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[majestyofthethrone]

How do you keep faith, here? How do you remember that God wants...how do you keep some kind of faith, keep from losing your mind with the things that happen to us?

My whole life I've heard God; all I had to do was listen and there He was, like music, like a symphony, and even when I was at the height of being terrified, there He was just working the notes of this great symphony. But then I followed that music, I followed Grigori, and I did something and now I can't hear anything, for the first time I've lost God and I just want Him back-

What if I did was unforgivable? What if saving another person isn't enough? What if what I did has stained my soul?

How do I keep believing that God loves me when I can't hear Him anymore?

How do you keep faith?

Comments

text; private

[falteringly]

Where are you?

text; private

[majestyofthethrone]

With my piano.

[falteringly]

[ Somehow, he's slowly come to think of it as their room rather than just a room, and before he'd even asked that question, he'd already made his way in that direction. It's not as instantaneous as he'd like it to be, as it should be, but he's there just as quickly anyhow.

This time, when he approaches her, he doesn't go to his knees. He simply rests a hand on her shoulder. ]

[majestyofthethrone]

[Her face is red, her eyes bright, her nose looks rubbed a bit raw. It's definitely not any kind of pretty crying that she's been doing - there are tissues all over, and her hands are wet.

When she turns to look at him she reaches for him, like he can fix it.]

[falteringly]

[ There's hesitation, but it's slight, his body leaning toward her like distant muscle memory. Like this is what it's supposed to do when you comfort someone. His gaze is focused somewhere across the room as if he can't really look at her just yet. ]

Tell me. [ It's soft, commanding but gentle. ]

[majestyofthethrone]

[It takes her a minute. She sits and her hands shake, and when they finally stop she begins to write.]

I killed something. I could have run away, but I didn't run, I killed it with a knife.

[She let out a screech before she did it, though, which knocked her hearing out.]

[falteringly]

[ Something sharp rises up inside him as he reads those words, and it's another instance where he should have... Castiel moves around to her side and sits with her, a bit awkward as he rests his hands atop hers. ]

There is no wrong in trying to protect yourself. Why-- [ But she shouldn't have had to. ] You could have prayed to me. [ He would have come. ]

[majestyofthethrone]

[She looks down, and she rubs her ear, trying to hear something of Castiel, something like what she used to hear, his shape, his Grace.

Everything is still so silent.]

There wasn't any time, everything was so fast.

[She looks up at him, and there's real fear there.]

I did that thing again. Like a scream.

[falteringly]

[ He looks at her, notices the way she touches her ears, and it confuses him. She's unlike anyone he's ever known before, from another world--possibly. Castiel doesn't know how to help her. He doesn't know what to do, so he gently shakes his head. ]

I don't know, Seraphim. [ And it's painful not to. ] But it doesn't have to happen again.

[majestyofthethrone]

[She just looks at him for a long moment.]

Can you bless me?

apparently i lost this tag wow

[falteringly]

[ The question is almost too startling to comprehend. No one has ever asked that of him before, and he really doesn't know how to answer. ]

I'm not sure I can.

its okay

[majestyofthethrone]

You're the only one who can. Please. Castiel. Please.

[falteringly]

[ He doesn't think that's true. He doesn't think any of this is right, and he's certain there's something to be said of an angel who's lost his way blessing someone so precious to God. Castiel sits still a moment, and then, eventually, he looks away. ]

... how would you like me to do it?

[majestyofthethrone]

[She reaches for him, presses his hands on her cheeks, to get the wetness from her cheeks on his hands, and then she puts his hand on the top of her head.]

[falteringly]

[ Castiel allows her to do whatever she wishes, realization strong as his fingers settle atop her head, and he's quiet the entire time, even when he leans close enough to rest his forehead against hers. The prayer he says isn't spoken aloud, but he doesn't think it has to be. The intent is there, and that's all they need. ]

[majestyofthethrone]

[If she could make noise, he would hear her snuffling, almost crying, but then, after a moment, she reaches and puts her arms around his shoulders, presses up into his arms and doesn't let go.

Whatever is going on with her, she needs this, she needs this contact because in a way she's starved for it.]