#syluk

The Wrath of Heaven (Supernatural AU fanfic on Ao3) The Archangel Michael hadn't planned to stay human for so long, and he certainly hadn't expected to reincarnate as Dean Winchester, the human who broke the first seal of Lucifer's cage and who by his Father's Will was supposed to become his true vessel. (AU from season 4, BAMF Michael!Dean)

Chapter 14: And Then, the Heavens Screamed

Powerful pulses rolled out across the ground in a steady rhythm as if the earth had turned into a giant living creature that breathed. Overhead, the storm clouds directly above the church began to split by some unseen force tearing them in two. The sky gaped open in precise, symmetrical lines, and the brilliant light that glowed from within was anything but natural.

Dean recognized that light in an instant—one of the Seraphim was charging a smite.

And not a simple smite, but the kind that didn't simply cleanse, but annihilated. A single, devastating strike that would leave behind nothing but a scorched crater and glassed earth. A divine nuke in every sense.

<...>

Sam barely registered the destruction. His gaze was drawn upward, mouth parting in disbelief, only now noticing the split sky Dean had watched earlier. Light finally broke through the clouds, falling down in searing beams so intense he had to raise a hand to shield his eyes. More and more poured out, threading and merging together, converging in a single, blinding column that gradually engulfed the ruined church.

<...>

The smite descended.

A shockwave detonated from the point of impact, tearing through space, bending the laws of nature until the very weaves of reality distorted. The world went white and soundless. Every window in every building and car blew up in a rain of glass. Trees splintered and broke. Lampposts crumpled like paper. People were tossed like ragdolls, some with inaudible cries, some silent forever, some with ruined eyes that would never see again.

Time stuttered and stopped. Everything was still.

Then, slowly, it restarted. The whiteness began to recede, colors flooded back, and the world righted itself. The sound returned as a cacophony of noise and screams and car alarms blearing all around. The light pillar narrowed, edges fraying into shimmering mist, until there was only a thin line left that retreated upward like a sword being withdrawn into the heavens. The clouds folded in, reforming over the rift as if nothing had ever happened.

Dean exhaled and pulled his grace back inward, releasing the shield that protected the Impala from the impact. Streets were turning chaotic, people were stumbling from buildings in panicked waves and running around, and he had to focus on the road.

"Oh my god…" Sam whispered, craning to look through the rare window again.

Nothing was left in the area they had just escaped from. Only a wide expanse of incinerated land, a few remaining structures charred and crumbling from the weakest breeze.

Dean glanced at it in the side mirror, quickly assessing the aftermath. All things considered, the smite was remarkably contained. Seraphim specialized in mass destruction and were capable of leveling entire cities without breaking a sweat. This strike, however, had been extremely precise, its firepower compressed into a tight, surgical burst.

Definitely not Uriel's style. And the other two Seraphs Dean had seen in the squad didn't seem strong enough to pull off something like that. Castiel, then.

The Wrath of Heaven (Supernatural AU fanfic on Ao3) The Archangel Michael hadn't planned to stay human for so long, and he certainly hadn't expected to reincarnate as Dean Winchester, the human who broke the first seal of Lucifer's cage and who by his Father's Will was supposed to become his true vessel. (AU from season 4, BAMF Michael!Dean)

Chapter 12: Rot in the Feathers

“What about you?” Dean asked. “You really buy into all this? Just following orders, doing what you’re told, no matter what it costs?”

Castiel found the man’s piercing gaze unnerving, as if it cut through his vessel, past the flesh and bone, seeing deeper, seeing his true self. It unsettled him. Without realizing it, he drew his wings in tighter. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, a thought of what Dean would say if he truly saw his true form, if he knew that Castiel bore the same taint as the Fallen that harmed him earlier.

“I was created to follow Heaven’s will,” he answered, paused, then opened his mouth to add something, but instead, closed it.

“I can hear ‘but’ coming.”

Encouraged by Dean’s gentle prompting, Castiel continued, “But… I find that I have questions. I have doubts.” His words flowed out with weary hesitance. He would have never confessed it to any of his siblings, because he had heard horror stories about Heaven’s punishment for any signs of rebellious thoughts. And yet, for some reason, he trusted Dean to keep it a secret.

One of his wings twitched, a twinge of pain running through it. Castiel brought it forward, noticing a loose black feather stuck halfway, broken and bent. He reached for it and yanked it out with force. It was sticky and unpleasant, leaving black marks on his fingers. He let the feather go and watched it dissolve into dark particles before dispersing with the gust of wind.

“I get it,” Dean spoke finally. “I really do. You spend so long following orders, thinking someone else knows better than you, that it becomes your belief, your shield, your everything. But listen, Cas.” He fixed Castiel with those piercing green eyes that appeared almost golden against the glowing town backdrop. “Faith isn’t blind obedience. Doubts don’t mean you’re wrong, and questions aren’t sinful. It means you care. And sometimes, they lead you to the real truth.”

In an instant, indignation ignited inside Castiel, rising like a tidal wave, rebuke on the tip of his tongue. ‘Heaven’s will is absolute’ was a dogma his entire existence was built around. And yet, he couldn’t voice it now, couldn’t put it into words. If Heaven’s will was absolute, why did he pray that Dean would choose to save this place? Why was he so relieved when he did?

“If you ignore your doubts, they’ll just grow stronger. And one day…” Dean trailed off, staring somewhere into the distance. His mouth cracked open in a wry smile, so full of sadness and regret, shame and guilt, it looked absolutely out of place.

Castiel wondered what kind of bad memories haunted him and if it was possible to chase them away.

Soon, Dean cleared his throat, visibly pulling himself out of the moment. “And one day, you’ll look back and regret everything,” he finished, but a touch of sadness still lingered, written in the lines of his features. “Trust me. I’ve been there.”

*scurries out*