Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collegedropout) wrote2013-08-12 09:53 pm
collegedropout) wrote2013-08-12 09:53 pm
Entry tags:
IC Contact.
"This is Sam -- just leave a message, I'll get back to you."
"This is Sam -- just leave a message, I'll get back to you."
[He watches Sam as he speaks, though his gaze drops again at the mention of his actions. There's guilt when he thinks of it--there always will be, intensely--and confusion, but also some sense of relief that Sam understands. He's never really compared their situations or drawn parallels between them like this, but they're undeniable and on some level, it makes Castiel feel better. He isn't the only one to have made terrible mistakes.
He's silent for another few seconds, trying to decide if he wants to continue with the topic, but Sam has been honest and so he will be as well.]
I can see now, the mistakes I made, but at that time everything made sense. It seemed clear and reasonable, if extreme.
[And that's what's terrifying about it all; he had been deteriorating for some time before he opened Purgatory, breaking down from the stress of the war and everything else. He's been better here, and several months have passed since he found his thoughts going anywhere incredibly strange, and he's learning to recognize when something is off. But that doesn't truly alleviate the fear that comes from knowing you can't trust yourself.
Finding out what Naomi had done to him, for so long, has only made it more confusing. He had been out of her control during the war, for the longest span of time ever, potentially; what if he had become so erratic because he was returning to 'normal' and he truly was created wrong, that God had made a mistake with him, as Lucifer had told him here in a fit of rage and Castiel had never forgotten. Or, worse, what if Naomi's meddling has damaged him irrevocably, and this is the end result?
He doesn't know, and he probably never will, but it's a shadow he's been carrying with him ever since he returned to Adstringendum. There's a feeling that Sam might understand--truly understand--if Castiel can explain, but he isn't sure he can manage to do so or if he even wants to.
He realizes he's been staring at the baseboards again for some time, and lifts his head a little to look at Sam once more.]
Was it the same for you?
He's silent for another few seconds, trying to decide if he wants to continue with the topic, but Sam has been honest and so he will be as well.]
I can see now, the mistakes I made, but at that time everything made sense. It seemed clear and reasonable, if extreme.
[And that's what's terrifying about it all; he had been deteriorating for some time before he opened Purgatory, breaking down from the stress of the war and everything else. He's been better here, and several months have passed since he found his thoughts going anywhere incredibly strange, and he's learning to recognize when something is off. But that doesn't truly alleviate the fear that comes from knowing you can't trust yourself.
Finding out what Naomi had done to him, for so long, has only made it more confusing. He had been out of her control during the war, for the longest span of time ever, potentially; what if he had become so erratic because he was returning to 'normal' and he truly was created wrong, that God had made a mistake with him, as Lucifer had told him here in a fit of rage and Castiel had never forgotten. Or, worse, what if Naomi's meddling has damaged him irrevocably, and this is the end result?
He doesn't know, and he probably never will, but it's a shadow he's been carrying with him ever since he returned to Adstringendum. There's a feeling that Sam might understand--truly understand--if Castiel can explain, but he isn't sure he can manage to do so or if he even wants to.
He realizes he's been staring at the baseboards again for some time, and lifts his head a little to look at Sam once more.]
Was it the same for you?
[He hesitates for a moment, both out of trying to find the right words and being guilty himself, of his mindset then. He had never set out for bad intentions. The truth was, he wanted to help people, stop the end of the world, and maybe die in the process. It seemed like... like the only way — the right way — to go. Especially because in the end, he couldn't simply kill himself out of anger and grief and loneliness. He couldn't, because it would have been a disgrace, after what his brother gave up to let him live.
He was forced to live. That's horrible to put it that way, but... it was true.
And then... everything else — ]
Yeah. Was kind of more driven by grief and anger and all kinds of weird things, but — yeah. I helped a lot of people with my powers. Seemed reasonable at the time, y'know? Save people from possessions, kill demons. And I was good at it.
I just sort of veered off course. If there was ever a course to doing something as stupid as ingesting a demon's blood.
At the time, I thought I could use something bad and turn it good. Fix things. But of course, you know the rest; I just ended up making things a thousand times more worse.
[Talking about this is kind of weird, but at the same time... it's pretty easy. He's long-since found it within himself to forgive a little, because... hell, he was trapped with satan for a while. Busting out of Hell gave him time to shake off Lucifer's words and realize he had paid his dues.]
He was forced to live. That's horrible to put it that way, but... it was true.
And then... everything else — ]
Yeah. Was kind of more driven by grief and anger and all kinds of weird things, but — yeah. I helped a lot of people with my powers. Seemed reasonable at the time, y'know? Save people from possessions, kill demons. And I was good at it.
I just sort of veered off course. If there was ever a course to doing something as stupid as ingesting a demon's blood.
At the time, I thought I could use something bad and turn it good. Fix things. But of course, you know the rest; I just ended up making things a thousand times more worse.
[Talking about this is kind of weird, but at the same time... it's pretty easy. He's long-since found it within himself to forgive a little, because... hell, he was trapped with satan for a while. Busting out of Hell gave him time to shake off Lucifer's words and realize he had paid his dues.]
[Castiel nods, understanding now so much more than he had back then. Everything had been different when Castiel had first met them, when it had seemed so clear that Sam was some sort of abomination, going against God's Will and down an unnatural, corrupt path. Castiel's opinion of the subject had shifted quickly, during the Apocalypse when he began to bond more with Sam and understand how much wrong had been done on all sides, but it's only now that he can really look at it from Sam's perspective and see how things went so far, and why.]
If it is of consolation, the Apocalypse would have begun regardless.
[Castiel truly believes that; even if Dean had stopped Sam from killing Lilith, the seals would've been broken another way. The angels weren't going to accept the Apocalypse being over before it began, as evidenced by everything they had done to bring it about.
Sam had given the final shove, but if he hadn't, someone else would've done it not long after.
Something else comes to mind, and Castiel's fingers tighten a little on the edge of the counter as he argues with himself about saying it. It happened so long ago, it seems, but it's important and he's never told either of the Winchesters even though he thinks they may have guessed at it. He's afraid to admit it, but Sam deserves to know, and considering what Sam has forgiven him for this is relatively small.
Finally, he speaks, and he can't look Sam in the eye as he does so.]
And you would have never had opportunity to go after Lilith had I not let you out of Bobby's panic room.
If it is of consolation, the Apocalypse would have begun regardless.
[Castiel truly believes that; even if Dean had stopped Sam from killing Lilith, the seals would've been broken another way. The angels weren't going to accept the Apocalypse being over before it began, as evidenced by everything they had done to bring it about.
Sam had given the final shove, but if he hadn't, someone else would've done it not long after.
Something else comes to mind, and Castiel's fingers tighten a little on the edge of the counter as he argues with himself about saying it. It happened so long ago, it seems, but it's important and he's never told either of the Winchesters even though he thinks they may have guessed at it. He's afraid to admit it, but Sam deserves to know, and considering what Sam has forgiven him for this is relatively small.
Finally, he speaks, and he can't look Sam in the eye as he does so.]
And you would have never had opportunity to go after Lilith had I not let you out of Bobby's panic room.
[Sam sighs, stepping up again. He aims.
There's a pause, a quiet refocus as he compares his old arrows with the way he's aiming — he's so honed in, when the tree shakes abruptly and loudly he's jerking his aim up out of habit and firing at the noise. It hits a winged bird, square in the head, and it spirals down to the earth.
...
He points at it, super sure of himself.]
Moving target is double points. It counts.
[Also don't be alarmed, Dean, but upon approaching the bird....
Well, it's kind of horrifying:
Jesus Christ it's a sharkbird.]
There's a pause, a quiet refocus as he compares his old arrows with the way he's aiming — he's so honed in, when the tree shakes abruptly and loudly he's jerking his aim up out of habit and firing at the noise. It hits a winged bird, square in the head, and it spirals down to the earth.
...
He points at it, super sure of himself.]
Moving target is double points. It counts.
[Also don't be alarmed, Dean, but upon approaching the bird....
Well, it's kind of horrifying:
Jesus Christ it's a sharkbird.]
Son of a bitch.
[A low mumble, this time with less enthusiasm, because Sam has a point — moving targets are harder. Still though...]
You can't just make up rules as you go.
[They weren't even up to moving targets yet, for one, and for two, you gotta say that shit before you go shooting things down.
But the comment mostly stems from annoyance because Dean definitely had this in the bag before Sam took that shot.
Dean walks over to see what Sam killed and —]
What the hell is that? Can we even eat it?
[A low mumble, this time with less enthusiasm, because Sam has a point — moving targets are harder. Still though...]
You can't just make up rules as you go.
[They weren't even up to moving targets yet, for one, and for two, you gotta say that shit before you go shooting things down.
But the comment mostly stems from annoyance because Dean definitely had this in the bag before Sam took that shot.
Dean walks over to see what Sam killed and —]
What the hell is that? Can we even eat it?
[Sam's totally about to defend his right to awesome moving target points, but then he takes one look at that freaky-ass thing and immediately leans back. Because what the fuck did he just shoot.]
I -- uh.
We could try?
...
Birdshark?
[???????]
I -- uh.
We could try?
...
Birdshark?
[???????]
... the salt thing could be useful.
Good to have a steady supply of salt.
So unicorns are a common thing around here?
Good to have a steady supply of salt.
So unicorns are a common thing around here?
[... Huh. He looks at Castiel, momentary surprise flicking through his vision, before he looks back down to the table. That's not exactly something he expected to hear today, to be sure. He doesn't seem outwardly upset, though, because... it was a long time ago, and mistakes were made. Mostly by him. At the time Castiel was still very much an angel, in how he operated. Follow orders, get things done, move on. And while it's sad and he admittedly finds it painful to think too much about, it's still just... stuff that happened.
It's like Dean had said before, a long time ago. Clean slate.]
... I always wondered.
Team effort, I guess.
It's like Dean had said before, a long time ago. Clean slate.]
... I always wondered.
Team effort, I guess.
[Castiel doesn't look up, shoulders drawing a little more tense, both because of guilt for his actions and because that time is painful for him to think about too. It had been the first time--he'd thought--that he had disobeyed and incurred the penalties for it, and fear of being taken back to Heaven again had caused him to do things he never should've done. He should've been stronger, shouldn't have given in; maybe the Apocalypse wouldn't have happened, and maybe--probably--Anna would still be alive.
But he doesn't say any of that, idly catching the heel of one of his boots against the cabinets he's sitting on and letting it drop repetitively as something to focus on. He's glad Sam isn't shouting, or worse looking incredibly hurt, but he still feels pretty terrible about it.]
I suppose so.
I'm sorry.
[It feels like all he does now is apologize, but he means it.]
But he doesn't say any of that, idly catching the heel of one of his boots against the cabinets he's sitting on and letting it drop repetitively as something to focus on. He's glad Sam isn't shouting, or worse looking incredibly hurt, but he still feels pretty terrible about it.]
I suppose so.
I'm sorry.
[It feels like all he does now is apologize, but he means it.]
[Dean makes a face. Don't get him wrong, he enjoys eating, and he's taken a kind of domestic pleasure in trying out the different animals around the city — although he'd never admit it — but eating a hybrid like that just seems a little wrong. Do you prep it like chicken or like fish? Will it taste like one or the other — or both?]
We'll bring it back with us. Couldn't hurt.
[...Maybe.
Meanwhile, Dean looks up.]
Now I gotta find a bird or something and show you up.
[Since someone decided it was time to move on to moving targets.]
We'll bring it back with us. Couldn't hurt.
[...Maybe.
Meanwhile, Dean looks up.]
Now I gotta find a bird or something and show you up.
[Since someone decided it was time to move on to moving targets.]
[He snorts at that last bit, but points to the bird.]
You make that into something that actually tastes good, I'll give you this shooting match.
[And yeah, fine. You win the pouting contest thing, too.
He's starting to forget you're an absolute butthole.]
You make that into something that actually tastes good, I'll give you this shooting match.
[And yeah, fine. You win the pouting contest thing, too.
He's starting to forget you're an absolute butthole.]
... I know you are. [Castiel wouldn't have brought it into the open if he wasn't. Not after all this. He sighs, rubbing the back of his head, letting this all sink in. At least it's not as bad as being Lucifer's reluctant friend. At least there's that.] I know. It's in the past. Besides, you made up for it, helping with the apocalypse, dying like you did. So. Don't sweat it.
A lot of us made stupid choices, but we've made up for it, I think.
A lot of us made stupid choices, but we've made up for it, I think.
[He nods a little, uncertain, but agreeing in regards to the Apocalypse at least. They had all made mistakes there, but none of them had been entirely their own faults, and they had made it right.
Castiel's later actions, however, he can't justify away or fix, and he's still holding onto those mistakes, though he doesn't mention that. Instead, he's quiet for awhile, then slides off the counter to his feet again.]
Gabriel has more honey. I'll ask him to refill your jar.
Castiel's later actions, however, he can't justify away or fix, and he's still holding onto those mistakes, though he doesn't mention that. Instead, he's quiet for awhile, then slides off the counter to his feet again.]
Gabriel has more honey. I'll ask him to refill your jar.
No way. Who do I look like, Rachael Ray?
[He isn't taking that wager, and besides, he wants to earn his win the right way. Not by taking an out like that.
But he's glad to see that this is working and Sam's no longer pissy.
He catches movement up ahead, and readies his bow, waiting.]
[He isn't taking that wager, and besides, he wants to earn his win the right way. Not by taking an out like that.
But he's glad to see that this is working and Sam's no longer pissy.
He catches movement up ahead, and readies his bow, waiting.]
[He huffs in good nature at that.]
I don't know if I need anymore from him. I think owing him one favor is enough, with the sigils he punched into my ribs.
[...]
Sorry about messing up yours, by the way.
I don't know if I need anymore from him. I think owing him one favor is enough, with the sigils he punched into my ribs.
[...]
Sorry about messing up yours, by the way.
I'm the one requesting it, not you. He owes me for taking an arrow for him.
[Which is totally not true, as Castiel wouldn't be holding his brother to any sort of debt even if Gabriel hadn't saved his life several times already, but still. He's pretty sure Gabriel won't deny him something as simple as honey.
And yeah, speaking of Sam's ribs...]
And for doing such an inelegant job on the sigils.
[Castiel doesn't get artistic about really anything, except for sigils. They're serious business.]
[Which is totally not true, as Castiel wouldn't be holding his brother to any sort of debt even if Gabriel hadn't saved his life several times already, but still. He's pretty sure Gabriel won't deny him something as simple as honey.
And yeah, speaking of Sam's ribs...]
And for doing such an inelegant job on the sigils.
[Castiel doesn't get artistic about really anything, except for sigils. They're serious business.]
Oh. [He looks at his own chest, like he can even see it.] Not so attractive to the angel eye, huh?
They're effective, but there is... Static, it could be described. Pieces that function, but don't fit together in a pleasing way.
[Like a wrong note still makes a sound, but it doesn't mesh with the song.]
[Like a wrong note still makes a sound, but it doesn't mesh with the song.]
[... Well, go figure. If anyone has half-assed angel notes, it's Sam here.]
And here I thought archangels were better than that.
At least they're doing a little good, though. I've noticed it's all been... less heavy.
[The sensation in his lungs, in his bones, that is.]
And here I thought archangels were better than that.
At least they're doing a little good, though. I've noticed it's all been... less heavy.
[The sensation in his lungs, in his bones, that is.]
Edited 2013-10-22 01:42 (UTC)
This is my area of expertise, not Gabriel's, but as I stated the sigils are indeed functioning correctly.
[So good enough, for all intents and purposes. If Castiel had really thought it was subpar, he'd be drawing out a better array and making Gabriel do it again.]
That is good to hear.
[So good enough, for all intents and purposes. If Castiel had really thought it was subpar, he'd be drawing out a better array and making Gabriel do it again.]
That is good to hear.
Yes.
[Deadpan. You're so Rachael Ray.]
Dude... just don't get us in trouble for wiping out the animal life...
[Deadpan. You're so Rachael Ray.]
Dude... just don't get us in trouble for wiping out the animal life...
[He nods. Hey, he's not interested in it being pretty. Even if that's sad for poor ol' Castiel, having to 'hear' the sigils all out of whack like that.]
Hopefully it holds up well enough. Last thing I want to deal with on top of everything else is some stupid hell cough.
Hopefully it holds up well enough. Last thing I want to deal with on top of everything else is some stupid hell cough.
[Ugh none of you understand artistry.]
It should be fine for awhile. Some other individuals here might be able to help as well; they have powers not based in our world, and therefore might be more effective.
It should be fine for awhile. Some other individuals here might be able to help as well; they have powers not based in our world, and therefore might be more effective.
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