castiel was a cynical angel, as they went. he had seen kingdoms rise and torn them down with his own hands. he saw trillions of lives in the blink of an eye, ripping apart happiness and sadness alike. the stars burned out and he watched in disinterest. god had abandoned him. any improvement he attempted - for himself, his family, the world - was dashed against stones according to prophecy and scripture. nothing mattered but blood and vengeance and a blade in his palm.
but as he watched sam winchester, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his shy smile, hands that translated ancient words and killed legends, a heart aching that it couldn’t hold the world, and a soul so bright it burned - castiel thought he might begin to believe in miracles.