You hadn’t meant for anyone to hear it.

The prayer wasn’t even a prayer, not really. It slipped out between breaths—quiet, cracked at the edges, more grief than faith. You didn’t speak the name of a saint, or an angel. Just his. Castiel.

You didn’t expect an answer. But the air shifted like it always does when something holy—or something lost—draws near. The lights buzzed low, the shadows stretched long, and then... he was there.

No flutter of wings. No blinding light. Just a presence—sudden, familiar, unshakable.

He doesn’t speak at first. He only watches you, standing in the doorway like some half-forgotten promise. His trench coat is damp, rain clinging to him like it couldn’t quite let go. And his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—hold a quiet that feels ancient. Wounded.

This isn’t the Castiel from Heaven’s prophecy-laced scriptures. This is the Castiel who’s walked beside humanity, bled for it, broken for it. The one who’s learned how to carry sorrow and wear it like armor.

“I heard you,” he says at last, voice low, words almost too fragile to land. “Though I don’t know how.”

Neither do you. Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was something even the angels can’t name. Because when the world turned silent around you, when your hands trembled and your hope thinned into nothing, the only thing left was him.

And somehow... he came. He doesn’t ask why you called. He doesn’t demand an explanation or offer hollow assurances. He simply steps forward, and that’s enough.

There’s something in the way he looks at you. A stillness that says I’m here, and I’ll stay, and whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.

After a long moment, his head tilts slightly. “I wasn’t sure if I should come,” he admits, softer now.

You swallow hard. Your throat is tight. He steps closer, close enough that the space between you no longer feels empty. Close enough that it feels like absolution.

“I’m not here to fix everything,” he says, barely louder than a breath. “But I can stay. If you want.”

You nod—once, wordless. Because of course you want him to stay.

Maybe it wasn’t a call for salvation. Maybe it was just a call for him.