John’s boots were the only sound echoing through the hall of the decimated building he was currently walking in.
The end of the world.
Which was a pity, really. He had found quite a few things about the Earth he had enjoyed. This was the location of the final battle and around his feet lay a small group of humans torn to shreds by what appeared to be blades. Or claws. He wasn’t here to investigate it anyway. It didn’t matter. Earth was destroyed and humanity was doomed and-
The sound of a rasping inhale breaks the silence and catches his attention and he looks to see a man moving slightly a few feet from him. John steps over another pair of bodies before kneeling in front of the one who moved. “You’re actually still alive?” he mused as he reaches out and turns the man to his side to see how dead he was. “You poor bastard-” his words trail off when he catches sight of watery blue eyes looking up at him. Even blood shot and dimming with death they were still breathtaking and he had seen only one other with eyes that blue before.
John hadn’t seen his ex since Eye candy died and he doubt he ever would again. He swallows the lump suddenly lodged in his throat and clears it as he returns his attention to the man at his feet. There’s something in that look that he can’t quite figure out. Is it a plead for death or a plea to be heard? Patiently he waits to see what will be said. “Well. If you can even speak.” he notes absently.
Hazed azure eyes slowly opens at the sudden sound breaking through the deafening silence. Footsteps…? A few feet away lay Risa, torn apart by Lucifer’s minions. But somehow, he was still alive? Did that mean he could get to Dean?
Wait… the footsteps. Lucifer wouldn’t bother with that so that left demons or… Dean? Past Dean? The questions weren’t going to answer himself but before he could move, a tan boot is suddenly in his line of vision and his focus shifts up to see someone he had never seen before. And he was dressed in unusual clothing.
After the newcomer kneels beside him to spoke, Cas gathers his strength and reaches up to tangle his bloody fingers in the scarlet fabric of the others coat to draw him closer. For a brief moment, there was the silent question of if he had finally found God, but all that mattered right now was Dean.
"D…Dean…" There’s a brief moment where he wondered if he had even spoken; his throat is so dry and himself so weak. "Pl-please… help…"
"Curious. I thought that Dean would have been the last human on Earth yet here I find another." The voice that spoke turns the blood in his veins to ice when it used to bring him comfort. Sam. But not Sam. Lucifer. The grip Cas has on the coat falls away when he manages to shift enough to see the archangel. At his brother’s feet is the one Cas had failed so many times. Dean. And his neck was twisted at an awkward angle.
Meaning once again he had failed. Not even the residue of drugs in his system can numb the fresh pain that thrums through him at that realization. And now that Lucifer was here… apparently his time was up too. “Good to see that you hung on, Castiel. You and I need to have a discussion. But first I have another human to deal with. One who also doesn’t belong here.” Cas tries to push himself up though all the action causes is a fresh wave of pain and a hacking cough that leaves blood splatter on the floor. “R…run.” he instructs the newcomer. He knew he was going to die and if this man, who even Lucifer didn’t know of, could change things by living, then he’d make sure his dying breath was at least worth something.
" An angel of the Lord." Eva couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone out of her voice. Though with his placating gesture, she figured he at least was under the impression he was one of the good guys, and wouldn’t hurt her. Demons were tricky, but she didn’t often stumble on one so willing to walk right into a church and stand in the light of a stained glass window.
Slowly lowering her pistol, she slid it back in her holster, letting out a breath to relieve her earlier tension.
"Alright. Castiel you said. So that would be The Angel of Thursday and ruler of the second heaven Araboth. Is that right?" Eva’s tone was lightly patronizing. "So. Tell me this, then, Castiel. If that is your real name. I’ve been toutin’ that same prayer for the past twenty six years, give or take one or two while I was learning how to talk. So why the hell all of a sudden do you decide to show up now?”
"For that matter," Eva went on, her hands resting square on her hips, “If you’re really an angel. You’d know what I was praying for anyway, wouldn’t you?”
Head tilting in consideration, he listens to her harsh words though they really don’t mean much to him. Through the years humanity was always demanding to be heard. To be listened to and waited on hand and foot by the angels they believed in. As he had told Dean numerous times before, angels do not perch on the shoulders of humanity.
However he has learned to be sympathetic to the plights facing his father’s favorite creation so when she attacks his credibility, he merely raises his hands in both placation and surrender. “I believe anything I tell, or even show, you will be met with a negative response.” He can’t keep the slight agitation out of his tone. It was frustrating to deal with the same situation with different humans over and over again. “I will say now that I don’t owe you anything. No angel, heavenly being, nor God does. It’s something you might benefit from by remembering. If you prefer, I’ll leave you alone.” He pauses for a moment to set himself back on track. Patience. Understanding.
"I will inform you for my purpose here. I’m on my own path to repentance by helping others, mostly humanity, however I can. To answer your unreasonably aggressive demands, yes, I am an angel of the Lord; though obviously not a very good one if I have to earn forgiveness. And yes, I do know what you’re praying for. The question is why are you so intent on it? What makes it seem ideal to you?"
At the sound of her name, Evangeline gave a start, and leaped up from the pew where she’d been sitting. It was mid-afternoon, and thankfully at that moment, she was the only one there; which was probably a good thing, given how her hand twitched towards the gun she kept in the holster at her side.
Which might have been a good choice. She didn’t recognize the man that had spoken, which made her even more suspicious. Maybe it was demon-hunting for so long that made her twitchy. Or the spirits and monsters and creatures that usually followed in and around their wake.
Turquoise and wooden beads tinkled against the rosary on her wrist wrapped about the same; the mingling of two different traditions blended on the person who wore them. A small silver crucifix caught the light from the stained glass window, but Mel’s aim was nothing but steady. Her voice was a different story.
"Who are you?" she tried to keep her breathing even and calm, but it was hard to do when her blood first got racing. When he didn’t answer right away, she pressed. "Who are you, and how do you know my name? Look, it’s not a hard question to answer, and I don’t feel like all the ‘hail marys’ in the world are gonna help my conscience if I shoot a guy in a church. So throw me a bone here."
Dark brows furrowed with a sense of confusion at her reaction. Thought it really shouldn’t surprise him. Her reaction was typical of non-believers… and even those who did believe, actually. Raising a placating hand, he lets out a soft exhale. This was becoming a constant occurrence.
"You prayed for assistance." His tone was calm and soothing though factual. "I’m came here to offer it. My name is Castiel and I’m an angel of the Lord." Or was. He wasn’t quite sure what God would consider him now, but it wasn’t as though he could ask.
"You can shoot me, if you insist. I will warn you that it will have no effect and I advise against it." His gaze shifts to the gun in her hand then back. "Is there something you’re running from?"
"—And I know I swear worse than Jesus jumping in a holy canoe. But it’s not on purpose. Look I know it’s a dumb thing for me to keep bugging you about. But if you’re there, it would be seriously throwing me a huge bone. thanks. Uh, oh. And Amen."
Eva sighed and leaned back in the pew, for a few moments completely unaware that anyone was watching…
Fingers traced delicately along the scraped knee of a sniffling little girl, a touch of grace knitting the skin together and healing the wound. The sniffles immediately stopped and wide green eyes peered up at the angel with awe. “How did you do that? Are you an angel?” The whisper brings forth a small smile on the angel’s constantly chapped lips.
"Yes." He agreed as he pushed himself to standing and scooped her up easily. Remembering what Dean and Sam had said about keeping himself ‘off the radar’ he brings a finger to his lips in a ‘hush’ motion.
"I won’t tell." She tugs on the bright blue tie in an almost shy manner. "What’s your name?"
"Castiel." Picking up the tricycle the girl had fallen from, he starts of in the direction of frantic prayers for a daughter to return home safely. "You know shouldn’t run away from your family." The gently chiding words cause the girl to duck her head down in shame.
"But I don’t want a little brother."
"Mommy and daddy won’t love me anymore. They’ll love him more."
"That’s not true. You’ll be the older sister who takes care of him. I have many older sisters." That brings her eyes up in surprise.
"Yes. They taught me many things. I owe them a lot. You could be that to your brother."
"Sarah!" The panicked yelp causes both Castiel and the girl to look over as a frantic couple run towards them. The angel hands her over to her father and watch as both parents hugged her tightly; whispering words of concern and praise.
Before he can stay and offer an explanation, another prayer reaches him. Brows furrow slightly as he listens intently. It’s an unusual prayer and that’s why, moments later, he stands at the back of a church studying the prayer giver.
A young woman who doesn’t seem to believe her own words will work. Touching the angelic ‘hotline’ as the Winchester’s call it, he figures out her name but decides to stay away from her reasoning for now. Humans tended to hate it when he knew everything.
"What is it you need help with, Evangeline?"
Azure eyes narrowed contemplatively as they scanned the darkening sky above. There was a shift in atmospheric pressure teetering on the edge of abnormal that had caught the angel’s attention and now, standing on the rooftop of a non-descriptive building, Castiel was trying to discover what was behind it. The onslaught of weather changes since his attention had been captured was escalating at a pace that even surprised him, which should be impossible.
There was no demonic or spiritual signature that he could read to explain it. But there was something else concerning: it was getting worse. The pressure was dropping at an accelerated rate while wind speed was gaining strength. His gaze flickered down as he felt the tug on his overcoat as if to punctuate his realization. It had the makings of a furious storm, perhaps even a hurricane, which wouldn’t seem unusual if it didn’t seem so sudden and unpredictable.
Only a half hour ago, the skies had been clear. The sun had been bright and the temperature had been at 36 degrees by the Celsius scale, 97 by Fahrenheit. (It was confusing why there were two different scales to measure temperature, but that wasn’t the issue at hand. He’d have to remember to ask Sam about that later.)
His focus shifts from his coat to the coastline visible across the line of building to his left. He could see humanity casually enjoying the surf as though the ominous signs in weather was nothing to be concerned with. Why wouldn’t they care about the sudden shift? Couldn’t they feel the turmoil the weather was falling into?
With a rustle of wings, Castiel disappeared from the rooftop and reappeared seconds later yards above the ocean. Below him he could see the numerous species of marine life; most notably a large shiver of sharks making their way North.
Head tilting in curiosity, he studies them for a moment. The sharks themselves seemed abnormal as well though, again, there was no sign of anything supernatural or spiritual being involved. Their current posture signaled high aggressiveness; not only were their backs were hunched as they swam, but their pectoral fins were lowered. Paired together it lead to a rapid zig-zag swimming formation that bordered on frantic.
With no clear answers as to the change in nature, the only option he had was to track down the Winchesters. Together they could figure out the cause before the situation took a dire turn. Slipping his hand into his coat pocket, his fingers curl around the phone given to him by the brothers. His thumb types in one of two numbers he has memorized before bringing it up to his ear and, patiently, he waits for Dean to answer.