Chapter Text
The tendrils of the winter's snow clung to the church roof, staining the dark church tiles in white slush. It had been a colder season, and despite the flowers of spring attempting to flourish, the crisp winds and continuous sleet had killed any blooms, leaving a grey February.
Castiel stood before the building, tilting his head to watch the dew drip before him, splatting his polished shoes. His eyes matched the sky above, icy and piercing in the greys around him.
He had been standing there for quite some time, observing but not moving. No one disturbed his silence, despite the weird presence he gave the town.
The town whispered about the Priest, Father Novak, and his practices—the flap of his trenchcoat over his robes as he walked and the odd things he said. The locals presumed that it was how he was raised and that wherever he had moved from ten years ago was deeply religious and spiritual. The newcomers didn’t understand his unnerving stares like he was reading their souls. He was not unpopular as such; he had a decent crowd on Sundays, but he was no locally accepted man.
For Castiel, that never bothered him. He was happy to watch the small details of the town from his perspective. He enjoyed the Mass that he held each week, and often he was praised by the older couples that attended for his engagement, occasionally spotting younger followers amongst his pews. They usually sat in the back, sometimes regulars, sometimes people visiting. He liked those people the most. They often didn’t know his status in the town, and just came to hear his words.
Castiel loved the church, in particular the one he now served in. It was beautiful inside, with a large stained glass of Jesus in the very back, which shone blue and red in the late winter evenings. The colours danced across the browns and whites of the floors and walls, often mixing with the other glass. He would stand under each of the Angels and trace their faces noting the slightly different shades that created them.
Micheal was on the first right of the church entrance, and it was Castiel’s favourite. The archangel had stunning golden wings that stretched up high above the figure, with the angel holding his sword high above him. The next on the left was Gaberiel, with his face slightly turned away mischievously behind a dark brown wing. The second right was Raphael and Azarael was on the second left. Each one shone brightly in the church, and Castiel often heard people commenting on their beauty.
His other favourite part of the church was the organ, which was on a second-floor access at the entrance. People didn’t see it until they turned around and looked up. It was unfortunate that not many people seemed to know how to play the instrument, although he was always pleased when someone asked if they could.
The church would fill with the swaying sounds of music, often hymns but occasionally a modern song that Castiel didn’t recognise. It filled the building with a warmth that it often lacked, and Castiel was sad when it would go away for months at a time.
Despite his lonely start to the Thursday, the church had been quite busy. He had done two confessions and was asked to do three baptisms in the following weeks. He had seen a fair amount of people coming in to pray, some kneeling on the cold marble and others lowering their heads before lifting them to the ceiling. He often took extra notice of the people coming in by themselves, observing their motions. He sometimes heard their whispers, other times watched the tears slip down their pale faces. It was no different today, as he observed quietly from his corner. He retreated to the small room beside the altar to eat his lunch. Upon exiting, there was only one left in the church. A young man observing the angels. Castiel watched the unusually tall man standing there with his hands deep in his jeans, hazel eyes sweeping over the figure of Azael. Castiel left the man to his own thoughts and prepared his prayers and talk for Sunday, reading through the Bible to find the particular line he was thinking of.
When he looked up again, the man stood in front of the Michael glass, brow scrunching. He twisted his hands in his pockets, and despite Castiel’s better judgement, he stood up and walked over. He rarely interacted with anyone, let alone newcomers unless they approached him first. He wasn’t sure why he approached but he quietly slipped in beside the man.
“That is my favourite one,” Castiel murmurs. The man jumps slightly, taking a quick look at the priest before attaching his gaze back to the angel.
“It’s kinda terrifying. I don’t see a lot of angels at church, let alone four archangels,” the man comments, eyes continuing to rake over. They stand in silence, the man’s eyes darting across the shapes.
“Is something troubling you?” Castiel asks, face still facing the glass. The man shifted and cleared his throat.
“Ah, no, well, sort of,” he looks back at the priest, “My name is Sam, I’m not really from around here.”
Castiel nodded and smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile. One of his regulars once told him that he looked weird when he fake-smiled, that he had been told, in her words, ‘that someone had killed your cat and you enjoyed it. Or that you were trying a bad pick-up line at a pub.’ He had told Meg several times that he quite liked his cat Alfie and had never been to the pub, but she had brushed him off with her usual teenage flair.
“And what brings you to this church on this fine day Sam?” It was sort of a lie, as it was still miserably cold outside but the sun had finally broken through the winter solstice and Castiel thought that was somewhat better.
Sam stood still for a moment before speaking.
“I have an unusual issue, Father..?”
“Novak, Father Novak.”
Sam nodded. He closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. Castiel waited patiently as Sam stood there, seemingly lost in his thoughts.
“I need you to help me exorcise somebody.” He said, opening his eyes and staring right at Castiel. “He was… possessed about six months ago and I’ve been looking for someone to help me get the demon out of him.”
Castiel remained silent, observing the man. Different types of people asked for an exorcism, and in his thankfully limited experience, there had only ever been one that had been real. There were the people who only sort of believed in his priest's abilities, and what they were seeing was real. Others deeply thought their friend or family were possessed, when in reality they couldn’t see that the person had taken a different path. This man, however, was one of the few who seemed to genuinely be asking for help.
Castiel had several questions about this request, but Sam beat him to it.
“I know he’s possessed because I watched it happen. He had black eyes and…” Sam shifted on his heels, “well he hasn’t been the same since.”
“I tried to… I tried to get other priests to do it but either they refused,” Sam clicked his tongue and shrugged, “Or it didn’t work.”
Castiel shivered a little. An exorcism that didn’t work wasn’t unheard of, he probably had some failed ones himself. But to have multiple attempts fail…
“I am curious as to how he got possessed,” Castiel muttered, “Despite your declaration, you seem nonchalant and rather…unfussed that this person has been processed by a demon. Possibly a powerful one at that.”
Sam blinked and clicked his jaw shut turning away. Castiel watched as the man seemed to think for a moment before letting out a breath. “It’s a long story.”
“I have time.”
“Well my brother doesn’t,” Sam snapped, already apologetic after saying the words. “It’s been a long few months Father Novak, and I’d really like your help.”
Castiel hummed thoughtfully. “What makes you think that I would be any different to other priests?”
Sam seemed to be still again before answering. “Blind faith.”
Castiel shook his head. “In what?”
“In that, I can bring my brother back.”
Castiel sighed. His stomach clenched and he swallowed tightly. It was annoying the emotional impact this was happening on him, it wasn’t his brother and it was certainly most definitely none of his business. He was a decent priest and didn’t need to mess up his reputation with a potential bad run. It was not that he didn’t want to help the man, but he was not the person to leave this town for any errand, especially an exorcist.
He looked at Sam again. Sam stared down at Cas, his calm demeanour undermined by the tired look in his eyes. Castiel could see that Sam had been through a lot, and must of cared very deeply for his brother. Castiel desperately wanted a sign to strike him right then and there to inform him if he should go.
“Alright,” Castiel says, adjusting his robes. I'll need an hour or so to get ready. I'll give you my address, and you can pick me up then.”
Sam smiled and thanked Cas deeply, and they exchanged quick words of addresses, where Cas lived and where they were going. As Sam left Castiel looked up at Michael and then over at Gabriel. For a moment in the sliver of light, he thought he saw the angel move, a wink and a shift of the face behind the wing.
The sun disappeared again before Castiel could think he saw anything move at all.
-
Castiel was no stranger to the looks as he walked down the street. The regular church people usually nodded or saved a small greeting in acknowledgment. Others did double takes or whispered loudly as he walked past, with his favourite comment so far being ‘Since when did we have a shady priest?’
He always got his groceries at one small supermarket at the edge of the town square, a little shop where it was always warm, unbearably in summer but heavenly in winter. He walked in and was greeted enthusiastically by the cashier.
“Hey, Castiel!” calls out Charlie. She had been working there part-time for years, usually in the afternoons when she wasn’t behind her laptop working for a web developer. Castiel always asked her for assistance in anything technology-related as he could never quite figure out his phone or the experience they called the internet. She was one of the few ones in town who didn’t judge him too harshly. Teased him- yes, but helped him at the end of the day.
“Hello Charlie,” he greets in his low voice, carefully picking up a basket. He was the only one there, and it was almost a relief. “Has Dorthy got back to you yet?”
Charlie sighs and flopps over the counter. “Noooo, she hasn’t. I’ve been checking my messages all day.” She looks up brightly at Cas.
“Do you think you could, y'know, send a little something to the guy up there?” She grins, watching Castiel raise an eyebrow at her.
“I don’t think it works that way, Charlie.” He replies, moving to pull a box of rice off of a shelf.
“C'mon Casserole, please? Just a little one?” She whines. He let out a small chuckle and sent a quiet prayer in his head.
“Perhaps if you actually entered the church sometime I shall do it as a favour.”
She stuck out her tongue. “You’re no fun Capsicum.”
He quietly continued to pull things from the shelves as she chatted madly beside him. It was nice to have some sort of friend in the town, despite their unusual relationship. She didn’t seem entirely religious to Cas, and they often simply joked about the extremes of the church rather than talk about the practice itself. It was a good balance, a genuine small fun in his day.
It was also amusing to hear his name being mutilated by her. He had told her his real name in embarrassment one day and noted that he didn’t like the angelic connotation it had, as it made people wonder about his priesthood as an angel-named father. Charlie had made it her new assignment to produce as many nicknames as she could. Her favourite she had declared very loudly next to an old lady, “Casanova” and caused Castiel to splash water on the poor woman to get her up from the floor. He considered himself thankful that she was not a churchgoer, and that she seemed to not know who he was. She now referred to him as the ‘slut’ of the town but no one quite understood it was him she was referring to. It sent Charlie in a fit of laughter whenever he voiced the incident.
“Going on a trip, Casino?” She asks, picking up a can of beans from his basket and startling him out of his thoughts.
He nods and she gaped in bewilderment.
“Seriously? Cas you never leave this shitty town! Holy shit,” she curses, Cas side-eying her for her blasphemy.
“You’re seriously getting out?”
“I have been out of town before,” Castiel says defensively.
“Yeah, like in the last century,” she argues. Castiel pulls a face.
“What’s got you going? Found a better church? Oo, one with nuns?” She chatters noisily next to him. Castiel brings the basket to the checkout where she starts scanning as fast as she talks.
“I bet you found a really cool church to work at. One with proper clergy houses, like your cottage but way cooler. Ooo and the really fancy rooms that are at the back of the church. Or is it technically the front? Since that’s where you pray and baptise.”
Castiel holds up a hand to stop her rambles and carefully collects the bags she fills.
“I am just helping a guy with an exorcism. He has come a long way and I know that I must help him however he needs,” he says, satisfied with his answer.
Charlie smiles and gives him a hug, which throws the priest off his steady feet and almost drops the bags.
“Aww, I’m gonna miss you, weird buddy. You better come back before Sunday or the town will have a riot.” Castiel finds himself smiling softly and trying to return the hug with stiff arms. He knows he will slightly miss the town and plans to pray before he leaves that it will be a short and easy trip. It’s not so much that he will miss the townspeople, other than Charlie, it’s the safety of the sleepy town.
He leaves the little store, giving a small wave as Charlie yells “Goodbye Cash Register!” from behind the closing door.
Sam had told him that his brother was only an hour's drive, but it was enough to worry him. Going anywhere for any amount of time from the church concerned him. He had already contacted the pastor from down the road to fill in for him, a kind man who had planned on becoming a priest but preferred to run the small church in the village nearby. He was already organising to move his mass to Castiel's church and Cas was extremely grateful. It was difficult in an isolated area to get someone to fill in for him, especially for any amount of time.
He arrived back at his small house on the hill behind the church, the forest shielding his home from prying eyes. Carefully, he packed a small bag of robes and more comfortable clothes just in case. A second bag was prepared, filled with holy water, crosses, candles and several other items he knew he might need to use on this mysterious possession.
The faint knock on the door alerted him of his new company and he gingerly opened the door. Sam was standing in his lanky glory, letting out a small smile upon seeing Cas.
“Hey, are we ready to go?”
Castiel nodded, and Sam took the two bags to an idling car, an Impala Chevy ‘67 that was shining beautifully on the driveway.
He took a hard look at his pathetic house with no decorations and wondered if there was anything else he was missing. This was a trick question since his house looked barely lived in and had loads of things missing.
He knew there was one thing and he stared at the cupboard doors, glaring at the item through the wood. He shouldn’t need it.
Carefully, he shut the door behind him and joined Sam in the car.
Angel blade stored away in his sleeve.