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Um... I'm Castiel. Some of you know me, obviously. I sometimes show myself at the clinic--I'm a healer. Well. [ He looks down into his lap. ] I try to be. The ailment that so badly hit us last month was beyond my ability to remedy, and for that I am deeply sorry.

However if there is anything, any scrape, any...broken leg, or incurable sickness... I should be able to resolve it. Should be. Given the state of my powers here, it does seem to be a game of chance. But I have healed far worse in the past. It's better, surely, to let me try than to live with pain and scarring when I might help with both.

But that isn't what I was here to say, not really. I wanted to... I want to...

I haven't been very clear, and I feel that it's important, given the way things were, and the way things will likely be again. I hear you, all of you, when you turn to prayer. It's impossible to avoid, and while I understand that it is private... I just wanted to apologize, either way.

[ ooc: Castiel doesn't hear all character's prayers since you can opt out of that on his permissions post, however! It's a fun way to make new CR with him if you're interested; just drop him a prayer in his IC inbox! ]

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[ Castiel had healed people before. He was used to it, that moment after healing when relief and joy, emotion surged in the person he'd healed. It wasn't unexpected now, either, even from a vampire. After all, he had been made whole again once, and not quite known what to feel about it, overjoyed or frightened--at least in that moment, he had had a purpose to fulfill, and it buoyed him.

Even possessed, he had healed the sick and the dying, the blind. He remembered most of it. He had healed more people with monsters crawling under his skin than he had as a free angel. That had upset him.

So he was making a difference as best he could now, at this clinic, with this small group of survivors. It was always a relief when his magic worked.

But this gratitude surprised even him. It rarely stretched to such assumed intimacy. There had been the demon, Meg, but her feelings toward him had been something else entirely... Demons were twisted like that. He knew that this was simply honest thanks. ]

Have you faith now? Do you need more?

[ After the elation of been graced with God's servant had passed Armand felt the stab of despair that often came with his encounters with the life beyond. He felt dirty and unworthy. How could he have asked for something such as this? All of his crimes, his abhorrent behaviour. It tortured him in this moment.

He thought back to centuries ago when he was just a boy, thirteen or fourteen perhaps. How he was such a gifted painter that the residence of Kiev Rus claimed that his paintings were 'not made by human hands'. He had been ready to bury himself in the ground with the monks in the underground monastery, only taking food and water to keep himself alive all the while painting in God's glory. It would have been a life completely dedicated to Him. He would have had it if not for his father who was vain and jealously guarded his son.

Armand felt it was important that Castiel know this. He opened his Mind Gift and sent the images and thoughts forward. There was nothing he had wanted more in mortal life. ]

That is enough.

[ He let his blood tears roll down his face. He was looking at Castiel with adoration and awe. How could he live with himself knowing this was a reality in some distant universe? ]

Please tell me. Would I be forgiven?

[ Castiel's expression softened. He closed his eyes, and accepted what was offered, because it was given so freely, so willingly, and with such an undercurrent of misery and desperation. He couldn't give the vampire the answer he craved, and yet, when he opened his eyes and looked at him, crying, he felt pity even so. ]

I cannot tell you. Our worlds are different enough. In mine, I can tell you that all vampires, and your kin, werewolves, wendigo, djinn--your spirits cannot reach Heaven. They are confined in Purgatory, to consume each other, as they did in life, until the end of time.

But for you, God may be more willing. I cannot speak for Him, for His wrath or for His mercy, for He never gave me any.

[ He paused, fell quiet. The vampire had been honest with him, and even if it shook his faith... No, this was strong, unshaking and desperate. ]

I can't tell you what my Father would say. There are some days, considering the things that I have seen him allow, the harm and the misery, that I wonder if I understood Him at all. I sought Him out, once...

[ He shook his head. ]

Perhaps we seek forgiveness for what we've done from others, because we cannot stand to forgive ourselves. Perhaps we look for God to hold our hands, because we do not have the strength to do what must be done on our own. What do you think?

Then in choosing an immortal life in an act of love, it has denied me the love that matters most.

[ He sounds incredibly bitter as he lets the tears dry on his freshly healed face. But if he was honest with himself if he had known this when his Master offered him the Dark Gift would he have refused it? He was so caught up in infatuation and fear of mortality at the time. Even a vision of Heaven hadn't been enough to dissuade him from the Blood.

He listened intently, soaking up every word. It was difficult to contemplate these questions. He had committed evil. Had he regretted it? No. He had meant every and each act. He would rather be scorched alive than admit this, however. ]

I believe I have strayed and I do not remember how one forgives oneself. I do not have the strength to endure this alone! I need such a hand.

[ He had his paramours on Earth. They gave him purpose and invigorated him with life. Here in this damp cave, what was there? ]

[ Castiel rose, quietly, and crossed over to the basin, running warm water onto a cloth. He returned with it, patient, his eyes soft, offering to clean away the blood on Armand's cheeks, to wipe away his tears. ]

I don't know. I've never forgiven myself, either, although I am trying to learn. It's all very new to me.

[ He lowered his head minutely, an abashed smile touching in place. ]

I sometimes wonder how a creature as old as I am can feel so young, so very inexperienced, as I do. My friends are always teaching me new things, showing me... [ He tilted his face upward. ] Tell me, at least, that you've made friends here. If not, I can't profess to be the best teacher, but...

[ Armand let his face be titled back and wiped. No one except his master had ever shown him such care. He was not ashamed to say it broke his heart a little. ]

What could an angel do that would require forgiveness?

[ His voice sounded small and wondering. There was no judgement, just honest curiosity. An angel was truly made in the love of God, how could they commit sin? It fascinated him to think about. ]

Who are your friends? I have none. Merely acquaintances. I fear I do not make for good companionship. I may be beyond help.

[ Sybelle and Benji loved him. But he had been their saviour, the closest thing to a holy presence they had ever seen. If not for his beauty would they truly love him? ]

[ He doesn't answer the first question, at least not at once. Instead he merely folds the cloth, so as to use the last of it to make sure the blood tears are gone. They disturb him, a little.

He's ready for the second question, though. ]

Sam and Jo. Dean. I doubt that you are as bad a companion as you claim to be. Perhaps you're tired of telling your stories, but others would like to hear them. And you never know, you may learn something new. Of angels, for example.

[ He rocked back, and away, and his eyes drifted first to the floor and then up to the window. He hadn't answered the question, not because he didn't have an answer, but because it demanded gravity. ]

I was proud, and arrogant. I brought back a man who gave his life and his body to save the world, but I wasn't strong enough to put back his broken soul. I used my friends to try to forward my own agenda. I thought that I could singlehandedly stabilize Heaven, and destroy an archangel gone mad with the desire to end the world. I let in monsters from Purgatory, who would have eaten the world, and through me they murdered my brothers and sisters, most of the number that the war against Lucifer had left. And they used my hands to kill people--thousands of innocent people, and made me believe that it was my will; God's will.

[ He still wasn't at peace with it, but every time he spoke about it, it crept somewhat closer. He looked back toward the vampire. ]

But worse than all of that, I lied to my friends, and I refused, when they asked me to stop; when they tried to save me.

[ In that moment Armand realized that he had a very narrow world view on what was sin and what wasn't. All his own transgressions seemed childish and small compared to what Castiel was describing.

Armand made a motion as if to take Castiel's arm, some sort of comforting gesture. But he thought better of it and let it fall in the air. ]

But you did this because you thought that this was true and right? Did they forgive you? I would have.

[ Pure, blind, zeal. ]

[ Castiel has only learned since his arrival in Hadriel that casual touching is okay. You see the thing is, he's spent so long with just Sam and Dean, both of them just as standoffish as they were taught to be with guys by their father, that Cas' world view had been slanted towards keeping his hands to himself. It seemed odd, but now, ever since he and Dean had fallen in close with each other, he's learned something very different. He's learned a heartfelt acre of sentiment can be shared in just a touch, a look, or a nudge against his side, and those touches are all a treasure to him.

So he doesn't miss when Armand tries to comfort him, although he does regret that he doesn't feel that it would be appropriate. After a moment of genuine consideration on the thing, he takes the straying hand in both of his own, and just holds it. ]

They did forgive me, eventually. But I still feel it. It is a weight of regret that guides me, as I try to do better by the world--and by them.

Sin is not the end of the line. It is what you do with yourself, when you have gained that knowledge, whether you repeat your mistakes knowingly, ignore your own past, or learn by it...that's what is important. I hope it is, anyway.

[ Armand looks genuinely confused as his hand is held, but then a small, boyish, shy small splits his face. This is much a blessing as the healing. He shared kisses with Sybelle and Benji but it was always him in control, the obvious powerhouse granting love on to his frail and delicate children. To be at the receiving end of such affection is everything he's ever wanted. ]

I know such a weight. I felt it for a very long time. Sometimes I wondered if it would endure as long as I would.

[ He thinks on this. He is a violent creature. He has a hard time changing his ways. But he thinks once he cut ties to the cult that brainwashed him a lot of his sin disappeared. ]

That is a reassuring thought. I wish to be a better person.

[ His lips quirk into a self-deprecating smile. ]

A better vampire.

And yet it is wholly yours. Individually yours. You would not be who you believe you are without it, nor shedding it remain so.

[ It is the pain itself that is the blessing, and the place to start, something to hold on to. Castiel has understood that, perhaps he can guide him on his way.

Vampire or not. ]

You can be. I am certain of it.

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if this is too late just ignore, I'm so sorry ;;

It's all good! I am the happiest slowpoke anyway~

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