Chapter Text
This is it.
This is the end of the line, where his life officially comes to a well-groomed, meticulously organized, end.
Castiel Novak, age thirty four, cause of death-
Well, he’s not sure the coroners will accept ‘arranged marriage’ as a cause of death, but they really should because here, standing at an altar, in front of a woman he doesn't love and family that, he’s beginning to suspect, doesn't love him, he feels like his heart could stop beating and it would have no bearing on his future.
He thought marriage was supposed to be about passion and devotion, but apparently not, because he certainly feels nothing like that for his bride, at least not as a husband should.
Meg is fine, logically, but she’s also a little stuck-up and a lot snarky.
It wasn’t a big deal when they first met, years ago, when their families innocently introduced them to each other as acquaintances. She got him out of the house more than his brothers were ever willing to and she had a sort of defiance against long-standing traditions that he secretly respected deeply.
His respect for her is past tense because, well, when an arranged marriage had been brought into the picture, it was Castiel who- according to his mother- ‘pitched a fit’ while Meg easily agreed to the whole scheme.
‘Networking’ is what they all called it, like this is some business deal, like he saw Meg on LinkedIn and said ‘Hey, I see we’re mutual connections, wanna’ get married?’.
As if a normal marriage involves the groom being escorted to the cathedral, just to make sure he doesn't run off into the sunset before he can say ‘I do.’.
Not that he has anywhere to run off to.
Everyone Castiel knows, spare a disowned sibling or two, is here, in the pews, smiling like this is a beautiful event that they’re honored to be a part of. He has nowhere to run, no money of his own, he doesn't even have a getaway car.
There’s no out, just a slightly sympathetic best-man behind him and a bride who calls him ‘Clarence’ right across the altar.
Even angels can’t save him now.
The priest is nearing the end of the liturgy, which means vows are next. He didn’t prepare anything, he can bet Meg didn’t either, which means he just has to nod and agree to whatever the priest tells him to.
There’s a knot in his chest that aches painfully.
This morning his best-man, the only relative he thinks feels slight pity for him, found Castiel in the groom's suite, staring at a blank wall with tears in his eyes.
He’d said he was just preparing for his big day, brushing his cousin’s concerns aside quickly.
Balthazar has no business knowing that Castiel was thinking about his wasted life, about how going through with this marriage will just cement his place as the family's shiny new pawn, to manipulate however they please.
He’d wondered about what would have happened twelve years ago, after university, if he hadn't come back, if he’d taken his bachelors degree and walked away.
But he didn’t.
And that same year Meg had come into the picture.
And six months after that so had their marriage.
He’d been too young and scared to leave after that and now he’s just tired of it all.
The liturgy is over now, and everyone is standing, waiting eagerly for Castiel to grit his teeth and promise his life to Meg, to promise her that he’ll be a loving and doting husband.
He’ll try, certainly. Just because he loathes this entire situation doesn't mean he will take it out on Meg, but deep down he’s certain she knows that he is simply incapable of giving her his heart.
The priest is looking at him now, grabbing Castiel's wrist with one hand and Meg’s with the other, guiding their hands together so they can begin their new marriage blessed and prosperous.
Meg’s hand is almost on top of his, it feels like the world is moving in slow motion, like it will stop completely if their skin makes contact, because that will make this all real .
Then a deafening ‘bang’ sends him jumping backwards, wrenching his hand away as he, as well as the rest of the congregation, search for the source of the interruption.
Though it requires little searching, it’s really quite hard to miss.
The large oak doors at the other end of the cathedral are wide open, sending a wave of confusion through the room, as a man Castiel has never seen before staggers in from the lobby.
He’s breathing heavily, like he ran all the way here, one of his leather work-boots is unlaced, his flannel shirt is improperly buttoned and, truly, he looks like an absolute mess.
Micheal and Raphael are on their feet, but they’re so far up the aisle that they can’t make it to the wedding crasher before he raises his head up, green eyes flashing dangerously.
“Don’t do it, she’s not the one you want to marry!” He bellows out with a red face, voice echoing off the pristine walls, “She’s not-” His gaze settles on Meg, then drifts over to Castiel, shoulders dropping slightly, “Oh shit .”
Castiel is aware that several things are happening now, all stacking on top of the other.
Meg is glaring at him murderously, like she’s going to take off her gaudy veil and strangle him with it. Mother has started crying, looking as though someone has just interrupted her wedding (though it might as well be, given how she wanted it more than Castiel). And Micheal and Raphael are barreling towards the green-eyed man, ready to throw him out onto the street.
Out onto the street, where he maybe has a car, with a tank of gas, ready to carry Castiel far away from the gallows he’s been condemned too.
He’s not as religious as some of his family but, damnit, if he doesn't know a sign from God when he sees one.
It takes Castiel a moment to find his voice and, when he does, it’s broken and uneven, cracking as he calls out while looking at his saving grace with nothing but relief and gratitude.
“He’s right!” His dress shoes pound against the altar steps, as the entire congregation turns from the interrupter to gawk at him, “I don’t love her-” His father is giving him a look that guarantees that, if Meg doesn't manage to kill him, he will certainly finish the job, “I love that man!”
His mother cries harder as he runs, runs right towards the wildly baffled green eyes waiting at the door, ducking his brother's desperate and clumsy attempts to grab him before he can make it to his apparent lover.
He shoots what he hopes is an apologetic look at the wedding crasher when he gets within arms reach, wrapping his arms around the man's neck and jumping, letting surprisingly strong arms catch him in what is sure to be the world's most awkward bridal carry.
Not only does the man have such vibrant eyes, Castiel realizes as they look at eachother, noses almost touching, he also has lovely freckles.
The man makes a shocked noise, shifting his grip on Castiel, “What are you-”
There are thundering footsteps quickly approaching.
“Run.” Cas orders, watching his new companion take a few hasty steps back as Micheal rapidly closes the distance between them, “Run! Run! Run! Run!”
“Yep, okay-” He turns on his heel and takes off, pushing back through the entrance while Castiel clings to him for dear life, “Guess we’re doing this now.”
There’s shouting behind them, as they burst outside, Castiel can hear his family, his friends, screaming for him to come back, to finish what they started for him.
But he can’t, not when freedom is right here, in the form of what appears to be a knockoff lumberjack and his Chevy Impala parked right out front, half-way on the sidewalk.
He’s not set down till the man yanks open his car door and deposits Castiel onto the bench seat, snapping for Castiel to move over before he takes his place behind the wheel and jams the keys in the ignition.
The last Castiel see’s of the only life he’s ever known, as he pulls himself up and fumbles for the seat belt, is through this mystery man's rear view mirror, watching his parents, his brothers, and an enraged Meg gather on the front steps of the cathedral.
Then his savior's foot is on the gas and, within mere seconds, the crowd of disappointed faces disappears, leaving Castiel with a wondrous revelation.
Today isn’t the end of the line for him, far from it, today is the day that he finally dictates his own journey.