It wasn't stealing if they were throwing it out anyway.
That's what Castiel told himself, to assuage the awful feeling in stomach; part hunger, part shattered pride, and part guilt for taking something that wasn't his. It helped the guilt part anyway.
He still felt a mix of anger and self pity as he carefully dug his fingers through the mass of putrid trash in the can in front of him. There was a mix of soggy papers, unidentifiable masses, and mashed together food items. He picked out what seemed alright, glad that he'd seen the boy toss it from the restaurant's back door, and he could probably be assured that none of it was bad yet. Castiel had already discovered the joys of eating rotten food, and suffice it to say, it was not an experience he wanted to repeat. Being newly human and homeless was bad enough without his digestive tract rebelling so completely.
Ugh...
Changing his thoughts deliberately, Castiel was considering a plastic container with the remains of soggy noodles, when he heard a noise from behind him.
Turning quickly, his hand reached for his hidden blade, dropping the food in the process. He expected angels, or demons, or any number of supernatural creatures who would be able to tell he wasn't quite human.
There was a small thought that he only hoped that they'd be able to tell he wasn't meant to be human.
But the small noise from behind him wasn't a creature, so far as he could tell (which he didn't think was actually very far), but a human woman with long, tangled blonde hair. Her clothes made it clear that she was in a state much like himself, living on the streets as best she could. She was standing, hands out in appeasement, and looked nervous but sympathetic. It was the sympathy that convinced him that he was looking at a human. And angel would sneer in disgust. A demon would mock and smirk. (He didn't think of Meg).
"Hi," She said, smiling slightly. Castiel narrowed his eyes, and moved his hand from his waistband. This relaxed her further. She didn't move her hands from their position though.
She was a small woman, but probably around the age of Dean, or, he supposed, himself. His vessel, anyway. He was hit anew with how little time he had left, and...
He took a fluctuating thoughts of a human's brain still annoyed him.
Realizing he hadn't responded to her, he waggled his fingers a little. "Hi."
She smiled, and Castiel felt something inside him loosen.
"There we go. Sorry to startle you." She said, lowering her arms. In the darkness it was hard to tell, but there was something about her movements that looked familiar. Looked like Sam and Dean, or even himself. She moved like a warrior.
"You-?" He cut himself off, not sure of what he was even asking. She smiled again, and nodded. He thought he liked it when she smiled.
"That's right, back three years from Iraq. Private April Kelly." April shrugged. "Not that that means much now." She shifted and Castiel saw that her leg, hidden by thick pants and tall military boots twisted awkwardly with the movement. She saw him looking, and patted her thigh. "Yeah, they don't have much use for me now. How about you?"
Something tore through him, and he felt his chest tighten. He put his hand there, and tried to pull himself together.
"Sorry, I just...Yes, I'm ..useless to everyone now. A lot has happened to me."
April gave a short laugh. "Yeah, war is hell, isn't it."
Castiel, for some reason, found himself chuckling too, but it was painful. "It only started in Hell."
His chest eased a bit, when she nodded in understanding. Castiel knew there was no way she really knew what he was talking about, but her eyes held so much. He really felt like she could comprehend something of what he felt.
Above them, the sky rumbled, and Castiel looked up, frowning. He didn't like rain. Rain was wet. But a storm was new. April glanced up too, and something flashed across her face before she smiled and pressed herself against the side of the building. Rain drops started to spatter the littered ground.
"So, stranger, what's your name? I told you mine."
Castiel leaned against the building too, and looked over. "It's ..." He thought about giving her his assumed name, the one Meg had given him. "Cas."
"No last name?"
Swallowing, Castiel shrugged. "No."
Quirking her eyebrow, she acquiesced. "Not anymore, I get it. So, Cas, you planning on eating from that slop heap?" She asked, gesturing
at the trash can he'd been raiding. Furrowing his eyebrows, Castiel looked at it.
"What's wrong with it?"
"Trust me. No one eats there. Stuff's never good, and half is food poison. I'm surprised the place hasn't been shut I'd warn you."
Shuddering, Castiel put a hand on his stomach, and felt extremely grateful. "Thank you. Food poisoning is...unpleasant."
April quirked her lips. "Please, a paper cut is unpleasant. Food poisoning, especially out here, is torture."
Having experienced both, Castiel thought they were not dissimilar. In fact, if he were ever in the occasion to inflict torture a certain angel, he might have considered infecting him with tainted human foods, if he didn't know that, as an angel, he'd be perfectly fine.
"I do appreciate it."
April shrugged, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Under the eaves of the restaurant, with the rain beginning to come down in earnest, the little flash of flame from her lighter was strangely comforting. She noticed him watching her, and held out the pack.
"Smoke?"
Castiel knew all the toxins in the cigarettes that humans liked to imbibe were supremely bad for them. He'd seen and healed enough people with cancer caked lungs and wheezing breaths. But at this moment, standing in the rain with a woman who was not unattractive, he found he didn't really care. He hungered for something, felt tense and anxious and had since he woke on the forest floor, bereft of grace and purpose. Humanity so far was just incessant need, and so little of it got fulfilled. Food and water helped, as did sleep.
Smoke, perhaps would help too.
"Alright." He took one, and April lit the end with her lighter, coming closer than she had before. There was dirt under her nails, but she had nice hands. Strong and delicate at the same time. Calloused in that way that came from handling weaponry. He idly wondered what they would feel like inside his, calloused only from Jimmy's sales job, with a pen mark on the ring finger of the right hand, and a line from his wedding ring on the left. He'd build his own callouses now.
Once the end was flared with orange light, he tried breathing in the way she did. Shortly, April was laughing as he choked, acrid bitterness traveling into his sinuses.
"FIrst one, huh?" April said, smiling as he coughed. He bent over, but cut her a glare as he tried to catch his breath. "You didn't have to."
"It's fine." Even under the ashy smell, there was a bit of a rush in his veins, that he thought he liked. He put the cigarette back to his lips, and tried again, more carefully. This time it choked him less, but still made him cough after. April was still smiling at him.
"You'll get it. Though, maybe you shouldn't. They'll kill you, you know. They're also friggin expensive." April said, sending a glade to the little plastic covered pack. "I only buy 'em if I've got the spare cash, but it's ridiculous."
"Why do you do it then?" Castiel asked, though he was beginning to understand. The chemicals were reaching his bloodstream, and his head was rushing a bit. He felt awake, and relaxed. It was pleasurable.
April breathed in, and then blew out the smoke in a plume. "Gotta complete the image, right? Disabled vet on the streets, addicted to cigs, and begging for booze money. It's pathetic."
Her voice had twisted at the end, and Castiel lowered his cigarette to look at her, and frown.
"You're not pathetic. You're beautiful." She blinked at him, a flush climbing her cheeks. He'd meant the way that he thought all humans were beautiful. They were marvelous creatures, created by his father. He'd loved humanity for years now. According the Naomi, that was his main character flaw.
But, in this moment, with the rain misting around them, and the light of the street lamps casting shadows in a deep blackness, he thought, perhaps, that he meant the other way too. That he, as a human man, found her, a human woman, beautiful.
Huh.
April coughed, and dropped the stub of her cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with her boot.
"Well, thanks." She said. "You're not so bad yourself." There was a glint in her eyes, as she looked sideways at him. Castiel knew he was covered in dirt from his journeyings, unwashed and unshaven for a few days now, and beginning to be slightly damp, but he still smiled. The returned complement was surprisingly nice.
She returned to her place on the wall, leaning closer to him than before.
"Did you want some food?" April asked, turning towards him. "I don't have much, but, you're welcome to share."
Castiel met her eyes, blue and haunted in such a familiar way, but earnest. He nodded.
She led him to a small gathering in an empty lot not far from the restaurant. There were a lot of people there, pitching up tarps, and small tents, and huddling together under the eaves of the surrounding buildings. Castiel passed them and felt a sense of kinship that he tried not to examine. He was human, but so far the 'average joe' was endlessly distant from him. No, Castiel felt close to the dregs of society. The ones that normal people glanced over, thinking themselves above them, when in reality, there was so much goodness in them.
April looked back from where she was picking her way between fires in tin cans, and noticed him lingering. She came back, and put her hand in his. It felt much better to be touched than he'd expected...he didn't want to let go.
"Come on, my tent's just over here. I've got beans." She said, with a teasing smile. At the moment, her smile, and the beans sounded like a delicacy fit for royalty. He told her as much, which made her laugh and blush at the same time.
They ate, and talked, and laughed. The rain never fell harder than a sprinkle, even though the thunder rolled occasionally. April sometimes shuddered when the noise got loud. They sat huddled in her blankets outside her tent, under the staked up fly to protect them from the rain. There was a small fire that she'd lit in a metal bucket sending out just enough warmth in the damp fall night.
They spoke on how April loved and missed expensive sushi, and how Castiel like coffee black. April had competed in school track teams until she was seventeen, and wished she was healed just so she could run again. Castiel wished he still had his powers so he could grant that wish.
April told him about her childhood, growing up in a family of brothers, and joining the military to show them something-she forgot what. She told him about fighting in the war across the sea, and how her husband, a soldier also, had died just before she'd been wounded. How she came home, and ended up on the streets, unable to handle life that wasn't someone shooting at her. He understood.
He told, in as broad terms as he could manage, about what had happened to him. He told her about his betrayals, and who'd betrayed him, and how he wanted so badly to get back to his friends, to Dean. He told her how important Dean was, and that he still didn't think he was worth anything. He said how she reminded her of him. She'd stilled when he spoke of Dean, looking at him curiously. There was a blink, and she pulled away from their pile of blankets, and warmth.
"No, wait. Please." Castiel put his hand on her arm, and halted her. She looked at him for a long moment, and Castiel could only think how nice it was to have her pressed against him. "Please." Then, she settled, and leaned her head on his shoulder. Castiel relaxed in relief.
Hours later, when the rain stopped, someone initiated a kiss that tasted of baked beans and cigarette smoke. Soon enough, April unzipped the tent door, and led him inside.
