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Apparently, I'm in a melancholy mood.
Title: And The Stars Softly Fell
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatual
Continuity: Set post 5x04, in the future!verse
Characters/Pairings: Future!Castiel, Lucifer!Sam. Castiel/Dean.
Summary: Castiel says goodbye to brothers and an empty world, and goes to find his Righteous Man
Wordcount: 1300
Warnings: Deathfic again, I'm afraid. If it was Lucifer who answered an dying Cas' summons, and Cas who answered a deeper summons altogether.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine
The voice was soft, almost gentle. And wrong. So very wrong. Because the words did not belong to the voice that spoke them, and the voice did not belong to the throat that gave birth to it. Because he knew that voice, knew it so well, had mourned it so long, and that voice had no right to come from that face.
"Lucifer," Castiel whispered. The blood bubbled gently between his teeth, spilling out over his lips. Somewhere above him, his brother folded down from his terrible height, reached out with one vast hand, and gently brushed it away. The fingers lingered after it was gone, caressing his cheek softly, feathering over his jaw.
Sam's fingers. Once.
"Castiel," Lucifer acknowledged, very quietly. "Your human has fallen, brother. He's gone. I'm sorry."
Castiel smiled, at that, felt torn lips stretch into a familiar, terrible grin. "Kinda figured that. Idiot never planned on surviving this, you know." He sobered, very briefly, his eyes flickering down over the bloody ruin of his own body. "Never planned on any of us surviving, really."
Something flickered over Lucifer's face, something dark and soft and, faintly, confused. "He sent you to die? He killed you?" For the one who'd done most of the actual killing, in person or by proxy, the Devil sounded very surprised about it. Almost shocked.
Castiel chuffed lightly, feeling his chest spasm helplessly around the laugh. His heart ached. He wasn't sure if it was from sorrow, or the damaged muscle. "I'm sure he thinks so," he murmured, trying weakly to shake his head. Knowing Dean, even Dean as he'd become these last few years ... yes. The idiot probably thought he had killed Castiel.
Lucifer looked at him curiously, tilting Sam's head to do it. Involuntarily, Castiel felt himself shudder. The motion ripped agony through his body, seizing his breath and throttling him. Almost absently, Lucifer reached down to rest a hand over his chest and whisper air back into his failing lungs, power back into his stuttering heart. Castiel shook his head, rich irony bubbling up within him, and muttered a broken thanks. The Devil stared.
"What are you, little brother?" he asked, frowning. "What have you become?"
Castiel laughed at that, his head tipped back against the bloodstained concrete, his throat red and gulping and bared to the angel crouched above him. He reached out with broken hands, pulled them scrambling up his body to clutch them around the hand on his chest, bloody claws wrapped around the Devil's arm as gasping laughter spooled around them. Dying was like a high, he thought absently. Like a bright, shattered high, spilling light and terror around the edges. It was almost beautiful, in its way. Like the Morningstar. Bright and terrible.
"I'm dying," he whispered, wonderfully amused. "I'm human and I'm dying. Didn't you know?" He snickered at Lucifer's stunned expression, at the whisper of almost fear in those nearly-familiar features. Somewhere underneath the beauty of the Morningstar, Sam screamed silently for him, cried, mourned. As he had for his brother. Without seeing him, without even knowing if Sam could still see, Castiel knew that. He knew it.
"You don't have to," Lucifer offered suddenly, still looking at him strangely, fearfully. "The humans destroyed you, brother, but I can bring you back. You don't have to die."
Castiel shook his head at that, feeling the bitter pity well up inside his chest, the aching, battered love. Oh, Lucifer, haven't you figured it out yet? Our Father's last lesson? "I can't," he whispered, very gently, forcing one hand higher, to touch the Devil's cheek, to touch Sam's cheek. "I'm sorry. I can't be your brother anymore. You killed him. You killed all of them." He wasn't quite sure which of them he was speaking to. He wasn't quite sure if it really mattered anymore. "They're all gone, and you can't bring them back. I'm sorry."
Something stricken flowed over those terrible features, something broken. "Not you," Lucifer said. "You're not dead yet. I could ... I can ..."
"No," Castiel cut him off, but softly. He understood this. He understood this pain. He'd felt the last of the angels go, years before, felt the last of his brothers leave him. He'd watched Dean change, looked in his eyes and seen him die, long before he'd ever come here. He'd looked into Sam's eyes, and seen only the Devil where his friend had once been. He'd watched them all go, watched them all fall, watched them all die. He knew what Lucifer was feeling. Knew it so well. But it couldn't be helped. Because this was how it was meant to be. This was how their Father had wanted it. Because this ... this was what it meant to love someone. This was what it meant to know that terrible, impossible depth of feeling. This was what it meant to give your all to someone, and watch them fade.
This was what their Father had known from the moment He created them. This was what He had granted them in their turn, when he granted them a world, when he granted them hearts, when he granted them humanity. This was what He gave them. This bright, terrible, destroying glory. This endless pain, this boundless joy.
You are gone. I loved you. You are gone.
And now I follow.
"You can't keep me," he whispered, to the angel who had destroyed them all, to the angel that had shone brightest and loved most terribly, to the Devil who had sent them one and all back to their Father, and who now stood alone, bereft of all, in the world he had made empty. To the angel who had lost the most, and still, even still, did not understand.
"Please," Lucifer whispered, Sam begged. "Please. Don't go. Don't leave me alone. Not again. Please."
"I'm sorry," Castiel said again. Because he was. Because he looked on the brother who had killed them all, who had killed Dean, who had killed Sam, who had killed Castiel, he looked on Lucifer ... and all he felt was pity, and a kind of soft, weeping love. "I'm sorry, brother. You're too late. I can't stay. I can't stay."
"Please," the Devil said again, to the last of his brothers. "Please," said Sam, to the last person on this battered Earth who knew who he was, who he had been, what he had lost. "Please," they said, and Castiel smiled.
"Come here," he whispered, too softly to be heard, from a chest that could no longer hold air. "Come here." They leaned in, pressed Sam's shaggy head close, bright, bewildered eyes staring at him with a human's grief and an angel's loss. Castiel took their head between his broken hands, and smiled gently.
"Don't be long," he told them, very gently. Somewhere beyond them, Dean nodded baffled, determined approval, a little lost against the vast, beautiful Presence at his side, against the Hosts behind him and the family they had lost. Somewhere over Sam's shoulder, Dean spread helpless hands, and called Castiel home. "Don't be long," he told Sam, told Lucifer, told his brothers. "We're waiting. Don't be long."
"Castiel ..." the Devil said, so softly. "Cas ..." Sam cried silently behind him.
"We'll wait," Castiel promised. "Brothers always wait. But don't be long. We miss you. Don't be long."
He reached up, pulled Jimmy's shattered body up from the Earth for one last time, and pressed a soft, bloody kiss to Sam's forehead, a benediction to Lucifer's Grace. He kissed them good bye, and went to follow the man he loved. He left them to their empty world, and went to find Dean.
Somewhere behind the Devil's shoulder, in the shadow of his wings, Castiel went home to his Righteous Man, and hoped that one day their brothers could find the strength to follow.
And on Earth, the stars softly fell.
Title: And The Stars Softly Fell
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatual
Continuity: Set post 5x04, in the future!verse
Characters/Pairings: Future!Castiel, Lucifer!Sam. Castiel/Dean.
Summary: Castiel says goodbye to brothers and an empty world, and goes to find his Righteous Man
Wordcount: 1300
Warnings: Deathfic again, I'm afraid. If it was Lucifer who answered an dying Cas' summons, and Cas who answered a deeper summons altogether.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine
And the Stars Softly Fell
"Hello brother."
The voice was soft, almost gentle. And wrong. So very wrong. Because the words did not belong to the voice that spoke them, and the voice did not belong to the throat that gave birth to it. Because he knew that voice, knew it so well, had mourned it so long, and that voice had no right to come from that face.
"Lucifer," Castiel whispered. The blood bubbled gently between his teeth, spilling out over his lips. Somewhere above him, his brother folded down from his terrible height, reached out with one vast hand, and gently brushed it away. The fingers lingered after it was gone, caressing his cheek softly, feathering over his jaw.
Sam's fingers. Once.
"Castiel," Lucifer acknowledged, very quietly. "Your human has fallen, brother. He's gone. I'm sorry."
Castiel smiled, at that, felt torn lips stretch into a familiar, terrible grin. "Kinda figured that. Idiot never planned on surviving this, you know." He sobered, very briefly, his eyes flickering down over the bloody ruin of his own body. "Never planned on any of us surviving, really."
Something flickered over Lucifer's face, something dark and soft and, faintly, confused. "He sent you to die? He killed you?" For the one who'd done most of the actual killing, in person or by proxy, the Devil sounded very surprised about it. Almost shocked.
Castiel chuffed lightly, feeling his chest spasm helplessly around the laugh. His heart ached. He wasn't sure if it was from sorrow, or the damaged muscle. "I'm sure he thinks so," he murmured, trying weakly to shake his head. Knowing Dean, even Dean as he'd become these last few years ... yes. The idiot probably thought he had killed Castiel.
Lucifer looked at him curiously, tilting Sam's head to do it. Involuntarily, Castiel felt himself shudder. The motion ripped agony through his body, seizing his breath and throttling him. Almost absently, Lucifer reached down to rest a hand over his chest and whisper air back into his failing lungs, power back into his stuttering heart. Castiel shook his head, rich irony bubbling up within him, and muttered a broken thanks. The Devil stared.
"What are you, little brother?" he asked, frowning. "What have you become?"
Castiel laughed at that, his head tipped back against the bloodstained concrete, his throat red and gulping and bared to the angel crouched above him. He reached out with broken hands, pulled them scrambling up his body to clutch them around the hand on his chest, bloody claws wrapped around the Devil's arm as gasping laughter spooled around them. Dying was like a high, he thought absently. Like a bright, shattered high, spilling light and terror around the edges. It was almost beautiful, in its way. Like the Morningstar. Bright and terrible.
"I'm dying," he whispered, wonderfully amused. "I'm human and I'm dying. Didn't you know?" He snickered at Lucifer's stunned expression, at the whisper of almost fear in those nearly-familiar features. Somewhere underneath the beauty of the Morningstar, Sam screamed silently for him, cried, mourned. As he had for his brother. Without seeing him, without even knowing if Sam could still see, Castiel knew that. He knew it.
"You don't have to," Lucifer offered suddenly, still looking at him strangely, fearfully. "The humans destroyed you, brother, but I can bring you back. You don't have to die."
Castiel shook his head at that, feeling the bitter pity well up inside his chest, the aching, battered love. Oh, Lucifer, haven't you figured it out yet? Our Father's last lesson? "I can't," he whispered, very gently, forcing one hand higher, to touch the Devil's cheek, to touch Sam's cheek. "I'm sorry. I can't be your brother anymore. You killed him. You killed all of them." He wasn't quite sure which of them he was speaking to. He wasn't quite sure if it really mattered anymore. "They're all gone, and you can't bring them back. I'm sorry."
Something stricken flowed over those terrible features, something broken. "Not you," Lucifer said. "You're not dead yet. I could ... I can ..."
"No," Castiel cut him off, but softly. He understood this. He understood this pain. He'd felt the last of the angels go, years before, felt the last of his brothers leave him. He'd watched Dean change, looked in his eyes and seen him die, long before he'd ever come here. He'd looked into Sam's eyes, and seen only the Devil where his friend had once been. He'd watched them all go, watched them all fall, watched them all die. He knew what Lucifer was feeling. Knew it so well. But it couldn't be helped. Because this was how it was meant to be. This was how their Father had wanted it. Because this ... this was what it meant to love someone. This was what it meant to know that terrible, impossible depth of feeling. This was what it meant to give your all to someone, and watch them fade.
This was what their Father had known from the moment He created them. This was what He had granted them in their turn, when he granted them a world, when he granted them hearts, when he granted them humanity. This was what He gave them. This bright, terrible, destroying glory. This endless pain, this boundless joy.
You are gone. I loved you. You are gone.
And now I follow.
"You can't keep me," he whispered, to the angel who had destroyed them all, to the angel that had shone brightest and loved most terribly, to the Devil who had sent them one and all back to their Father, and who now stood alone, bereft of all, in the world he had made empty. To the angel who had lost the most, and still, even still, did not understand.
"Please," Lucifer whispered, Sam begged. "Please. Don't go. Don't leave me alone. Not again. Please."
"I'm sorry," Castiel said again. Because he was. Because he looked on the brother who had killed them all, who had killed Dean, who had killed Sam, who had killed Castiel, he looked on Lucifer ... and all he felt was pity, and a kind of soft, weeping love. "I'm sorry, brother. You're too late. I can't stay. I can't stay."
"Please," the Devil said again, to the last of his brothers. "Please," said Sam, to the last person on this battered Earth who knew who he was, who he had been, what he had lost. "Please," they said, and Castiel smiled.
"Come here," he whispered, too softly to be heard, from a chest that could no longer hold air. "Come here." They leaned in, pressed Sam's shaggy head close, bright, bewildered eyes staring at him with a human's grief and an angel's loss. Castiel took their head between his broken hands, and smiled gently.
"Don't be long," he told them, very gently. Somewhere beyond them, Dean nodded baffled, determined approval, a little lost against the vast, beautiful Presence at his side, against the Hosts behind him and the family they had lost. Somewhere over Sam's shoulder, Dean spread helpless hands, and called Castiel home. "Don't be long," he told Sam, told Lucifer, told his brothers. "We're waiting. Don't be long."
"Castiel ..." the Devil said, so softly. "Cas ..." Sam cried silently behind him.
"We'll wait," Castiel promised. "Brothers always wait. But don't be long. We miss you. Don't be long."
He reached up, pulled Jimmy's shattered body up from the Earth for one last time, and pressed a soft, bloody kiss to Sam's forehead, a benediction to Lucifer's Grace. He kissed them good bye, and went to follow the man he loved. He left them to their empty world, and went to find Dean.
Somewhere behind the Devil's shoulder, in the shadow of his wings, Castiel went home to his Righteous Man, and hoped that one day their brothers could find the strength to follow.
And on Earth, the stars softly fell.
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