A/N: This has some Naomi bashing. It isn't that I don't like her, I do like her (I find a hard time disliking characters XD) but she was characterized as having selfish intentions, wanting the tablet all for herself. So yep be prepared XD Hope you like it!

Castiel's Mission

In the end, it was of selfishness that sent Castiel on his mission. Because such a beautiful, radiant soul to be so faithless was such a shame, and the angels above wanted to claim it because, because, because there were not enough reasons in the world to justify it. Gazing down at the world with one wide eye and one shut and shriveled, Naomi pointed a finger and nodded, He is Righteous, and he must know that we are here. That God has made him.

The first attempts to help him believe however, were petty. The things like giving him an A on tests that he knew he failed, lifting his spirits when he was feeling low, giving Dean extra tips on his work days, they were small, insignificant deeds that Dean didn't blink twice at. Naomi and the others were forced to think of an alternative. They were unaccustomed to the way of human life and where faith originates because to angels, faith was like the brightness setting on a cell phone; it's always there, inevitably there, but it can be more so for others, and the only way to lose brightness entirely was to turn the phone off.

Castiel, somehow was brought up. The angel with too much heart. And unbeknownst to Castiel, it was decided and his feet suddenly felt too heavy on the clouds, his fingers too wide to grab onto anything, and the bright heavenly light too much for his eyes. And he was unaware he had Fallen until he felt the excruciatingly painful rips through his back and the earth under him feeling harder than it had felt before.

And despite his shouts and screams for help, despite his cries of answers, each and every one went unanswered. His hands shaking in fear, he turned and saw a single road with no cars. His feet carried him as if on instinct, his heart beating rapidly and he had no warning before he dropped to his knees because what was this place? What was he doing there? What wrong had he done? Panic and anxiety rushed through him and he knotted his hands in his hair, pulling at it and he screamed again for an answer: Brothers, Sisters, what have I done?

His only answer was the wind pushing him on. He stumbled to his feet and took another step and another and another and another why could he not stop? He spun around and looked for anything familiar but he found nothing. Just over the horizon he could see a few buildings, somehow it drew him towards it like a magnet. He blinked into the bright daylight, looking forward.

He was unprepared to see a school. He had no other choice nor did he have any vague idea of what to do otherwise. His footsteps were slow and shaking as an aftershock and he found himself in a classroom, somehow no one questioning the new student. The next time he blinked there was a backpack and supplies complete with a schedule. There was roll call and his bemusement was built upon when the teacher—

"Castiel Novak?"

He blinked dumbly because Novak? Nonetheless he raised his hand. The teacher nodded like she recognized him.

And somewhere in Heaven, Naomi watched as if it were some cheap movie theater complete with complementary popcorn. She pushed Castiel along on the trail and into the classroom, setting up the perfect moment, even giving him a class with Dean Winchester. It would be simple and easy, Castiel would approach the Righteous Man and show him how real angels were. But where her plan went awry was where she had not realized Castiel had no idea why he was there and who Dean was, so you can imagine her fury when they didn't speak for the first week.

She sent waves of anger upon the other students and prompted them to attack Castiel, and in turn the Righteous Man would save him. She did not wince at the hits and grimace when blood fell from his lips, and she did not feel a thing when he curled in on himself in self-defense. Castiel, a warrior and soldier of the Lord did not lay a hand on the child, and somehow Naomi did not waver at that. She knew the Righteous Man would come, and she knew Castiel would convince him of angels and God and restore faith.

And so she was right. Dean found him in the bathroom after that, and she folded her hands in her lap. Her lips twitched into a contorted smile as she watched them converse, she did not register the brokenness of Castiel's voice and Gr—soul. But perhaps for an angel, Castiel always had had a soul. And there it was—the spark. The first glance Dean had at Castiel's back had ignited some sort of faith in his soul and his thoughts echoed, they resonated in everything she allowed herself to hear. It's almost like he's an angel.

But after that it had dwindled and Naomi was infuriated again. Castiel was so close but he failed. Dean was watching Castiel plenty so why was it not the other way around? Castiel had the full ability to convince Dean to have faith, yet he was not. And that is how the other boy was provoked, filled with indescribable rage for apparent no reason other than a glance and Castiel found himself painted on the ground. His voice was hoarse and Naomi didn't even feel the need to avert her eyes. This was all for the greater good after all. They wanted Dean's soul to be filled with faith, and it did not occur to her that this want was fueled by selfishness.

She was however feeling something when Castiel's consciousness withered and started to fade, but it was not concern. It was something along the lines of Where is the Righteous Man? And Castiel let out his last sharp breath before it evened and his vision blacked. The teenager seemed satisfied and started to leave. Naomi crossed her arms, waiting for the Righteous Man, but he would not come for a while. The blood on Castiel's nose started to dry and crust, his limbs limp and shaking. Naomi sighed and leaned on one hand. Must she wait forever?

But it was not forever, it was a half hour. Thirty minutes of Castiel curled up on the concrete, the collar of his shirt sticking to his chest in blood that dripped from his nose and the corners of his mouth down his neck and trickled down his shoulder. Finally the Righteous Man knelt by the angel and brushed some hair from his head. Another boy was with him, his brother, Naomi noted, unimportant. He helped Castiel to his feet and to the clinic again. There was something growing in his eyes and something about the lingering touches that Naomi felt she wasn't paying enough attention to, but she let it be.

She was shocked to find the brother have faith before the Righteous Man; however, this ignited the faith in the Righteous Man, so she was delighted. She didn't care about the lies that spewed from his lips his soul believed. But the Righteous Man only believed that Castiel was an angel, he did not believe in angels or God.

So she gave them more time, but the more time she gave them, the deeper they fell. Both of them. Dean's gaze lingered longer and longer and longer and Castiel's fingertips brushed Dean's as wistful thoughts tumbled through his dreams. Unspoken promises were shared and somehow they were so close without even touching. There was something passionate about the two of them, and if Naomi had been wiser, she would have seen the danger in it.

But it wasn't Dean's faith that grew with each day, it was something else, something Naomi almost didn't recognize and then felt foolish for not realizing it sooner, realizing that it was love. The fire burning beneath their hands when they were close enough to touch, their voices and words that shot back and forth teasingly and flirtingly. It was innocent and beautiful, not that Naomi could recognize as much, she only recognized the lack of faith, and this time she could do nothing. She could do nothing to influence such a beautiful soul.

Everything changed one day when Castiel acted on the glowing love, but the confession was twisted and turned into a quarrel, and words were spat and shot that could never be taken back but they were truth so it didn't matter did it? Naomi could see the hurt that tore through both souls like a dagger and the Righteous Man's realization that Castiel was acting much too defensive for only his own behalf—there were others—there was a Father that Castiel felt he had to defend and the last flame was lit on the oil poured over his soul—

He had faith.

But it tumbled behind the lines of war and bombs and gunshots sounded in the defense of confusion and hurt because what were they to do? But Naomi paid no mind to their troubles, she called Castiel the next morning. He had completed his mission and restored faith to the faithless Righteous Man. She could sense his confusion and demand for answers, and she could sense his hesitation she could not understand his hesitation. Would he not want nothing more than to return home? Unbeknownst to her, home is more than a roof.

She did not understand the pull between the Righteous Man and the angel. She did not understand why they held each other in their arms and felt the warmth they felt, and it was not physical but emotional warmth.

They spoke so simply.

Again, Naomi did not understand.

And in shouts and begs they did not want to be separated.

Naomi, I don't want to leave!
Naomi did not understand. She merely let go and pretended not to hear Castiel scream.

And then she realized she was wrong. Dean did not have faith in other angels.

He had faith in Castiel.