So many things that I want.
So many things to say.
To tell him.
I am an angel, and ancient. Powerful. So far beyond his small mind that he can not conceive of the scope of my power.
His father was a small man with a great purpose: to train his sons. To raise them strong enough to withstand heaven and hell, to stand as the thing my father demanded.
To be the firewall.
But my father.
My father created a thousand worlds. A thousand times a thousand, so many world's and universes that spin on and he has never known.
He doesn't save this world.
He saves them all.
They flash behind my eyes as he hugs me, in a graveyard covered in flowers and ash.
A blue eyed boy in a coffee shop, smiling at the green eyed man playing a guitar.
Two students, laughing between classes, their fingers intertwined.
A furtive looking man- Dean- in an alley, pressed against a wall by me.
Him in a sweater on a boat. Me smiling from the shore, waiting for him to lean, smelly, into me for a kiss.
The two of us in a courtroom, arguing on opposing sides, and later, pressed, desperately, against each other.
A beach with two lonely figures, pressed together. A dog and a man running into a leather wearing blue eyed man smoking a cigarette.
In every universe, I see them.
In every universe, I see us.
We fight. We fall apart and come together and live out a thousand thousands lives. We breath each others air and share each others space and every dream I never dared to dream, is ours.
We fuck. He's horrible and wonderful and broken and strong. I'm bitter and angry and shy and kind. We are everything and nothing and, together, inevitably together, we are whole.
His grip on me tightens and I can feel my tears, pressing into his throat and god, father please don't make me say goodbye.
We love. Madly, recklessly, deeply, cruelly. In every universe, in every world, in every life. I am an angel and I have seen it.
In every world, Dean Winchester is happy. In every life, I am loved.
In every universe, we are together.
He pulls away from me and I swallow my scream. I cannot accept that this is our lot. That we are the only ones that are not happy. That we cannot be given what every other version of us enjoys so freely.
They are there, happy.
And he is gone.
And I am alone.
Father watches me and I ignore him, huddle in the corner near Sam, and pray for a miracle.
Pray that we will not always be the one who is apart.
After buying the happiness of a thousand thousand worlds. Don't we deserve it too?
The world spins toward destruction.
His words echo through me.
I offered to go. If every other version of us gets to live together and happy, I feel it only fair that we get to die together.
The world spins. Every world spins. In every world, there is whispered, love you, Cas. And the familiar refrain, love you, Dean.
In our world. In the world that stands between every good and every evil, the world that hold my Dean, the Righteous Man.
In our world, where we buy the happiness of every one else.
I do not pray to a father who abandoned me. I do not reach for the thousands of universes where I am happy and loved.
I reach for him. I pray to him.
He has always been my touchstone, my anchor, the one thing I weigh every choice and problem and emotion against. He has always been the center of my world. I am very like the thousands of thousands of other Castiels.
I am an angel, of immense power and strength beyond imagining. Fallen for a dream that will never be. And praying to a broken man I love.
Even in this universe.
In every universe.
Alone, I pray, come back to me, Dean.