Castiel sat and listened to the silence. He could feel the breath slide between his lips, but the sound was eaten by the darkness. Outside, the snowy ghosts of trees stood like pillars lining the road.
"Dean?" His voice, little more than a whisper, cut too loud through the quiet.
"What?" The hunter sounded irritated, not that that was new. Cas had gotten the sense, ever since he'd lost his grace, that he was only just being tolerated. He had outlived his usefulness to the Winchesters and though neither brother would say it outright, they had their ways of letting him know.
"Dean, could you, pull over for a moment?"
"Why?"
"I need to relieve myself."
"Jesus Cas, are you serious?"
"Please, Dean, it's urgent. I'm human you know, I have needs."
"But do you need to take care of it right now?"
Sam sighed in his sleep.
"Yes Dean, I do."
The car veered suddenly to the shoulder, slammed to a stop, shaking Sam from his sleep.
"Wh- what's going on?" He muttered.
"Cas just discovered his bladder."
"I'm sorry Dean-" Castiel began.
"Whatever," Dean muttered, "Just get out and do your business."
Cas obeyed. He opened the door and stepped out into the biting cold. He felt cold now. As he unzipped his fly and did what he'd set out to do, he tried to ignore the icy needles that seemed to be stabbing at every inch of him.
He finished, climbed into the back sea of the Impala.
"Finished?" Dean's voice was a knife blade.
"Yes." Castiel settled into his seat.
"Good. Now try and get some sleep, somebody should." The car started up again and soon they were back on the road, the eastern horizon already touched with grey.
After some hours the silence got to be too much. Sam still slept in his seat, his heavy breathing the only sound save the rumbling of the tires on the uneven highway. The sun was beginning to rise over the tops of the trees, its bloody birth lit the whole snowy world in shades of red.
"Dean?" His voice was low, almost inaudible.
"What is it Cas? Don't tell me you have to use the bathroom again."
Part of him wanted to point out that there had been no bath and no room where he had satisfied that need before. "No," was all he said.
"Then what now? You hungry? Bored? 'Cause I'm not in the mood to hear it right now Cas, in case you didn't notice I've been driving all damn night."
"Dean, I think maybe I should leave."
"What?" This was almost a laugh.
"I think maybe I should-"
"Damn it Cas! I heard you the first time, but why? What's got you spewing this crap?"
Castiel looked down at his hands. He thought about the past couple of weeks. They had been uneventful enough. They had hunted a ware wolf in New Mexico and Cas had slipped up. The thing had nearly taken his arm off and Dean had told him that next time he could wait in the car. Every night he slept on motel couches, hoping his breathing wasn't too loud. He had no time to miss his grace, to embrace his newfound humanity.
"You don't need me." He said.
"Don't be stupid."
"It's true Dean. You know it, I know it."
"I don't know what you're talking about." The hunter's voice was light, or superficially so.
"Dean, I want to leave, to go off on my own."
"No."
"Dean,"
"No, and that's final. Nobody's going anywhere, okay?"
"Dean, please,"
"Cas, I'm tired, it's been a long night, just stop it with the crazy talk already."
Castiel fell silent again. He had so much he wanted to say and so few words to express it. His insides churned with thoughts he couldn't voice. They stopped once for gas. Dean got a coffee, 'spiced it up' with something from a flask. It was not for another hour, during which time Sam awoke, before they stopped at a diner for breakfast.
Castiel stared down at his eggs and bacon. He had wasted the novelty of food on greasy gas station atrocities, microwave meals, and takeout. Now, getting nutrition was a task he must complete in order to stay alive. Across the table, Dean was wolfing down his breakfast, drinking another 'spiced up' coffee.
"Eat, Cas." Dean looked up at him.
"I'm not especially hungry."
"Oh, bull crap. Eat. We're gonna drive through a big stretch of nothing today, I can't promise we'll be able to stop for lunch."
"That's fine, Dean. But if it's all the same to you, I'd like to continue our conversation from earlier."
"What- no. There's nothing to discuss, I already told you no."
"Wait" Sam cut in, "What discussion?"
"Cas wants to go off on his own." Said Dean.
"What? Cas, don't be stupid." Both Winchesters were now looking at him.
Castiel frowned. He had expected this reaction. Of course they would deny his uselessness. That didn't mean that they didn't believe it. They wouldn't tell him the truth. That didn't mean he didn't know it.
They drove through a great part of Utah that day. There wasn't much to see. The snow covered everything like icing on a cake, less appetizing where the road met it and ground it into brown slush. There was not much in the way of conversation. Not that there ever was. Dean blasted the radio, as always. Cas had yet to develop a taste in music but he didn't think this would fit it.
It wasn't until past midnight that they pulled into a roadside motel for some much needed sleep. Sam worried they would be too late. The Demon they were hunting might already have fled. The Winchesters booked a room with two beds. Two beds and a couch for Castiel.
"Cas," Dean said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "We done with all that crazy talk?"
Even the warmth and the weight of Dean's hand, the little sparks of feeling that shot through him at the touch, could not strengthen Castiel's resolve. Nevertheless he muttered a "yes".
"Good," said Dean, "Cause there's only so much stupid I can take. Night Cas."
"Goodnight Dean."
Castiel settled onto his couch-bed with no intention of sleep.
It was at times like this when he missed his wings most. Though the padded carpet swallowed his footfalls, The walk between his make-shift bed and the door was too long. There was too much time to think about what he was doing. He could hear Sam and Dean's heavy breathing. There was a soft rustling as Dean rolled over in his sleep and Castiel had to fight the urge to look on the hunter one last time. No. That would only tempt him from what he knew he must do. He reached the door, let himself out into the snowy night and guided the door closed again, slowly, so as not to make a sound.