Blue eyes frantic for more, pale skin drawn taunt, dry lips sucking the last crumb of wheat from a sandwich wrapper. Castiel, former angel of heaven, felt fear well up inside him and claw out his throat in a whimper. He had to get more meat or else something bad would happen. He yearned it, craved for it in a way that left him breathless. It felt like a vise was squeezing his heart one piece at a time. He need more.
Castiel felt his body shaking as he walked - blinking as he tried to focus on the ground - making his way towards the 1967 Impala where Dean Winchester was waiting in patient silence. The man's knees were growing weaker as his vision flickered between color and gray. Castiel needed more, just a few more steps. With the sound of a breath and wings the angel disappeared.
Several seconds later Dean turned his head to greet the angel that had appeared in the car's passenger seat. He spied the bag and sandwich with a frown.
"How many is that?"
Castiel felt his shoulders relax in ecstasy as he bit into the food. "Low hundreds."
Sometimes the angel wondered if it would be better to return to his angelic state and weather through this case, letting the Winchester's take over. He could not do that, however, because that would leave Jimmy in even greater danger. As a supernatural being he could control some of the urges, and so he stayed. Dean turned his attention to the far side of the road as a man exited the clinic. Castiel tried to push back the euphoric feeling brought to the forefront of his host's mind with every taste of the meat. It was addictive and lethal. The angel hoped that a solution could be reached before he gave in completely.
-THE END