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daylight_darknightTitle: Practically Human 10/18
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 10
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Castiel took a moment to gaze down at Bobby who appeared rather small from the former angel’s current vantage point. The hunter had wheeled his chair a dozen feet or so from the house to get a better view and Castiel could just make out the glower he was sending in his direction.
“Admiring the view,” he called down carefully shifting into a more comfortable position on the roof, his gaze returning to the expansive land and sky in front of him.
“Are you out of your head, you birdbrained idjit?”
“Your home is small and confining. I needed to get out,” Castiel said trying to give voice to the agitation that had caused him to crawl through the upstairs bathroom window that afternoon and climb to the highest point on the roof. He rubbed the strained muscles of his neck and scratched absently at the skin over his chest.
Hands clamped tightly to the wheels of his chair, Bobby yelled back, “Usually when someone wants to get out, they go for a drive. They don’t go around risking a broken neck!”
“I have no intention of breaking my neck.”
“You’d find that a hell of a lot easier to do without the whiskey!”
Castiel glanced over at the bottle balanced precariously on the roof beside him, one he’d snatched from Bobby’s abundant liquor supply earlier that day. He’d almost forgotten it was there though obviously not completely since it was now only half full and he was sure it had been all there when he’d started his climb.
Bobby spoke again his voice developing an anxious edge. “If you want to drink, at least be sensible about it and do it inside.”
“No,” Castiel said taking a swig of the whiskey to demonstrate his non-compliance.
“Idjit, you don’t have wings anymore. If you fall off, you’re not going to be able to just fly away. Come down!”
Castiel swallowed heavily and set the bottle back down. “Why don’t you get out of that chair, climb up here and make me?”
Bobby gazed at him narrowly from deep under the brim of his cap. His lips were drawn back into a thin line, his jaw tight. “Fine. Stay up there, but if you’re still alive after you hit the ground, you can call for the damn ambulance yourself!”
Not bothering to watch him leave, Castiel instead turned his eyes back to the horizon line.
The cry of an eagle suddenly broke through the air and he looked up to see it swooping above him catching the wind with its wide wings. He reached for the whiskey but misjudged knocking it over. The bottle rolled down the slopped roof and over the edge smashing loudly against the ground below where it formed a dark puddle full of shattered glass.
******
“Are you okay?” asked Dean. “You sound a bit…”
“I’m fine,” Castiel proclaimed tersely. The whiskey he had drunk earlier had worn off and he was already starting to feel a mild hangover. Despite Bobby’s beliefs, he hadn’t broken his neck and had gotten down off the roof with only a few slips and missteps.
“Okay. Okay,” the former hunter replied backing off. “Lisa and I had a bit of a talk yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“Actually, it was kind of a long talk. You know how women are.”
“No.” His first foray into the world of human woman and sex had proven fairly disastrous and he had yet to pursue further interest. He supposed he should. Dean always seemed to find them distracting, but Castiel seemed unable to call up the enthusiasm for such things at the moment.
“Oh, right. I guess you wouldn’t.” Dean cleared his throat and moved the conversation in a different direction. “Well, the end result is I’m going to be getting a job. Seeing as how I’m supposed to be living this apple pie life, I guess I need to actually start living.”
“That’s true.”
“I’m thinking mechanic or something. Lisa thinks I could be something more, but it’s not like I have a lot of qualifications.” Dean let out along sigh. “Not sure how things are going to stand between me and her. I might have thrown myself into her life a bit fast. Kind of need to see how things go.”
“I see.”
There was a pause and then Dean asked, “Are you sure you’re alright? I mean you’ve never been a big talker, but tonight you’re practically monosyllabic.”
“I’m… I’m merely tired,” Castiel replied though the word seemed inadequate to express how he actually felt.
“Okay…” said Dean in a puzzled tone. “I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”
“Okay.”
Hanging up, Castiel placed the phone on the bedside table beside him. He stared up at the ceiling, but only for a moment before pushing himself off the bed and heading for the small window in the east wall. The sight of the stars beyond the smudged glass helped relieve the pressure he felt from the encroaching walls surrounding him, but it did little to help with the pressure he felt from the enclosing flesh. He ran his nails over his bare arms before scrapping them across his sternum, the thin white scars of the sigils standing out starkly against the red skin.
Chapter 11
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 10
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Castiel took a moment to gaze down at Bobby who appeared rather small from the former angel’s current vantage point. The hunter had wheeled his chair a dozen feet or so from the house to get a better view and Castiel could just make out the glower he was sending in his direction.
“Admiring the view,” he called down carefully shifting into a more comfortable position on the roof, his gaze returning to the expansive land and sky in front of him.
“Are you out of your head, you birdbrained idjit?”
“Your home is small and confining. I needed to get out,” Castiel said trying to give voice to the agitation that had caused him to crawl through the upstairs bathroom window that afternoon and climb to the highest point on the roof. He rubbed the strained muscles of his neck and scratched absently at the skin over his chest.
Hands clamped tightly to the wheels of his chair, Bobby yelled back, “Usually when someone wants to get out, they go for a drive. They don’t go around risking a broken neck!”
“I have no intention of breaking my neck.”
“You’d find that a hell of a lot easier to do without the whiskey!”
Castiel glanced over at the bottle balanced precariously on the roof beside him, one he’d snatched from Bobby’s abundant liquor supply earlier that day. He’d almost forgotten it was there though obviously not completely since it was now only half full and he was sure it had been all there when he’d started his climb.
Bobby spoke again his voice developing an anxious edge. “If you want to drink, at least be sensible about it and do it inside.”
“No,” Castiel said taking a swig of the whiskey to demonstrate his non-compliance.
“Idjit, you don’t have wings anymore. If you fall off, you’re not going to be able to just fly away. Come down!”
Castiel swallowed heavily and set the bottle back down. “Why don’t you get out of that chair, climb up here and make me?”
Bobby gazed at him narrowly from deep under the brim of his cap. His lips were drawn back into a thin line, his jaw tight. “Fine. Stay up there, but if you’re still alive after you hit the ground, you can call for the damn ambulance yourself!”
Not bothering to watch him leave, Castiel instead turned his eyes back to the horizon line.
The cry of an eagle suddenly broke through the air and he looked up to see it swooping above him catching the wind with its wide wings. He reached for the whiskey but misjudged knocking it over. The bottle rolled down the slopped roof and over the edge smashing loudly against the ground below where it formed a dark puddle full of shattered glass.
******
“Are you okay?” asked Dean. “You sound a bit…”
“I’m fine,” Castiel proclaimed tersely. The whiskey he had drunk earlier had worn off and he was already starting to feel a mild hangover. Despite Bobby’s beliefs, he hadn’t broken his neck and had gotten down off the roof with only a few slips and missteps.
“Okay. Okay,” the former hunter replied backing off. “Lisa and I had a bit of a talk yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“Actually, it was kind of a long talk. You know how women are.”
“No.” His first foray into the world of human woman and sex had proven fairly disastrous and he had yet to pursue further interest. He supposed he should. Dean always seemed to find them distracting, but Castiel seemed unable to call up the enthusiasm for such things at the moment.
“Oh, right. I guess you wouldn’t.” Dean cleared his throat and moved the conversation in a different direction. “Well, the end result is I’m going to be getting a job. Seeing as how I’m supposed to be living this apple pie life, I guess I need to actually start living.”
“That’s true.”
“I’m thinking mechanic or something. Lisa thinks I could be something more, but it’s not like I have a lot of qualifications.” Dean let out along sigh. “Not sure how things are going to stand between me and her. I might have thrown myself into her life a bit fast. Kind of need to see how things go.”
“I see.”
There was a pause and then Dean asked, “Are you sure you’re alright? I mean you’ve never been a big talker, but tonight you’re practically monosyllabic.”
“I’m… I’m merely tired,” Castiel replied though the word seemed inadequate to express how he actually felt.
“Okay…” said Dean in a puzzled tone. “I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”
“Okay.”
Hanging up, Castiel placed the phone on the bedside table beside him. He stared up at the ceiling, but only for a moment before pushing himself off the bed and heading for the small window in the east wall. The sight of the stars beyond the smudged glass helped relieve the pressure he felt from the encroaching walls surrounding him, but it did little to help with the pressure he felt from the enclosing flesh. He ran his nails over his bare arms before scrapping them across his sternum, the thin white scars of the sigils standing out starkly against the red skin.
Chapter 11
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-11 02:47 am (UTC)Laurie
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-11 05:09 pm (UTC)Looking forward to more. :D
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-11 10:40 pm (UTC)But, then again, Nicholas Cage is no Misha Collins, so that's an unfair fight.
Another line killed me.
Oh, Cas! Really? Is the whiskey gonna solve your problems? Please don't take after Dean on this.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-12 01:21 am (UTC)I'm crushed by a small detail that still says a lot: Cas referring to Bobby's house as "your home." Bobby may be old and tough, but HE STILL LOVES CAS CUZ HE'S ONE OF HIS IDJITS. D: Hopefully Cas will know that when stuff is sorted out and there's a moment. With talking. And hugs.
Dean mayhaps has caught on to something!