Note: This is from season 9, and obviously there's canon divergence. But most importantly Cas ends up wandering the country instead of finding a job, because let's face it, getting a job is hard enough even when you have the correct paperwork. Also Cas is initially rescued by Sam and Dean before he sleeps with the reaper, just because I hated that.
Warning: Certain chapters in the story stretch the M rating in the violence and hanky panky departments. If you're worried about that, please don't read any further!
Sam was sitting in the bunker, scouring the Internet for any sign of the former angel, the same thing he'd been doing all day, every day since Cas had disappeared. He couldn't understand why Cas had left the bunker, but he was determined to find him and bring him home. It wasn't safe for him out there, and Sam was acutely aware that the angel-turned-human had no idea how to keep his newly mortal body alive and in one piece.
On the one hand Sam was glad that he couldn't find any sign of Cas, because every avenging angel from Heaven and all the demons in Hell were also scouring the planet for him, and some of them would also know how to use the Internet. On the other hand, where the hell was he?!
Sam ran his fingers through his hair, noting with resignation the clumps that came out in his shaking fingers. The trials had taken more of a toll on him than he wanted to admit, and his worry for Cas was making it worse. He couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up pain and anxiety free. Dean kept fussing over him like a mother hen over its chick and it was driving Sam crazy; especially since Dean couldn't seem to muster the same concern for his supposed best friend, who was undoubtedly in more danger than Sam was.
His brother was out now, working a case on his own, and Kevin was locked away in a room somewhere because Sam had apparently been 'tapping the keyboard too loudly.' Sam was just glad to be left alone to continue his search without the constant admonishments about sleeping and eating.
The unending cycle of useless thoughts was broken by the phone ringing. Sam jumped in surprise, before picking it up and puzzling over the unknown number.
"Hello?" he asked, tentatively.
"Sam?" asked a familiar, gravelly voice.
Sam leaped into the air, knocking his chair over in his haste. "Cas?" he whispered, hardly daring to hope. "Cas! Castiel, angel, where are you? I've been searching for you everywhere!"
"I'm in some town called Colorado Springs," Cas said, sounding infinitely tired. "I just wanted to call and see… how you were doing. I remembered your number," he added, sounding obscurely proud of that achievement.
"Cas," Sam said, trying to sound calm. "Cas, I need you to listen to me very carefully, and follow my instructions to the letter. Do you understand me?"
"Sam?" Cas asked, sounding confused.
"Do. You. Understand. Me?" Sam gritted out, all intentions of sounding calm evaporating instantly. "Castiel, if you don't do what I tell you now, I swear I will hunt you down, drag your ex-feathery ass back here and throw you in the dungeon for the rest of your mortal lifespan. Now, will you do as I say?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line. He held his breath.
"Yes," Cas said, sounding suitably subdued.
"Good," said Sam, letting his breath out in a gusty sigh of relief. "Now, Cas, is there a diner nearby? Can you see one?"
"Yes, across the street."
"OK, what's its name?" Sam picked the chair back up and started typing the name into Google as Cas dutifully read it out. "Right, I want you to go to that diner, and stay there until I come get you. I'll be a few hours, but do not leave for any reason. Any reason. I don't care if World War Three breaks out, you stay in that diner until I get there, ok?"
After extracting several promises to stay put from an increasingly confused and exasperated Castiel, Sam hung up and quickly finished looking up the diner. He dialed the number with shaking hands, hoping to either charm or bribe someone into keeping an eye on his ex-angel until he got there. Because, despite Cas's assurances, Sam did not trust him to stay put, and he was not going to lose him again.
"Hello, Highway Diner, Janice speaking."
"Janice," the hunter said, trying to get his voice under control. "My name is Sam. I know this is unusual, but I need to ask you a favor."
"Sure honey, what do you need?" the woman asked kindly.
"My cousin will be walking through the door any second now; he just called me from a payphone. His name is Cas; he has black hair and blue eyes. He's a bit… not all there. I've been looking for him for weeks. I was hoping… would you be able to give him some food, and keep an eye on him? I'll be there as soon as I can, I just… I need to know he'll be ok until then."
Sam held his breath. Please, please.
"Don't you worry yourself one little bit," the woman said, firmly. "I see the poor lad coming in now. I'll take good care of him."
"Bless you," Sam whispered into the phone, hanging up and sprinting for the bunker's garage.
Sam practically bolted into the diner, forcing himself to slow down as he looked for Cas, trying not to let the anxiety show on his face. He spotted him immediately, sitting at a corner table, looking dejectedly into the mug in his hands. A couple of empty plates sat on the table and Sam sighed with relief at this indication that the former angel had been taken care of. He was across the room almost as fast as if he had angel wings himself.
"Cas, hey Cas, are you ok?" Sam asked anxiously, crouching down beside his friend, a hand on his shoulder. Cas looked at him somewhat blearily and Sam wondered how often he'd slept since becoming human.
"Sam," Cas said in greeting, his familiar husky voice now sounding even rougher. "It's good to see you."
Sam smiled in relief, squeezing his friend's shoulder slightly in reassurance. "And you, Cas. Now, before we go, which waitress looked after you? Where's Janice?"
Cas looked around before pointing over to a woman in her early fifties, with short gray hair and a kind face, who was cleaning the ice-cream machine.
"Ok, Cas. I need to go say thank you. You stay here, sweetheart, ok? Don't move." Cas nodded as Sam rose and went over to the woman he had so much cause to be thankful towards.
"Janice?" he asked her. When she turned to look at him he smiled and put out his hand. "I'm Sam, we spoke on the phone. Thank you so much for looking after my cousin, I've been searching for him and…" Sam was surprised when his voice hitched a little, and he felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. Janice looked at him sympathetically.
"It was no trouble, Sam. He was no bother and I was happy to help," Janice squeezed his hand gently, and Sam was filled with a warm affection for her.
"I see you gave him something to eat, this should cover it," Sam said with a smile, pressing a wad of cash into the surprised woman's hand. Before she could protest he was gone, gripping Cas by the shoulder as he steered him out of the diner and towards the car.
They didn't say a word on the drive to the motel. Sam felt a treacherous tear run silently down his cheek and didn't trust himself to speak. Cas for his part seemed to be either asleep or at least completely out of it. When they got to the motel Sam checked them in and got the purchases he'd stopped for on the way to get Cas, begrudging every second. When they reached their room the hunter and the former angel regarded each other properly for the first time.
Sam felt his breath hitch, Cas looked awful. His normally piercing blue eyes were dull from lack of sleep, his skin was sallow and his borrowed clothes hung off his lanky frame like a sheet on a child. Sam looked down into his friend's eyes for a long moment, before pulling him into a rough hug. He felt Cas let out a shuddering breath and relax against him, as if letting go of some great burden. They stood like that for longer than Sam knew was appropriate, but he was unwilling to let go, fearing that if he did Cas would disappear and this would all turn out to be a dream born from desperation.
"Thank you for coming to get me, Sam," Cas said at last, stepping back. He looked down, seeming ashamed. "I'm afraid I don't make a very good human."
Sam snorted with laughter, and Cas looked up, confused. "Cas," he said, "I'm not a very good human, and I've been practicing for over thirty years. You've been one less than thirty days. Give it time."
A tiny smile graced the corner of Cas's mouth and Sam felt his spirits lift in response. The former angel was the first to break eye contact and Sam blushed, realizing he'd been staring. He hoped Cas was still new enough to humaning not to read too much into his behavior since he'd fetched him from the diner.
"Now," he said, covering up his sudden embarrassment with a business-like attitude, "first things first. Sit on the edge of this bed." Cas complied, without a whimper of complaint. He frowned but didn't protest as Sam took out a thermometer and instructed him to hold it under his tongue. The hunter grabbed the former angel's wrist and looked at his watch while Cas stared at him with wide eyes.
After thirty seconds Sam released his friend's wrist. "A little fast," he muttered, before smiling at the ex-angel. "But that's normal after what you've been through, and considering I'm manhandling you." He gently took the thermometer out of Cas's mouth and looked at it. "Good," he murmured. A number of other little tests followed, Cas was passive through all of it, which was beginning to worry Sam more than his physical state. Cas was many things but 'passive' and 'compliant' had never been two of them.
"Do you have any injuries, Cas?" Sam asked him gently. Cas nodded reluctantly, and Sam's heart skipped a beat.
"Show me," he commanded.
Cas pulled the faded shirt over his head obediently and turned his back. Sam sucked in a breath. Cas's left shoulder blade was a mess; it looked like he'd been dragged across a gravel surface on it. It seemed to have happened fairly recently, the wound looked raw and nasty but not infected.
Sam bit his tongue, hard. There would be plenty of time to ask questions later. Plenty of time to find out who'd hurt his angel, and take them apart piece by piece. First, he needed to make a few things clear to his newly-human friend.
"Castiel," he said, his tone a warning that he intended the former angel to take him seriously. Cas turned to look directly at him, and Sam shivered. Having Cas's undivided attention was unnerving, even without his earth-shattering powers.
"You can't let wounds like this go untreated. The wound itself might not kill you, but an infection could. Ok?"
His friend nodded, a defeated expression on his face that made Sam feel sick to his stomach.
"Let's get you cleaned up, and then we'll have a little lesson on taking care of wounds, ok?" Sam said, gentling his tone a little. He pulled the former angel up from the bed and guided him to the bathroom. Cas didn't seem to mind being bossed around, which was lucky because Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to stop fretting over his friend for a while yet. He felt a sudden sympathy for Dean; maybe he needed a lesson from Cas on being patient when people were fussing needlessly over you.
Sam grabbed Cas a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and a towel with some soap. "Do you know how to use the shower?" he asked, trying not to sound patronizing, but needing to be sure. It certainly smelled like Cas hadn't seen a shower since leaving the bunker. Cas nodded again. Then nodded a bit more firmly when Sam hesitated. Eventually the hunter backed out of the bathroom and allowed his friend to get on with tending to the needs of his now entirely human body.
Cas looked at the shower in bemusement. He sighed. He hadn't wanted Sam to know that this shower was different from the ones at the shelter, and the one at the bunker. It hurt his pride that he'd had to rely on Sam so heavily already, although it felt so good to be fussed over and taken care of. There hadn't been a lot of affection or care in his life. That hadn't seemed to matter when he was an angel, but now he was human Cas was acutely aware of an empty ache that he couldn't put a name to.
Castiel the Angel of the Lord had never not been able to take care of himself. He had lived for millennia, seen the birth and death of entire solar systems, been in innumerable battles, and had watched over the humans since the first fish walked out on to the land. But it was now clear to Cas that for all the countless centuries of his vigil, he'd never truly understood his charges. He understood now. Oh, how he understood. It was maddening, the cold, the heat, the dirt, the smell, the hunger, the thirst; it was an unending cycle of misery.
No, Castiel had not enjoyed being human. That is, not until Sam had put his fingers on his wrist and taken his pulse. The physical sensation of being touched so caringly; a warm hand on his arm, the gesture of concern and friendship, it had sparked something in his now-human heart. A warmth that spread like a fire from where Sam had held his wrist, all the way to his toes. Cas didn't understand what that feeling meant, but the comfort he'd felt from it had been undeniable.
He glared at the shower. Instead of two taps it was one stick looking thing. Humans! Why didn't everything with the same function look the same? He pushed and pulled experimentally at the metal stick until a spray of water came out of the shower head. A stream of very hot water. He jumped back with a yelp, and immediately the door was open. Cas felt his neck heat up as he realized Sam had been hovering just on the other side of the door, waiting for any sound of distress. He bowed his head and waited for the derision the men at the refuge had shown when he couldn't figure out simple things, like buttons. 'Touched' they had called him.
But Sam just gave him a quick smile, and reached over to shut off the water.
"You can just ask me, you know," he chided gently. "That's what friends are for. I thought you'd have trouble with this one. Look, like this. You push it towards the red for hot, the blue for cold. Push it in to stop it, pull it out to start it. Always start a little bit cold, and work it back towards a temperature you like, or else you might burn yourself."
Sam turned around and looked at him, and Cas saw only gentle concern in his friend's face, no hint of mockery. Cas felt a tell-tale prickling behind his eyes and bitterly reflected on all the times he'd seen humans cry, never understanding the strength of emotion that triggered the bodily reaction. Sam somehow sensed his discomfort and left him alone to continue his shower, and Cas wondered how his friend had known that a friendly touch or word would have undone him right then.
He wondered if he'd ever understand the subtle nuances of human interaction that seemed to come so naturally to everyone around him.
Sam hastily got changed into pajamas and prepared some other little things for when his wayward ex-angel reappeared, keeping an ear out at all times for any more sounds of distress. He also warded the room as thoroughly as he could, and brought in some weapons from the car. Cas was Numero Uno on Heaven and Hell's most wanted list, and he could not afford to become complacent now he had the angel back under his watchful eyes.
Cas eventually appeared dressed in the loose cotton shirt and pants Sam had bought for him to sleep in. His hair was soaking wet and Sam was over to his side in two seconds flat, grabbing the towel out of his surprised friend's hands and flinging it playfully over his head.
"Dry your hair, Cas! You'll catch your death walking around like that."
"I'll catch my… what?" Cas asked, voice muffled by the towel as he ineffectually scrubbed at his hair. "That makes no sense."
When the towel came off it was all Sam could do to keep a straight face. Cas's hair stuck out in every direction, and he looked so rumpled and grumpy and adorable that Sam itched to hug him. But he restrained himself saying instead "Sit down on the bed, angel."
"Angel no more," Cas said gloomily, sitting down as requested.
"You'll always be an angel to me," Sam said under his breath. Out loud he said "I stand corrected. Now, take your shirt off so I can fix up your wound. Watch me in the mirror, I want you to see what I'm doing so you can do it yourself if necessary."
Cas obediently turned his head to the side, watching not so much what Sam was doing, but the intent expression on his face as he did it, trying to read his human friend.
Sam squirted something on his hands first, explaining gently all the while – 'hand sanitizer Cas, you'll need to use this a lot, it stops the spread of germs' – then the next step – 'this is Betadine Cas, it'll kill any bacteria but it might sting a bit' - and the gentle swipe of the iodine-soaked cotton ball over his abraded flesh. Cas felt himself wince, and saw Sam wince in sympathy, gently brushing his fingertips around the sore places, as if trying to take the pain away. Finally Sam put a dressing over the wound and the lesson was finished.
The next surprise was Sam opening up three pizza boxes Cas hadn't noticed, and placing them on the table.
"I thought we'd start working out what your favorite foods are, Cas. If you don't mind," Sam looked hesitant and Cas smiled, Sam was trying to appease him with food, it was something he did on occasion for Dean. Cas had never appreciated how food could equate to love, but having been near starvation himself he now understood more than he'd ever wanted to about the place food held in human hearts.
"Ok," Sam said, seemingly encouraged by the smile. "I got three different types of pizza, I got meat lovers, which is Dean's favorite, vegetarian, which is mine, and pepperoni, because everyone loves pepperoni."
Sam grinned as Cas practically began to drool.
"Does it hurt a lot?" Sam asked when he saw Cas moving around in his seat, trying to get comfortable.
"My other shoulder hurts worse, it's all stiff."
Sam got up and walked behind Cas, putting out his hand and gently massaging the stiff shoulder, digging his fingers into a tightly knotted bit of muscle. Cas gasped and dropped his slice of pizza, his sixth by Sam's count. As he'd suspected, pepperoni was the one Cas liked best.
"Sam…" he gritted out, "what are you doing?"
Sam's hands stilled. "Massaging your shoulder?" he said hesitantly, more question than statement. "Sometimes when a friend is in pain and they can't reach the spot another friend will help…"
Sam's hands dropped to his sides, realization sweeping over him.
"I'm an idiot," he muttered, walking around the table and sitting heavily in the other chair.
"I didn't say stop," Cas grumbled. "It was pleasant. I just wanted to know what you were doing."
"I know, Cas," Sam groaned. "I'm a fool. I was so worried about your physical well-being I didn't even think. You don't know anything about interacting on a human level. About how we communicate with each other."
Cas narrowed his eyes. "I'm communicating right now, Sam."
"On one level, yes," Sam replied, running his fingers through his hair, "but there are other ways. Oh hell… it's not like we go to human school, we just pick these things up over the course of our lives! It's so hard to explain out loud."
Sam took a deep breath, trying to think of an easy way to explain something that was nearly instinctual for everyone except the ex-angel sitting across from him. "Think of it this way Cas," he said eventually. "There are lots of ways we interact with each other; firstly of course there's language. What we say with words. Then, tone of voice, facial expression and body language, which tells you what the person actually means when they say their words. If they're being sincere or sarcastic or insulting and so on. And then, there's touch. Every time I've ever touched you has had its own message. For example, in the diner, when I put my hand on your shoulder, it was to reassure myself that you were ok, and to reassure you that I was there."
Cas was nodding slowly, he'd felt something like that when Sam had taken his pulse. Hearing it explained out loud, it made sense of the vague feeling of peace and happiness the touch had engendered in him.
Cas thought over the time since Sam had found him. He thought about the hug when they had reached the motel room, how he'd suddenly, finally, felt safe with Sam's arms around him. How soothing it had been when his friend had gently, methodically dressed his wound. How Sam's hand on his shoulder in the diner had been all that had stopped him from shaking to pieces. All of those seemingly simple gestures had said louder than words how much his friend cared. A new understanding of human behavior began to dawn on the ex-angel. Then another thought occurred to him.
"Personal space?" he asked hesitantly, and Sam grinned.
"Yeah, that's part of it. Humans don't like a certain area around them invaded by people they aren't close to. In some cases, getting right up in someone's personal space can be an act of intimidation. However, letting someone into that space can also be an act of trust."
Cas blushed, remembering all the times Dean and Sam had chastised him for having no respect for what was clearly an important human concept. He knew he needed to learn more and soon, he'd already discovered what happened between humans when misunderstandings got out of hand. He felt at his shoulder and winced.
"Would you teach me more about this way of communication?" Cas asked, hesitantly.
Sam was taken completely off guard; he watched Cas's face change as his own drained of blood.
"You don't want to," Cas said miserably, hunching in on himself. "Have I broken some kind of taboo by asking?"
"No, Cas," Sam hastened to reassure his friend. "It's just…" he hesitated. It's just that what I thought when you said that was morally bankrupt, he thought to himself grimly.
"It's just there'll be plenty of time for that later, and I haven't even made you the best comfort drink of all time," he deflected, hopping up, hoping that the prospect of some new treat would divert the former angel. Cas perked up, apparently food worked as well as a distraction on his friend as it did on his brother. That was good to know. Sam grinned, back on solid footing again.
Sam realized exactly what a horrible mistake he'd made as soon as Cas took his first sip. The look of almost sinful bliss on Cas's face as he drank the hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows caused Sam to grit his teeth, dig his nails into his thighs, and think determinedly about unsexy things. Cold showers. Bed bugs. Getting stabbed.
When Cas's pink tongue poked out to lick the cream off his top lip Sam had to excuse himself in a hurry. Cursing himself for a bad friend he stood with his back against the bathroom door until he felt it was safe to go back in the other room.
When he finally did return he smiled gently to himself, the angel-turned-human was sprawled face down on his bed, obviously too exhausted to even get under the covers. Sam got the bedspread from his own bed and laid it gently over his friend, before laying down himself.
It was a long time before he managed to sleep.
Sam was up long before Cas the next morning. He glanced at his phone, there were several missed calls and texts from Dean. He'd texted 'Found Cas, we're fine, we'll be home in a few days' and apparently that had caused his brother to lose his mind. All of the texts from Dean followed a similar pattern of 'where are you?' punctuated with varying amounts of swearing. Sam was still righteously pissed off with his brother for allowing Cas to leave the bunker, so after another quick text that said 'I said we're fine, I have things to do' he turned the phone off.
A snuffling sound alerted Sam to Cas's impending wakefulness. Sam busied himself making toast, he had plans for the day, but he also had things he needed to ask Cas about his time away from the bunker. And he was certain he wasn't going to like some of the answers.
Cas shuffled and groaned his way out of bed and Sam grinned.
"Just call me angel of the morning," he whispered to himself. Cas glanced sharply in his direction, and Sam briefly wondered if Cas's supernatural hearing had been partly down to Jimmy Novak.
"Too cheerful, Sam," Cas grumbled, making his way blearily to the bathroom. Sam grinned even wider and added 'not a morning person' to the mental list he was compiling about Cas's new-found humanity.
When he came back Sam placed a slice of toast with honey and one with jam in front of Cas, who cheered up at the prospect of food. Sam wondered sadly if Cas would have been as fascinated by food if he hadn't so obviously struggled to feed himself before Sam arrived.
Sam poured himself a bowl of cereal and came to sit at the table. He picked up his spoon and put it down again with a barely audible sigh.
"What's wrong?" Cas asked around a mouthful of toast. Sam cursed to himself, the former angel was learning to read him, he'd have to start being more careful with his thoughts.
"Cas, I have to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer honestly. Some of them might be… uncomfortable."
Cas thought that over, chewing absently. "Ok, Sam," he said eventually. "I'll answer as honestly as I can. But in return, I have questions of my own to ask."
Sam nodded. That was fair. He breathed deeply in and out, trying to find the right words, unnerved by the piercing stare his friend was pinning him with.
"Cas… who hurt you?" he finally blurted out, clenching his fists under the table.
Cas's eyes darkened and he looked down at his now-empty plate. He paused, and Sam knew his friend was considering lying. He might be a fast learner, but Cas hadn't worked out how to hide his feelings effectively yet. Sam saw the moment Cas decided to honor their agreement, and felt obscurely proud of his friend for making a decision that was clearly going to cost him. Cas breathed in and out in unconscious mimicry of Sam's earlier calming technique.
"A man driving a van. He saw me walking beside the road, and offered me a lift. When we got to Colorado Springs he wanted… payment I wasn't willing to provide. When I refused he pushed me out of the car and drove off. It's why I called you; I wanted to know… how to avoid making that mistake in future. I never expected you to come and find me."
Sam hardly took in the last of what Cas said. As soon as the word 'payment' left Cas's mouth he was filled with a rage so vast he felt the edges of his vision start to turn black. He knew exactly what sort of payment the man had wanted to extract. His mouth filled with blood and he realized he must've bitten his tongue in an effort to hold back the words he wanted to say.
Cas shrank back a little in his seat at the expression on Sam's face. As an angel one of the emotions he had really understood was wrath. Humans hadn't coined the term 'avenging angels' for nothing. However, the naked hatred on Sam's face was terrifying in its intensity. The ex-angel stayed very still, like a deer who'd been surprised by an oncoming truck, and was reminded why everyone, angels and demons alike, were a little scared of the Winchesters. Slowly, slowly, the Sam that Cas knew, the kind, compassionate friend who had traveled across the country to rescue him, who had tenderly checked him for injuries and made him hot chocolate, came back.
Sam looked over and saw Cas huddled in his seat, and a string of emotions Cas couldn't hope to identify chased themselves across his friend's face. After a long second Sam just looked tired, running a hand through his hair. He didn't seem to notice or care that long strands of that hair fell out under his touch. Then he seemed to think of something else.
"What do you mean you didn't expect me to come for you?" Sam asked suddenly. He narrowed his eyes, and Cas saw the suspicion dawning there. "Cas… why did you leave the bunker?"
Cas licked his lips. That was a question he definitely did not want to answer. It hadn't occurred to him that Sam thought he'd left of his own accord, but if that's what Sam thought he didn't want to disabuse him of the notion. "I was putting you in danger," he said, evasively.
"The bunker is warded against supernatural beings of every type, angels, demons, monsters, all of you," Sam drummed his fingers on the table in agitation and Cas distractedly noted the use of the word 'you.' That seemed like a bad sign.
Sam stilled his hands and leaned across the table. Cas reflexively leaned back. He understood the personal space rule now.
"There is nowhere safer in the known world. Castiel… why did you leave?"
Cas rolled his shoulders, an old habit from when he had wings, and an unconscious signal that he was hiding something. Sam noticed, and something feral came into his eyes.
"Dean!" he hissed.
Dean was at the bunker cursing his brother's stubbornness and his own inability to find him; Sam had turned off the GPS tracking in his phone and Dean was fast running out of ideas. He ran a hand through his hair, looking again at the note his brother had pinned to the table - Gone to find Cas, since you can't be bothered- and winced. The anger was evident in the fierceness of the scrawl, as well as in the words. He was worried about Cas too, of course he was. But he couldn't risk Ezekiel leaving his brother before he was healed. Every second he was with the former angel put him at risk. Zeke would not stand for being so compromised for long.
His phone buzzed. A message from Sam. He read it quickly, and the blood drained from his face. It was two words. 'I know.'
There were two things Sam could have found out about, and only one of those things that his brother would forgive him for.