I'll Never Have Someone Like You Again

I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,

But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,

I'd hoped that you'd see my face and you'd be reminded

That for me it isn't over.

~Adele; Someone Like You

Note: Oh my, it's been too long. After simpering over Destiel all summer long and posting nothing because I was so dissatisfied...my time with innocent, angel Castiel is rapidly coming to a close...and so figured I may as well get this out now before I actually have to reconcile myself with Castiel as God. I'm just not ready for it.

It was for him that he did it, it was for Dean that he tried to hurdle the insurmountable odds. It had been, like nearly all the tasks that Dean and his brother had chosen to take on, nearly impossible.

To even imagine that he, Castiel, would be able to overcome Raphael had been laughable. And it was, and they did. Castiel was a joke-that was how they laughed at him, they belittled him.

The little foolish angel.

He was alone too. There was no one to lean on, rely on, or that he could trust. Too many times, over and over the loneliness had become so incredibly difficult and he followed Dean; sometimes it was only for a few minutes, and other times he spent hours watching Dean with his family.

He wanted so badly to show himself, in the beginning when Dean was so heartbroken and drinking his way through every single night he wanted…he wanted to make it okay.

Bringing Sam back, he thought that would fix it, but it didn't.

Sam didn't come back to Dean, not really. And not once, not once did Dean call for him. He tried to will it, prayed for it, lingered over him just hoping that Dean would call his name. Then it happened, just once. Dean was drinking his way through a bottle of scotch, broken hearted and sick and the whisper was like a knife through his heart,

Fuck you, Castiel. Fuck you, and all of yours. This is all your fault.

I hurt too, he thought. It's not just you, Dean.

My brother's rotting-in a hole!

But I saved him. Dean couldn't hear him, but he said it nonetheless. I don't know why he left without you. Perhaps it was for the same reasons that he didn't show himself to Dean and ask for his help; he loved Dean, and he wanted him to be happy, he wanted him to be safe.

Here with this woman, with this Lisa, he could have all of that when he was ready. She was prepared to be patient.

It will get better Dean, Castiel said. I know it will turn to a dull ache soon, and it's hard, but you'll be all right.

I'll make sure of it.

It was selfish, but he knew he could never get back what they had-and he could never lose it completely, either. He didn't understand why it had to hurt so badly.

Channeling his hurt into fighting a war helped, and when Crowley offered him a saving grace, it felt like being saved.

Like he wasn't taking a slow walk to the end.

As much as it troubled him, and as disturbed as he was to face the very fact that; yes, he was working with a demon…it gave him a better understanding of the desperation that Sam must have felt when he turned to Ruby. As strange, and disconcerting as it was to admit, there were very few differences.

Except…he wasn't having sex with Crowley. He certainly wasn't in love with him, and he didn't trust him. Instinct, the same instinct that he learned from the Winchester brothers told him that such a distinction would not make it any better.


Down to his core, deep in his bones he knew that there was a fatal flaw in his plan but there wasn't anyone to share it with anymore.

It was just him, and he was alone; with (if he could succeed) eternity stretched in front of him…

Completely alone.