After spending his last quarter at the laundromat, Castiel seriously questioned what he should do next. What options did he have? Besides the obvious, which was continuing living on the streets. He peered out the frosty windows at the quickly falling snow. It would be cold, he figured. Cold, a particular feeling he hadn't truly noticed as an angel on Earth. He sure noticed it now.

Being a human was strange to him, so strange in fact, it felt as if he were in a new body. He touched the glass with his hand and wasn't surprised to find it cold. He could only imagine what it felt like in full force, outside.

"Are you still using the machine?" a woman asked, startling him.

"N-no." He cleared his throat. "I'm finished."

The woman smiled and nodded at him, turning away to put her quarter in the machine. Castiel took this as a sign that he needed to leave. A bell at the top of the door rang as he exited and an unfamiliar line from a movie echoed in his head. Every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings. Not this time.

The snow fell wet in his hair and down his spine, sending shudders through his thin figure. He was dressed in a pair of very used denim jeans and a thin t-shirt, despite it being the middle of winter. The freezing temperatures brought a thought to his mind. Where was he going to stay?

He walked briskly along the now snow-covered sidewalk, down Quaking Oak Drive and onto a street called Crimson Arbour. Shivering still, Castiel entered a back alley and nearly sat on another man.

"Hey, dipshit, watch it!" the man yelled angrily. He had his back against the brick foundation of a shop and was covered in a dirty blanket. A box of steaming Chinese food was atop his lap and Cas eyed it, almost hungrily. When had he last ate? And what was it?

"What are you starin' at? Move on, this is my territory." The man shovelled noodles into his mouth with great ferocity. Castiel gawked.

"I said move on!"

"I d-don't understand." his voice shook with cold. "I have been living here for at least fourteen days."

"Nope. Get."

Castiel pondered whether he'd meant 'get' was a command or an insult. When he didn't immediately react, the gruff-looking man threw off his ratty blanket and set his food aside. "You wanna go? Get the fuck out of here! Speak English?"

It was a mistake for Cas not to answer. As the snow fell around him, an unfamiliar man's fist met Castiel's cheek, hard. He stumbled back, gasping and watching his breath form white clouds in front of him. Another punch nailed him hard in the nose, possibly breaking it.

"S-stop, pl-please." the former-angel begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You got it? Leave, Jesus Christ."

"I am not Jesus Christ. My name is-"

A swift kick directed towards Castiel's ribs instantly silenced him. He didn't understand humans or their strange, violent ways.

By the time Castiel managed to get out of the alley, it was near 12:00 AM and his face sported a significant amount of blood. Few cars passed him as he trudged through the thick snow, sniffling. His nose was running and he didn't know what was wrong with it. His first conclusion was a malfunction of his vessel but there was no vessel. Only himself. Shivering, he sniffed again.

Shivering wasn't the only thing that plagued him, however. He felt fatigued and on the verge of collapse. Thankfully, he didn't feel cold anymore. Castiel's skin burned, practically giving off a heat of his own. He frowned. This couldn't be normal either.

It was getting harder and harder just to walk through the snow drifts and Cas considered stopping for the night when he saw something familiar. In the parking lot of the local Lieutenant Burger ("We take orders and serve you!"), a 1967 Chevy Impala sat comfortably in a parking space. It couldn't be… Dean?

Castiel shuddered and decided with a firmness that he hated the cold. One foot following the other, he made it to the car and was disappointed to find it empty. He gripped the car door handle, weakly pulling at warning, his knees buckled and he collapsed in the snow.

Prompt: Cas gets stuck in a snowstorm and gets sick for the first time.

AN - Another story for you, only this time, I think it'll be a multi-fic. I received this prompt from Singstar4 so this is for you! :) Hope you like it! I decided to set the fic during winter in season eight, when Castiel comes to the bunker. Instead of being kicked out, I'm going to have Dean sort of beg "Ezekiel" to let him stay. Read and review if you have time and I hope you guys have a great night. I'll try to update this every day. If you have any requests for the fic, lemme know in the comments. Love you guys!