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The Doctor always knew he would meet him, this angel in a tan trench coat, icy blue eyes so curious and old. As old as his own.
From the moment he had stared into the swirling time vortex, felt the universe, time and space, calling to him. Pulling on his two hearts, dragging his soul into the cosmoses around him, calling him to endless adventure. Him and his little blue box.
He had always known it, a gut feeling in him, screaming out that it would happen, it would always happen. Maybe that’s why when a man in a ripped up trench coat crashed his way through the TARDIS, right into his ships console he wasn’t all that surprised, simply smiled in a soft way.
Meeting an Angel -celestial wave of intent - had always been written in the books, forever printed into the fabric of the universe. But the rest was all up for grabs as he had soon learned.
The Time Lord’s moment of nostalgia was interrupted by his bedroom door opening and a figure appearing in the doorway.
“Castiel?” The Doctor asked, already knowing what it was.
Often, Castiel would come into his bedroom or find him in the console room when he had been alone for a substantial amount of time, usually because Castiel being left with his thoughts led to memories of the war between Heaven and Hell, thoughts of Dean and Sam Winchester and everyone who had ever helped him.
The angel climbed onto the Doctor’s bed, settling down beside him with his head on the Time Lord’s chest. “Sing.” Was the only thing Castiel said, his voice quiet and rough.
The Doctor didn’t even hesitate as words started flowing from his mouth, it was natural almost as he had sung these words a thousand times over.
Have a seat upon this branch of mine,
It’s been a while honey but I think I feel fine,
I see the question mark atop your spine,
I’ve got a ladder honey wont you let me climb.
Castiel’s eyes closed in a mockery of a human sleeping as his breathing evened out and he tried to relax into the Doctor.
Tell me all about your foreign wars,
And all about the photographs that line your drawers,
‘Cause I know a lot about closing doors,
but not enough about what opens up yours.
The Time Lord was silent as Castiel’s voice rang out in the soft silence, he really did have the voice of an angel, as cliched as that was to think. He watched the perfect bow of the angels lips as he formed the words, hitting all the right notes as though he was born to sing softly in darkened spaces.
Oh my my,
Oh my stars,
Everything you see is ours,
Or it could be if you would try,
I wish you would,
I wish you might,
Oh, oh,
If everything you’ve said to me has been true,
Then all my stars are leading me to you,
Ooh, ooh, ooh.
As the Doctor ended the chorus of the song he lifted a hand up to weave into Castiel’s hair. His fingers twisting through the strands of midnight hair. He felt Castiel smile into his chest, humming the tune of the song before singing the next verse.
Have a seat upon this branch of mine,
It’s been a while honey wont you take your time,
And I see the question mark atop your spine,
I’ve got a ladder honey wont you let me climb.
The Doctor couldn’t help himself, leaning his head down to kiss the angels forehead. He felt Castiel’s hand move over to rest on his left hip, squeezing over the tweed material of his jacket.
As the last verse rang out from both their lips Castiel finally managed to relax, his whole vessel melting into his Doctor. Forgetting about the past war, the people who died and the people who hurt him, the angels out to kill him, he forgot the universe. Nothing but him and the Doctor in the TARDIS existed, safe and peaceful.
The Doctor sometimes forgets how old Castiel is, with his baby face and innocent personality its so easy to forget that he has been around long before himself. Sometimes when he stares into the angels electric blue eyes, so bright with life and adventure, he sees the deep set sadness. The pain of being so tired, so tired of being around, living through Millenia.
And it all swirls in his eyes, reminding the Doctor of the cosmoses around him, swirling brighter and older each day. The Time Lord could perhaps compare his angels eyes to constellations, older than time and so intricately beautiful.
Oh my my,
Oh my stars,
Everything you see is ours,
Or it could be if you would try,
I wish you would,
I wish you might,
Oh, oh,
If everything you have said to me has been true,
Then all my stars are leading me to you,
Ooh, ooh, ooh,
Oh my my,
Oh my stars.