Waking up. A dreaded thing that eventually has to happen in order for people to make their lives useful. It makes the single person cringe outwardly, just thinking about that day to come, and it makes everyone else in the world grumpy.
Yet, the first example seems to match Castiel more every single day of the year.
He wakes up every morning at 4:30 AM in order to actually get ready for his day. His usual morning routine takes fifteen minutes exactly, not including breakfast. Breakfast takes another fifteen minutes, counting the cooking, eating, and cleaning process.
Castiel's routine is strict and he has to follow it in order to make sure he is ready for the day. It consists of waking up, going to the bathroom, and dressing. Each thing is usually three minutes to seven minutes to five minutes. Eating is always a regular schedule, just so he doesn't have to deal with missing out on his breakfast.
If he accidentally skip breakfast because he's running late- for some reason- then he wouldn't be able to function through the day. He wouldn't be able to function because he knows that he missed out on one of the most important things in his morning. He knows that he cannot deal with that fact. He has to do his routine in order to survive in this hell of a life that everyone lives.
The problem is, he knows that he has a fantastic life. His parents "left" after college with the amount of money that he would ever need in order to live a high profile life. He was CEO in one of the biggest technology companies around the world. He lived in the highest, most expensive apartment complex just outside of New York with his brother Gabriel and a little cat named Snowflake that he loved to death. He had it good, so what was his problem?
3.3 million people suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder in the United States. That might not be the largest of numbers, but thinking about how rare the disease is, it's a large number. He is, indeed, one of those people. His doctor had stated when he was younger that his OCD was so severe that he had mental breakdowns and could not function for hours, possibly days, on end.
He believes that he had gotten better due to constant therapy sessions and a brother who took care of him constantly.
He hates this life. This constant coying feeling in the middle of his stomach that cringes at the thoughts of something being unclean. He hates the cleanliness of it all, all the techniques and routines that scratch at his head when something falls out of line.
Even though he hates it, he can't get rid of it. It gets worse with every passing day that he tries to ignore it. When the routines stop, he itches and scratches and becomes extremely irritable.
Things around him become blurred and he zones out, thinking about the number of germs is sitting on the surface of his skin at this very moment. This causes days on end of him leaving work without telling anyone and driving home, only to sit in the shower for hours, rubbing at layers and layers of skin until he's red and shaking.
When he finally leaves the bathroom, the night has come and his entire apartment is dark, except for the light beaming out from behind his shaking body. He walks to his bedroom, plops down on his bed and sleep, hoping that he would die in the small amount of time he has until his next alarm goes off.
His eyes pry themselves open as moonlight slowly trickles in from the open blinds. His body prepares itself for another day, sluggishly tensing and relaxing. His body is still shaking and red from the night before, but he feels somewhat clean and that's all he really needs to feel.
He crawls from the bed and his feet hit the cold hardwood. Right as his feet land on the floor, Snowflake, the black cat he rescued, rushed up to his feet and made it impossible to move a couple of feet. Everything is frigid, but he simply basks in the chill the hugs his body and the warmth of Snowflake around his ankles.
Heat only makes it a better place for germs to grow.
He stands in my kitchen, bare naked, letting the cold of the fridge embrace him. He doesn't remember ever accepting anything quite like this and he loves it.
Castiel was just about to reach into the fridge just as the doorbell rings. He drags himself to the door, not bothering about clothes; if the person wanted to bother him while he was on a strict time schedule, then they would get the sights.
He swung open the door, the look of pure disgust plastered on his face. It was even colder in the hallway, the air conditioning on full blast through the building. The person on the other side was beaming and didn't even seem to mind that his dick was swinging in the wind. The person was a woman that looked as if she was around 27. Her hair was bright, fiery red, swinging down and caressing her shoulders. Her face was stretched around a fake smile, her eyes crinkling at the edges.
She was simply trying far too hard.
Castiel cringed away from her as she put her hand out for him to shake. Castiel smiled carefully, his hand shaking as he reached out to grab onto her pointer finger.
Her smile dropped as she put her hand down, yet she was still so full of energy, not even fazed by the fact that he had rudely accepted her handshake. "Hiya!" Her high pitched voice pierced his ears and he cringed outwardly.
He knew he was being rude by the look she got. Her smile had dropped for a mere second before she looked back up and seemed completely unfazed once again.
Castiel looked her up and down and then stared back at her face. She seemed calm, but also so excited that she looked like she was going to hop out right into his arms at any given second.
"Hello," Castiel spoke carefully and leveled. He didn't want to act too much of a bad person, but he surely didn't want her to get the wrong idea. He was not into women, but he must admit that she was young and beautiful.
"The name's Charlie. I just moved here from Kansas. I've never truly lived in a 'big city' before, so I was hoping that one of my neighbors could possibly show me around the big city while we're awake." Her voice was nice the longer he listened to her. Castiel was finding that he enjoyed being in her company. She was a quirky woman, but he found that the best people in his life were odd, especially his brother.
An annoyed "Meow" lights up from below him. He leans down quickly to scoop up Snowflake in his arms and cuddle her close.
Instead of introducing himself as a normal person would, he decided on the flawless words, "You do realize it's 4:30 in the morning, correct?" Charlie looked surprised for a moment before she laughed it off.
She checked her watch and continued to laugh even harder. "So it is! I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize. I just got it so I must still be on Kansas time." She backed away from the door and spoke softly, "I live right next door if you ever want to check up on me. Sorry for interrupting ya." She pointed to my still revealed junk that was out for the entire hallway to see.
He crawled back into his apartment and nodded at her. As she was leaving, he mustered up the small amount of courage that he had left and said, "Stay until I have to go to work. I have around 2 more hours. I'd love to get to know you more, Charlie." She smiled brightly and nodded. He welcomed his neighbor into his apartment and we got breakfast ready; eggs and bacon like he usually had.
Charlie was, simply put, a great person to be around. She was easy-going and always had something interesting to talk about. Snowflake absolutely adored her new cuddle buddy, just as much as Castiel enjoyed the new company that he was finally getting.
He felt something growing in his chest and milling uncomfortably in his stomach as he continued to sit there with Charlie. He just didn't understand what. Castiel just really enjoyed being with Charlie and in this conversation with her.
Suddenly, he was snapped back into reality with the entire force of his schedule beating down on him like morning sunrays. He stood from his seat, knocking it back in the process.
"You should go, Charlie," He quickly grabbed her jacket and held it out for her to take. Her eyes were squinted and her head was tilted slightly as she gazed up at her newly found friend. She was still seated.
He was late for work and he was still naked from this morning. He needed to get going. He needed to get ready for his day, even though his day had already started. She didn't understand; she would never understand. She needed to leave his house and leave him alone to bask in the sadness and self-deprivation that he blanketed himself in.
"Cas," she stood and walked over to him, her hand outstretched as she would to a hurt animal. "Castiel, what's goin' on? I didn't upset you, did I?" She was confused but she could never truly understand what he was going through. Not entirely. She would never fully develop the feeling that he was experiencing. Her face fell. "I upset you." She looked down at her shoes and, without a word, left his apartment. The door slammed shut behind her.
Castiel stared at the closed door as he leaned back and sat on the couch. He held his head in his hands and just wept. He cried like the small child that he thought he was. He realized that he was not able to successfully keep himself afloat while also taking care of everything else in the world.
Horribly, self-deprecating thoughts flooded his head. He wasn't capable of doing anything. He was just as worthless as a child who was learning how to walk. Which doesn't make any sense since he was fully aware that he could walk. He knew that he finally was conscious enough to stand and get ready to be late for work. His day was already ruined so why not try and go to work anyway?
He dressed in his usual suit and tie and walked out the door, right passed Charlie who sat next to the door.
It was frigid, truly. The frost froze the few patches of grass that stood and ice hung low on banners and awnings. He wrapped his coat tighter around his cold body and hoped that it would keep the chilling wind out. It didn't work and Castiel was left feeling nothing in his fingers and toes. He quickly hailed a cab and crawled in, praising a non-existent god that the driver had turned on the heat in the below freezing weather. Castiel smiled kindly at the cab driver as he turned around and he was graced with a beautiful face.
The taxi driver was a sight and Castiel was a tourist that couldn't look away. The man had sharp blue eyes like Castiel's, with high cheekbones and short blond hair. He turned back around and Castiel slumped back in his seat, praying that he would face Castiel once more before the ride was over so he could bask in the sunlight that shone in his smile on the cold, cloudy day ahead of his.
As he left the warm cab and was immediately encompassed in the cold air, he wished that the cab would turn back around and just sit in front of his building. He covered himself as best as he could with an overcoat and sprinted into the building. He pushed open the doors, almost falling when the doors were opened on the opposite side. Warm arms wrapped around Castiel's upper body and he gasped when a warm hand encompassed his bicep. He was very much appreciative for the stranger he had just fallen into and slipped a little more into a warm body. He knew his face must have been red as he looked up, prepared to scream and yell at this person that was standing in his way. Yet, the sound escaped him as he looked into the apple green eyes that stared down into blue oceans. The man took his hand back and immediately threw it out to shake Castiel's.
"I'm sorry about that," he spoke. "I didn't realize when someone was coming in since the windows are so dark." Castiel opened his mouth to respond to him or at least comment, but the sound escaped as soon as his lips parted. He laughed a little and leaned down a little. "My name's Dean. Dean Winchester."