The room looked as though it were floating on air. It consisted of a floor of golden sandstone, surrounded by pillars of the same rock, extending forever into a sky that was still a radiant blue behind tendrils of hazy cloud. This room was the first thing Castiel saw when he opened his eyes.

At first, all Castiel's panicked brain could remember was the cold, wet creep of the Leviathan within him. Not his vessel, but his very grace, consuming it from the inside. And then Castiel was gone, wiped clean from the bones and flesh of what was once Jimmy Novak.

Staring up at the cloudy ceiling, Castiel recalls something else; waking up on damp grass by the side of a lake. His throat is still sore from the greedy, gulping breaths he had taken. The air had burned his lungs, well, burned the lungs of his vessel, because angels did not breathe. Where was he? Who was he? Before he could even raise himself from the ground, a cool hand touched his forehead and he fell into darkness again.

And now he had landed in this room without walls.

Castiel knew now why Dean had been so irate every time the angel transported him without warning. The feeling was downright unnerving.

"Welcome, Castiel," a woman's voice, low and deep.

Castiel lifted himself off the ground and turned to face the speaker. The woman wore a white robe, the draping caught up by slender, brown leather, bands. At her side rested a spear and a round shield. An ornate, silver helmet covered her head. She was dressed for battle but her brown eyes were warm and, after a moment, she took off the helmet, shaking out long, dark, curly tresses.

"Pallas Athena," Castiel breathed.

Athene smiled at him, "Well, at least you retained some of your knowledge of the ancients."

Castiel looked around him, "Where am I?"

Athene gestured at something behind him. A small table sat between two chaises and Athene motioned for Castiel to sit before taking the other lounge.

"You are within the dominion of Zeus, Father of Gods and Men. You are safe here."

Athene poured Castiel a goblet of something rich and red from a carafe that had magically appeared on the table between them and invited him to eat from a platter that had also appeared, seemingly, out of nowhere.

Castiel grasped the cup with loose fingers, still disbelieving any of this as real.

"Of course," Athene continued, her eyes on Castiel's lightly shaking fingers, "you have dabbled in the places of both."

"Why am I here?" Castiel's voice was thready and soft.

"You don't believe you deserve to be saved?" Athene asked him, her tone lifting at the end of the question.

Castiel had fought the armies of heaven and hell, suffered the betrayal of his own kin, and lost all those he believed to be his friends. Lost his faith. And yet, he had never felt more vulnerable than in this moment.

"No."

Castiel's reply was barely a whisper. He remembered asking Dean Winchester the same question the first time they met. Dean had never, in his darkest moment, needed the kind of absolution Castiel needed now.

Athene inclined her head, her expression moving between fondness and sadness.

"You are so young Castiel. In the scope of things, truly a child."

The words stung.

"I was an angel of the Lord God, creator of the universe, pagan," he almost spat out the last word, a flash of his old righteous fire crackling around him like lightning.

Athene's eyes hardened for the briefest of moments, but in them, Castiel saw the unyielding power of a goddess, the wisdom of an eternity. He slumped in his seat.

"I understand you have experienced some…difficulty…recently, Castiel, but beware, you will never truly understand how brief your god's time in this universe was. His time has come and gone, as has yours. The time of the angels has ended."

"Why did you bring me back, then," Castiel asked with a hint of sullenness.

"You are my kin, Castiel. Our relationship is a tad…distant, but we are family nonetheless."

Athene rested a forearm elegantly on the back of the chaise and faced Castiel.

"There was a time we walked among them, humans, you know? The gods. We shared our divinity with our children. There was still a hierarchy, naturally, but the veil between their world and ours was sheer. Of course, we made mistakes, treated them like toys at times, pawns. Sibling rivalry is a bitch no matter who you are."

Castiel was a little taken aback by this, and Athene smiled.

"We may not interfere in the ways of the world anymore, Castiel, but that doesn't mean we don't keep an eye on things. I am rather fond of some of the more recent turns in the English language," she mused, "less so in the evolution of Norwegian…"

At Castiel's confused look, Athene cleared her throat.

"To return to your question, I suppose I'm a little sentimental. I was venerated as the goddess of justice and a companion of heroes, tell me, how could I resist watching the fortunes of the Winchesters and their equally heroic allies?"

At the mention of Dean and Sam, Castiel's face fell.

"And that is why I have brought you back, Castiel. I watched you, knew your heart even as you made the decisions that ended your life. The race of men has been set upon time after time and you were determined to change that. Even as the souls of purgatory tore at your grace. Your sorrow was enough to bring tears to the eyes of a goddess. Your love, enough to remind me of the best of our kind."

Even though Castiel suspected Athene knew what he was thinking he couldn't help but remember Dean. Dean was the one who taught him about humanity. And the one who showed him how flawed and beautiful it could be.

Overwhelmed, Castiel turned away and wept into the crook of his elbow. Athene sat serenely and waited for him to recover.

"Do you want to see him?" she asked.

Castiel could only nod.

The air in front of them wavered and a mirrored oval appeared, shifting into something like a television screen.

"Oh, Castiel," Athene's mouth quirked up in a coy smile, "it's him, your mortal. Oh, every time I look at him I can see why you like him."

Castiel glared at the goddess, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh loosen up, Castiel, and don't try to defend his honour, or yours! If anyone needs a good fuck to take the edge off, it's you."

Castiel's eyes widened at this, causing Athene to throw her head back in laughter.

"You can't shock me gorgeous, I'm Greek, we practically invented that," Athene's laughter trailed off, "light and dark, night and day, I can see the two of you together."

Athene shivered as if cold, "Oh yes, I can definitely imagine the two of you together," she raised a suggestive eyebrow at the angel.

Despite looking scandalized, Castiel's shoulders had relaxed and his head tilted automatically as he said, "I am having difficulty with the…baseness of your manner. It reminds me of D…of them." Castiel made his statement out of confusion more than anything.

Athene understood, taking no offense, "Is that such a bad thing?"

Castiel looked straight at her, "You talk like them, take their form? Why?"

The look Athene gave him was almost pitying.

"They're our descendants, Castiel. They look and talk like us, not the other way around."

Like a key turning in a lock, Castiel's mind was opened to a knowledge he had never known. The scales fell from his eyes. Athene just nodded sagely.

"Castiel, the luminescence you bring to that vessel. You must have had mortals lining up to give you a sample of their earthly delights,' Athene smiled warmly, turning the conversation in a lighter direction.

The goddess and the fallen angel turned their attention back to the hovering screen. Dean was standing with his back to them, facing a lake or an ocean, hands in his pockets. He turned, almost facing them and stared up into the sky, squinting at the glare of the sun.

"He's looking for you," Athene said quietly.

"Is he going to find me?" Castiel inquired, hesitantly.

"That, my beloved kinsman, is in your hands."

A/N I write fic in lieu of actually being able to hug Castiel.