Being human is an oddly vulnerable trait. It doesn't seem as such when you've spent an eternity watching them. Seen them fight, claw and scream their way out of many situations. Humans are one of the weaker creatures god has created by physicality but they try and they do there damnest to achieve all their bodies are capable of achieving.
Being human isn't fun. The flimsy easily penetrable skin is annoyance enough; add onto that an array of overwhelming, uncontrollable emotions and you're doomed. Castiel doesn't like complications, detests them almost as much as he hates his new found human life.
He's packing the truck as Bobby instructed, but he feels cold, even his long trench coat can't seem to warm his bones. He could complain but he chooses not too when he realises – after Bobby's temperamental words – that he has no right to bitch. He's bodily capable or as capable as an ex angel turned human can be.
Even as he began expressing emotions it was never this vivid – never this painful. Things seem so hopeless that for a moment when he awoke in the hospital wearing that ridiculous gown he wanted to end it all. To rest. He wondered if he'd be sent to heaven or be dammed to hell. Maybe he'd go to neither. He is after all a freak of nature. The first angel to fall slowly – his grace decaying like a sick disease. He felt it slowly and cruelly coming away from him but there was nothing he could do. But now there's nothing. Just internal organs and the fast swim of blood through his veins. Yes now his. Entirely his because this body is his own. This weak helpless body.
Castiel throws a duffel to the floor, getting a small hint of relief from it when he sees that yes something is weaker than him and that something may be an inanimate object but Castiel can push it around as easily as he used to be able to push around demon's, forty pound trucks and unimportant humans like Sam and Dean. Humans like Sam and Dean who seem all too important to him now.
"Hey Cas." Dean calls casually, his voice catching somewhat as if he's fighting back his emotions – something the older Winchester is all too good at.
Castiel turns slowly.
"You forgot one." Dean reminds as he one-handily throws a backpack at Cas.
Castiel catches it muffling the small sharp exhale of breath that wants to escape when the backpack collides with his chest.
All he can think is : this is stupid and I hate this so damn much. He turns faster than he should stamping towards the van. His foot catches on the strap of the duffel he left on the floor and before he knows it, his foots tangled and he's falling towards the floor the backpack flying out of his hands. He's never felt more terrified, he's certain his heart skips a beat and he feels his eyebrows inching up in surprise.
"Dean!" He distantly hears his voice calling, not knowing why he did it but then his face smashes into the side of the beat up van before he falls backwards, landing on his ass. His nose aches and he experimentally tries to shift his facial muscles – it hurts. The new found pain is insufferable but it doesn't stop as it did when he had his grace. It intensifies before it stings; like that spot on his face is too hot.
There's a choppy laugh before he hears Deans scuffling footsteps.
"Oh man...you really took a tumble there." Another laugh then a hand on his shoulder.
"You Okay? Dean asks his voice shaking with the urge to laugh again.
Castiel smooth's his palm against his nose and instantly regrets it; he flinches violently and pulls his hand away. It's covered in blood.
"No." He grumbles out as he nudges away Dean's hand on his shoulder.
The hunter notices the blood and winces in sympathy for a moment before he stands fully.
"Cool it, it's just a bit of blood we'll wipe it down and you'll be as good as new."
Castiel grits his teeth as tears spring to his eyes and he's not sure what he wants to do more shout or cry.
He does both.
"No it won't Dean. I won't be as good as new. I can never be as good as new again! I'm weak, I'm useless and I feel so damn hopeless it hurts."
"Cas..."
"No Dean. Just leave me alone."
It's silent for a large stretch of time. Castiel sitting in the dirt with a bloodied nose and a broken spirit and Dean standing awkwardly struggling to find the right words to say.
The hunter breathes in resolution as he finally decides what to do. Arching a brow he realises then and there that he has to step up. That at this point in time Castiel needs him hell needs them all to help him through what he's experiencing.
"The hell I will." Dean replies to Cas's order to be left alone. He hauls his friend up ignoring the others winces and once in a while the odd profanity, which sounds all too wrong but looks all too right coming out of Cas's mouth.
He sets Cas into a rickety old chair in Bobby's kitchen before unlooping a dirtied tea towel from around the oven door handle.
He tells Cas to remove his trench coat because surely that monstrosity isn't comfortable (Dean's words) before the hunter kneels before Cas and wipes at his friends nose.
Castiel clenches his eyes shut in barely concealed pain as Dean switches his hand for the tea towel and shifts the others nose.
"It's not broken." Dean identifies.
"Here hold this." The hunter intones as he stands, handing the tea towel to Cas who silently holds it beneath his nose.
As if knowing the kitchen by memory, which he probably does Dean noisily and efficiently locates a cheap bottle of whiskey and two tumblers.
He sloppily pours the drink, the deep brown liquid sloshing over the edges of the glasses before he smoothes one over to Cas, downing his own in an instant.
"Don't ever talk like that again you hear me?"
"Like what?" Castiel queries.
"All that crap about you being useless, angel or not you're still badass... angel or not you're still my friend. Still our friend. Team free will and all that."
The sentence is anything but eloquent but it's honest and Castiel appreciates that.
"Thank you for your honesty but the statement doesn't make me feel any better."
Dean smiles despite himself as he pours another drink.
"And your honesty is still as annoying as ever." The hunter sighs feigning cheeriness as he lifts his glass in a mock toast.
Cas sips at the drink mildly before shooting air out as his mouth, his lips forming into an obscene O shape. He feels it. The slick burn of the drink as it slides down his throat and over his tongue. He likes it. He takes another sip.
"Hey look man." Dean starts before he rests his glass on the table in favour of kneeling and checking on Cas's nose. The bleeding's stopped which is a good sign.
He takes the towel out of Cas's plaint hands. He throws the bloodied greased cloth onto the table before addressing his friend.
"It'll get better. Trust me." Dean says.
"I do."
"Then you know it'll get better, you may not know how to fight whiles your entirely human but I'll look out for you."
"I should be able to look after myself." Cas states sourly.
"And you will...in time." Dean's at a loss of what more he can say. They have to leave soon. Himself and Crowley are going after Death and hell if that doesn't sound like the stupidest plan they've ever had but it's their only one. But seeing Cas like this is making him change his mind and he can't. There's so many lives at stake and dammit him and Sammy started all this so they have to finish it and if that means leaving the comforting of his friend for another day then so be it.
"I wish to protect you too; your life means more to me than my own." Cas states quietly although the words have never rang clearer and louder to Dean.
"Yeah I know it does Cas." And I hate you for it.
Sometimes Dean just wants Cas to be selfish, wants Cas to hate him. Yell at Dean to appreciate him more. Remind Dean of everything the angel's given up for him as he did when they were in the alleyway together. He wants Cas to be mad because that's the only way he'll be able to live through the rest of his life with even a chance of surviving against the many demons and monsters.
Cas inhales.
"Dean if I die tomorrow."
"You won't." Dean growls his voice dropping an octave. Castiel just tilts his head the end of his nose tinged pink with his dried blood.
"If I do-"
"We are not having this conversation alright? We've got a van to pack, Bobby 'n' Sam are probably wondering where we are. Don't want em to catch us in here drinking Bobby's not so secret stash the old man'll kill us. C'mon Buddy."
The hunter taps Cas's knee before jolting his thumb towards the back door.
Dean's always been good at avoiding the subject. Cas has always been good at indulging him.
Dean stands and walks pausing in the doorway to stare back at his friend.
"Cas?" He asks softly, the ex angels head lolls up, he smiles which he finds is incredibly hard to do before he replies.
"I'm coming."
And even though he's terrified and unsure and entirely human he knows it will get better. Because Dean said it would.
He stands then does as he always has.
He follows Dean.