[ Nothing is quite the same after the Flood. They lose a lot of buildings. People, too. It's as if Beacon gets torn asunder.
Little remains when all is said and done. Mostly the cabins in the old village, the church, the museum. Sam and Dean are still there, and for that Castiel is endlessly grateful. He doesn't wish this place on them, but... he knows what awaits him if he returns to his own universe. And he knows that as he is now, he will never meet them as they are now, either. Even if his own future runs the course they've been on rather than diverting. He might have Sam and Dean and home - but they would not be this Sam and Dean.
So... in a twisted, selfish way... he is glad for their continued existence.
In the aftermath, there is no sign of Dr. Solis. The lanterns remain, though now no one knows what death might bring. The bonfire is dim, and the world feels...smaller. Darker. More opressive. They soon realize it's become more dangerous, too. The benevolent spirits are gone. The ferry arrives, still, ominously silent and listing sideways in the dark water. It doesn't bring any new arrivals anymore, just supplies - necessities. Bare minimum food, the occasional weapon.
The forest has grown darker. The light has grown dimmer. In the dark sky, it feels like something is watching.
They make due, the three of them and what allies they have. They set up more rigid patrols along the forest, they shrink the hub of civilization down to keep people safe more easily. They hunt at the edges of the forest, making sure nothing can get too far in.
Stometimes, something gets too far in.
The church is dark and silent. The candles on the altar are incredibly dim. The trap door is silent. Castiel sits on a church pew next to Dean's body, a hand on his chest. Every now and then, he sends a small spark of grace through his palm - he can't heal Dean, but he doesn't know what else to do - they don't know if people come back without Dr. Solis. He's had to put Sam to sleep - they're both too worried, too exhausted.
Castiel keeps his vigil. Wills Dean to wake up, to live again. There are few lights left in the dark.
ITN Verse
Little remains when all is said and done. Mostly the cabins in the old village, the church, the museum. Sam and Dean are still there, and for that Castiel is endlessly grateful. He doesn't wish this place on them, but... he knows what awaits him if he returns to his own universe. And he knows that as he is now, he will never meet them as they are now, either. Even if his own future runs the course they've been on rather than diverting. He might have Sam and Dean and home - but they would not be this Sam and Dean.
So... in a twisted, selfish way... he is glad for their continued existence.
In the aftermath, there is no sign of Dr. Solis. The lanterns remain, though now no one knows what death might bring. The bonfire is dim, and the world feels...smaller. Darker. More opressive. They soon realize it's become more dangerous, too. The benevolent spirits are gone. The ferry arrives, still, ominously silent and listing sideways in the dark water. It doesn't bring any new arrivals anymore, just supplies - necessities. Bare minimum food, the occasional weapon.
The forest has grown darker. The light has grown dimmer. In the dark sky, it feels like something is watching.
They make due, the three of them and what allies they have. They set up more rigid patrols along the forest, they shrink the hub of civilization down to keep people safe more easily. They hunt at the edges of the forest, making sure nothing can get too far in.
Stometimes, something gets too far in.
The church is dark and silent. The candles on the altar are incredibly dim. The trap door is silent. Castiel sits on a church pew next to Dean's body, a hand on his chest. Every now and then, he sends a small spark of grace through his palm - he can't heal Dean, but he doesn't know what else to do - they don't know if people come back without Dr. Solis. He's had to put Sam to sleep - they're both too worried, too exhausted.
Castiel keeps his vigil. Wills Dean to wake up, to live again. There are few lights left in the dark.
Castiel can't lose this one. ]