pinkandyellow | Unmaking God

She lost track of how much time passed, and not just because she was in a time machine. Some days, it felt like years, like she'd been passed it all and moved on but still carried the grief like a widow. Some days, it felt fresh and sharp, like it was only yesterday, last week, some time recent. She couldn't tell. She didn't ask, she didn't want to know.

She told the Doctor, mostly. Told her story just as he told his, and he seemed to understand. Seemed to know, with a wisdom she always underestimated in him. A thousand years of life, a hundred companions and friends, people who loved him and loved others. He seemed to respect her even more for it, if that was possible, didn't judge her, silently encouraged her. Took it in the same stride he took everything else about her, as though she could do no wrong.

She appreciated him more than she'd ever tell him.

They traveled. He took her gentle places at first, and when he realized it was the running that freed her, if only temporarily, he took her to planets that needed saving. What frightened her, though, was the fact that she wasn't doing it to save them. Not now.

They didn't stop to examine their relationship, just as they never had. She didn't ask, he didn't offer. They picked back up as though she'd never even been gone, with grins and tea and understanding, and they just... worked. Together, as mates, and nothing more. He would probably be accepting, if she made any move to advance things, but she never did, and he didn't mind. Asexual, and an alien.

Now, though, was one of those down-times in between planetary distraction. He was working beneath the console, and she was sitting, quietly. Watching. Not thinking, just... sitting, listening to the TARDIS sing in her mind, and just... breathing.

Threaded | Flat

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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