Diclaimer: I still don't own characters, storylines, or anything except for angsty baggage...
Author's Note: So, I've got another Supernatural short for you! I have a second part partially planned, and I might post it depending on how this story goes. Anyway, thanks for reading, guys. Please review!
Becoming human was far more horrible than Castiel let on.
And there were some times where he felt he let on far too much.
There were the times that were easy to conceal. How he'd get a minor migraine after 'teleporting' anywhere. Or if he smote demons, he would hear a ringing in his ears - his own diminishing grace turning briefly against him and crying out to be heard.
There were times when Castiel could hear his vessel's shout in the back of his head and it became ever so much harder to ignore, even though it grew quieter and quieter as time went on and his grace became less and less.
And as time went on, there were the times when Castiel would collapse after appearing in Bobby Singer's living room and Bobby, Dean, and Sam would have to drag him to the couch and hold him down as he thrashed about and shouted and broke a few light bulbs. All this because he could feel his wings fading in and out of existence, and it hurt. It was agonizing. It was after those times and questioning looks and maybe even a shred of concern, that Castiel took up the human concept of lying. Always claiming a demon or one of his siblings had caught him in a fight, and he was better, now.
Dean always seemed the most skeptic, but then the skepticism melted away soon as the angel was needed for something again.
When Castiel was asked to time travel, he knew it would be bad. It took all the strength he possessed to bend the layers of time and pull the Winchesters through without any injuries to them. This ended up leaving him with ringing in his ears, Jimmy Novak's screams pounding against his skull, and his insides - the angelic parts as much as the human - burned. But at least he'd prepared for worse. He said as much to the Winchesters before he felt a metallic taste build up in the back of his throat and he had just enough time to choke it out of his mouth before the 'worse' he was expecting washed over him and he fell into darkness.
Upon waking up in a strange room, Castiel could hear angels proclaiming the news - their voices were a few decades younger, and yet faintly he could recollect the older ones from his timeline - brother Michael had made an intervention to save his vessel. And somewhere on a lesser note, a few mourned the death of Anna.
In a rush of unwelcome, unaccustomed emotion, Castiel had felt a horrible torment in his chest he'd never felt before. His heart - Jimmy's, the human one - felt heavy, and it felt as though he was empty inside. Just as fast as it had come, it was gone, replaced by the ringing, screaming, burning, and even with all that, Castiel was able to be startled at the droplet of water that had fallen down his cheek.
And after that was the miserable flight back to the present. In his pounding head, he doubted severely that he could even make it halfway before spiraling out of reality and ending it all early. There was a long moment of confusion that took him over when he realized he had in fact made it back to Sam and Dean, both of which were helping him stand.
The room was spinning, his grace was flickering, Jimmy was screaming, his insides were burning, his wings were once again beginning the painful cycle of spasming in and out of existence, and he promptly passed out once more.
There came the horrendous recovery after all that, and Castiel would later wonder how it was possible to remember all of it so clearly and in such detail, even as more time passed.
The Winchesters had tried to help where they could, but honestly, they didn't know what was wrong or how to fix it, and Castiel hadn't the clear headedness at the time to tell them.
Sam and Dean had dragged him into the Impala. As soon as the drive began, they'd had to stop frequently to let the angel heave up several mouthfuls of blood, and then be on the road again. When they arrived at Bobby's, the man took one look at the angel slumped between the brothers, sighed, and brought extra pillows and blankets to the couch. They had forced water down his throat and tried to soothe him when they could, but ultimately Castiel had to struggle through it on his own.
Perhaps the worst part, aside from all the pain, was the nightmares. Angels didn't dream, didn't sleep, but Castiel spent so much time unconscious, that the nightmares and memories found him. These spurts of being awake and then not made it hard to tell memories of Zachariah torturing him apart from his three caretakers telling him to just take another sip of water and to hold on.
And just three days from when he had landed in the brothers' motel room, all of the torment disappeared, leaving the angel tired and anxious to escape the humility of being entirely helpless and in the hands of three unqualified humans.
When his grace left him altogether, it was like all of the pain he'd experienced in the past months returned all at once. He slammed his hand against the sigil on his chest, and he felt indescribable agony as his grace burned out entirely and his wings were torn from his body and all planes of existence.
And then Castiel woke in a hospital in a new kind of pain. Not as bad, but just as horrible as new sensations and feelings and needs arose within him. He hurt and ached and was thirsty. He could no longer hear Jimmy Novak at all and where his grace should be, there was nothing but a pit of empty. He felt weak and helpless and it was as if his senses had been dialed down from one-hundred to negative four. And without the sounds of his sibling's voices or really any feeling of connection to the Host above, he felt terribly, painfully alone.
Traveling slowly was bad enough without the new feeling of anxiety and fear eating him up as he thought about the Winchesters facing Pestilence. Of course, his fears were confirmed upon arriving to help, but he was instantly attacked by a wave of nausea that was also new and now also terrifying to him. But he saw the brothers on the ground and new he had to be strong, had to prove he could still be useful, and he succeeded in relieving a horseman of a finger.
It was the first time he truly felt human satisfaction.
Bobby was right, he shouldn't complain. After all, Dean, Bobby, Sam; they had all been human all of their lives. However, Castiel almost felt like reminding the older hunter that Castiel was thousands of years older, and he had spent all of those years as a holy and powerful being from heaven.
And now he was human.
He had long since learned that humans were far stronger and smarter than he had used to believe, but they were still that. Human.
And now he was too, and honestly, it was far more overwhelming and horrible than he let on.
But this time he wanted to make sure to not let on anything.
Being ripped apart by his older brother - one whom he used to look up to and love immensely - was surprisingly quick. A split second of pain and then nothing. Just darkness that he was oddly aware of, unsure of how time was passing or if there was even time at all. It could have been years or milliseconds for all he knew before he was suddenly put back together.
Completely.
His grace had returned. Completely.
He was an angel again.
Completely.