18smiths
Castiel
In the middle of the road, in the dark of night and the downpour of cold, icy rain, I (Castiel) trudged onward. There was no place left for me to go. No where for my hungry, tired body to rest. I wrapped my arms tightly around my body, shivering into my drenched coat. I had no money left for a meal or a payphone. I had no idea whether or not Dean and Sam could find me. But I needed shelter. I had gotten very cold very quickly and the rain only pressed my need for someplace warm to sleep.
I'd lost everything. The angels had fallen and I was to blame for it. To make matters worse, Metatron had used my grace for his spell to cast them down. I wasn't merely fallen. I was human. I would give nearly anything for my friends to find me and take me in, but on a dark road in the middle of no where at the dead of night, my chances were slim. I should hope freezing to death doesn't force my hand to steal from another in need. Then again, I never would.
Alone and growing ill, I carried on along my asphalt path.
Until I saw two familiar headlights. Those of a 1967 Cheverolet Impala.
I'd lost everything. The angels had fallen and I was to blame for it. To make matters worse, Metatron had used my grace for his spell to cast them down. I wasn't merely fallen. I was human. I would give nearly anything for my friends to find me and take me in, but on a dark road in the middle of no where at the dead of night, my chances were slim. I should hope freezing to death doesn't force my hand to steal from another in need. Then again, I never would.
Alone and growing ill, I carried on along my asphalt path.
Until I saw two familiar headlights. Those of a 1967 Cheverolet Impala.
