[ Cas was certain that he'd already said too much. Admitting that he was in conflict against Heaven's plans was commitment that he intended to get in her way as well, whether or not he knew what those plans were. The evidence was clear that whatever Ruby was doing it wasn't in Heaven's rulebook to actively stop it. Cas had known that Sam was changing, after all, but his vision had been blocked in regard to what that meant, until it was too late.
Heaven's plans for Sam could not be anything good. Their plans for Dean weren't either, and, in fact, had never been. Castiel knew now, after all, that he had been sent to save him when it was already too late, and Heaven knew it. Not Cas, of course, who had hoped, who had thought he was doing the right thing. No. Dean had broken in Hell because it was Heaven's plan that he broke as much as Hell's. How could that be divine? How could that be what Cas represented?
He shuddered as she stroked him again, and the human vulnerability gripping him gave an earnest little twitch, hips trying to lift toward her touch. She was already pulling away, and he was left to watch her, hungry for her touch, as she began to strip out of her clothes. Surprisingly, that actually did something for him. His body responded to the nudity of hers in what was the most predictable way, at this point, with another moan of desire, and then a twitch of his chin that barely represented his shattering defiance. ]
Do I have to answer that?
[ Then she was close again, and he stopped being able to fight it, groaning and rolling his face away from hers. Not that it helped. Her breasts pressed against him, and her fingers slid into his wings, sending more of those fresh, overwhelming sensations whipsnapping through him. What was the point in making them so delicate, so arousing? Just another of his Father's mistaken designs. His angels were not meant to feel pleasure like this.
His mind was dulled again by the sensation, and what could he do about it? She knew he was lying--or rather, not telling the whole truth. ]
no subject
Heaven's plans for Sam could not be anything good. Their plans for Dean weren't either, and, in fact, had never been. Castiel knew now, after all, that he had been sent to save him when it was already too late, and Heaven knew it. Not Cas, of course, who had hoped, who had thought he was doing the right thing. No. Dean had broken in Hell because it was Heaven's plan that he broke as much as Hell's. How could that be divine? How could that be what Cas represented?
He shuddered as she stroked him again, and the human vulnerability gripping him gave an earnest little twitch, hips trying to lift toward her touch. She was already pulling away, and he was left to watch her, hungry for her touch, as she began to strip out of her clothes. Surprisingly, that actually did something for him. His body responded to the nudity of hers in what was the most predictable way, at this point, with another moan of desire, and then a twitch of his chin that barely represented his shattering defiance. ]
Do I have to answer that?
[ Then she was close again, and he stopped being able to fight it, groaning and rolling his face away from hers. Not that it helped. Her breasts pressed against him, and her fingers slid into his wings, sending more of those fresh, overwhelming sensations whipsnapping through him. What was the point in making them so delicate, so arousing? Just another of his Father's mistaken designs. His angels were not meant to feel pleasure like this.
His mind was dulled again by the sensation, and what could he do about it? She knew he was lying--or rather, not telling the whole truth. ]
Sam. I know about Sam.