Warnings: The Dirty Jobs contains descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks and mentions autism spectrum disorders.

THEN
[08x23 Sacrifice]
With guidance from Metatron, Castiel attempted to complete the Angel Tablet trials to close the Gates of Heaven. Naomi warns Dean that Sam will die if he completes the Demon Tablet trials and closes the Gates of Hell. When Cas returned to Heaven to free Metatron, the archangel betrayed him and stole his Grace, then cast him to Earth as a human. Cas woke just in time to witness his brothers and sisters fall from Heaven.

NOW
The Dirty Jobs
Part One: Beaten

Castiel was sprawled out across the grass and dirt. On some level, he understood the events that brought him to this place on the earth. He remembered Naomi exploiting his love of humanity to capture him and her subsequent torture to obtain the Angel Tablet. He remembered the searing agony of Crowley's angel-blade-bullet and the twisting, wrenching ache of his insides as the King removed the tablet from his vessel. The angel vaguely recalled his escape and his refuge with the Winchesters.

Dean's anger, his lack of forgiveness, made recalling those few days at the Men of Letters' bunker a hazy affair. Sam Winchester's illness –

Guilt caught somewhere in his chest, and he exhaled sharply. Sam Winchester. Castiel did not ask Metatron if he could survive the trials. For all he knew, Sam was already dead, and Dean was alone.

Bitterness and anger surfaced, but there were too many other emotions competing for his limited attention. Metatron took his Grace and told him to accept this as a gift, to put the big picture, the larger plan, out of his mind. None of that was his to worry about any longer.

He opened his eyes. Cas could live with the loss of power; he had done so before. He could handle the limited ability to process his surroundings; in time, he might even be able to manage the barrage of emotions currently paralyzing and confusing him. If he could get to Dean, if Sam was still alive –

Fire burned from the sky. Had he been an angel, he would've seen what was really happening: Heaven opened up into the physical universe and a hailstorm began. He watched as each of his living siblings burned like a star, cast out from their home.

Castiel had failed the Winchesters and the angels – his family on Earth and in Heaven – too many times. He started a Civil War that killed hundreds of angels, then became drunk with the power of Purgatory and vaporized thousands more. His trespasses allowed the Leviathan back on earth, and they decimated the entire Garrison. And now, what few of his brethren remained were being hurled to earth like meteorites. Even Lucifer did not cause such horrific damage to Heaven, Earth, and his father's creation.

Guilt, shame, pain, and fear vied for his attention, but the new physical sensations of his body overwhelmed them. His stomach, his throat, his mouth all ached. He had experienced this before under the influence of Famine. He must be hungry.

His phone rang.

It was Dean Winchester.

All he had to do was push a small button. Cas could then speak to Dean and tell him that he failed to save Heaven and Sam because Metatron had tricked him. He thought he was doing the right thing, but he had been wrong.

"Yeah, you always do," Dean had replied to him the last time he tried to explain, to apologize.

With that, every iota of Castiel's resolved dissipated. If Sam was alive, the illness of the trials would have hold over him. Dean was probably calling Cas because Sam needed healing.

And Castiel no longer had any powers.

He watched as the phone's message change from DEAN CALLING to 1 MISSED CALL, then almost immediately after, 1 VOICE MESSAGE.

He had been in this vessel for years, but his Grace had maintained his sense of self, his essence. The tangy roar of hunger and the twisting sensation of thirst made it difficult to focus. The gentle undulating of his breath, the rumbling feeling of his heart – and, indeed, this was Castiel's heart, for Jimmy Novak was no longer with him – all cascaded together and overwhelmed him.

Today Cas was just a man in a trench coat under the stars. He was a curse to his family in Heaven, and he no longer had anything to offer his family on earth. Nothing but disappointment and confusion.

His heart began to flutter, and his chest tightened as if compressed. His biological impulses took over, and he began to gasp violently for air. Black spots rippled in front of his eyes, and his body wavered until some ancient reflex kicked in and he bent over from the knees. What the hell was going on?

Several minutes passed without change; his heart was beating so fast, it felt as if it would explode.

"Hey, you a'ight?" someone asked. When he did not respond, the person asked again, "Sir? Sir? Are you having a heart attack?"

Castiel intellectually knew what a heart attack was, but the symptoms escaped him.

"Cardiac arrest would have killed me by now," the former-angel replied.

"Okay, so, wha'bout a panic or anxiety attack?" the stranger continued. "My uncle used to have those."

The stranger was near enough for Cas to see him now. He was younger than he originally expected, somewhere in his early twenties. He was in a police uniform.

"I stopped when I saw the meteor shower," the officer said. "You do the same?"

"Yes," Cas wheezed.

"Hey, uh, can ya stand up straight now?"

Cas tried. His heart was still hammering and his chest still hurt. He couldn't help himself; his hands clutched his collarbones.

"Hows'about you walk with me over to the road, we get you sat down, maybe call an ambulance? They'll get you sorted," the man offered.

"Y-yes, thank you."

"I'm Xavier, but everyone calls me Vee," the man said. "You?"

"I, too, will call you 'Vee' if that is what you wish."

"No, I mean, what'cher name?"

"Oh, of course," Cas said as he followed Xavier. "You can call me Eddie."

"You ever had one 'o these before, Eddie?"

"No."

Xavier sat Castiel down at some kind of outdoor table. It took several minutes, but his breathing returned to normal and his heart rate stabilized.

"I can call you an ambulance," Xavier offered.

"No, thank you," Cas said. "I feel much better. Whatever it was, it passed. And before you found me, a friend – I'm waiting for him."

"Okay, well, I gotta go, so will you be okay here by yourself?" Xavier asked.

Castiel nodded.

He was alone by the side of the road and human. His phone rang again. He reached inside his coat and turned it off without looking. There was only one person who could be calling him.

Fear quickly precipitated shame and guilt. His fallen siblings were now all around the world, and if they didn't know he was responsible, yet they would soon find out. He couldn't burden the Winchesters with more danger – if there were, in fact, still Winchesters living.

Tears were hot and sticky on his face. Strange. He had always imagined they'd be cold.