nerves

by satyrs

if her head weren't a war-zone castielle would feel. she knows that. she would feel – horrible, no good, very bad, and – why are you so obsessed with her? weren't you punished for feeling? genderbend.

i

i apologize because this is not my usual fandom – in – in terms of writing, i mean i usually write for ahm, hetalia but

and i know that the fanbases are entirely different? this

isn't my usual fandom and i'm terribly sorry if i mess anything up

i haven't written in a while either, at least a few months so

pairing/s – female!destiel.

warnings – language?

rating – t.

disclaimer – i don't own supernatural or any extension of it; eric kripke does.

–

Sometimes she hears, in those little hotel rooms, strangled screams and restless legs, peeks in because she's curious, always curious (and she wonders what her fascination with the woman is) and – and tonight is one of those nights where she finds Deanna, sprawled out on one of the too-small beds, kicking the sheets off and holding a pillow over her head.

Nightmares.

Castielle doesn't understand nightmares, but whatever they are Deanna has them every night and she's frightened every night, kicking and screaming in a way that only terrified children can, turning over and over and bunching her clothes up, bunching the sheets up. The sheets are starch white, tangled around her left leg only, and now the pillow is on the floor, and oh dear, you're so messy.

(If her head weren't a war-zone Castielle would feel. She knows that. She would feel – horrible, no good, very bad, and – why are you so obsessed with her? Weren't you punished for feeling?)

So she sings.

She sings of bees and how they pollinate the flowers, and then she sings of the journey home and how when they get back their nest is broken and there's a crowd of humans there, so they sting the humans, and the humans –

And the humans kill them, and she sings of that too but her voice breaks, and she sings about the bug spray they held and murdered with, wonders why they did it because bees are peaceful creatures, will only attack if you disturb their nest and that's a normal way of thinking, that's a – that's a normal reaction.

She scrunches her nose up, taps Deanna's shoulder and receives no response.

(Like nightmares, Castielle also don't understand the concept of sleep. She gets that you close your eyes, and you always dream – and sometimes the dreams are bad, like Deanna's now – but other times you don't even remember them. She can't grasp the idea, the importance – why do humans need sleep so badly? Do they need to be entertained, or – ?)

Another tap. Don't make me smite you.

Slap.

"What the f – "

"Why do humans kill bees?"

"Cas, it's four in the morning – "

"I know."

The other opens her mouth to say something, shuts it, then tries again: "I was sleeping."

"I know. I saw you."

"That's – okay."

"You were kicking the sheets around."

Blink.

The aforementioned sheets rustle; Castielle moves a bit to the right, watches Deanna pull herself up. She's wearing a tank top, and it's cold so a jacket's flung over her shoulders, but it's tilted to the left because it's being pulled down – she's sitting on it.

"Why do humans kill bees?"

"Because bees are crafty little bastards and people are scared of them."

"So because people are afraid of something, they attack it?"

The other shifts.

"Look, I'm not telling you that's always why; humans can be evil too but – "

"Humans are ungrateful."

Deanna purses her lips and leans back, arms crossed behind her head.

"I don't think that's always the case."

This fascination clicks in again, the constant wanting to do – something. When she was almost human it was there, that awful wanting. And it's there now, aching and throbbing in her head like a burning thought, and, God, what do I do?

Humans kiss when there's a silence like this, don't they?

And she wants to, that's what the fascination is, but – she can't. That's not what angels do. Anna did it (did more than that, actually), but she's not Anna.

She's never been Anna, and she can't be now, so she flies off.

There have been so many times before this that she's done the exact same thing, was told something and then there was a silence, wondered what could have filled that silence and if she should have done it, and –

And she's back, crawls up onto the bed and kisses her.

Deanna doesn't kiss back, and Castielle draws away after it's been done, is stared at like she's grown another arm, and the arms she does have are looped around her neck because she's seen the way Deanna kisses men, feels something in the pit of her stomach when she does but can never put a finger on what –

And –

"Was that not what I should have done?"

After a pause, "Cas, what exactly do you feel?"

Lust is a sin. She's not feeling sexual lust, though – what is she feeling?

"I don't know. I want to protect both of you, I know that."

"What else?"

"I have to think."

And she's off.