[Supernatural Fic] Practically Human 9/18
Jul. 10th, 2010 05:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daylight_darknightHalf-way done! Now, if only the heat would stop making my brain melt.
Title: Practically Human 9/18
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 9
Castiel trailed his fingers across the textured surface of the yellowing paper as he gently flipped to the next page in the book, but found his eyes unwilling to focus on the script that covered it. He stretched out his stiff vertebrae and shifted into a more comfortable position before trying again. The Sumerian words came easily to him as any other language and he made it half-way down the page only to find himself distracted by an itch on his knee. He scratched it irritably.
He wondered what he’d be doing now if he was still a member of his garrison. Watching? Guarding? Fighting? Now, he read, cooked, bought groceries, did laundry, all paltry, pointless, human things. He’d laid siege to hell fighting thousands of demon spawn, he’d watched mountains rise and fall beneath the ocean, he’d flown from one pole to the other and between the stars, and here he was reading a book that was more often wrong than right.
Shifting his position in the chair again, Castiel scratched his fingers against his cheek and then rubbed a hand over his chest. The constant sensation of the clothing against his skin was irritating and the skin itself felt tight and constraining.
“You alright, Feathers?” asked Bobby from where he sat at his desk across the room. “You’ve been acting like you’ve got ants in your pants or something.”
Castiel felt the urge to roll his eyes at the human’s incessant need to use bizarre metaphors. At least, the metaphors Bobby used were more comprehensible than Dean’s.
“I’m fine,” the former angel grumbled bad-temperedly. “I’m merely… bored.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Well, maybe it’s time you found something to do with your life, unless you intend to keep me company the rest of my days.”
“And what should I do with my life?” Castiel tossed the book he had been trying to read aside. “What could I possibly do that is remotely worthwhile in this state?”
“Right, because nothing a human could do could be anywhere near as important as the duties of an angel of the lord,” Bobby shot back sarcastically.
“So much of what you do is meaningless and accomplishes little.”
“Well, that depends on your perspective, doesn’t it,” said Bobby his voice icy and quickly rising to a much higher temperature. “Maybe if you took your high and mighty head out of the heavenly clouds, you might realize that it doesn’t take angel powers to do some good in this world and what you consider little means a hell of a lot to us humans!”
Castiel didn’t bother to reply. He merely shook his head and left the room still rubbing irritably at his chest.
******
“I’m sorry about last night,” Dean said later.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Castiel insisted. He’d been more concerned about the fact Dean had been drunk than the way he’d acted when inebriated. Thankful, the former hunter sounded much more sober that evening.
Dean let out a sheepish chuckle. “I’m not even sure what I said. All I remember is you calling and me ranting on about stuff. I guess everything just kind of hit me.”
“But you’re better now?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Dean said his tone hesitant. “I spent half the day with the mother of all hangovers and the other half trying to make things up to Lisa.”
“She’s angry with you?”
Dean snorted. “I come home drunk off my ass and raving about hell scaring both her and Ben. Yeah, I’d say she’s fairly pissed off.”
“I’m sure she’s mostly concerned.” At least, Castiel hoped she would be if she truly cared about Dean.
“Maybe,” replied Dean sounding unconvinced. “I tried cleaning the house as an apology though I doubt that helped much. I spent half an hour just trying to get the damn streaks out of the mirrors. Did you know there’s a different type of cleaning product for just about every part of the house?”
“No, I did not. I have only just learned how to clean laundry.” It was one of the many things Bobby had taught him recently and was, in Castiel’s opinion, one of the most tedious.
“Laundry’s easy compared to doing a whole damn house,” Dean griped, “Hopefully, I didn’t screw things up too badly. I kind of broke the vacuum cleaner, but I managed to get it working again. I’m not used to all this domestic crap.”
“Neither am I, but it appears to be a necessary part of human life.” Sometimes it seemed like the entirety of human life. So much time spent battling the continuous entropy of your surroundings and your own mortal body. Castiel rubbed a hand wearily across his forehead.
“This is the price we pay for normal?” said Dean in understanding.
“So it would seem.”
Dean let out a tired sigh. “I suppose it could be worse. I could always be stuck on a cleansing diet spending all my time in an office and driving a Prius.”
“Yes,” Castiel replied in vague agreement but at the moment he couldn’t see how either life could be preferable.
Chapter 10
Title: Practically Human 9/18
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 9
Castiel trailed his fingers across the textured surface of the yellowing paper as he gently flipped to the next page in the book, but found his eyes unwilling to focus on the script that covered it. He stretched out his stiff vertebrae and shifted into a more comfortable position before trying again. The Sumerian words came easily to him as any other language and he made it half-way down the page only to find himself distracted by an itch on his knee. He scratched it irritably.
He wondered what he’d be doing now if he was still a member of his garrison. Watching? Guarding? Fighting? Now, he read, cooked, bought groceries, did laundry, all paltry, pointless, human things. He’d laid siege to hell fighting thousands of demon spawn, he’d watched mountains rise and fall beneath the ocean, he’d flown from one pole to the other and between the stars, and here he was reading a book that was more often wrong than right.
Shifting his position in the chair again, Castiel scratched his fingers against his cheek and then rubbed a hand over his chest. The constant sensation of the clothing against his skin was irritating and the skin itself felt tight and constraining.
“You alright, Feathers?” asked Bobby from where he sat at his desk across the room. “You’ve been acting like you’ve got ants in your pants or something.”
Castiel felt the urge to roll his eyes at the human’s incessant need to use bizarre metaphors. At least, the metaphors Bobby used were more comprehensible than Dean’s.
“I’m fine,” the former angel grumbled bad-temperedly. “I’m merely… bored.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Well, maybe it’s time you found something to do with your life, unless you intend to keep me company the rest of my days.”
“And what should I do with my life?” Castiel tossed the book he had been trying to read aside. “What could I possibly do that is remotely worthwhile in this state?”
“Right, because nothing a human could do could be anywhere near as important as the duties of an angel of the lord,” Bobby shot back sarcastically.
“So much of what you do is meaningless and accomplishes little.”
“Well, that depends on your perspective, doesn’t it,” said Bobby his voice icy and quickly rising to a much higher temperature. “Maybe if you took your high and mighty head out of the heavenly clouds, you might realize that it doesn’t take angel powers to do some good in this world and what you consider little means a hell of a lot to us humans!”
Castiel didn’t bother to reply. He merely shook his head and left the room still rubbing irritably at his chest.
******
“I’m sorry about last night,” Dean said later.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Castiel insisted. He’d been more concerned about the fact Dean had been drunk than the way he’d acted when inebriated. Thankful, the former hunter sounded much more sober that evening.
Dean let out a sheepish chuckle. “I’m not even sure what I said. All I remember is you calling and me ranting on about stuff. I guess everything just kind of hit me.”
“But you’re better now?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Dean said his tone hesitant. “I spent half the day with the mother of all hangovers and the other half trying to make things up to Lisa.”
“She’s angry with you?”
Dean snorted. “I come home drunk off my ass and raving about hell scaring both her and Ben. Yeah, I’d say she’s fairly pissed off.”
“I’m sure she’s mostly concerned.” At least, Castiel hoped she would be if she truly cared about Dean.
“Maybe,” replied Dean sounding unconvinced. “I tried cleaning the house as an apology though I doubt that helped much. I spent half an hour just trying to get the damn streaks out of the mirrors. Did you know there’s a different type of cleaning product for just about every part of the house?”
“No, I did not. I have only just learned how to clean laundry.” It was one of the many things Bobby had taught him recently and was, in Castiel’s opinion, one of the most tedious.
“Laundry’s easy compared to doing a whole damn house,” Dean griped, “Hopefully, I didn’t screw things up too badly. I kind of broke the vacuum cleaner, but I managed to get it working again. I’m not used to all this domestic crap.”
“Neither am I, but it appears to be a necessary part of human life.” Sometimes it seemed like the entirety of human life. So much time spent battling the continuous entropy of your surroundings and your own mortal body. Castiel rubbed a hand wearily across his forehead.
“This is the price we pay for normal?” said Dean in understanding.
“So it would seem.”
Dean let out a tired sigh. “I suppose it could be worse. I could always be stuck on a cleansing diet spending all my time in an office and driving a Prius.”
“Yes,” Castiel replied in vague agreement but at the moment he couldn’t see how either life could be preferable.
Chapter 10
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