thursdays_angel | (no subject)

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Castiel goes as far as the room next door. Still familiar--with its blue striped wallpaper and odd collection of objects and baseball cap on the closet door--in spite of, what feels to Castiel, like a long absence.

He feels something warm and wet slide down onto his lip and wipes at it, eying the smear of blood on his hand with a degree of consternation. Due to proximity, more of Dean's blows had landed than hadn't.

But no matter.

Castiel collects himself and closes his eyes.

"Michael. I am in need of your help."

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"Castiel."

Michael is slouched in the room's only chair, hands folded across her midsection.

Her T-shirt may be a little too much to the point, but such are the hazards of dealing with her.

"I may need a few more details than that in order to best aid you."

Nothing about her expression suggests that she is amused.

Castiel straightens his shoulders, settling in to what for an angel approximates 'parade rest.'

The stance is somewhat at odds with his ruffled appearance.

"It is Dean," he says, businesslike and without preamble.

There is little room for small talk in the chain of command. Not at times like this.

"He is not, as yet, showing any signs of recovery."

"And.......I do not know what to do."

He looks a bit ashamed of this fact.

"The human mind is resilient," Michael says, watching Castiel steadily.

"But they are also temporal creatures. All their healing takes time."

She lets out a breath, quick and soft.

"What have you tried thus far?"

"I waited for him to awaken. And then I tried to speak to him."

The conversation had been extremely short lived.

"He vacillated between near catatonia and blind violence."

The marks of which Castiel currently bears.

"I fear that it may take more than time to return him to himself. But I do not know what that might be."

And while Milliways gives them time, they do not have all the time in the Universe.

Michael huffs out another breath, reaching up to tuck her hair out of her eyes.

The silence has weight.

"He has only lately been in Hell, Castiel. The horrors we might see there are as nothing compared to what they are for those who have cause to fear them -- tormented and tormentor alike. Such is their punishment."

At least in every such Hell Michael has been to. There are a few.

"Perhaps he has forgotten what surcease is."

The look Castiel gives her is one of thinly disguised helplessness.

"How do I make him remember?"

Doubts have begun to niggle in the back of his mind. Perhaps he was remiss in choosing to bring Dean here. Perhaps he would have fared better if he had been returned directly to Earth. Perhaps his superiors had been correct in their orders.

"You don't," Michael says gently.

"I don't think it's something you've ever needed to know."

It must be Castiel's own recent sojourn in Hell that causes impatience to slip in Michael's presence.

Such a think would, ordinarily, be unthinkable.

"Then what can I do?"

Castiel abhors uncertainty.

"I was to bring him out of Hell. And return him to Earth to allow him to complete his work. Those are my orders, put forth by God."

"I cannot fail."

God.

Or Dean Winchester.

Michael leans forward, insouciance falling away.

"Remind him of what it is to be human. And why that is a desirable state of affairs."

She smiles, thin-lipped and wry.

"Show him that he is not alone. Only you may not be the best qualified to do that. Your doubts, such as they are, are not the same as might be expected of a man brought so low. It is not an academic problem, distance and curiosity are likely to avail you naught."

Castiel reins himself back in, a little appalled at airing such emotion.

He nods in agreement. Though he is not quite sure how Michael's advice might be carried out, or how to get past the obstacles currently standing in the way.

"I fear little will be possible," he says, "until he is in a state to listen."

"Without lashing out," he adds.

"Time and love cure many ills. And faith, too."

Michael's smile goes crooked.

"Though the practical application of the right experience will do about as much good as a prayer. They aren't wrong when they say God helps those that help themselves. Or those who find someone capable of such action."

She spreads her hands.

"Give him time. If he is to be the man he was, you may be better served to let him find his own way back. For if he can't -- "

"If he cannot find his own way back, he will still be as good as lost."

Castiel's shoulders drop slightly.

"Yes. Of course, you are right."

As if it was even a question. This is Michael, after all.

"I should not leave him alone too long. I do not know if he was aware of my presence, but I fear that he may be a danger to himself if he awakes in a similar state."

"Mmm."

Michael does not disagree with this assessment.

And yet --

"He may be better served were you to keep him unaware of your presence. Pride and shame are potent forces, but I think they will only drive him further from what he was, instead of nearer."

Humans are not always made for audience participation.

For one.

Castiel turns that over in his mind.

"He did not take my being there well. Either in Hell or here," he admits.

Castiel cannot speak to Dean's reasons. He's not sure even Dean could articulate his reasons. But facts are facts.

"But I cannot watch him unseen. Not here. And I do feel that he needs....monitoring."

Just in case.

"There are none who might see me did I wish to remain unobserved. If you would trust me to watch and wait."

The offer is sincerely meant -- and Michael has served this function before, if not for a Winchester.

"As for the rest -- there will be time for that, too."

God will provide. Even if indirectly.

Castiel blinks in surprise. Though not necessarily at the offer.

"Of course I would trust you."

This is Michael.

"If you are willing, it would ease my mind," he admits.

"At least until he has regained some of his footing."

What Castiel will do with himself in the meantime, he is not sure. He certainly can't leave Milliways -- not without taking with him the man he was charged with bringing back.

But he is sure there will be something. And at least at first it will involve not straying far from Dean's room.

"It is no hardship for me," Michael assures him.

And, for someone who is not limited to existence in one place and time, this is entirely true.

"And you, in the meantime, might wish to revisit how humanity reassures itself of its existence. And what the concept of respite means. God's children do not survive well in a vacuum, literal or metaphorical."

She could mention Brownian motions of society, too, but refrains.

For now.

Castiel nods.

"Yes."

I has been in Milliways that Castiel has gained an abundance of practical knowledge of human matters.

Perhaps reconnecting with old friends here will give him some perspective.

"I will not go far," he tells Michael. "You will call me? If you deem it necessary for me to be present?"

At the end of the day, Dean is his responsibility.

"I will," Michael says, expression solemn and sharp.

"You need have no fear on that score."

In point of fact, Michael is already carrying out her new duties.

Not that there is anyone -- alive or dead -- who would be able to tell.

That is, after all, the point.

"Thank you."

Castiel looks truly relaxed for the first time since he walked through the door of Milliways, Dean in tow.

"I am grateful. For everything."

"You are welcome," Michael says. "As ever. Do not forget that."

And then she's gone.

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