by light of the sun - SN fic - PG

[tigriswolf]

 

 

Title: by light of the sun

Fandom: “Supernatural”

Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.

Warnings: SPOILERS for 4.16

Pairings: none stated

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 425

Point of view: third

 

 

“Castiel,” she says. “What will you do now?”

 

“I… do not know.” He continues looking at the children play, laugh, live. “My brother is dead. My brother betrayed us.”

 

“God can still win,” she tells him. “You must have faith.” She pats his vessel’s arm and turns away, then turns back to add, “Heal that boy, angel. You both could use it.”

 

“Missouri,” he calls, catching her hand. She cants her head and raises a brow. “Can I… should I—Sam.”

 

She smiles sadly. “I’ve seen that boy’s mind. He’s got a light, even tainted by Azazel. He’s doin’ his best, but you could offer him a hand.” She gently pulls away. “There’s hope yet, Castiel. Now, see about your boy.” 

 

He nods gravely and departs.

 

o0o

 

Dean is asleep, Sam at his side. Castiel can see the taint, far darker and more widespread throughout his body. The light she spoke of is fading.

 

“If you’re not gonna heal him, get the fuck out,” Sam mumbles, head pillowed on Dean’s arm. 

 

“I am sorry,” Castiel says.

 

“That’s nice.” Sam sounds tired. “Now, fuck off.”

 

Stepping forward, Castiel studies the two men. He had never seen them before the taint began taking over, never gazed at Dean without Hell’s mark on him, but they are very similar. And the light in both, their beacon of hope and faith, is fading so quickly—he must do what he can. He did not start this mess, any more than they did, but it is swiftly becoming clear that he will have some part of the cleanup.

 

“Sam,” he murmurs. “Samuel. Sammael.” 

 

His head jerks up and he whirls around, knocking the chair over and shooting to his feet. He towers above Castiel’s vessel. “What?” he demands.

 

Castiel spreads his hands. “Peace,” he says. “I did not mean to alarm you.”

 

Studying the man, Castiel can see signs that point to Lucifer being in him. But there is no definitive proof, and he will not return to Heaven for counsel.  So he raises his head, steels himself, and holds out a hand. “You are weary,” he says. “Allow me to shoulder the burden with you.”

 

Sam straightens himself even more fully. “What?” he asks softly.

 

Castiel’s eyes flick past him to Dean, just waking up. He still looks spiritually wounded, so very young beneath the bruises and cuts. 

 

Sam turns, face lighting up. “Dean! You’re awake.”

 

Sidestepping him, Castiel places his hand on Dean’s cheek. “Be well, brother,” Castiel murmurs, feeling Father’s grace for the last time as he heals Dean Winchester.