Dean lay back whilst Sam finished exorcising the demon in the centre, but as it left, the body slumped, already two shades past its expiration date. 'Great', Dean thought bitterly, 'another meat suit to burn'. There was a pain in his side, crawling gingerly up each rib, initial numbness giving way to hurt. Sam was already there, arm outstretched to help him up, as always. On his feet, Dean felt woozy, dizziness soaring over him like the room was a tidal wave and every wall seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks without moving. Sam kept an arm around him, a familiar frown creasing his brow.

"You alright?" The genuine concern in his voice was always what gave the real Sam away. In the past whenever he had been used by demon a, b or c, the cold clinical aura that he had given off always gave him away. His brother was, in a single word, understanding, even in times when Dean couldn't give a fuck.

"Dude, just get us back to the motel already. Smells like piss down here."

It was a good few hours before Dean woke up again, and jumped out of his bones to see a face looming over his, two deep blue eyes staring intensely into his and didn't need two guesses to know who it was. There was only one person who had that 'inner soul stare': the one that made you feel like shrink wrap, see through and exposed, like a nerve just waiting to be touched.

"Cas dude, mind giving a guy a little space?"

The angel stepped back, respecting his wishes but not even blinking. "You should rest now Dean." He didn't say anything more, but there was something hanging in the air that Dean couldn't place. Something left unsaid, like something had happened and Cas wasn't telling. For a moment, Dean considered asking him before having to reprimand himself. Cas didn't tell unless he wanted Dean to know something. The hunter had enough trust in the divine dude to step back and know that if Cas needed to let him know something, if there was something important he really needed to know, then he had faith that Castiel would inform him. Funny how he showed more loyalty to Cas than he had even entertained about God. But of course, he wouldn't let Cas know that.

"Thanks Cas." The awkward air continued, the intensity of the stare growing, Dean cocking his head. "You got something to say?"

His gaze shifted then, the blue in his eyes becoming darker as he turned away. "No." He looked at Dean from the corner of his eye. "Take care Dean."

And he was gone, just like that; the fluttering of invisible shadowy wings filling the quiet, the intensity fading away to a growing instinct in Dean's gut. He knew something wasn't right.

Castiel materialised in his garden, his heaven, only to find someone already there – standing amongst his grass and his perception. Balthazar waved his hands in his 'could care less' fashion.

"Cassie, Cassie. Home at last."

"It's Castiel." Although his words suggested he was annoyed, he couldn't be, not at his Brother. "Why are you here?"

"I just though that I'd check in with my favourite Brother... you know how it is." A playful hint of smile played about his lips. "How are the Winchesters?"

"Good." Castiel said shortly. His words said one thing, his tone said another. Although he always looked as if he was hiding something, he looked uncomfortable. Thoughts dripped from his mind but couldn't quite find his lips. Instead, they hung there with deafening uncertainty. Balthazar knew him better than just about anyone. He also knew how good Castiel was at not letting anything slip.

"So, how does it feel?"

Castiel looked on him with all the force of an Angel but a hidden something drilled a light into his usually dark blue eyes and gave away something not angelic at all. Something different about him. Something Balthazar knew he was carrying, but didn't dare bring up until now. There was an elephant in the room, well, garden, making it's way between both of their sights and covering everything with the stink of awkward.

"I know of your punishment."

Castiel wasn't surprised. Balthazar might act like he didn't care about anything but he knew a lot more than he let on. He had a habit of finding out what he shouldn't know. Keeping hold of memories that he could use later was something he was good at. He played at being the 'lover' instead of the fighter, but truth in truth, he didn't even need to fight because he usually had some rogue info that he could use to his advantage to skip out of tight spots. No, Castiel was not surprised at all.

"It's like being torn." The smaller Angel's voice didn't waver. Every syllable was adamant.

Balthazar actually laughed. "I believe that's what they call being human."

Castiel didn't reply. He had nothing to say. Of course, he was an Angel. Being human wasn't his punishment. But in his rebellion, and his belief in freedom that he has learned almost solely from Dean Winchester, he had lost his Angelic objectivity, becoming attached to the Winchesters more than he should. Putting them before the greater good. His Father had punished him, and punished him well, a cleverly chosen punishment because it wasn't an outside affliction. God hadn't simply cast him down to Earth as an exile to walk amongst the mortals. Instead, he had cursed him. Almost like he had cursed his soul, but of course, Angels didn't have souls. But these feelings, this conscience he had developed weighed on him heavier than a thousand souls. He could feel. Every emotion in the human spectrum, he felt. He was learning to recognise them. Anger, pity, confusion. Apparently there was more, but on the happiness and contentment side of the spectrum, he was blind sighted by hurt. How could his Father do this to him? But then, of course, the Almighty was capable of true mercy. Especially to the Angels who had a connection with humans. In this moment of compassion, he had told his son that this was not permanent, but that he would 'know his moment of punishment with the greatest clarity'.

When he turned to face Balthazar, the Angel had vanished. He stood alone in his heaven, in his own little corner of the world and felt something rising inside of him. Something that he tried his hardest to fight before realising that you couldn't fight emotion. Between the clouds skating the summer sky and the twitter of insects dousing themselves in the flowers, Castiel thought for a moment that this was contentment. He would say that he could stay here forever, but he knew that wasn't an option and wasn't one to fantasise. He knew the moment he was needed on earth, he would be there. It gave him purpose. For the moment, he had been ceased of all duties in order to fully realise his recent state. He had nothing to do. Instead of waiting in his garden, he knew somewhere where he could make a difference. Perhaps.

"Get a move on Sammy! This thing aint gonna nuke itself!" Dean was hauling bags into the trunk of the car with no grace whatsoever. As the lid went down, Castiel's face came into view.

"Jeeze Cas. Lil' warning would be nice."

"I am... sorry", he replied, almost tasting the word on his tongue. In that moment, alone in the salvage yard with Dean, he wanted to tell him of his predicament, but what would that really achieve? There was nothing that either of the Winchesters could do; nothing anyone could do: This was God's work. No one changed God's hand.

"What, no Heaven's orders?" Dean cocked his head, a bead of sweat dripping down listlessly through the hair by his ear. Funny how being an Angel, Castiel noticed the smallest things and knew what they meant. Sweating meant labour, which he suspected was the case here, but he knew that it could also mean fear or anger. That wasn't the funny thing though. The most funny thing was that Angels could not appreciate the tiny details they noticed because they didn't feel at all. The empathy that God had instilled in him allowed him to understand that Dean was probably tired from lifting. He stooped to touch the rest of the kit and disappeared for a millisecond, having packed them away in the foot well of the back seat, sighing a little when the move took more out of him than was natural. When Dean gave him a quizzical look, Cas explained himself followed by, "I have come to help you with your hunts Dean."

"Wait, what?" Dean seemed more pleasantly surprised than annoyed, to which something new flooded over Castiel in a wave of humanity, his mind taking a few seconds to ascertain that this must be relief. He did not want his friend to be angry at him, and he assumed that was only human. He had been watching humans confront, and avoid confronting each other for years upon years. So much time watching human nature allowed him to know which emotion he was feeling. It made it less scary, less wrought with conflict.

"You mean Smitey McSmiteson's gonna come down and join Ghostbusters?"

Cas tilted his head, brow furrowed in confusion. "I do not understand..." He started, but Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Awesome dude. Just, awesome."

Castiel did not like the car at all. It was small and cramped. Though he did like the smell. All of his senses were associating the little things to his memories. The smell of whiskey and oil reminded him of Bobby's place, but the smell in here, the warm smell of leather and musky too, with a faint tinge of gunpowder. It was spicy and different and he couldn't help but like it. Dean's jacket smelled the exact same way. Except with a little more liquor stink, naturally.

"What are we hunting?" Cas' voice was low, trademark gravel sliding out in rocky tones. He caught Dean's eyes through the rear view mirror, but the gaze didn't last; Dean was driving after all.

"Demons. Load'sa omens kicking down in New York. Heard from a couple of Bobby's pals that there's a big group, so uh..." He looked again, catching that intense stare but Dean's eyes were smiling. "Yeah, glad you could join us really."

Cas felt something else wash over him then. He considered the words that Dean has used, still looking at his unaware profile in the mirror. 'Glad'. Dean was glad he came along. Did he feel 'glad'? Was this what he was feeling? Or maybe... maybe it was acceptance? Acceptance that he was going hunting? Not so much. More like he'd become a little piece of the puzzle that could slot into place. Cas found himself wanting to change his face, and it happened without much though. The corners of his lips curled and he gave a little smile to himself, sat amidst the gear on the back seat and lowered his eyes. Yes. Acceptance, he decided, was a good emotion.

"Idiots", Dean scoffed in his usual over confident manner, "Didn't even Angel proof it up. Guess they had no idea we'd be bringing Heaven's Tax Accountant along for the ride."

Cas stared at him. "Tax accountant?" Dean dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He was peering into the building through a large pair of binoculars and mulling over strategy. Meanwhile, Castiel, ever the impatient one, was contemplating merely zapping in there and taking them out before either of the Winchesters could realise, but he didn't want to take their victory away from them.

So, it all went to Dean's plan. Sam went to take out the lookouts with the knife, and Dean went with Cas to one of the side doors. Dean got to his knees to pick the low bearing lock and stopped when he heard a long drawn out sigh.

"Cas?"

The Angel brushed him aside slightly to open the lock himself. Patience was a virtue that he never really favoured, but he found that his human side was making it worse.

Dean on the other hand, felt something much larger push him aside. He knew Cas had the power of an Angel, but he felt something brush past him and it sent shivers down his spine. He cast the thought aside when he heard the door click open and Cas took the lead. Something about that felt wrong, and the weather added further misery as a bolt of lightning cracked and the sky opened. The hunter ducked in after him, out of the rain.

Same old monster, same old run down abandoned hide out. Dean was quickly noticing a theme here, and he thought for one moment that it was just to deliberately piss him off. The first demon hadn't noticed them, Dean swung up his weapon but Castiel blocked his view, exorcising with a single touch. Sometimes Dean forgot his power, since they were friends. It was easy to forget Cas was an Angel, he wasn't exactly the robes and harp kinda guy, but when their eyes met, and Dean's soul lurched within at the stare, he felt Cas' power like a lightning bolt and appreciated the fact that although Cas could smite him where he stood, he chose his side to help him out instead. Like a wingman. With the exception of Sam and Bobby, the Angel was the closest friend Dean had. A small part of that made him slow down in his steps. There was nothing connecting him to any of these people except madness and monsters. He didn't even talk to Sam when he was at Stanford, and as much as he hated to admit it, but if Sam hadn't left and was still 'lawyering it up', they probably wouldn't be talking now. Bobby raised them as hunters and helped them with more or less every case they took on, and Cas... well. Cas was a celestial being and although he was almost socially retarded and had unrivalled family issues, he had the mojo that usually saved the day. Or them.

Castiel stopped dead in his tracks while Dean was lost in his thoughts and the hunter bumped into him, feeling a strength unmatched move against him and Cas turned. Dean waved his hands as if to say, 'What? Get a move on already!' Passing Cas he came to the main door, knowing the demons were inside. His hand reached into his jacket for holy water and he popped the lid, his other hand raising his gun. He braced for the impact and kicked the door with all the force he could muster. Six pairs of black eyes blinked back at him and the rest happened so fast that for a moment, Dean was lost in chaos. Sam came through the door and took out two with the dagger, one of them with a chest full of rock salt before the older brother lunged at one of the demons before she had time to react and managed to slam the force of his fist against her face before she kicked out, his weapon flying and Dean scrabbling to get it back before she pinned him against the wall, throat in steely hands, his feet inches from the floor when he closed his eyes to a fiery light. Before it burnt out and faded, he felt something hot in those fingers clutching his neck, like a branding on his skin, something shifting inside of him, something red rising to his surface, something he tried to shuck off violently. Opening his eyes, the girl had dropped to the floor, Cas' hand returning to his side, an expression on his face that Dean had never seen before.

"Thanks man. You okay?"

The Angel appeared to put his thoughts back into check before he nodded. After a look around the floor to the bodies he'd exorcised, he found that none of them were still alive and yet another rush of uncontrollable emotion swept over him. Loss. Guilt, maybe? No, not guilt. He could not have known that these people had been dead for some time. He might have found the nest earlier if he had joined the hunt sooner, but that was a slim possibility. No, not guilt, but loss. The fact that at least nine people lay around the building and there was nothing they could do to prevent that. Loss of control wasn't an emotion, but Castiel was feeling that more than anything else. Like he was powerless, which was ludicrous when he mused over it in his mind, because he was one of God's children and blessed with being an Angel.

In the car on the way back to the motel, Cas couldn't stop thinking. This is what being human must feel like. Everyday, with nothing in your power, emotion washing over you in waves that you couldn't stop and you couldn't help. Feelings that burned into you like knives and some that trickled over you. Good feelings felt like Spring, warm rain amongst God's natural beauty, but bad feelings... they coiled up and writhed inside you like a thousand hot snakes, poised and ready to burst through your skin and hurt you in ways that you thought you could never hurt.

They stopped at a bar to celebrate. Dean leaned over the counter and grinned at the bar maid before ordering a third scotch for himself, a beer for Sam and a water for Castiel. Light flirting turned quickly into heavy flirting and pretty soon Dean was asking what time she finished.

Meanwhile, at their table, Sam was more interested in the fact that Cas was still with them. Normally after helping out with anything, he was gone in a flutter of cool air and they were left usually talking to themselves as if he was still there. Castiel tried to explain to him that since there was no need for him to be aiding Heaven or God at this time, he had nothing on his hands and that he was trying to keep busy. The Angel found explaining himself harder and harder due to him trying to also eavesdrop on Dean at the same time. The flirting between them grew louder in his mind than Sam talking and something moved inside of him. Like, his stomach, well, his vessels stomach. A new emotion was niggling at him but it was one that he really couldn't explain.

"Cas?"

"Sorry Sam. It wasn't clear to me what you just said." He tried to return all of his attention to Sam whose face was a combination of confused, quizzical and concerned.

"I said, that sounds an awful lot like boredom." Sam studied Castiel's silence with analytical interest. "Being bored is human. I thought Angels didn't feel?"

"Of course we don't. That's a nonsense assumption Sam." Cas felt his mouth say the words but his face told a different story. Emotion wasn't just sitting inside him now, but making its way into expression. Sam did nothing but raise an eyebrow and Cas knew from experience that this was a sign that Sam didn't believe him, but he said nothing more, which made Cas feel the wave of relief yet again, momentarily washing over the tingling in his stomach.

Dean joined them a moment later. "So, any more leads?"

"Not at the moment, gonna keep checking local papers and Bobby's gonna call if he finds anything, but we might as well stay here and make sure that the demon nest is that only one in the area. Or at least, the only one that's killing people at any rate."

"So, you can cover that, right?" Dean swilled his scotch around the tumbler before feeling the heat as he drank it down.

"I guess... "

"Awesome."

As Castiel and Sam started back towards the motel, giggling could be heard down the alleyway by the bar. As Cas threw a glance, he saw Dean frantically kissing the bar maid, her hands in his hair and his... well... all over her, his cocky smile only just visible in the low light.

That niggling feeling turned into a tornado in his stomach and the human feeling of nausea flooded all of his senses and a mixture of anger and for some reason, unworthiness mingled into a toxin that made him take a steady breath and stop three steps later. This was a pain he hadn't felt before and above all, he didn't recognise the emotion. The confusion overwhelmed him in an instant and he could vaguely hear Sam asking if he was okay but his mind was running in circles, trying to explain the feeling. He didn't know what it was but he didn't like it. Not one bit. It ate him from the inside and quickly Cas decided that he would rather be hit, or sliced than feel this again.

There was an uncomfortable silence between Sam and Castiel until they reached the motel, when Cas stopped. "I will see you tomorrow Sam." He paused and felt even more human. "I hope that will be satisfactory."

"Uh, yeah. I guess. See ya..." Before Sam could finish his sentence, he heard the fluttering that meant Cas was gone.

The Angel did not know where to go. He needed to diagnose his emotion before he could realise its implications. He stood in his Heaven, wondering how this all got so complex. Back when he was without feeling, he never had to deal with this sort of nonsense. Physical pain was no stranger to him and it never would be, but this mental anguish that he could not understand was hurting him more than any broken limb. For a moment he considered that this pain was something that all humans had to live with. Jimmy, his vessel – he had to deal with this on a daily basis. Dean and Sam did. Bobby did. Then he realised he was feeling empathy and rolled his eyes. Every feeling was making him even more human. Things were starting to catch him off guard even, as he noticed when Balthazar put a hand on his shoulder and Castiel jumped a little.

"Was that, surprise?" Balthazar was laughing in his words. "Jeeze, you're humanising a lot quicker than I thought brother."

"Balthazar I..." He contemplated what to say. "I just did not notice you."

"Loss of awareness," he started counting off symptoms on his fingers, "expression without conscious thought and now what's this? Empathy? I always knew you cared."

"I am experiencing things I do not understand." Castiel's honest admission was not something he would normally do, but over recent events he had become closer to Balthazar than the rest of his brothers. He was a good brother, despite what other Angels might say.

"Yeah, that's being human Castiel."

"There is an emotion I cannot place." He looked up, intensity settling in his eyes. "What must a person feel when they have a trusted friend... and that friend is close to another?" He knew what he wanted to say but it got mixed up in his head, tumbled off his tongue.

"I think that would be jealousy." Balthazar's eyes narrowed and he took a step closer, tilting his head as he looked down at Castiel's face, which upset him a little, to see his little brother confused and distressed. It was a horrible kind of new. "You feel jealously when you have strong feelings towards someone."

Castiel breathed in deeply through his nose, processing the information. He knew that he had a fondness for the Winchesters, especially Dean, but to have feelings that were affected by jealousy?

Balthazar was gone, but Castiel had no more questions for him anyway. This was something he had to work out on his own, and even thought he appreciated his brothers help, he could not feel the empathy that he could.

No, Castiel decided. Earth was where these feelings were founded, and earth was where he would find his answer.