Destiel One-Shots

Passing Notes Like A Middle Schooler

   Castiel was struggling. As an angel, he understood what was expected of him. Things made sense. But now, since losing his grace? Everything was chaotic. Thirst, hunger, emotions. It was all too much to handle. This past week alone, Castiel had developed a much healthier respect for the Winchesters. Although sometimes poor examples of well adjusted human beings, they at least had some semblance of control over their humanity. Things that he couldn't make heads or tails of made sense to them. It was incredibly frustrating for a being that was millions of years old.

   "You doing okay there, Cas?" Dean's voice greets him, curling around him like some kind of safety blanket. Cas ignores him, merely staring down at his temperamental and uncooperative ham sandwich. Eating was still new to him, and unfortunately he was starving. However, for whatever reason, he couldn't figure out how to make this particular sandwich look as appetizing as the ones that Dean makes for him. Did he really have to be so useless now?

"Cas?" Dean's voice is closer now, and much more difficult to ignore. Still, he just shrugs his shoulders. Something dark is slowly curling up in his chest and preventing him from speaking. He still can, of course. He's just finding that he doesn't want to. It isn't until Dean is beside him, and moving to help him, that he finds his voice.

   "I'm fine, Dean." He grumbles, moving his sandwich out of Dean's reach. Dean sighs softly beside him, letting his hand fall to rest on Cas's shoulder instead.

"Damnit, Cas." He breathes. "We're worried about you." Cas stiffens involuntarily. He doesn't like the idea of people worrying over him like a child.

"I'm fine, Dean." He repeats, shrugging Dean's hand off and taking several steps away. He turns his head to give Dean a cold look. "I'm not a child. I do not require your supervision." Dean's face registers shock for a moment before hardening into something more stern.

   "I never said you were." Dean bites back. "I'm just worried about you. That's all. I know how hard this had been for you, how hard it's been for all of us, but it seems to be taking quite a toll on you. You seem... I don't know. Depressed." Dean looks almost helpless by the end, but that doesn't stop the anger from flaring up in Cas's eyes.

   "Depressed?" Cas growls out. "I can't imagine why I would be depressed." Dean frowns at the sarcasm, realizing that he is definitely having a decidedly bad influence on his best friend. "Dean, I lost my grace. I lost the very essence of what made me who I am. I don't even know what I am anymore. I'm not an angel, but I'm also not entirely human." He balls his hands into fists, now turning away from the hunter. "When I was an angel, everything worked. Now, I'm stuck in this fragile human body and I'm not even sure how to take care of it. I'm feeling things I was never hardwired to feel." His shoulder slump in defeat as his words taper off.

Dean approaches Cas carefully, almost as if the man were a frightened and injured animal who could take off at a single moments notice. "Cas, let us help you. Asking for help isn't being weak." Cas scoffs at his words, turning a fiery gaze his way.

   "You don't understand, Dean." He growls out aggressively. Dean looks shocked for a moment at the sudden shift in Cas's mood, but seems to take it in stride as he moves to take a step closer to Cas. Cas pulls himself up to his full height, glaring at the hunter, before turning and walking away. He feels Dean's eyes burning holes into his back, but he doesn't turn to meet his gaze. He strides out of the kitchen, stomach protesting his decision to leave the traitorous sandwich behind.

   Once in his room, Cas slumps down on the bed, not even bothering to slide under the covers or even take his shoes off. His whole body aches in ways he isn't used to. His stomach grumbles in hunger again, making him frown. He rolls over onto his side, so his back is facing the door, and closes his eyes. He desperately wants to sleep, but he finds sleep to be a frustratingly elusive thing. Try as he might, he never seems to be able to actually drift off. He can already feel the negative effects of his insomnia pulling at his mind and body alike.