Supernatural Imagines

Castiel x Reader//Songbird

Song of Choice: Crosses- José González

Imagine: running away to keep Castiel safe.

Requested by @CertifiedDestielCrap

A little note sat idly on a mahogany dresser. Your mahogany dresser. Or, at least your old one. It was empty now, unburdened by the sin of clothes that smell like him and metal. Even now, if you just raise the cloth to your nose, you can smell it all.

The blood, his warm, oceanic scent. Castiel, an angel who deserves more than what he got. You could feel the tears on your cheeks as you let go of your shirt, it dropping back down onto your collarbone. He got this shirt for you when he and the Winchesters were on a hunt.

"You said you liked apples," he said. You had laughed and hugged the shirt close, closing your eyes.

"It smells like apples." He just nodded, and all was forgiven from the night before.

He wouldn't forgive you now. Too much had been ruined by your hands; everyone would agree. It was your fault. He may be worried in the beginning, but once he reads the note, all he will feel is anger and wrath. You messed up. Big time messed up.

Even now, as your phone rang and rang a tuneful song, you knew. On the other end would be a screaming voice, a blaming voice that would get under your skin. And maybe you deserved it. Maybe you deserved all that came and all that is still coming for you. What you did was awful, and now you were paying the price.

Your sins always catch up to you. Even if you hide in the dark for years, eating nothing but the soggy sewer air filling your lungs with poison, it won't be fooled. Because the simplest smells may be masked, but they are still there in the end. If it coats your skin, it coats you forever.

You wanted to close your eyes, and let the car drive itself. But, your piece of junk didn't have a mind of its own. You were controlling it, like you were controlling what was happening now. You turned off your phone and turned up the radio, drowning out your thoughts with soothing sounds. Without it, you would feel empty; broken, alone.

Which you were. All of it. There's no fixing the thread that came undone. When the bird sings, it sings loud. In this case, you were the bird.

The radio began to produce static. However, you knew it wasn't because of a lost signal. It was him. It was always him.

"Y/N, I read your note." His voice came through the speaker like a melody made of milk and lilacs, tripping your thoughts into believing what was done could be fixed. He could always do that. "Please, come home. There's no need to run." You pulled over, knowing that your eyes would inevitably close and your mind would become a ruin. His words were filled with sadness, and guilt. "There's no need to run. We can help you."

"There is no help for me, Castiel." You flipped the radio off, took a deep, soul-wrenching breath, and then drove off. If you came back, he would be in danger. If you came back, everything would come crawling back with you. But, the angel couldn't take no for an answer.

He appeared passenger side with fluttering wings that he gave you the ability to see. If an angel was in love and the person loved them back, the angel could offer them their wings. So, that's what he did. It was a pact; a bind. You looked at the wings instead of his face as you, once again, pulled over. A wreck wasn't needed, and you knew you would get into one with him there.

"What, Cas?" Your voice was breathy and hoarse from the stray tears. There was no fixing it, and he knew. He knew you were in pain.

"Let me help you." His tone was pleading, but the shake of your head was hopelessness. Even the loudest bird has moments of silence. "Please. We got Sam's soul back; we can get yours back too."

"No, we can't. We can't. I sold it to protect you, Cas, from the things in my closet. The things following me out of the dark. There are monsters even the Winchesters don't know about, and they're all in my head." He was quiet, contemplating your words with a vast acceptance.

"We can get your soul back. We can make a deal or something! Dean will come up with something; so will Sam. They know about this stuff. They can help fix it." You turned to him for the first time since he arrived, eyes meeting the bluest blues you could ever see.

"There is no fixing, Cas. What's done is done. Now you're safe, and now I'm content. All I care for is you. I needed to do this or else you would get in harm's way. Don't you understand?"

"No, I don't." He sighed and reached out a loving, gentle hand. Closed it around yours, breathtaking moments relieving you, relinquishing you to safety. What could be thought of as safety.

"Unless you can get rid of these monsters, there is no saving me. There's just you." Leaning forward, lips connecting lips, hands intertwined with hair and hands. A sweet, blissful moment that was the end and both of you knew it. There was no saving you. What was done, is done. "Goodbye, Castiel."

"Goodbye, Y/N."

A bird with clipped wings can sing, but does it have the effort to?
-

I'm posting this early because I have my first speech meet tomorrow! I am soooooo not ready but I've decided to perform anyways. Fun!!!!!!!!!!

(ps: for all you harry potter fans, I have a cool thing in the works for my other imagines book. I have no idea when I'll finish it though as it will be looooooooooong)

stay thirsty my memes,
noelle