Chapter One
"If I had a dollar for every time you screwed up, Cas, I'd buy a Hemi Cuda... Convertible."
Groaning, Dean reluctantly rolled out of bed. The humming of the lights accompanied him as he entered the kitchen to pour himself a coffee. Nothing could shake the headache that plagued him. Getting up in the middle of the night to check up on his brother drained the man. But it was nothing he couldn't deal with. A few headaches were nothing compared to the pain Metatron would suffer soon. The man took solace in the thought of torching that traitorous SOB.
Before Dean could pursue that dark, and comforting, line of thought, he noticed the small form of another man enter the room. Castiel looked dreadful. The guy hadn't shaved in a week, so rocked an Andreas Kisser beard. If the fallen angel even opened his mouth to speak, Dean was sure he would probably punch him. The two of them hadn't said a word to each other since the 'Fall', and it was better that way. The only reason Cas was here was because Sam had a more forgiving outlook.
After a few moments of awkward eye contact with the man, Cas opened his mouth, sharply shutting it again. Toast. Yes, toast would be good. Humans ate toast all of the time. Distracting himself from the judging gaze, Castiel found himself placing bread in the microwave. Wait... That's wrong. How do humans make toast? Why don't angels learn these things, ready for having their grace ripped from them?
Out of nowhere, a large and pallid hand took the bread from the confused man, placing it in the toaster. "S'okay Cas, first time for everything, right?" The ex-angel turned to see the sickly giant, Sammy, in his brother's place. The younger man smiled gently, however, his eyes spoke a different truth. He was tired and in agony. Something was eating him from the inside, and Castiel could do nothing to help.
The two ate breakfast together in the kitchen, before heading into the main room, where Dean had set up shop surrounded by piles of ancient tomes and newspaper clippings. He was determined to send the angels back home, before they did anything truly disastrous. Some had already been pursued by police for thefts and murders, and others admitted into specialist hospitals. Unlike Cas, they had powers. They were still angels.
Clearing his throat, Sam sat opposite his brother, who gave him a soft smile before continuing research. Castiel found himself sat awkwardly at the end of the table, as far away from Dean as possible, whilst still being seated in the same room. The ex-angel slowly began reading an excerpt about Talmudic Angels, making his heart sink a little.
There was little he could read that would give him new knowledge, but there was so much he still desired to know. Every angel in history was special, and now Castiel was human, he found himself feeling out of place. At least as an angel he had someone who understood how he felt.
Suddenly, Cas found himself surrounded in light, a familiar voice calling out to him, a wild and vicious howl piercing the air.
"Cas? C'mon you son of a-" Around him, the light began to fade as the ex-angel found himself being shaken back to life by the all too familiar berating of Dean. Once his senses had finally returned, Castiel realised he was sprawled across the all-too-cold marble flooring, loomed over by the Righteous Man.
Reaching out a shaking palm, the ex-angel gripped the other man's left arm to tug himself up. "I... Apologise. It must have been a bad daydream." There was no other explanation for it. Humans did suffer from that, didn't they?
No, it seemed they didn't. Licking his bottom lip, Dean frowned, before returning to his seat. "Yeah, just don't do it again." His voice didn't sit well with Cas, who hadn't heard it in eight days, four hours and fifteen minutes. There was something wrong, other than the recent hostile air between them. The Winchester boy seemed more distant than ever, and in as much pain as his brother.
Upsetting himself with these thoughts was not constructive, the ex-angel reasoned, so made his way back to his room. However, as he shuffled down the hall, another searing blast of light struck him. And again. Before he knew it, Castiel had been thrown down the staircase leading to the bedrooms.
Panting, Castiel dragged himself into the showers, throbbing behind his eyes and ringing in his ears. Pulling himself up to the sink, he began to run both taps, and placed his face in the steaming water. Every few seconds, he'd have to remove his face from the healing liquid to breathe, and every few seconds he'd see his reflection in the mirror.
So, when Castiel saw someone not Jimmy facing him, he froze. One blink, and again faced his own reflection, before he collapsed on the cold stone flooring, falling into unconsciousness.
Ringing. Again and again. Was no one else going to answer it? Castiel found himself holding the receiver to his ear, a sharp crackle on the other end, before a recognisable voice. "Cassie, meet me at Beacon Hills, CA. Fifties diner just off the northern boulevard. Midnight." Then silence. Replacing the receiver, Castiel fell into darkness.
Groaning, the man pried himself up from the floor, mouth filled with a bitter taste. As Cas showered, he found himself wondering whether to follow the orders of that recognisable voice. It wasn't a sane plan, he didn't even know if "Angel Radio" worked on him anymore, unlike Anna, who blamed the Apocalypse. If he could contact angels, perhaps it wasn't a good idea to follow their word.
Steam from the shower cleared the ex-angel's mind, and he found himself filled with renewed purpose. Even if those were the words of a strange hallucination, Castiel would make it his job to find out the truth.
Taking one of Dean's razors, Cas hacked away at the beard he had obtained over the short space of time as a human, and looked upon his clean-shaven face anew. Selecting his usual, now washed, attire, he wore it with pride. If Castiel was going to be human and meet one of his brothers, he was at least going to do it with dignity, as a soldier should, regardless of his sins.
Re-entering the main chamber of the bunker, the ex-angel cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of the other two men. Glancing up, Dean couldn't help but grin, "Wow, Cas has finally decided to join us clean folk." Then continued reading an excerpt on Ragnarok. Sam simply smiled at Cas.
"I have decided to..." He had to word this correctly, one word and he'd probably be hit. "I have... Some connection to the angels, it seems." Castiel's heart raced. What if Dean refused to let him leave? What if he wouldn't be allowed back in? He had to make sure it didn't sound as if he was abandoning them. "I've been given a clue of where to go."
Frowning, Dean placed the book back on the table, eyes meeting Castiel's. Pursing his lips, the young man nodded. "We better get going then. Sammy, you okay with a trip to-" He glanced at Castiel.
"California."
Clearing his throat, the younger brother nodded, before getting up to pack.
As Dean headed past the ex-angel, Cas softly gripped his forearm. "I can go alone, Dean. Sam is not well..." This was responded to with a silent frown. "I need to do this alone, please."
Unable to look at the blue-eyed man directly, Dean yanked his arm from his grip. "If I had a dollar for every time you screwed up, Cas, I'd buy a Hemi Cuda... Convertible." Catching eye contact, the younger man held his steady gaze. "Do you really think I would let you go... anywhere without adult supervision after you let that squirrelly bastard cut your grace out?"
There it was. The truth. Dean knew nothing of the truth, and even less about Castiel. Trapped in stunned silence, the ex-angel watched as Dean stormed past. His grace was not a commodity to be traded, and it hurt like hellfire when it was torn from him.
Castiel then found himself storming out of the bunker, past frowning Sam, past the impala, and down into town. He could hear Dean's heavy footsteps following behind him. He could hear the yelling. He could see Dean as he tried to stop him. Then he couldn't. If Castiel were to glance behind him, he knew, he'd see Dean storm back up the hill, ordering Sam to go back inside.
Memories of this crossed the ex-angel's mind as he sat on the bus. The overly friendly, overly sweet scented woman practically sitting on his lap could not shake these thoughts. "So, where're you headed, handsome?"
Castiel frowned, "I don't know where 'Handsome' is, but I'm going to California."
The high-pitched laughter was piercing. "Oh, you're funny. So... What's in the Golden State? Your girlfriend?" One sharp shake of the head, and the woman was practically beaming. "I'm Isabella Shaw."
"Castiel."
"Well Cassie-"
"No abbreviations. Just Castiel." It was the only thing he had left, his name. He was not going to let a stranger take that from him. It just felt... wrong.
Mouthing a silent 'Okay', Isabella clasped a hand around his arm, "If you find yourself in Hollywood, call in to Hellblazers III set. Just ask for me."
Although he knew he would not, Cas gave a false nod. Although he believed conversation with Isabella would be shallow, she revealed that she had studied quantum mechanics in college, but dropped out when she found her calling in the spotlight. The ex-angel had no idea what she was talking about half the time, but her bright enthusiasm for the quantum realm of atomic and subatomic length scales, made him smile. This is what it meant to be a human.
When asked about his life, Castiel told her a little white lie. He claimed he was a writer, and that his most recent works were about an angel becoming human. For hours, he explained the past few centuries to this bright eyed young woman. When something exciting happened, she'd grip his hand, and, eventually, he was surrounded by people listening.
Once it ended, Isabella hugged Castiel tight, "You better write that story, Mister, and send me a signed copy. Or I'll hunt you down like Dreamy Dean would." Standing, the young lady tapped him on the tip of his nose and passed him her card. They bid their farewells, and, just as she stepped off, the ex-angel smiled. He could make friends on his own, he didn't need a holy purpose or to bring anyone back from Hell.
The rest of the journey was silent and a little boring, so Cas was relieved when he was finally in Beacon Hills. Stepping down from the bus, he realised the diner was just opposite the station. Quickly entering it, he found he was dead on time.
It was surprisingly crowded for midnight, but there was only one person the ex-angel noticed. The person Castiel should never have been able to see again. Sliding into the booth opposite the person, he frowned. "Gabriel."
With a cheeky smirk, Gabe flexed his eyebrows, "Cassie, I had no idea whether that would work, seeing your..." The cheeky Archangel leant in, "Performance issues." He then offered Castiel the menu, and began to slurp on his giant chocolate milkshake.
Waving over the waitress, Castiel ordered himself the Frosty's Burger and vanilla milkshake, then turned to his brother. "How are you-"
"Alive? One guess." Castiel then glanced upwards, before giving Gabe a quizzical frown. "Yep. Big man thinks I'm needed." The angel began blowing bubbles into his drink. "But you... You've been makin' waves, little brother."
Dropping his gaze, Castiel began to count the flecks on the tabletop. Maybe it was a human thing, but he had a real urge to begin folding his napkin into a dog shape.
Laughing, Gabriel jabbed the human with his straw, "Don't worry 'bout it kid. I'm not going to go all 'Hellfire and Brimstone' on you. That was more Mike and Raphi's gig anyhow." The two of them paused and a giant tray of food slid between them. "I have a proposition for you." Snatching several fries, Gabriel dipped them into his drink. "Be human."
Frowning, Cas glanced up, "I am human."
"Not what I mean, Cassie." The angel leant forwards, across the table. "I want you to get a job, marry. Do all the crap angels aren't supposed to. Run through town in nothing but baby oil. Who cares. Just be human." Leaning back into his seat, Gabriel bit into a fry and shrugged.
Shaking his head, Castiel declined. If this was all he defied Dean for, and broke Sam's trust for, then maybe they were right to hide him away. Fleeing his only family to meet a dead Archangel was bad enough, but now that angel was asking him do the unforgivable, completely abandon them.
As if reading Cas' mind, Gabe smirked, "'Snot like it's forever. Just a week experimenting. Maybe I'm asking you to do this for another reason, one that'll reveal itself through the week." If Gabriel had a message, why didn't he just tell him? Castiel knew what his big brother was like, deceptive, absolute and downright selfish. Or he used to be, before the Winchesters talked him down.
Slowly, Castiel nodded. Gabriel had died for the Winchesters, maybe he deserved to be extended the hand of trust. "A week. If you are lying, I will not stay."
"Awesome." With a cheeky grin, the Archangel stole the cherry from the human's milkshake. "Welcome to Beacon Hills Castiel Novak."