Word Count: 1748
A/N: Tasked with peacefully conveying Castiel home to the halls of Heaven, you listen as he relates to you a children’s tale in order to illustrate why he must remain behind. I honestly don’t know what to categorize this as…maybe we’ll call it angelic banter with an underlying fluffy moral.
Seated on a slatted wooden bench situated at the outskirts
of a quaint suburban park, a motionless spot of tan trench floating in a sea of
lush grass, Castiel considered the carefully landscaped homogenous green-ness of
the space stretching out before him. Even the bench and paved pathways were painted
in a garish peeling emerald hue in apparent effort to make them stand out less and
to further promote the unnatural uniformity of verdant color presiding over the
scene. The whole effect of the scheme, rather than being unobtrusive to sight as
the designer likely intended, was decidedly unsettling to the sense in its
sameness. The angel had been enigmatically summoned here, by certified postal
mail care of the Winchesters, to this peculiar park bench on what presented itself
as a sunny Monday afternoon. He did not know exactly what or whom to expect at
this mysterious meeting.
On the nearby playground, children played and shrieked wildly. Tiny bodies gesticulated on the monkey bars. Nimble legs kicked in a rhythmic rise and fall on the swing set. The avocado tinted metal slide squealed to announce every rider in the heat of the sun. A refreshing autumn breeze rustled the treetops surrounding the grounds. The leaves were just beginning to don their bold seasonal color – rebellious hints of red and yellow overhanging the edges of the park fence and threatening in protest to cast down their ruddy pigments any day into the unremitting green. The undulant air carried with it the occasional orange and black lined migrating Monarch butterfly in solitary fluttering travel south to overwinter. Castiel greatly admired the delicate winged creature’s resilient ability to endure the danger-fraught thousands of miles long journey across the states and into Mexico. He felt a certain kinship with their ability to survive this battering crossing of worlds.
“How long has it been, Castiel?”