taxonomites | decimus; [visual]; and not to pull your halo down

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decimus; [visual]; and not to pull your halo down

He's never woken up before. At least, before the week he'd been pulled from his vessel. But that's just what Castiel has just done, and he wakes up to something strange -- not that waking up isn't strange, itself. He wakes up to uneven breathing, pain in his head and the physical feeling of his vessel - no, something tells him body, his body - throbbing with each pulse of his heart. Something claws at his insides, an angry roil, and for several minutes the angel is too shocked to say or do anything.

He can feel. He wants to cry out, he wants help, he wants someone. He feels detached, alone, weak. Castiel gropes at the device on his wrist, knowing it well enough by now to be able to turn it on. On, visual, public.

The surprisingly natural action of closing his eyes and inhaling to regain composure throws him off for a moment, and when he opens his eyes again he can see that he's on a sidewalk, horizontal. The angel is strangely not bothered by this at the moment and stays there, lifting his arm so that he can see the device. To anyone who is familiar with his usual stoic appearance, his current air is fairly... not as well-held.

"I need help."

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Oh, hell. It's a damn epidemic.

Hurriedly, Dean clicks on the tablet to visual, hoping that maybe it'll help. He doesn't know if it will, because Dean's not exactly good at the whole comforting people thing, but maybe a familiar face will do wonders. All the while, Dean is crashing through Buffy's house, attempting to find his keys.

"Hold on a second, Cas, I'll be right there. Y'alright?"

It helps, although he's spending a good amount of time with his eyes closed. Castiel tries to help himself, though, willing his - his? - body to stop feeling so weighted and sit up. It's still in the planning stages, though.

"I'm not sure."

"Alright, that's a start," Dean mumbles to himself, and finally, there's his keys. Snatching them up, Dean walks briskly out of the house and to his car, fiddling with his tablet to lead him right to Castiel.

Because he's driving, it only takes a few minutes for Dean to get there. When he sees Castiel on the ground, sort of struggling to get up, Dean mutters a curse and slips out of his car, heading toward the angel.

"Hey, Cas. Fallen and now you can't get up?" Dean asks, kneeling next to the guy, eyebrow raised.

Castiel steadies himself on his elbows, looking up through tousled hair at Dean. Not funny. This is Castiel's Not Funny, Dean face, see?

"I don't know what happened," he says, taking a deep breath like someone who just learned how to do it for the actual need to survive about ten minutes ago, which is the case. "But you..." okay, pause for discomfort in the cranium, "... you may be closer than you think."

Not funny face--? Oh, oops. Dean realizes what he said and the connotation behind it when Castiel speaks, and looks sheepish. Sorry, Castiel, Dean doesn't think before he speaks.

"... Crap, Cas, you're not human, are you?" Dean asks, very nearly facepalming. First Anna, now Castiel? Okay, not cool, Taxon. Not cool.

God knows - or maybe not - why he's feeling slightly impatient, but he is. "It's very likely."

He closes his eyes, pauses and sighs before managing to sit up, head dropping a little.

"And... also uncomfortable."

"Yeah, well. That's what being human's like." Dean rolls his eyes before shifting forward to help support Castiel and help him stand. He'll be checking Castiel for a concussion too, since it'll actually affect the guy now.

"C'mon, lemme help you to my car. Gotta make sure you didn't hit your head too hard. You remember everything, right? No memory gaps--" Dean stops as a question occurs to him. He asks it as he throws Castiel's arm around his shoulder when they're standing. "Is Jimmy still in there?"

He accepts the help, leaning a little into the support once his arm is in place, but Dean's question makes him turn his head to look at him -- then look away.

"I doubt it."

Well then. Dean has more questions, but he figures his main concern should be checking for injuries. They can deal with the Jimmy issue later if they need to. For now, Dean helps Castiel stumble (and wow, that's a word he'd never thought he'd use to describe Castiel walking) to the Impala, feeling the deja vu as he sets Castiel down in the front seat.

"You freaking angels and your needing to be rescued," Dean grumbles. "I better get extra cookies for this in the afterlife."

Don't worry, he's only grumbling because he's worrying.

It's a new one for Cas, too, so he'll gladly take the sitting down in the seat to the unsteady walking. He watches Dean as he complains, one hand on his stomach, clenching the fabric of his shirt as his insides continue to protest.

"... Thank you."

Dean lowers himself to eye level with Castiel, squatting next to the car and watching Castiel hold his stomach. Was there something wrong there?

... And then Castiel says thanks, and Dean pauses, glancing up at the angel turned human with a non-committal expression on his face. Secretly that thank you means a lot, but hell if Dean's going to show it.

"Not a problem, Cas, you'd do the same for me." Dean replies, and then gestures to Castiel's stomach. "Something wrong with your stomach?"

The look he gives Dean is flat, almost a 'seriously?'. "I don't know. It... could be hunger," he says, thinking of Dean's speech post-Jimmy. "I'm not exactly experienced in being human."

Oh, shush, Castiel, Dean's as new to this whole 'treating the angel like a human' thing too. Dean's returning look is half exasperated, half I-told-you-so.

"I told you to eat, didn't I?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow. "Look, I'll go get you something to eat if you tell me what sounds good, yeah?"

Cas shrugs vaguely, thinking about food. Which only makes things worse.

"A... sandwich?" Hell if he really knows. His food vocab is still limited.

Dean probably should have figured that. Nodding, Dean stands up straight and troops off to a hatch, summoning up a simple turkey sandwich. Easy enough, something to start with. Dean will be introducing Castiel to the wonders of bacon later.

When he gets back, he offers the sandwich to Castiel.

"Try not to eat too fast. I'm so not giving you CPR."

He nods and takes the sandwich. Castiel studies it for a moment, knowing by now how eating is supposed to work, then takes a bite, pauses, chews a couple of times, pauses, and so on.

So the angel looks like a total noob at eating, but oh, wow. He really is hungry. Now he can sort of understand why Dean had been so angry with him.

Dean can't help grinning while Castiel eats, because it's so jerky and uncoordinated. But at least the guy's stomach won't be eating itself. Dean leans against the car and waits for Castiel to finish.

"Now you know why I told you to eat," Dean can't help saying. His gloating doesn't last long, though, since he's thinking of how much he's going to have to babysit.

~~Castiel can probably handle himself, even if Dean has no faith in the matter.~~

He nods, mouth full, but doesn't say anything. Yes, Dean, you were right.

And cue rolling his eyes. He hadn't been joking when he'd told Kaylee Castiel was a man of few words.

"Alright, so what next?" Dean mumbles to himself, scratching at his neck. "Food, you probably need to drink something, uh."

He swallows, and it's like swallowing sandpaper. "I am thirsty, yes," he manages to say.

"Yeah, I figured. Be right back," and Dean leaves and comes back, this time with a Coke. Best thing to drink with a sandwich, in Dean's opinion. He also brought a water bottle, just in case. Dean might not be conscious about taking care of himself sometimes, but he's damn good at taking care of other people.

"Here. Same as the sandwich, drink slowly. Especially with this, it's fizzy," Dean explains, wondering if Castiel's ever actually drank anything like this.

Also, Dean has decided that, depending on how long this lasts, he's totally getting Castiel a beer.

Castiel takes the Coke from Dean, eyeing it in much the same way he did the beer. He'd rather the water, to be honest, but he'll humour Dean. So it's not really Cas' fault when he sips the liquid and coughs in surprise.

Dean was... sort of expecting that. But he's almost a little excited, like he's waiting to hear what Castiel thinks. He hands the water bottle to Castiel, looking half expectant, half apologetic.

Cas takes a drink of the water first to get that uncomfortable sensation out of his mouth, swallows and pauses.

"It's better than beer." There's a hint of a smile as he drinks some more water. "I'm... feeling better."

And now Dean is pleased. Better than beer is better than nothing. And, well, Castiel's stomach isn't eating itself now. Dean leans against his car and gives Castiel a grin.

"Good," Dean replies. He pauses for a minute, and then shifts. "... Man, this place is weird. You're such a wimpy human."

He's teasing, he really is.

"Thank you," Castiel says dryly, finishing off the water. Breathe in, breathe out. In, out.

"The car smells."

"No problem," Dean answers, grinning. Which quickly shifts to indignant, since there's no way in Hell his car smells.

"It does not!" Dean protests.

Well, Castiel's not sure if he'd say it smells bad... it just smells. He's never noticed.

"What now?"

Yeah, well, Dean takes offense to that and is now pouting vaguely from where he's standing. But Castiel speaks up and Dean glances down at him, not really sure what to do next. There's a lot of things Dean had planned to show Castiel if he'd ever been human (not that Dean was expecting it, but it was always good to be prepared?), and he's running through his checklist.

"... Hell, I don't know. What do you want to do?" Dean asks. And he's just letting Castiel pick now, because later they're going drinking, weather Castiel likes it or not.

Cas sighs, having the sneaking suspicion that Dean has compiled such a list, but he honestly has no idea of what comes next.

"Should I risk leaving it to you?"

"You think that's a good idea?" Dean asks in return, grinning. "'Cause if you don't have anything else, we're going drinking."

One thing that Castiel is discovering about being human is that it's harder to keep his thoughts in.

"Is that all you can think about?" It comes out as a mutter as he sniffs at the Coke again.

Ow, Castiel, way to hit a sensitive spot. Dean's expression flickers for a moment, but the grin wins and stays.

"Nah. I think about chicks and food, too," Dean replies, since being a smartass is totally the way to go when talking to an angel.

Totally. Cas decides not to say anything to that, and instead gingerly rubs the back of his head where he hit the ground. It's a little sore, but not unbearable.

"I'd rather become a little more used to this, first."

"Alright, then what? Not like there's much to do here," Dean replies.

"I don't know."

Dean rolls his eyes. "You're helpful. Alright, how about this. Y'still hungry?"

A pause. "Yes."

"Alright, then we're getting some pie. It's a crime you haven't had any before now."

Well, it certainly sounds more inviting than the drinking at this stage, since astoundingly Castiel is indeed still hungry.

"Alright."

Dean goes around his car and slides into the driver's seat, making sure Castiel's settled and in the car all the way before driving to the Burnt Toast Diner. He's pretty sure Charlie makes the best pies, and she leaves them out for him sometimes. Time to see if that's the case now.

When they get there, Dean parks and glances at Castiel.

"You need help still, or can you manage walking on your own?"

And Cas will just be over here reminding himself that he has to breathe. In, out. In - okay.

"I'll be fine." And with that, he shoulders open the creaky car door, looking marginally less crappy than he did earlier.

Castiel's got this sort of concentrated look on his face that Dean finds amusing. But he doesn't say anything about it, just climbs out of his car and leads the way into the diner.

And sure enough, just like he'd hoped, there's pie on the counter. Relatively warm, as Dean finds out, holding his hand above it. He takes it to the table and settles down.

"This is apple, I think. Smells like it. Go ahead, get a slice, try some." Clearly, Dean is excited.

Castiel sits down, looks at the pie, looks at Dean, then takes a shot at getting himself a piece. One thing he's found about being human is that there's so much work involved; he can't just 'bamf' (as Dean puts it) back and forth or skip some steps in order to obtain things. Beyond the initial grudging, it's almost... nice. Right now, though, it's tiring.

Anyway, in the middle of almost getting a piece, Cas looks around for a plate. Or a fork. Or something with which to eat pie.

Oh, right. Plates. Forks. Those are necessary for pie. Dean sighs and gets up to go hunt for them. It takes a few minutes of rummaging under the counter, but he finds two plates and two forks and brings them back to the table.

Not that he's forgetting that Castiel is human, but it takes a few seconds for Dean to remember that he can't do all of the bamfing and suddenly making things appear stuff. He slides the plate and fork over to Castiel, and proceeds to get his own slice.

The moment he's got it, he's shoving a fork in his mouth. Oh, pie. Never stop being delicious.

Castiel may look like he's being slow, but he's not. He reaches to get a piece for himself, pauses, finding something uncomfortable like someone finding a tweak in their side -- then slowly takes the trenchcoat off, letting it fall to the seat behind him before trying again.

Cas cuts himself a piece, following Dean's lead, putting it on the plate. He eyes it before getting himself a forkful, again copying Dean, and taking a bite.

Cue subtle expression of: whoa.

Dean watches, slightly curious. He's trying to think of a time that he's ever seen Castiel without the trenchcoat, and he's drawing a blank. The lack of the coat makes Castiel look about two times smaller, and makes him look a hell of a lot more vulnerable.

Well, and not to mention Dean's waiting to see if the pie causes a reaction or not. There's not much of a reaction, but hey, it's there, and Dean grins widely.

"Good?"

Castiel's chewing more like a normal person now. Of course, he nods.

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decimus; [visual]; and not to pull your halo down

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