Let Him Fly

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Castiel is tormented and alone. For just a moment he lets his guard down and the raw power of his emotions flow out. It was all for Dean Winchester.

Submitted: February 11, 2018

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Submitted: February 11, 2018



The cold, blackened, starless skies above echoed the emptiness within Castiel's very soul as he stared out into the night. The bitter winds curling around his aching body, assaulting the stinging, tear streaked skin of his alabaster cheek.

Images flashed through his mind, ripping and tearing at his being just as the daggers of lightning wrenched the abyss of the ebony skies. Kisses and touches softer than the iridescent petals of the newly sprung tulip. Touches and embraces more fierce and passionate than the last breath of the dying warrior.

Castiel stood now basking in the cold shadows of his own decisions on the jagged cliffs that towered over crashing waves of a violent sea. The thunder growled and cracked in the vicious atmosphere and Castiel sunk to his knees and screamed a desperate and brutal scream of anguish, his true voice surrounded and engulfed the mighty thunder and pounding waves in its ferocity.

As the last echoes of his scream shook the ground he crumpled his broken body in upon itself. The horrors and torments of a thousand betrayals swam in the tears falling fluidly from his ghostly, haunted, azure eyes.

When the skies lit with the shocking brightness of piercing lightning the shadow of Castiel's true form covered the landscape threatening and commanding. Yet as the moments of calm came, he was a shriveled, hollow form of weakness in his human vessel, sobbing harshly into the storm of his own suffering.

The distorting beauty of just letting go overcame the angel for a moment; simply basking in the supposed freedom burning through him like Hell's fires.

The dreamlike images branding his soul danced across his mind, never for a moment allowing him to succumb to peaceful darkness. The crashing of bodies, like the waves beneath him, ruthless and unforgiving. Used until there was simply nothing left to take, broken beyond repair, laying in his own private Hell, he wept.

He wept for the love in his heart as bright and pure as the searing heat of the sun, but, as the sun, it burned and blinded him to all around him but his suffering. The love he felt for the righteous man etched forever within his very grace and he clung to it helplessly. As the world tried to tear it from him in its cruelties he only clung to it in more desperation, until he knew nothing but that all-consuming love.

This, above all other things to have used his meek body and soul, was what was breaking him. The realisation now poured down upon him like the rain pelting his cold, wet skin. He must let him go…

He would give everything in his whole being to his beloved hunter… He would give his very life, soul and grace just to see the light in the rich emeralds and burning hazels of his eyes as he smiled. And now he must let him go… It took so long to understand and now his soul felt the agonising hole as he freed him from his grace.

His heart was retched from his very being and he screamed once more into the calming night around his trembling body. He would never again be a whole creature until the day he so frenziedly longed for, when perhaps the one to whom he belonged… When Dean Winchester would come into his arms. And on that day his soul would rejoice and angels would sing and he would give everything in him over to him readily just to spend every ageless, timeless second in those oh so familiar arms.

For now though, he lay broken and empty, tormented by each fantasized moment of happiness he had often dreamt of. And for now he let go, for now he let him fly…

© Copyright 2018 Kyo. All rights reserved.

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