if anyone just came here for the frickle frackle then go ahead and go to chapter 5. though you should probably read everything else too, your choice.


Chapter 1: Darkness, Then Light

[Castiel's POV]

Wait, how do I do this again. Castiel thought to himself as he stood awkwardly in front of a urinal, feeling his bladder churn in protest of the lack of relief for the past 5 hours. The public bathroom in southern New Jersey smelled dangerously of week old feces among other unspeakable things, the putrid smell stung his nose and covered his senses. But he was more intrigued than disgusted.

"Dude, what kinda hardcore drug are you on?" A gruff voice muttered followed by the trickling sound of pee running down the urinal.

Castiel flinched and snapped out of his deep thought and felt his head spin in reaction to the bright lights. His sky blue eyes focused on a buff, tall guy with a beard way too long a couple urinals to the right and stared intently at him, without blinking until his eyes felt so dry they began to tear up. "Nothing." He said curtly, emotion less.

The tall guys stifled a laugh and looked down at him deprecatingly, "yeah right. You might wanna wipe that tear away, little guy, I ain't your lord and savior, no need to get so excited." With that, he turned and walked out, the sound of heavy leather shoes echoing through the now empty bathroom in the dead of the night.

Castiel looked back down at his hands, confused and unsure of what just happened. Clumsily, he finished what he came to do and slowly made his way out. The cool spring air caressed his cheeks and for the first time he felt the tickle on his scalp of when wind blew his messy hair back. It's all too new, too foreign and he wasn't sure just how long it's going to take him to get used to it, if ever.

Surrounding him are dark suburbs, a few turned on lights here and there, dotting the surrounding like little stars. Castiel can no longer taste the individual molecules in the air and he couldn't help but feel his stomach clench in hunger at the thought of "taste" which connects to "food." Patting his pocket he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed, as he only have two dollars and a quarter…not enough to buy anything substantial, at least not until morning, when people open up their shops again. He's only been on earth as a human for a week, mainly surviving in homeless shelters along with others like him. He's met some interesting individuals, unfortunate, but intriguing never the less. He's had some nice chats and shared some heart-warming moments but more often than not, they regarded him as "that mental weirdo who's socially awkward and should keep distance from." Human expression is one of the most amusing things to him, it takes so much deciphering and thinking to fully interpret what the person is trying to convey, and some people are so good at lying that it can get difficult. That was the reason why Castiel's always staring at people; he's studying them, trying to understand.

And he just couldn't seem to understand.

Glancing at the dirty watch that he found in a dumpster a few days ago he realized that it's already 2am. His head was beginning to throb dully from the lack of sleep and he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to sooth himself from uncontrollably passing out in the middle of the street. Other than him it's just a few rats and very rarely, a car roaring pass him, radio turned on and bass vibrating through his chest. But most of the time there's no one and he felt safe enough to walk in the middle of the road instead of picking his way through large black garbage bags piled near street corners. He's making his way to an abandoned truck, where he's decided to use as a shelter for the time being. It's a short walk, approximately 10 minutes through a town called Burlington.

The fatigue or hunger or perhaps both might have caused it, but the world started to lag around him. Street lights blurred and houses around him spun; he rubbed his eyes hard to clear his mind, and when he lowered his dirty hands again, two large yellow lights were right in front of him.

—It wasn't there, and then it was. Out of nowhere.

As his eyes adjusted he realized it was too late, the bright headlights of an SUV is merely 10 feet away, getting ever closer. The harsh light blinded him as he covered his eyes with his forearm in instinct.

Tires screeching.

Horn blaring.

Crash. He felt a sharp pain as his skull hit the pavement.

And then there were none.


There was a series of beeping, echoing sound of walkie-talkies and the piercing siren of an ambulance. He couldn't open his eyes but even so, he could feel a million needles in his hand and veins. Time slowed down, his mind became fuzzy and unfocused, and once again, darkness engulfed his consciousness.


When he woke again, everything seemed so peaceful at first and then came the urgent yelling that sounded so distant and soft then proceeds to go into a crescendo then finally, a cool hand plasted on his right cheek until his head was brought up right. He gasped and felt the oxygen mask cut the skin of his stubbled chin, then his eyes fluttered open.

Alarm!

His mind warned him as he tried to bring himself up, but of course, his body refused as he felt such a terrible white hot sensation of pain burn through his skull, he winced and fell back onto the soft white pillow.

"CAS?!" the voice said again, softer this time and he could hear the relief. The hand on his face relaxed as he blinked several times, then the white ceiling was staring down at him. No – not the white ceiling staring, a man. A man whose eyes are so green with golden flakes scattered near the pupil staring right down at him, eyebrows knitted together in obvious concern.

"W-who-?" he breathed out, mind still broken up and unable to form thoughts. what happened to me? He closed his eyes and tried his best to remember. And he was scared, not because he is on the verge of dying, but because he couldn't, he couldn't remember anything! Just that now, he's in pain on a hospital with a man staring at him. Wait—no, something seems all too familiar with his deep voice and that green flannel shirt. Suddenly, a little piece of memory surfaced within his failing hippocampus, just enough for him to remember his name and the fact that, oh, he's fond of him. Slowly, Castiel smiled and tried his back to wink (although it looks more like a twitch) and croaked. "What's up, Dean?"

Dean froze as a look that's half shock and half amusement surfaced on his sharp features. His eyes widened as a cute smirked formed on his lips. Sitting more upright, he turned to a tall man standing behind him and asked, half joking. "Brother, did he seriously just say that?"

The tall man shrugged, he's wearing flannel as well, but he's a bit more buff and his brown hair is a lot longer. The thick side burns and soft hair falling and framing his sharp face perfectly. "I guess he did," he said with a little frown, blue green eyes twinkling in excitement as he took a step forward so that he's right next to Dean. "It's good to have you back, Cas."

Cas's eyes regarded the man carefully, scanning him from head to toe. He dug, he tried, he thought until his mind is on the brink of giving out on him, but he couldn't find it.

"Who are you?"

short chapter, just to try it out, if y'all like it then please let me know so I have a reason to continue it, haha, thanks.