Supernatural Drabble

Asylum

Prompt: Castiel pays you a visit in the asylum.

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Warnings: story of brutal past

Words: 822

He didn't know what he felt. Every time he looked at you - the perfectly clean white outfit you possessed on your body, the vacant look in your eye - he didn't know if he felt pity, guilt, or love. He would look at you and smile, but you wouldn't smile back. You never even noticed his existence in the room. Yet, he would stay with you, hold your cold, pallid hand, and he would sing you a lullaby whenever you started to panic.

Castiel was always with you, and he still considered himself as your guardian angel, though that duty for him has passed onto the Winchesters. Yet, every time he looked at you, he would be reminded of how you landed into this place to begin with...

Twelve Years Ago
You were young, in your teens - maybe eighteen, nineteen - and you were fresh on the hunt for a vampire. But it wasn't just any vampire, it was the vampire that turned your father right in front of your eyes. It was the hardest thing you've ever done - slicing your own father's head clean off - but he would have wanted it that way.

The hunt for the vampire had taken you years upon years until you finally tracked him down in a small town in the middle of Georgia. There, he was starting his own little clan that consisted of both genders, and even children.

Castiel had been watching you, as your guardian, it was his duty, but as he watched you step through the threshold of the small cabin the vampire had decided to set up camp, he knew something was going to go terribly wrong. He could feel it at that moment.

But as you walked in, machetes in both hands, a look of anger clear on your face with a sparkle of vengeance in your eye, he knew that that feeling was completely wrong. And, if that wasn't enough, it was you easily sliding each of your blade across every single head that belonged to the vampires like a hot knife to a stick of butter.

And he watched as you released the machetes, the blood bouncing off the blades as they smacked onto the ground, and took in the sight around you. Your eyes grew wide as they landed onto all the men you had never seen in your life. Your knees grew weak as you looked at the beheaded women you were sure lived a happy life before being abducted and turned. And you collapsed to the ground as you counted the headless children turned into vampires against their will.

You had called the cops on yourself, but you slowly grew insane with every passing day. You only suffered a month of jail time before being transported to this very asylum. And Castiel blamed it all on himself.

Present
Castiel's phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it as he held onto your hand, your chest rising slowly and falling calmly as your eyes remained glued on the ceiling, the same exact position you had been in ever since your arrival at the asylum. He began wondering what you were thinking, itching the surface of your brain to see what was on your mind, but he stopped himself. He didn't want to see what made you insane.

When his phone stopped vibrating, it soon vibrated again and, with a sigh, he released your hand and pulled out his phone from his trench coat. "Hello?" he answered, his eyes still absorbing you.

"Cas, we need you," Dean said from the other end. "We're still looking for Crowley and we think we're closing in, but we're-" He cleared his throat. "Just... come, alright?"

His eyes left yours and he stood. "Okay," Castiel said. "I'll be right there."

"Thanks, buddy," Dean said and Castiel could hear the smile. They hung up at the same time.

Castiel turned back to you, a smile crinkling his cheeks. He had tried to heal you of your insanity, but nothing could make you forget what you had done. It was permanently tattooed in your brain, etched in the back of your eyelids.

He slowly walked back over to you, pushing away the plastic chair without making a sound, and ran a hand gently over the top of your head, your eyes closing at his touch. He placed a careful kiss on your forehead and whispered, "I'm always with you, Y/N." And then, in a blink of an eye, he was gone.

You sat up as if being electrocuted, a sharp breath escaping your throat as a gasp, and you looked around in confusion. Taking a deep breath, you swung your feet over your bed, the bottoms of your bare feet meeting with the cold floor, but you didn't care.

Before you could stand up, a woman in a white uniform walked into the room, a tray of food in her hands, and she looked at you, dropping the tray to the ground. She stared at you in shock.

"Where am I?" you whispered.