He will only be a story that I tell my daughter when her heart gets broken the same way mine did. He will only will be a story that I tell my daughter when she is pining over some who breaks her the way he broke me. He will only be a story that my daughter will hear as a way to grow, and know that she will be okay. He will only be a story.
Castiel is skeptical when Charlie sets him up on a blind date. Things get even more stressful when he and Dean actually don’t hate each other, and Castiel decides it’s time to spill his gender history.
Sometimes Castiel didn’t understand why he was so pliable to Charlie’s schemes, no matter how wildly far outside of his comfort zone they were.
He sat at a booth inside the campus diner. Charlie had promised him this would be as casual as was possible, so at least she had delivered there. Still, she’d failed to mention that Castiel’s date would be eleven minutes late.
As the fifteen minute mark neared, Castiel was heavily considering heading back to his dorm. He had a paper to finish for his ancient history class, and his current situation didn’t appear to be particularly productive. Maybe he should have just lugged his laptop along with him. It wasn’t common to see students working in the diner, but Castiel was willing to break social norms.
Castiel let out his thirtieth sigh that afternoon. As he was preparing to slide out of his seat, and later deal with the passive-aggressive wrath of Charlie, a voice hollered from behind him.
“Hey! Are you Castiel? Please tell me you’re Castiel.”
His cobalt eyes shot open and he glanced up at the Winchesters, both of whom were kneeling beside where he lay on the ground. He clutched a hand to his chest and it came away stained with his blood, though he was in no pain and couldn’t seem to find a wound. Then his eyes settled on you.
“What–what happened?” he rasped. Dean helped him to his feet and you stood stoic and silent. “You saved me,” he asserted. It wasn’t a question. “Again.”
You didn’t nod and you didn’t reply, but Cas thought he saw the ghost of a smile on your lips and in the corners of your eyes for a brief moment. “It’s not your time,” you said. Castiel took a step toward you, feeling an undeniable magnetic pull in your direction.
“How is it you always save me just in time?” he asked.
“Your work isn’t finished,” you said, stepping back even as he stepped forward.
“But who are–”
“I have to go. Until we meet again… Cas,” you said. With a soft rustling of wings you were gone, but the sound of his name leaving your lips rang in Cas’s ears as the sweetest sound he thought he had every heard.
The last sounds of twilight humming amid the fallen leaves and brush began to recede back into their burrows and thickets, leaving only the sound of your breathing in the early dawn. The air sat heavy around you, your hands steady as you watched from a distance, back through the thick forest of trees that hid you from view.
You watched the lights in the windows darken one by one, the sounds of the house falling quiet as the sun slowly crept up the horizon. The first rays of daylight began to break through the trees, glinting on the blade of the angel sword at your side; your fingers wrapped tightly around the grip.
You were a being of silence and swift action in your hunt, taking down your prey before they ever knew what had fallen on their trail. You were deadly both with a weapon and without, set to destroy the marks of evil that crept from the dark crags of hell.
You remained invisible to the world, keeping to the shadows as you hunted; remaining the legend, the myth. The last of the Nephilim.