bowed his head. "They do not deserve this. I know it is not my place to decide. I do. I know so, but they do not deserve this. None of them." Pursing his lips, Castiel briefly paused as he said a short prayer. "Please, Father."
Although, if he was honest with himself, Castiel wasn't sure what exactly he was asking for. Assistance? Enlightenment? Answers, of any sort?
There was nothing, though. There was only silence.
The sounds of the cabin came first, followed by the rest of his surroundings. Dante was still sleeping, and Azazeal was in the room watching both of them. If his brother realized where Castiel had been, or the thoughts that were running through his head he didn't say anything or made a sign of it.
Castiel didn't dare open his mouth. Not yet, so instead of saying anything he just gave a small nod and continued their watch over their nephew. The one that, perhaps despite of what Castiel was supposed to be doing, he would help protect no matter what. The one that, despite Castiel's thoughts and doubts, he found himself praying for nonetheless.