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There were two things that Castiel knew for certain about his existence. It was his duty to protect humanity and it was his duty to serve God. He had always believed in this. Had always abode by this. He protected humanity and he served God. He will continue to protect humanity and continue to serve... God.
God. The Holy Spirit. He who is highest. What an enigma. See, Castiel knows that God is his father. He knows that his entire reason for existing is to serve this timeless, holy being. This holy being... whom he had never met.
God is to Castiel as the sun is to Earth. He knows he’s there, he knows he’s real, God lights Castiel’s existence, and for the longest time, Castiel swore he could feel the warmth of his love dance across his essence. And yet, he could never look at him. Never see him. Never truly behold this benevolent being.
Castiel doesn’t feel that warmth anymore. He doesn’t know when his fathers touch became foreign. Or if it was ever really there at all. At first he had dismissed it, believing it was because he had inhabited a vessel for the first time in quite a while. But even when he would leave Jimmy on those few occasions, the warmth was still absent.
Two things he was sure of. Protect humanity, serve God. Protect humanity, serve God.
Castiel was only sure of one thing now.
Protect humanity.
Humanity is such a intriguing thing. All of humanity are humans, yet not all humans have humanity. They are all born, they all grow, they learn, they teach, they fail, they succeed, then after it all, they die. Each and everyone of them. No matter how much you accomplish, what you provide, how good or evil you live, you will inevitably die. It truly makes one one wonder what the point of living is if it’s such sort time. Though to a human 90 years is a lifetime, to Castiel it is a blink of an eye. Do they know how inferior their efforts are? Do they ever truly live? What is life if not a glorified painting of death?
Humanity. Castiel wanted to know everything about it. Preserve it. Experience it. Even despite the glory of his father, the warmth of the mother had always called to him. Earths song, sang by the bustle of life, pulling him in and staining his pure white wings with the dirt of longing.
Longing for humanity. Longing for...
Soon Castiel realized that his vessel was not the reason he no longer felt his fathers warmth. He had found a new sun. Only this one, he could see. This one, if he so dared, he could touch.
Dean Winchester.
The Righteous Man.
As if the universe wanted to punish him, it was he who was sent to pull Dean from perdition. It was he who had left his hand print on his shoulder. He who had to guide him. And he, who had for the first time, truly witnessed the light of love. The love Dean had for everything. From his brother, to his car, to the innocent people who walked the street. The love Castiel so wished he could see directed towards him. In any form, he wished to be cared about by someone this loving. By someone who truly looked Castiel in the eyes and always said what he really thought.
Someone who actually saw him. A leader who was willing to lend a hand.
A leader that wasn’t his Holy Father. This desire is of the highest of sins. Castiel could feel it tainting his grace, the pull of the air, begging him to fall. Should he trust the word of his supposed father, the lord whom he had never met, purely on faith, or should he follow the hand of the man who had always shown faith in Castiel himself? Who had given his word and kept it. A man who had claimed to never have been righteous yet holds the holiness of all good deed in his hands, and still extends them to any in need.
It is this question that stirs in his mind, that haunts his existence.
“Do I follow God, or do I follow the man who is everything I used to believe God too be?”