He thought he had everything under control. Control was something everyone wanted. It was something everyone desired. Castiel thought he had it. He thought he had the Purgatory souls under his control. They seemed fine except for the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was all very dark and twisted the longer he let them linger. Nothing made sense and the longer he trudged through this world the more confused by it he became.
The Winchester's were on him constantly. Every where he turned there was Dean with some new speech to give to him. At first Castiel had listened out of friendship. He listened to him out of loyalty. Then he got angry. He felt questioned and cornered. Lashing out became a common thing. Lashing out became what he knew to be functional. He never thought he'd raise another hand to Dean. He was proven wrong when they continued to hound him at every turn. Perhaps it was the Purgatory spirits or maybe Castiel was just tired of being denied.
He never thought they'd find something to hurt him. He thought he'd continue to help these people. He thought he could hand out and be there for them. They were his most important task. The Winchester's had other plans and other resources. They enlisted the aid of Death. He was a fickle man who didn't particularly like being trapped or cornered. He tended to react badly to the whole ordeal. The man obviously had no choice, but to lend them a hand. It was he who Castiel down long enough and turned his eye from what the boys were really up to.
They had a weapon.
It was Dean who plunged it into his side and broke it off. It was Dean who told him how sorry he was and that he wanted this to end differently. He glanced at Sam's face very briefly, but it was Dean he saw before he left them. Whatever they had used on him actually hurt him. The blood was escaping his vessel quickly and he could feel his hold on it slipping. His power was draining and whatever was sharing this vessel with him was pissed.
He appeared in the TARDIS in silence at first. He clutched his side where the broken off weapon barely protruded. The blood seeped out in between his fingers. He blinked rapidly and felt a smile tug at his lips. "Rose..." Was all he could say before he hit the grate flooring and hard.
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Date: 2012-01-20 02:12 pm (UTC)The Winchester's were on him constantly. Every where he turned there was Dean with some new speech to give to him. At first Castiel had listened out of friendship. He listened to him out of loyalty. Then he got angry. He felt questioned and cornered. Lashing out became a common thing. Lashing out became what he knew to be functional. He never thought he'd raise another hand to Dean. He was proven wrong when they continued to hound him at every turn. Perhaps it was the Purgatory spirits or maybe Castiel was just tired of being denied.
He never thought they'd find something to hurt him. He thought he'd continue to help these people. He thought he could hand out and be there for them. They were his most important task. The Winchester's had other plans and other resources. They enlisted the aid of Death. He was a fickle man who didn't particularly like being trapped or cornered. He tended to react badly to the whole ordeal. The man obviously had no choice, but to lend them a hand. It was he who Castiel down long enough and turned his eye from what the boys were really up to.
They had a weapon.
It was Dean who plunged it into his side and broke it off. It was Dean who told him how sorry he was and that he wanted this to end differently. He glanced at Sam's face very briefly, but it was Dean he saw before he left them. Whatever they had used on him actually hurt him. The blood was escaping his vessel quickly and he could feel his hold on it slipping. His power was draining and whatever was sharing this vessel with him was pissed.
He appeared in the TARDIS in silence at first. He clutched his side where the broken off weapon barely protruded. The blood seeped out in between his fingers. He blinked rapidly and felt a smile tug at his lips. "Rose..." Was all he could say before he hit the grate flooring and hard.