The Empty Place

Castiel couldn’t remember what it was like to fly. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually gotten to stretch his wings to their full span. He hadn’t gotten to do either of these things since ascending and pulling Dean from Hell, and even then his main purpose was merely to fly downwards. He hadn’t flown - just flown - since he was young. The sensation was gone from his memory - an unfortunate occurrence, considering the fact that angels tended to think very highly of themselves because of their luscious wings. They were an angel’s main feature, and as Dean had commented a few weeks ago, they were downright badass. They distinguished one angel from another, displayed rank. But they were never just for show. Angels needed to fly, like fish needed to swim and humans needed to breathe oxygen.
But Castiel hadn't flown in years, and it was taking its toll. So, one day, with no warning and absolutely no mention to Dean or anyone else, he set out on his own to do it.
There was only one place he knew of that would be safe for him to fly. Despite his family’s gradual loss of interest in him, Castiel would most likely not be welcome back in Heaven. It was too crowded there anyways, with other angels and archangels, heralds and cherubs, flocking the skies, traversing the shining cloudbanks. No, Heaven was no good.
But there was one spot that no angel ever cared to go to - an endless expanse of sky, just above the clouds, and just beneath where Heaven was situated. The sun was always poking over the flat layer of clouds, creating a golden light that made the entire place shine. Angels passed through it so briefly on their way to Earth that one there would only see a flicker of light and hear a swipe of feathers before all was silent and clear again and the travelling angel had passed through. No one cared much for it, and so it was nameless. Secretly, when he was many millennia younger, Cas had dubbed it “The Empty Place.”
So that was where he went. And in a millisecond he was there, having teleported straight from Sam and Dean’s motel room, and he was falling towards the blanket of clouds that made a sort of floor for the Empty Place.
Terror shot through Castiel’s veins as he plummeted, still in his mortal body, towards the massive Cumuli beneath him. Desperately, he tensed, and suddenly his gigantic black wings, gleaming in the sunlight, shot out of his shoulder blades and he glided upwards in a massive U shape, having barely touched the clouds and pulling behind him a thin trail of vapor. Castiel sighed with relief, and, somewhat awkwardly, climbed up into the sky with a few short flaps of his massive wings.
He hung there in the sky, flapping his wings to stay aloft - though it didn’t take much effort - and just taking a moment to look around, to breathe. Castiel had forgotten how much cleaner, more abundant, the air was up here.
Castiel measured his situation. He was in a human’s body, meaning flying would be a bit odder than he’d been used to. Angels had streamlined bodies that fit their wings, unlike humans - Jimmy Novak’s body was so tiny in contrast to his wings that they were almost difficult to control. So if he were to dive at an angle, he could easily lose balance, get knocked off course by an oncoming draft of wind-
“Oh, fuck it,” Castiel said quietly to himself, inwardly proud that he’d finally found a use for one of Dean’s favorite words. And without another second of hesitation, Castiel folded his wings, tucked them in as close as he could to his body, and let himself freefall again, this time, void of all fear. The air howled in his ears until they ached, and as the clouds began to blur closer and closer, he freed one wing from its tight, invisible binding, and let it throw him into a bullet-fast tailspin. Then Castiel opened the other wing, spread it and its counterpart to their full lengths, and let his primary feathers - the long, thin, sharp ones on the very tip of the wing - drag in the vaporous clouds just underneath him. Glittering miniscule crystals of ice and water were thrown up in cyan tornadoes behind him, and everything seemed to move in slow motion.
Then Castiel climbed again, this time merely pumping his wings behind him to gain speed, and riding a gentle upward current of air into the lavender sky of the Empty Place. High above the cloud barrier again, Castiel banked his wings, using them as brakes, to freeze in midair. Then he launched himself outwards, pulling his wings in to make himself into a bullet, and shoot down, glide upwards, in slopes of various heights.
For hours, countless hours, Castiel just flew. He’d fall again, spin, loop in gigantic rings, let his wings hang high above him with his body tucked underneath, and sometimes he’d straighten them out, keep them below him, twist statically like a paper airplane. Finally, when Castiel had lost comprehension of time, space, responsibility - he ascended silently, flying as high as he possibly could. And there, flapping his wings only slightly, just enough to keep him afloat, Castiel sighed and shut his eyes, never having been more exhausted in recent memory. Briefly the angel wondered what it would be like if he never went back; flew forever, a tiny black speck in an endless kingdom of rising and setting sunlight.
The sky beyond was dusty purple, dark blue directly above, pink and orange where the sun met the clouds. Stars, pinpricks of white, hung above Castiel, and just beyond those, the moon, larger than could ever be seen on Earth. It was so peaceful, tranquil, beautiful. Silent. No pestering humans to attend to, no familial responsibilities to the Winchester boys. Castiel could stay here, if he wanted. Dean and Sam would get along fine without him.
Castiel turned over onto his back, creating a raft out of his folded black wings, and rode a tiny breeze across the empty sky. He looked up at the stars. He thought about Heaven. In Heaven, you could see the stars whenever you wanted. On Earth, it was harder to see them, and sometimes you couldn’t see them at all. Here in the Empty Place, a limbo between the two worlds, you were stuck in an endless twilight… just a few stars. Never more than necessary. The place was imperfect, and yet, all too perfect - it had the majesty of Heaven, as well as the loneliness of it. It had the humility of Earth, but also the physics of it. To fly forever would be tiring, and gravity would always be there. There would never be a place to just rest, to call your home. Heaven and Earth were above the Empty Place in that sense. In fact, that was sort of the way Sam and Dean lived. Flying forever.
Castiel thought of the WInchester brothers. Dean, with his constant chiding of Castiel, and Sam, with his penchant for ignoring the emotions of those closest to him, looking only to serve the very greatest good.
Dean was kind, though. He had a powerful spirit and an even bigger heart, and Castiel had seen it, maybe even more so than Dean intended to occur. And Sam - Sam was brave, wise, and morally driven. He saw the world in its entirety, forgetting his own feelings and looking out for humanity as a whole.
Despite Sam’s mask of severity, he could become grounded in an instant. He was sympathetic of Castiel, maybe because neither of them quite fit in where they were supposed to. Sam was kind to the angel, and his love for his brother was more powerful than any angelic bond Castiel had ever known.
Dean could be brought out of his shell with a little help. Then he’d talk for hours about just one thing, usually one thing that Castiel never understood. He’d even given Castiel a pet name, which was really just Castiel, minus the last four letters. He called Sam Sammy. Dean didn’t like to show it, but he got attached to people. He didn’t like to be alone.
And at that moment, Castiel realized that he didn’t, either.
The stars had changed, and the moon and sun were far behind Castiel. He wasn’t sure how long he’d lain here, drifting across the open, lonely, sky.
Castiel was tired. He knew he didn’t need to, but he wanted to sleep. He wanted to see Dean and Sam again. He wanted them to greet him, wanted Dean to bristle and chastise him for disappearing, wanted him to worry in the way that Castiel found terribly endearing. He wanted Sam to shake off his disappearance completely, just smile and say hello, in the way that was so charmingly relaxed.
Castiel felt a pang in his chest. He wanted to go home, where his humans were. He didn’t belong in a world where he was the ruler, nor a world where he was expected to conform completely. Castiel was a human, and an angel, and he was the first of his kind. He hadn’t quite fallen, hadn’t quite risen to his Heavenly perch again. Castiel loved Earth, and he loved the family he had on Earth. He had learned that all today, here in this empty expanse of sky and cloud.
And so Castiel let himself fall, letting his wings spread out behind him, and this time, he finally let himself hit the clouds. Just as he did, he teleported, and his beautiful wings shot back into his shoulder blades. And there he was, in Sam and Dean’s motel room, late at night. They were there too, looking surprised at the angel’s sudden appearance. As expected, Dean was displeased, and Sam could’ve cared less.
“Hey, Cas,” Sam said, turning away from his book briefly to smile at Castiel.
“Where the hell have you been all day?” Dean snapped. “You were here this morning. Why’d you suddenly up and disappear on us?”
Castiel just collapsed onto a chair, keeping expressionless, but sighing with what Dean could’ve sworn was relief.
“I was flying,” Castiel said quietly, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair, and in turn resting his cheek on his hand.
“You were... flying?” Dean echoed, sounding more curious now than frustrated, though there was still some annoyance in his voice.
Castiel nodded, letting a tiny smile drift onto his face as his eyes shut slowly.
“Yes,” he muttered, just before drifting off to sleep, “But I’m home now.”