@safetypinned: a confessional booth that smells like old wood.
the mission itself is simple enough. signs that heaven believes are connected to a demon gathering. castiel has been sent to find one of the winchester brothers and relay the information. he ends up here. a forsaken church. ironic, and fitting. the confessional booth smells of old wood and candle wax. silently the angel appears on the priest's side, intending to wait.
hand reaches for the curtain, only to still at the creak of the opposite door. it's sam. castiel goes motionless, considers announcing himself immediately, but hears the other settle into the narrow booth before he can speak. the silence that follows is heavy. it's long. lips part before he hesitates again at the sound of the other's exhale. hand falls away.
castiel sits there in silence as sam begins to speak, hesitant at first, and completely unaware of who sits on the opposite side of the partition. a weariness within that voice, a guilt with nowhere to go. he knows he should interrupt ─ because this is not why he came. yet, he remains silent. and sam, sam keeps talking. until castiel makes a sound. barely there, but enough. the breathing changes, and he realizes then he shifted against the wooden wall ; body of his vessel pressed too close to the partition. he senses the sudden stillness on the other side of it.
' it is i, ' he confesses. the other withdraws. and the conversation is over. at least, sam believes it is. the angel considers returning to the reason he came in the first place. instead, quietly, ' i didn't come here to listen ─ but then you began speaking. ' a small pause, ' . . . if you wish to continue, sam, i will listen. '
