#cas reader insert

Chapter 3

You're ruminating as you look to each silver room numbers on the many wooden doors. You don't know why that angel despises you so much but you intend to find out. Zigzagging through the concrete corridors of the bunker, you opened the door of a random bedroom. Not even taking the time to inspect the place, you dropped your duffelbag at the foot of the bed and left the room ready to face Castiel once and for all. 

*Sam said his room's 21. Let's see if his angelic ass' there.*

As you walk, you realized that you might be a bit more tense that you thought you were. Your throat tightened and your blood pumped hard in your ears. As you walked down the alley, you wondered if it was a good idea to confront him. Anyway what can you possibly say to an angel to change his opinion of you? But at the same time, he raised your curiosity. And he's the only one that saw this whatever supernatural side of yours.

- Room 18

Why does it affect you so much?

- Room 19

In fact, who cares if a fallen angel dislikes you?

- Room 20

At this point, you can see that the next door is ajar, faint lights were coming out from it, as if someone was watching TV. You rallied up your courage and took the last steps towards the door. 

You advanced your fist to knock on the door politely, but you stopped your movement in a sharp blow. Instead, you banged the door opened and made your way in. Your eyes automatically fell on him. He was comfortably sitting on the bed with outspreaded legs, only dressed in his blue navy suit, his coat neatly folded on a chair. He didn't even looked suprised by your sudden arrival, hell he didn't even turn his head up to you, as if he was expecting you to burge in like that. Seeing him so little disturbed by your presence annoyed you. You crossed your arms over your chest and scraped your throat. 

-Can we talk?

He finally brought his attention up to you. 

-As a matter of fact, yes. Since we both have vocal cords, it is possible to speak.  

He then, returned his attention towards the tv. You looked at him incredulously and snorted. 

 -Wow, didn't know angels could be such assholes. Wait yes, I did know that. It's just, coming from the renegade angel who fought side to side with the Winchesters it's regrettable. I thought you were a decent one. You proved me I thought wrong. 

The angel's gaze fell on you once again. He stared at you with narrowed eyes, . 

-You don't know the first thing about me. He said in a threatening tone and he continued: 

-And you might wanna show me more respect since I saved your life back there. 

You laughed, and for the first time yet, he looked taken aback, his traits switched from tough to disbelief. 

-Please. If you didn't fucked up my hunt in the first place, I wouldn't have needed your saving. ''Show me some respect''. you chained trying your best to imitate his deep voice. I agreed to come here so that you could find out whatever the fuck, you, felt back there. you pointed him with an accusing finger. Even though I'm sure you're wrong on all the line. Not even able to explain what else I could be, Nephilim aside. Yeah you know what? Ignore me till you figured this out. 

Without giving him the chance to answer back, you turned around, ready to leave the room. As you walk towards the door, he grabbed your right wrist in a swift, pulled with strenght and made you spinned back so you faced him. The movement was so sudden that you stumbled forward, your wrist still in his hand, you managed to stabilize yourself by pressing your other arm on his chest.  Your eyes met his gorgeous cerulean ones and he slightly inclined his eyebrows which gave him a look of dominance. The sudden closeness between him and you made your breath shorten and for a second your gaze fell on his chapped lips, partially opened. You felt your heart hammering hard against your chest, a feeling that no one have had on you in a long time now.  

-Do not underestimate me, human. Castiel whispered to your right ear with a eager tone, while placing a  stray hair behind it. The caress of his breath on the skin of your neck made you shivered, bristling the hairs in passing. A carnal ache was rising from within you even though you wouldn't admit it, his forceful grip and his feverish demeanor kinda turned you on. His head still closed to your face, he slowly moved backwards and once he gazed fell on you, you could've sworn his eyes were full of lust, his pupils widely dilated. As if he noticed that he had been carried away in this fervid moment, he thightened his grip on your wrist which brought your mind back in place. The daydreaming was over. You pulled your arm forcefully to regain control of it again but Castiel did not let go. You clenched your teeth.

-Let me go or I swear-

-Oh yes, please tell me. What are you gonna do?  the angel asked, smirking.

You were ready to snap when you heard a familiar voice coming from the hallway.

-What's going on?  Sam asked in shock from what he just witnessed. 

Sam's sudden intrusion made Castiel eased the pressure he had on your wrist and you seized the opportunity to free yourself completely. You left the room, jostling Sam on the way out and shouted without turning your back: 

-Your feathered friend is fucking nuts, that's what. Ask for a new one. I'm outta here. 

---

- Would you care to explain what the hell happened Cas? Dean looked at the angel reprovingly, his hands resting on his hips. They were both in the library while Sam checked for you in the garage. Seeing that his angel friend wasn't answering his question Dean rolled his eyes and continued: 

-You're the one who said we should keep an eye on her. His own statement made him scoffed. 

-Hell, was already a miracle the girl agreed to come with us, complete strangers. Now she probably won't want anything to do with us. Way to go Cas. 

 Sam bursted in the library with an anxious face, dreading his brother's reaction from what he was about to say. 

-She took one of the motorcycle from the garage. She's long gone. 

- Wai-wai-wait. You're telling me she took off with a bike? Dean questionned, more impressed than stunned. 

 -Yeah... Sam sighed as he pulled himself a chair and glanced at the seraph. The three of them remained silent for a couple minutes before Dean suddendly got up and readied himself to leave. 

-I'll go check the local motels and the bars around. She probably ain't far, we had a long day and it's the middle of the night. 

-I'll come with. Sam quickly added. He got up and turn to look at Cas, wondering if he would join them.

-Sammy, don't bother. He won't budge. Let's go. 

---

-Woah lady, don't ya think you had enough? the old bearded bartender asked you, after you ordered your fourth glass of Jim Beam. You squinted your eyes, pointed a finger to your now empty glass and hissed: 

-Fill it up old man. 

To be quite honest, the tension had disappeared after your first glass of bourbon. Now you drank to convince yourself not to go back there. It was killing you from the inside. What did he mean by weapon? What power could you be possessing? You've always felt different from the other girls of your orphenage, that's why you ran away from there when you were just 15. You thought that, dedicating yourself for hunting would solve the problem, but yet there's still this same void inside of you. And that little voice in your head kept saying you, that by going with the Winchester, you would finally discover what could be filling this void. 

It was near the last call, the motel's bar was half-empty, and a group of wasted men started calling you out from where they were sitting.  

Babyyyyy, come here. We won't biteeee. 

Yeah don't stay there all aloone, honeyyy. 

You ignored them. That's what you usually do. Though, tonight your patience might not be as tough as usual since you were already pretty irritated. You sighed, chasing off their loud drunk laughs. You brought your glass to your lips and took a sip. You no longer felt the liquid burning on its way, which meant that you were maybe more advanced that you thought you were. A different aura, what could be wrong with your damn aura? Perhaps he had felt all the rage you buried inside you, this constant desire to fight. All your life, you have never found something more satisfying than killing monsters.  

-Baby baby you neeeeed to join us. A guy who looked like a cheaper version of Justin Timberlake in his NSYNC's time surprised you as he sat next to you, passing an arm around your shoulders. You retched as you smelled the putrid odor of alcohol coming from his breath. This dude had by far, exceeded your limit.

You swiflty clutched his arm with your left hand, lifted it over your head and then quickly with your right hand you grabbed his forearm which was resting on your shoulder and mashed it with strenght against the counter, the unwavering recoil resulting in him knocking his head off. 

-MY NOSE

-Have you had enough? you growled, pressing even more on his shoudler, so his head stayed steady in the pool of blood that was slowly forming under him.

You held him there, with his arm stuck in your grip and his face flattened against the bar, way too fed up to notice that his nose might be broken, seeing the amount of blood soaking the counter. You heard his friends approaching and you finally let him go. He held his broken nose with both of his hands, a horrified looked on his face, swearing that you were the craziest girl he had ever met.  

-You're fucking crazy, she's fucking crazy! He yelled to his friends. You can't help but laugh at the ridiculous faces they had while they inspected the state of his nose. Although the bartender didn't look so amused. 

-You, out. NOW.  he  demanded as he pointed the door rigorously. 

-What? ME? But, he started it!  Plus, I rented a room here. You complained, trying your best to look cute. Unfortunately, looking cute wasn't gonna cut it after the mess you made in his bar. You were standing still, not totally sure of where you could go now, as you got kicked out from the only vacancy motel in town. 

-GET OUT. The old man shouted, getting a bit too aggressive and continued: 

-I've seen enough, Hell I've paid enough for the damage, you, hunters caused in my bar! 

You slowly raised your hands in apology and backed towards the door. The doorbell rang, indicating that someone just entered. The bearded man's expression changed as he looked up to see his new customer, his eyes now filled with fear. 

-NO. NO. NO. I SAID NO MORE HUNTER ON MY DAMN PROPRIETY. 

*Aww fuck.*

No need to turn around to know who stood behind you. Those damn brothers. 

-Would ya calm down Willy? We're in and out, just here to get a friend okay? the familiar voice confirmed you that you were right. 

And in this short instant, you've made your choice. It was better to endure a unpleasant angel to find out the truth about your origins, and to maybe one day, find what could finally fill this emptiness inside of you.   

“Oh, one last thing agents. She had Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes. She was wearing a black leather jacket, a white tank, tight black leggings, these super high high heeled boots, and bright red lipstick too.”

“Thank you Jason. Again, we’re sorry for your loss,” Dean said as him and Sam began to walk away from the man at the bar.

“Dude. That sounds exactly like Y/N. Well, the physical characteristics at least. She never wore anything like that before she left,” Sam whispered to Dean.

“No. It can’t be. She wouldn’t do something like that.”

“You remember what she was like after Cas left her. She was completely broken and left the bunker as soon as possible. She hasn’t been in touch with any of us since then. It’s a possibility that we have to consider.”

“Fine,” Dean relented. “But first you should call Cas. He needs to be a part of this.”

Later that night, Cas, Sam, and Dean all piled into the impala and set off to your location that they had found earlier that day by asking a few more locals not knowing exactly what to expect. Throughout the car ride, Sam and Dean kept telling Cas that it was just a demon controlling you. That this wasn't really you, because you were too sweet. They tried everything they could to calm Castiel down, but he was extremely worried about you and had been ever since you left the bunker.

Six months ago…

Castiel had left you after saying he wanted to end things. He had no idea of the repercussions that his actions would cause. He explained that he was only doing it for your safety, because he didn’t want you to get hurt. You suspected that there was more to it than that, because he had been distant for weeks beforehand.

You stayed strong while Cas was there, not wanting him to see how he was the one who held you together. Not wanting him to see how now that he was gone from your life how broken you were. As soon as he left, you stormed to your room and packed all your things not wanting to ever risk seeing him or anything related to him ever again. Hot furious tears ran down your cheeks as you shoved everything that was yours into a duffel bag. You left behind everything that Cas had ever given you.

You weren’t one to let things go. You had to get him back. As you rode away in the taxi cab, you thought of all the things he hated when suddenly the perfect idea came to you. Demons. He hates demons. They’re the complete opposite of him and everything he represents. A demon could make me stronger than before, and they could take away the pain I’m feeling.

You found the nearest crossroad and summoned a demon. The demon were surprised that you were willing to be possessed by a demon and not get anything in return. At first, they thought it was a trick and began to walk away. Only after tears began streaming down your face and you yelled at them to please not leave did they take you seriously.

“Please,” you begged as your bottom lip quivered.

You didn’t explain why you were crying figuring that the demon who possessed you would find out and would tell the others.

Once the demon possessed you, you didn’t hold back at all. You let it take complete control and also take away any emotions you felt. The demon taught you and persuaded you to begin doing different things on your own. Soon, you were just as evil, if not worse, than the demon. Your creative mind made your terrible acts worse than anyone could imagine. After your fifth sinful act, the demon figured you were ready to be on your own.

After it left, you didn’t let any of the emotions come back. You were a heartless killing machine. Occasionally you got sloppy which led to hunters finding you. After they had been incapacitated with shock that you were in fact human and not the Y/N they once knew, you dealt with them each time in a new, creative, and worse way.

The impala pulled outside of the metal warehouse that you’d been hiding in since your most recent kill.

“Stay here. I’ll deal with her,” Cas ordered as he stepped out of Baby.

“Like hell we will. Remember, you’re the one who caused this. The demon may use you against her,” Dean said as he and Sam followed Cas' lead.

“Fine.”

Dean kicked down the entrance door which revealed a maze of dreary gray hallways with almost identical doors. The one thing that made the doors different from each other was that they were labeled with red numbers.

“Find the door that has eleven on it. That’s her lucky number,” Sam whispered.

They turned the corner and found the door. Dean kicked this door open in the same fashion that he had with the entrance door.

“Finally,” was all you said as you saw the door burst open.

The men walked into the room. Sam and Dean had their guns trained on you, and Cas had his angel blade raised. They surveyed the room with their eyes. The walls and ceiling were made of a cheap silvery metal. The floor was made of some type of linoleum and was extremely dusty. The only furniture in the room was a metal table in the center and a chair behind it which you were sitting in with a gun in your right hand and your feet propped up on the table. You leaned your chair back as you began to talk.

“I was wondering how long it was going to take you boys to find me,” you egged.

“Y/N?” Cas questioned.

“I’m sorry, the old Y/N can’t come to the phone right now,” you said. The three intruders raised their eyebrows. “Why? Oh, because she’s dead!”

“Y/N, it’ll be okay,” Cas said putting his angel blade down slowly trying not to be phased by your last statement.

Upon hearing this you put the chair back on four legs and looked Cas dead in the eyes with your eyebrows raised. “Oh honey, I haven’t been okay since you left. Well, that is until a nice little demon found me.”

“That’s just the demon talking,” Dean muttered to Cas with his gun still pointed towards you.

“Speaking of, I think that thing has possessed Y/N a little too long,” Sam began. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus--”

You cut Sam off as you began laughing.

“That’s funny, Sam. But I don’t think that’ll work on a human,” you laughed.

“What?” Sam asked clearly confused.

“Well, the demon left a while ago,” you began. You raised up your hand and began counting your fingers. “Four months ago actually.”

“Y/N, what happened to you?” Cas asked.

“You did, Castiel. You’re what happened to me. Look what you made me do,” you gestured up and down your body.

“But if you truly want to know, I’ll tell you. At least the short version. You broke my heart when you left even though you locked me out long before that. The role you made me play of a fool wasn’t fun. I left. The world moved on another day, another drama. But not for me. All I thought about was karma. And then, I realized the perfect karma would be to turn into everything you hate. I think I did a pretty good job myself,” you taunted.

“What happened to me, Castiel,” you put emphasis on his name, “is that you hurt me, but I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time. Honey, I rose up from the dead. Now, I do it all the time. Honestly, this is the best I’ve felt in a long time.”

“No, Y/N. This can’t be what you want. This isn’t my Y/N,” Cas said his eyes pleading with you to come back to him.

“I enjoy not being held back by petty emotions or by expectations of how I should act. I don’t trust nobody and nobody trusts me. It actually works out quite well.”

“Y/N snap out of it. I love you. I always have, and I always will. This evilness is not you. You, Y/N, are sweet, caring, and compassionate. You aren’t a monster,” Cas explained except it sounded less like he was talking to you, but more himself. He was trying to convince himself that you didn’t turn into this, because of him and that he could still win you back.

“Damn it, Cassie. How many times do I need to say it?” you raised your voice beginning to get aggravated. “I’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams, if that’s what you want. Cause after all, you’ll turn this around to where you’re the hero, and I'm the villain, because you always do in situations like this. The truth is Castiel, you’re the villain. You’re the one that caused all of this to happen. You’re the one who left me in the first place. I didn’t start this! You did! You!”

Cas was startled and hurt by what you said. However, he realized that you were becoming more aggressive, and you needed to be stopped. Cas motioned towards the Winchesters who stood behind him, who were absolutely dismayed after everything you said, to take you down.

As soon as they began moving, you raised your gun and shot each of the Winchesters in the knee cap. They both instantly fell down and clutched their knees. Each dealt with the pain in their own ways. Dean cussed and tried to not move it as Sam took deep breaths in slowly backing up against the wall grabbing at his knee trying to stop the blood that was pouring out.

“Look what you just made me do, Castiel. That wasn’t necessary. Afterall, I don’t like you. I have nothing on either of them. They were the nice ones.”

You took your eyes off the men and began slowly pacing behind the table. Dean quickly slipped Cas a vial of liquid that would knock you unconscious. You aimed your gun at a random spot in the wall before turning your attention back to Cas.

“You see, I got a list of names and yours is in red underlined. There are many names on this list of people to deal with after they’d hurt me when I was weaker. I’m just beginning with you. It should be easy though since you’re so emotional. Honestly, I preferred you when you first met Dean. Before you became weak. Before you became attached to the idea of saving humanity. All of them, every single one, is like me deep down. They can’t be saved. Just like you can’t save me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Cas lunged at you across the table and stuck the needle in your neck. You felt the stinging of the liquid entering your bloodstream and began to feel tired.

“What the fuck did you just do to me?” you asked sleepily. Castiel walked around the table and came up behind you. You fell into him, and he held you tightly not wanting anymore harm to come to you.

“What I’m doing is saving you,” Cas whispered in your ear as everything turned black, and you drifted off into unconsciousness.

Dean pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen a couple times before raising it to his ear.

“Hey. What’s up?” a familiar voice said.

“It’s just, I can’t believe we let Crowley walk after what he did to Cas,” Dean freed the persistently nagging thought from the confines of his skull.

“I know, but it was Cas’ call. And he made a valid point. The devil you know…”

“Yeah, yeah, is worth two in the bush,” Dean blustered.

“That’s not how the saying goes,” Sam’s lip twisted in amusement. “A bird in the hand…”

“Enough with the damn birds already!” Dean groused. His green eyes glazed somberly, “You really think Cas doesn’t remember anything? I mean, when he called he didn’t ask about the missing chunk of time when he was with her. It’s like he doesn’t know it’s gone.”

“I guess that’s how the reversal of the spell works,” Sam murmured, “clean slate.”

“She was good for him, you know,” Dean stated.

Sam nodded agreement.

“I can’t believe a connection like that just ends,” Dean continued, reflecting on the dull anguish that dogged in his own heart any time something reminded him of his stint at normal with Lisa. Letting Lisa go, that had been Dean’s choice to protect her and Ben. But you and Cas, you were given no real choice – you were fatefully thrust into each other’s lives by a demon’s spell and cruelly torn asunder to protect the world from an unspeakable struggle for power like some unfeeling puppeteer’s playthings.

“It’s not fair,” Sam observed with a frown, the memory of Jess misting his vision, “but then nothing about this life we lead is.”

The metallic clang of the bunker door lock disengaging heralded their friend’s homecoming.

“Speak of the angel,” Dean cleared his throat roughly, cautioning a return to silence on the matter.

“Hey Cas!” Sam wore a welcoming smile.

Cas disregarded Sam’s warm greeting, plodding heavily down the stairs.

“What’s up buddy?” Dean tried.

The ceiling, the sky, sea levels, neighborhood crime rates, the S&P 500 – Dean would have preferred any of these answers over the solemn shrug of the seraph’s shoulders he received.

As he trudged through the library, Cas delivered a plastic grocery bag into Sam’s lap. Shunning the available chairs at the table where the brothers sat, the angel sank heavily into the leather lounge nestled out of the way in the alcove of shelves.

Sam reached into the rustling bag, confusion distorting his features as he pulled out a single roll of Charmin brand extra soft toilet paper. “Uh, thanks?” he slurred, lifting a bewildered brow at Dean.

Waving a dismissive hand, Dean aped complete ignorance. “How was New Jersey?” he flashed an affable grin at the angel.

“The solid waste incineration facility there was delightfully efficient,” Cas replied in a sarcastic disinterested monotone. “The operations manager in particular was very kind in permitting me a so-called one-time pass for stealing a ride on his transport barge. According to him, people have been arrested over far less serious crimes against humanity’s rubbish and I should consider myself extremely lucky.” The stern set of his jaw hinted at his preference not to be harassed further by the mundanity of small talk.

An awkward hush descended on the room.

Sam returned to his research.

Cas morosely folded inward on himself, haunted by that hollow unidentifiable aching void afflicting his celestial heart.

And Dean, Dean decided he had had enough. Clapping his hands sharply upon the table for emphasis and to signify the degree of his doneness, he rose, announcing, “Enough! That’s it! I’m done!”

Sam flinched at the sudden reversal of conduct, lanky legs kicking out in all directions under the table to slide his chair backward several squealing inches. He reflexively slammed the cover of the laptop shut.

Cas glanced up indifferently, met Sam’s stunned gaping mien and squinted one eye in a manner inaudibly inquiring as to whether or not he should be alarmed by Dean’s outburst.

Sam’s lips flared over his clenched teeth suggesting, in answer, that he had absolutely no idea but the odds hovered around 50/50.

“Do you hear me?” Dean boomed, shaking a fist at the ceiling.

“Kind of hard not to when you’re yelling and we’re sitting right here,” Sam griped.

“I’m done! Done with the universe dicking us around. Dammit all, and damn Crowley to Hell!” Dean sucked in a deep breath and pointed a cautioning finger at Sam, “And I know that’s a totally redundant statement, so shut your pie-hole smarty pants.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam held up an outstretched palm endeavoring to reason with his brother, “just sit down and relax and we’ll talk it out.”

“That’s just it, I’m done relaxing. Done talking. Done accepting the crap shoveled our way. Why shouldn’t Cas get the chance to screw up his happy ending all on his own like the rest of us? After all the sacrifice, one of us deserves a fighting chance. And maybe it’s the angel.”

Cas’ sad blue eyes settled attentively on the universe railing Winchester.

“Come on,” Dean rounded the table to grab the brooding angel by the coat sleeve and haul him to his feet, “you’re going on vacation. And don’t give me some snarky line about how angels don’t take vacations.”

Cas shook free of Dean’s boorish grip, smoothed his rumpled sleeve, and unassumingly asked, “Where?”

“To get back something very important you lost.”

Cas exhaled the shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in since the moment you banished him.

The hammock, peacefully slung in the dappled shade between two cottonwoods by the lakeshore, rocked subtly as you dozed in the late afternoon heat lulled by the cheery twittering song of goldfinches as they flitted about in a nearby mass of coneflowers picking the delicious seeds from the drying flower heads. It was the strident flap of their wings in fearful flight which alerted you to the presence of the stranger abiding calmly beside the hammock. Shielding your eyes with your upturned hand, you made out the form of a dark-haired, trench coat wearing, handsome, strikingly blue-eyed man staring apologetically down at you with the halo of the sun behind his head.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he hadn’t meant to wake you – coming upon your peacefully drowsing figure he felt like he saw an apparition – something shimmering golden and bright just out of his grasp. He lingered too long in his reverie, captivated by the sun-freckled glow of your skin, and unintentionally roused you. He swept a hand towards the cottage, “No one answered at the door.”

“You don’t say?” you mocked shock, a half-grin betraying you as you swung out of the hammock and landed squarely on your feet. “That’s probably because whomever lives there is lazily sleeping away the afternoon somewhere comfy. Guess it’s a good thing you dropped in out of nowhere to save what’s left of the day.”

“I drove.”

“What?”

“I didn’t drop in, I drove,” he insisted earnestly.

You failed to stifle a bubbling laugh, “Oh, my mistake.”

He cocked his head curiously, an unexpected surge of pleasant heat rising in his chest to flush his cheeks at the heartwarming quality of your laughter. He continued, “I’m renting the Holmes’ place. Well, my friend Dean actually rented it for me. He insisted I needed to do some soul-searching and that this was the very place to do it in.” He didn’t mention the fact that he was an angel and didn’t actually have a soul to search. And anyway, when he confronted Dean with this very same point, Dean had accused him of being too literal for his own damn good.

“Dean? As in Sam and Dean Winchester?” you asked.

“You know them?” he did not disguise the surprise in his husky tone.

“You could say that,” you held up a bandaged hand for him to see. “Strangest thing happened last week. I guess I cut myself pretty badly with pruning shears and fainted. I don’t really remember it happening, but luckily Sam and Dean were hiking the shore trail, heard me cry out, and came running to the rescue. Anyway,” you brushed off the odd experience that never sat comfortably in your memory whenever you thought about it, “I must be boring you. You probably just want to pick up the keys to get on with your vacation. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow. What did you do, drive all night?”

He bobbed his head affirmatively, replying, “I don’t sleep.” Adding sincerely because, for some fleeting reason he couldn’t quite pin down, he truly didn’t, “I don’t find you boring at all.”

You laughed again, starting up toward the cottage by way of the gardens.

He closely followed.

“Can I interest you in a cup of tea?” you proposed, glancing hopefully over your shoulder. Something about his endearingly awkward demeanor thrummed your heartstrings.

“I would like that very much,” his tongue accepted the offer before his mind processed the question. As it turned out, he happened to agree wholeheartedly with his tongue.

“By the way, I’m Y/N,” you wondered how you’d gotten this far into a conversation without the practical subject of names arising.

“Castiel. Or Cas, if you prefer.”

“Castiel,” you repeated, “it’s a beautiful name.”

He thought it sounded more beautiful to him when spoken by you. “Thank you,” he bashfully dropped his regard to the stony ground between his feet.

“I’ll be right back,” you smiled at his shyness, “going to put the water on for tea.” You left him to wander the cobblestone paths through the garden alone.

Meandering up the winding path, a patch of blue in the shade of the porch keenly drew his notice. Walking nearer, he bent to graze his fingertips lightly over the delicate perfumed sea of cerulean petals.

“Periwinkle,” you whispered. Coming up beside him, you crouched, touching his shoulder for balance, to pick a tiny bouquet.

He straightened, angelic heart bounding at the memory of the fragile burned flower mysteriously in his possession on the barge and how it and he came to be there.

You twisted the plucked bloom between two fingers, a kindling spark of recognition illuminating in your expression. “You know, they’re almost a perfect match for your eyes,” you noted with a wistful smile. Tracing quivering fingers along the inside of his coat lapel, tears and recollection glinting in your eyes, you threaded the stem through a button hole, and patted the fabric to lay flat.