I will start my blog out with some fan fiction. This scenario occurs between one of my own characters, Alessa, and the character Castiel from the show Supernatural. I own no rights to any Supernatural characters or content.
Length: 781 words
A flutter of wings alerted Alessa to an angelic presence. She turned, expecting her companion, only to be met by an unfamiliar face. He was tall with dark hair and deep blue eyes, clothed in a loose-fitting suit and a dirty trench coat.
“Who might you be?” she asked, stiffening slightly.
“I am Castiel,” he responded, his voice gruff. “I have never seen or heard of you in heaven; who are you?”
He was forward and to the point. Typical angel, Alessa smiled inwardly.
“Hello, Castiel. My name is Alessa. I haven’t been around for very long and I was only in heaven for a short while before I was sent back to Earth. It’s no wonder you’ve never heard of me. I barely made it through the gates, you might say.”
“There are no gates into heaven…” Castiel said, deadpan. Alessa fought against rolling her eyes. Yes, typical angel. Were they all really like that?
“Sorry – expression…” she muttered. “So, what are you here for? I figure you must have sought me out for a reason.”
“I was in the area and felt your presence. I didn’t recognize you, so I decided to investigate.”
“Are you hunting the group of demons, too?”
“Yes, the Winchesters and I –“
“The Winchesters?” Alessa cut in. “Who are they?”
“You aren’t even aware of the Winchesters…” he mumbled, more of a statement than a question. “They are human hunters. They have knowledge about the workings of heaven, hell and everything in between.” A small smile crossed his lips. “They are good friends of mine.”
Alessa’s head was spinning. Human companions? Hunters? Why hadn’t Keegan – or God, for that matter – informed her of these people? More importantly, Castiel had human friends. People who knew what he was. Why was he overlooked when she had been told not to reach out to anyone, herself? A pang of jealousy stabbed into her chest. Shaking her head, she cast the feeling aside. Her duties were for her, alone, and she had to obey her terms.
“I suppose you’ve been an angel for a while?” she asked speculatively. “You certainly act and speak like one.”
Castiel looked at her, his head tilted and his eyebrows knit. “Well, of course. I’ve been around since the beginning.”
Alessa shifted under his gaze. “Do you remember what it’s like?”
He paused. “I don’t understand.”
“Being human.” She finished softly.
He simply stared at her. She couldn’t possibly know about his falling from grace; she barely knew the workings of their own kind. In that case, what was she talking about? What could she –
“You…” he gasped. “Were you a human?”
She chewed her lip and looked away, shifted, then nodded. Geez, she thought it was general angel knowledge. Clearly she was meant to be kept a secret. But wait…
“You weren’t?” It was her turn to tilt her head. Damned angel habits were beginning to affect her.
“I was born an angel, like everyone else. Or so I thought.” He scratched his chin. “Interesting…”
She felt like a science project. “So you don’t know… You’ve never felt emotion? I was like that when I first came back to Earth – focused, emotionless – but then something happened and now I’m like a human in an angel’s body.” Did angels even have bodies?
Castiel scratched his chin again. Discomfort flashed over his face and was quickly replaced by exasperation. After a few moments, he sighed. “I rebelled against heaven because I could – I can – feel. I did what I still believe to be the right thing, and I ended up falling. I became human for a short time. Yes, I do know a bit about what you’re talking about. However, I don’t have any more of an idea of how to deal with it than you do.”
“But how do you manage your duties when you’re tied to someone?” she cried. “How do you know you’re making the right choices?”
“I don’t know,” he sighed again. He looked so tired. “Sometimes you won’t make the right choices, despite your best intentions. All you can really do is hold on to what keeps you here – whatever keeps you fighting.”
An image of light, tousled hair and bright, smiling eyes shone through her mind. Yes, whatever – whoever – kept her fighting: the person she swore to protect, against all odds.
“Thank you, Castiel.” She smiled at him. “No matter what mistakes you’ve made, I’m sure your friends will always forgive you in the end, because what else are friends for?”
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “I hope you’re right.”
And with the soft whisper of feathers, he was gone.
“Typical angel,” she chuckled.