kore_logs | Would you please forgive me? For while I cannot love myself, I'll use something else.

Who: Castiel and OPEN
Where: Near the bar
When: day 47
What: Gettin' drunk, bein' pissy
Warnings: Other than drinking, probably none, but it may depend on the thread.

Castiel had been worried enough about Lucifer and then Crowley when he'd only had Meg to worry about. Now that Dean was back, he was even more concerned. Dean could hold his own against a lot of powerful creatures, but Lucifer was a whole new level and Crowley wasn't exactly easy to pick off. They needed to plan some sort of defensive strategy.

He'd gone looking for Dean in the obvious location. Before, Dean had spent a good deal of his time in the bar and so Castiel had gone there to find him. Finding the bar empty, he had gone for what he recognized to be one of Dean's favored drinks. Surely, he only had to wait and Dean would show up eventually. It was easier than running all over the town where Crowley might spot him. There were easier ways to locate Dean, but maybe Castiel wanted to nurse a little self-pity. Balthazar and Sam were still missing and Dean was... well, he was better, but he was different and he didn't remember. What if they kept making him forget?

Several hours later, he found himself leaving the bar alone. He wasn't as drunk as he'd been in the past, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't feeling it.

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"Nothing about my love has ever been about duty." Not even his love for Raphael or Michael was wholly about duty. He loved them because he simply did, not because he had to. "My love for them, least of all."

He loved humanity because they were beautiful and because free will was something to be cherished, bad choices and all. He loved individuals because they were strong and good and fought for what they believed to be right, sacrificing everything they had and everything they were for it. Most of all, he loved Dean for these reasons, but he saw many of the same qualities in Raphael, too.

"Then imagine hundreds of years, thousands, more. Of watching them fail and fall and knowing nothing you will do will ever actually help them. Watch them slaughter each other, main each other, hear their voices cry out for you again and again. Watch and see the few who are truly wicked destroy so many of those who are good, see those who are good become evil because they just don't know what else to do - and then Castiel, look at all of them and tell me that you think that is what God wants for them." Raphael didn't. He simply could reconcile something created with such importance that it was worth what God had ordered done to Lucifer, worth the pain it was causing Michael, worth them who had grown and lived at His feet, with the neglect he saw in their care. Couldn't look kindly on something that had so much promise waste so much of it. He was disappointed in humanity, and felt that they, like the Host, had been abandoned by their Creator. And he didn't know what else to do for them.

"Imagine what we can do, brother, for the good ones and even the okay ones if we stop watching and start trying to make their lives better. Imagine how good it can be if we make the suffering worth it." He was almost choking on how emotional this conversation made him feel.

"Because some suffering is important and it is worth it. It makes us who we are. What I've learned through my pain isn't something I'd give up, even if I would do things differently now."

"How do we do that, Castiel? Either we have to help everyone - and in that case, what you love, their free will? They will suppress that nature in attempts to appease us." He sighed. He'd see it happen. "Or else we do nothing more than pick favorites. And allow others to suffer unjustly."

Raphael didn't know how - or if it was possible - for them to nudge humanity back onto track without breaking everything they were, or creating a class of humans loved and favored by the Host and those who were just left to fall.

"I understand pain is necessary, Castiel. Setting broken bone or removing cancerous tissue hurts, but it's what must be done - I understand it far better than most. But this...this is far more than that."

"I don't know." He wouldn't pretend that he had all the answers, because he had very few of them. "I'm still figuring it out, but I wish that you would figure it out with me instead of giving up on them. They're worth it, brother. All of this is worth it."

He didn't know how he could show Raphael what he'd seen, because it was so specific and personal. All he could really do is hope that he could find a human here who can get through to Raphael where Castiel's words couldn't.

There were things that needed fixing, but not everything. You didn't amputate before assessing what else could be done to save a limb.

Raphael closed his eyes, chin lowering to his chest, shoulders dropping just slightly. His jaw was tightly clenched, and the inner corner muscles of his eyes squeezed tightly. "No, it's not. No matter what we manage to do...it's not been worth the cost."

He'd always had Michael to lean on, and Zachariah later. Castiel's pet humans had taken both from him, and for that alone he'll never forgive the Winchesters. He'd hoped once he would be able to push Castiel into that role - perhaps he still did. His younger brother seemed to understand things the other angels didn't, and had felt burdens Michael and he had shielded the others from. Raphael couldn't understand why Castiel was the new favored son, but he was, beyond doubt. And while he felt jealousy over that, it wasn't for him.

But that meant something didn't it? The supposed favored sons ruled.

Maybe that was why he was allowing Castiel to see him now.

Edited 2013-04-08 10:00 (UTC)

Castiel no long believed that he was favored. He believed he was being punished, but that was his own cross to bear.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe it isn't, but it doesn't matter. We can't undo anything." They could try to move forward, though. Castiel wanted that desperately. Neither of them could forgive or forget, but if they could just move on, maybe they could find a middle ground. Maybe that was what their Father had wanted all along.

"For now, we're here, anyway." He paused, trying to find the right words that wouldn't be a surrender. "It's peaceful here, in its way."

Lucifer had been favored, and then without warning brutally cast aside - it was a lesson Raphael had taken to heart. If he knew what the future held for Castiel, he'd see it as the same cruelty of Father's Orders to Michael.

It probably wasn't surprising that Raphael was the protector of children, really. He well knew how children needed it.

"I'm not trying to undo anything Castiel." Just finish what needed to be finished, to allow the Host their rest. Raphael no longer really cared what their Father wanted, or meant. He and Michael had been unable to carry the burden dropped on their shoulders, though they both had tried. Now, Raphael was left to shoulder it alone, and he knew deep down, that he would fail. Michael was the Viceroy of Heaven - if Michael couldn't manage it, Raphael never stood a chance. But he'd dying trying.

"We are here. I'm not sure peaceful is the term I'd use but it is different."

"Compared to some of the places I've been, it is."

He'd take this over Purgatory. He hoped that his inexplicable return to Earth and Dean would be where he wound up when they finally left, but part of him still worried that he was going to wind up back in Purgatory alone. It was what he deserved, but it wasn't what he wanted.

It was at least somewhat comforting to know that Raphael didn't want to undo anything, but he didn't really know what Raphael was thinking. Still, he would take comfort where he could get it here.

"I'm glad, though, that you don't want to fight anymore. There's no reason for any of us to fight here." He was so tired. They all were. Here, at least, maybe they could be on the same side of things for once. He held no illusions that they could come to an agreement where they'd come from, but here none of that mattered, anyway, and if they were getting along, the people that both of them cared about could be safer. He could work through the guilt and the pain for Dean and Meg.

"I can see that." It was a break from home, at least.

"I never wanted to fight Castiel. Not ever." It had occasionally been satisfying, smitting something, and he'd been angry without question when he's smote Castiel all over Chuck's home. But he hadn't wanted it to happen.

"I know." They'd both fought for what they believed it, not just to fight. He knew that. He would never accuse Raphael of believing in it any less than Castiel did. That had been the problem. The strength of their convictions had clashed harder than any blood lust ever could.

He felt far more sober now, but he still wobbled a little on his feet. "Take care of yourself, brother." And then he disappeared.

Would you please forgive me? For while I cannot love myself, I'll use something else.

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