[Supernatural Fic] Practically Human 8/18
Jul. 9th, 2010 06:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daylight_darknightTitle: Practically Human 8/18
Characters: Castiel, Bobby, Dean
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and a little violence and disturbing stuff in later chapters
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama
Word Count: ~18,000 in 18 in little chapters
Spoilers: Up to the end of season 5
Summary: Some things are a lot easier to deal with when the world is ending.
AN: This takes place in a slight AU where season 5 ends almost the exact same way except Castiel's powers are never restored and Bobby is still in a wheelchair. While Dean goes off to keep his promise to his brother, Castiel ends up left behind at Bobby's as he tries to adjust to his new life as a human.
Chapter 8
The buzzing in his ears was back. Only it wasn’t a buzzing exactly. It was more like the murmuring of a thousand voices constantly rising and falling, but no matter how loud they got, Castiel could never make out what they were saying. The heavenly host had made sure of that when they cut him off. He wasn’t sure if the murmuring he heard was an oversight on their part or if it had been done by design to torment him. All he knew was when his brothers’ exchanges grew agitated, he heard it, and it was giving him a headache.
The upstairs bathroom had a cabinet above the sink behind an old, distorted mirror. Castiel opened it avoiding his reflected image and carefully perused the various bottles and packages that lined the shelves until he found one that had the name he was looking for. The label on the aspirin bottle was worn and peeling but he was able to make out the correct dosage. Dean had told him to down the whole bottle when he’d given the painkillers to him during the former angel’s first hangover, but that was before and Dean was prone to exaggeration.
Castiel shook two of the pills out onto his hand and gazed at them wishing for a moment that they could stop the voices as well, but despite the pain, he knew the silence might be even worse, severing his last connection to his brothers.
He wondered what they were doing now whether they were fighting amongst themselves still or had found some purpose to unite them. It was possible Raphael had stepped up to fill Michael’s absence, but leadership had never been his strength. Instead, he was the reason Castiel defined archangels as forces of nature. He was force, pure and temperamental. Maybe it would be better if they remained fighting amongst themselves that way they’d leave Earth alone and it was less likely that they’d try to track him down.
Castiel didn’t even know how many of them knew the truth about God’s absence and the efforts to bring about the apocalypse. Most of his brothers had been manipulated like he had been, bound by faith and obedience, but Michael’s fall into hell and the unprophesized end to the apocalypse should have brought up much doubt. Many of his friends in his garrison had…
He stopped that thought. He’d made the decision soon after his rebellion to not consider them friends anymore. You couldn’t consider someone a friend when they’d likely be sent to kill you, when you might have to kill them. He’d considered approaching a few of them for information, but decided it would be too dangerous. Ever since Uriel had tried to kill him, it was hard not to question everyone he’d once trusted.
This was the right path. He’d made the right decision he knew, but that didn’t make it easier knowing he could never go home or be among his own kind ever again.
He swallowed the pills with a grimace and waited.
The pain didn’t go away.
Rereading the label on the bottle, Castiel saw that they could take up to twenty minutes to work, unsurprisingly slow as so many humans things seemed to be. Sighing, he placed the bottle back in the cupboard and headed for the bathroom door. When he reached it, he hesitated then turned around and retrieved two more pills from the bottle quickly swallowing them too.
******
“Dean? Dean!”
“Yeah. Sorry. Whah was that?” slurred the voice on the other end of the line.
Castiel frowned. “Are you drunk?”
“Nah. I’m not drunk,” replied Dean. “What I am is completely shit-faced. And it takes a hell of a lot of alcohol for me to get this way, let me tell you.”
“What happened? Are you alright?”
“What happened? My brother died and went to hell. That’s what happened! So no, I am not alright!” The older Winchester’s voice rose to a scream by the end of his tirade forcing Castiel to move the receiver away from his ear. “You know what Lisa said today? You know what she said? She said, ‘At least, he’s in a better place.’” The laugh Dean gave had a horrible, dead sound to it.
“Dean, she doesn’t know,” Castiel spoke calmly and quietly. He had yet to meet or even speak to Lisa Braeden, but he felt great respect for her for putting up with Dean in his current temperamental state.
“I know that. Of course, I know that. I also know exactly where Sam is and exactly what’s being done to him. It was done to me. Crap, I did it to other people. Now, I wake up screaming every night because I have nightmares of me torturing my brother!”
Castiel didn’t need reminding about what had happened in hell or Dean’s nightmares. He’d already seen both. “Dean, I… I’m sorry,” he said unable to think of anything else to say.
“Yeah? Well, fuck you,” Dean replied, but there was more tiredness than venom in his voice. “Next you’ll tell me that everything’s going to be okay, just like Bobby’s okay, just like you’re okay.”
Castiel remained silent.
The sound of movement and the creak of leather came over the line. “You know sleeping in the Impala isn’t as comfortable as I remember it being.”
“Why are you trying to sleep in your vehicle?” Castiel asked in confusion. “Did you leave? Did Lisa kick you out?”
“Sort of.”
“Pardon?”
Dean sighed. “I’m not allowed in the house when I’m drunk. So I’m spending the night out in the car in the driveway. That way I’m not breaking my promise to Sam, you see? I’m staying and living my nice, normal, apple pie life just like I promised, Sam.”
“Dean…”
“I might be a shit-faced drunk, but I’m keeping my promise.” Dean’s voice was growing softer as if he was falling asleep.
“Maybe I should hang up,” Castiel said uncertainly.
“No,” cried Dean suddenly awake once more. “You have to promise me something. You have to make a promise too.”
“Alright.”
“Promise you won’t become a stoned love guru.”
Castiel couldn’t decide if this was another one of Dean’s bizarre references or if his mind was simply being affected by the alcohol. “A what?”
“Promise!” Dean demanded almost desperate. “I need… I need… I need you to be you.”
“I promise, Dean,” said Castiel with as much sincerity as he could while still unsure as to what he was promising.
“Okay. Good. That’s good.” Dean’s voice trailed off into silence and soon the only sound that could be heard from the phone was the sound of snoring.
Chapter 9
Characters: Castiel, Bobby, Dean
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and a little violence and disturbing stuff in later chapters
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Drama
Word Count: ~18,000 in 18 in little chapters
Spoilers: Up to the end of season 5
Summary: Some things are a lot easier to deal with when the world is ending.
AN: This takes place in a slight AU where season 5 ends almost the exact same way except Castiel's powers are never restored and Bobby is still in a wheelchair. While Dean goes off to keep his promise to his brother, Castiel ends up left behind at Bobby's as he tries to adjust to his new life as a human.
Chapter 8
The buzzing in his ears was back. Only it wasn’t a buzzing exactly. It was more like the murmuring of a thousand voices constantly rising and falling, but no matter how loud they got, Castiel could never make out what they were saying. The heavenly host had made sure of that when they cut him off. He wasn’t sure if the murmuring he heard was an oversight on their part or if it had been done by design to torment him. All he knew was when his brothers’ exchanges grew agitated, he heard it, and it was giving him a headache.
The upstairs bathroom had a cabinet above the sink behind an old, distorted mirror. Castiel opened it avoiding his reflected image and carefully perused the various bottles and packages that lined the shelves until he found one that had the name he was looking for. The label on the aspirin bottle was worn and peeling but he was able to make out the correct dosage. Dean had told him to down the whole bottle when he’d given the painkillers to him during the former angel’s first hangover, but that was before and Dean was prone to exaggeration.
Castiel shook two of the pills out onto his hand and gazed at them wishing for a moment that they could stop the voices as well, but despite the pain, he knew the silence might be even worse, severing his last connection to his brothers.
He wondered what they were doing now whether they were fighting amongst themselves still or had found some purpose to unite them. It was possible Raphael had stepped up to fill Michael’s absence, but leadership had never been his strength. Instead, he was the reason Castiel defined archangels as forces of nature. He was force, pure and temperamental. Maybe it would be better if they remained fighting amongst themselves that way they’d leave Earth alone and it was less likely that they’d try to track him down.
Castiel didn’t even know how many of them knew the truth about God’s absence and the efforts to bring about the apocalypse. Most of his brothers had been manipulated like he had been, bound by faith and obedience, but Michael’s fall into hell and the unprophesized end to the apocalypse should have brought up much doubt. Many of his friends in his garrison had…
He stopped that thought. He’d made the decision soon after his rebellion to not consider them friends anymore. You couldn’t consider someone a friend when they’d likely be sent to kill you, when you might have to kill them. He’d considered approaching a few of them for information, but decided it would be too dangerous. Ever since Uriel had tried to kill him, it was hard not to question everyone he’d once trusted.
This was the right path. He’d made the right decision he knew, but that didn’t make it easier knowing he could never go home or be among his own kind ever again.
He swallowed the pills with a grimace and waited.
The pain didn’t go away.
Rereading the label on the bottle, Castiel saw that they could take up to twenty minutes to work, unsurprisingly slow as so many humans things seemed to be. Sighing, he placed the bottle back in the cupboard and headed for the bathroom door. When he reached it, he hesitated then turned around and retrieved two more pills from the bottle quickly swallowing them too.
******
“Dean? Dean!”
“Yeah. Sorry. Whah was that?” slurred the voice on the other end of the line.
Castiel frowned. “Are you drunk?”
“Nah. I’m not drunk,” replied Dean. “What I am is completely shit-faced. And it takes a hell of a lot of alcohol for me to get this way, let me tell you.”
“What happened? Are you alright?”
“What happened? My brother died and went to hell. That’s what happened! So no, I am not alright!” The older Winchester’s voice rose to a scream by the end of his tirade forcing Castiel to move the receiver away from his ear. “You know what Lisa said today? You know what she said? She said, ‘At least, he’s in a better place.’” The laugh Dean gave had a horrible, dead sound to it.
“Dean, she doesn’t know,” Castiel spoke calmly and quietly. He had yet to meet or even speak to Lisa Braeden, but he felt great respect for her for putting up with Dean in his current temperamental state.
“I know that. Of course, I know that. I also know exactly where Sam is and exactly what’s being done to him. It was done to me. Crap, I did it to other people. Now, I wake up screaming every night because I have nightmares of me torturing my brother!”
Castiel didn’t need reminding about what had happened in hell or Dean’s nightmares. He’d already seen both. “Dean, I… I’m sorry,” he said unable to think of anything else to say.
“Yeah? Well, fuck you,” Dean replied, but there was more tiredness than venom in his voice. “Next you’ll tell me that everything’s going to be okay, just like Bobby’s okay, just like you’re okay.”
Castiel remained silent.
The sound of movement and the creak of leather came over the line. “You know sleeping in the Impala isn’t as comfortable as I remember it being.”
“Why are you trying to sleep in your vehicle?” Castiel asked in confusion. “Did you leave? Did Lisa kick you out?”
“Sort of.”
“Pardon?”
Dean sighed. “I’m not allowed in the house when I’m drunk. So I’m spending the night out in the car in the driveway. That way I’m not breaking my promise to Sam, you see? I’m staying and living my nice, normal, apple pie life just like I promised, Sam.”
“Dean…”
“I might be a shit-faced drunk, but I’m keeping my promise.” Dean’s voice was growing softer as if he was falling asleep.
“Maybe I should hang up,” Castiel said uncertainly.
“No,” cried Dean suddenly awake once more. “You have to promise me something. You have to make a promise too.”
“Alright.”
“Promise you won’t become a stoned love guru.”
Castiel couldn’t decide if this was another one of Dean’s bizarre references or if his mind was simply being affected by the alcohol. “A what?”
“Promise!” Dean demanded almost desperate. “I need… I need… I need you to be you.”
“I promise, Dean,” said Castiel with as much sincerity as he could while still unsure as to what he was promising.
“Okay. Good. That’s good.” Dean’s voice trailed off into silence and soon the only sound that could be heard from the phone was the sound of snoring.
Chapter 9
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-10 01:57 am (UTC)Still, he was right. I don't think any of them are handling this well.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-10 02:54 am (UTC)The promise at the end gives me alittle hope, but iuno... Can you be more vague than "stoned love guru"? And it's slang-stunted Castiel, too.
I like the detail about what Cas hears, like "the murmuring of a thousand voices." But how Cas's last connection to his family is muffled angel radio that gives him headaches make me D:
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-10 05:16 am (UTC)I guess Dean didn't really fill Cas in on how future|Cas was into sex and drugs. We never found out how he felt about rock and roll.
I'll be checking back tomorrow to see what's going on.
Laurie
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-11 04:49 pm (UTC)And oh Dean *huggles him*. He needs to invite Cas over so someone's actually with him when he gets like that. But yeah, go Dean for making Cas promise not to go down the psychedelic road.
And go you for updating so fast. lol I was only away for about a day and I have three chapters to catch up on. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-11 10:31 pm (UTC)