Freedom of Fate ~ Castielxreader

17- I Think This Is Goodbye

You spent the week making preparations to run away, planning your route, filling up a few extra cans of gas, casually leaving a shirt or jacket in your trunk, and drafting your goodbye notes which was maybe the most difficult, though you decided early on you couldn't say your farewells in person. They'd probably cuff you to a radiator until you promised to stay and maybe you even would. What had started off as an intrusive thought had manifested into a resolution, you knew you had to leave and though you had enough reasons, how could you explain them in a note without sounding like you actually wanted to leave. You didn't want to, but you just had to. You were too codependent, you were losing your sanity, you were fixed to them like a tumour and you had to cut yourself out to save them. Quitting the hunt wasn't an option, neither was hunting alone if you still had ties to the boys, as the vamp ambush clearly demonstrated. So sure, leaving was the right thing to do in your head, it was time to go your own way and stand on your own two feet, but the engulfing sense of dread every time you acted with that intention made you feel sick; the final walk to the gallows, as tedious and drawn-out as it was imminent and inescapable. But Castiel. For every reason you had to leave, he was a thousand reasons for you to stay. You hadn't said you loved him yet, but it was the irrefutable truth that you did, and through his words and actions you knew he reciprocated. You fantasised about running away with him like he promised, a selfish dream that you had to bury. According to angel radio, the other angels had learned of your illicit affair, now both their hatred for Castiel and the threat of your Nephilim spawn drove them to hunting you, and you'd fought off one onslaught already. Only by leaving him behind would he be safe, you could trust the brothers to look out for him in your stead, and that sacrifice was the purest act of love you could proclaim. 

You sit in your room quietly with these thoughts, stitching up the tear in Cas' trench coat left there by another angel's blade. He could barely heal all three of you and himself, so there were still red marks and gashes on his chest and a bruise around his eye, shut lightly as he slumbered. He's sleeping, and angels shouldn't need to, yet he looked so tranquil even if it is unnatural behaviour. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, his eyes fluttered as if he was about to wake up but he just shifted a little and settled back down. You finished up the repairs, sure that he would sleep for a good while longer so you slipped out of the room. The Winchesters were following a lead on Amara and the bunker was deathly still, with Cas's unimposing presence it felt like you were alone in this massive building. Books were strewn across the library, some in stacks, some on the floor and others opened up and placed face down; all discarded as they had no knowledge on the Darkness- God's fucking sister. You decided to re-catalogue them all, so that in the future they could easily find a reference or piece of lore when they hunted, since you wouldn't be around to do it for them. You would leave tonight, you decided.

As you slipped the final tome into its designated space on the shelf Castiel came in, shirtless and in his navy bathrobe. He trudged over you to and kissed you passionately; he always kissed you like it would be his last kiss, not like he just woke up and was just saying good morning. 

'You look better,' you praised him with a ruffle of his already messy bed hair. He smiled sluggishly, though his eyes were absent and they wandered across the room as he slumped down in a chair.

'You tidied up,' he commented and you nodded, sitting in a chair next to him. You reached out to touch one of the more apparent scars on his chest

'I wish I could heal you,' you sighed.

'You do,' he took your hand and kissed it, 'in ways I can't,' he placed your hand on his cheek and you ran your thumb over his stubble. He closed his eyes contently. You suggested he should maybe go back to sleep, but he insisted he was okay. 'Do you want to get breakfast?' and you nodded.