The forlorn vessel
Jimmy Novak
Drabble/Ficlet
Jimmy had never felt worse in his whole life. He thought it had been bad to return to his body the first time, but this? Hell would have been preferred to this. His soul was bruised, his body battered. Having had to withstand things no mortal would have lived through. Castiel was gone forever. He knew it.
He had woken up somewhere far off. Somewhere he had never been in his life. Getting home had been a dreadful ordeal. He was so disoriented he didn't know what to do with himself. When he sat at the bus stop, he broke down. What had the angel done to him? Why had he let him return to himself? He would never be the same again. The remnants of what the angel had done, the imprints of the people he had met and betrayed. It was too much. He couldn't hold back the tears.
Jimmy felt dirty. Like he didn't belong in his body anymore. As if it was really Castiels'. Somehow he had managed to get home. And no he was standing before his wardrobe looking at his clothes. Looking at himself. He would never wear these clothes again.
But he could never forget them. And he couldn't burn them like he really wanted to. He ripped off the tie harshly and with anger, and hung it in the back of the closet. Dirt and blood smeared all over it. It was Castiels blood that stained the clothes he was wearing. The blue color of the tie was almost gone. Yet he knew these clothes was never going to be washed. Never.