I was thinking what would be the best halloween costume for Cas and then I remembered Weeping Angels from Doctor Who and I just had to doodle it
is2g weeping angels are like the coolest creatures ever
Thank you dear, now I have the headcanon that when an angel’s reason for falling rejects them, they become so consumed with grief they become weeping angels.
but can you imagine
One day Dean is looking for Castiel but he finds a statue. The statue is unbelievably similar to Cas so he comes closer to it. Dean looks at it’s face. Despair and sorrow are painted all over it. The statue is crying. Dean raises his hand and touches the cheek of the stone angel. And then he blinks. The statue disappears. Dean is shocked and he quickly turns around. The last thing he’s able to hear is weeping.
" It’s your fault… It’s all your fault…! "
It had been three months since they last saw Cas. Three months since he had shown up on the bunkers front steps, dirty and shivering as if the frigid December air had been affecting him. Three months since the angel had explained that he wasn’t an angel anymore. Three months since he had last been seen by anyone.
One week after Cas had disappeared, Dean started calling up hunters. He put out feelers for anyone who could find him, and Sam told him that surely he would show up soon. “Where could he have gone?” he pointed out, and went back to organizing and researching.
Two weeks after the angel had left Sam began worrying too. The brothers put out missing person reports and looked everywhere they could think of for him to go. They put Charlie on the case and told her to call as soon as anything came up, she swore she would and set to work. No calls came.
Three weeks, four weeks, five weeks passed and still nothing. It was as if the angel had fallen off the face of the planet, no one had seen or heard from him since he had visited the boys. Two months into the search Sam gave up, convincing himself that if Castiel wanted to be found he would show up somewhere. Dean on the other hand, he didn’t give, couldn’t give up. Sleepless nights plagued him as he searched and searched while his brother became more and more worried for his health.
But Sam didn’t know what the hunter had told the angel- fallen angel now, as Cas had told them. The younger brother had no idea what Castiel had confessed, had no clue that he had told Dean exactly why he had fallen and why he had shown up at the bunker in the middle of the night in December. Only Dean knew, and he would not rest until he found him, he swore that his last words to his best friend would not be the ones spoken that night, they couldn’t be, they just couldn’t.
On the Sunday marking the fourth month of the fallen angel’s disappearance Sam dragged Dean out of the bunker onto a hunt. Despite the hunter’s reluctance to leave the bunker, in case Cas showed up, he agreed. He could use a distraction.
"So get this," Sam said as they drove down the road, he had his laptop open and was reading articles out loud to catch up his brother on the case he had been tracking. "Cemetery in Lawrence, Kansas, people have been going in and not coming out.”
“Weird,” Dean stared off into the road, thinking about how Cas had left and never come back either. Maybe he shouldn’t have come on this hunt, “You know Sammy maybe I should drop you off and head back just in case…”
His brother sighed, “In case what Dean? In case Cas comes back? If he shows up then I’m sure he can remember our phone numbers, he’ll call if he needs us Dean. Don’t worry about him right now, worry about this.” He shoved a stack of newspapers into his lap, missing person’s reports. “So I looked up all these people who went missing, and the weird thing is that they all had two results. A date of birth and a date of when they went missing, but there were also dates of birth and death for the exact same names but at least twenty years ago. Weird right?”
The older hunter mumbled something in the affirmative and kept driving; this was going to be a long case.
After many interviews and searches, the brothers (meaning Sam) concluded that the people who had gone missing were somehow ending up in the past. Sam went off to do research in the library and sent Dean to investigate some more houses, he warned his brother not to go near the cemetery without him. “We don’t know what this thing is, so don’t go doing something stupid, okay?” and then he left Dean to his own devices. As was to be expected, the hunter went off alone to the cemetery to see if he could find anything helpful. Dean swore he wouldn’t step foot inside, and hoped that whatever this thing was had territory issues and stayed inside.
Dean circled the place slowly, spotting a sign reading Greenville Cemetery, taking note of all the things graveyards usually had, tombstones, flowers, statues. Grass was dying in places and flowers were blooming in others, spring was such a strange time of year. The hunter looked out across the graves, at all the people who had died and all the empty places left for people to die.
“Cas,” it was a whisper, blowing in and out of the space around Dean. This place was so quiet, peaceful, it seemed wrong to pray out loud in such a beautiful tragedy, but he was compelled to pray even if it was just one last time.
“Hey Cas, so I don’t know where you are and I know that you’re fallen now but maybe you could drop us a line and tell us you’re okay.” Dean ran his hands along the edge of the fence surrounding the property before hoisting himself over and landing quietly inside. “I know that I said some things, things that I regret,” he continued. The trees were still and the birds were quiet, if he wasn’t so scared he might laugh at how much of a chick flick moment it could be. “But Cas I want you to know that I lied,” the hunter made his way through the tombstones, looking out for the monster.
“When you came over I know that must have been all you could think about, I mean you fell and you came there, to the bunker, first.” A rustling sounded behind him and Dean whipped around, nothing was there. “You were so patient, as always with us humans, and I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention. I missed you Cas,” more rustling, closer now, as if someone was following him through the yard, but every time he turned to the source there were only statues and wind.
“When you told me that, that you… that you…” Dean choked on his words, suddenly remembering Sammy was at the library. He wouldn’t know where Dean had gone but Castiel was more important, always more important, and he had realized it too late. “That you loved me. That you fell for me.”
His eyes fell on another statue, an angel, Like Cas, he thought making his way towards it. “And I was a dick Cas. I threw all that love and hope into your face and you ran, I made you run, because I couldn’t get a damn grip on my emotions.” The hunter approached the angel statue, it looked familiar, but why?
“I’m poison Cas, and now I’ve poisoned you too, I’m so sorry. I hope that whatever this thing is can send me back. Back to before all of this, back to before all this shit hit the fan.” Dean was a few feet from the angel, it looked like it was crying, no, weeping. A weeping angel, Just like Cas, the thought struck him and he turned away for a second. “I ruin everything I touch Castiel but I will fix this. I’m gonna go back to before the demons and Hell and Heaven got in the way and I’m not gonna hurt you. I won’t hurt anyone every again.”
When Dean looked up the statue looked much closer than before, but he knew he hadn’t moved at all. “So please Cas, don’t do anything stupid once I get there. I’m going through a lot of trouble for your feathery ass,” he paused, remembering, “Well maybe not so feathery anymore thanks to me, but it will be again soon. Promise me something okay?” The hunter looked up at the statue, its hands covering its eyes and an imprint of tears on its cheeks. “Don’t ever change.” Dean blinked and the statue moved, moved its hands from its face, it was so familiar that he gasped. It looked just like him, just like his angel. “I need you,” he choked out, “I love you.”
Dean Winchester turned away from the angel, not able to bear the sight of something so similar to his friend when he heard a rush of feathers and the sound of concrete scraping across concrete. Before he had time to think he felt a light touch on his shoulder, exactly on top of where Castiel’s hand print had been. A voice, thick with the weight of unshed tears, rasped in his ear “It’s your fault… it’s all your fault…”