One broken angel (homeless, desperately looking, voicetesting)

[betterthisway]

I, I don't really understand.

It would be of better use for me to follow the bees. Listen to the grass. Contemplate... pants, pants are good. Why...

Yes, I agree. Not you. No, of course I know he is not real. The conversation is still.... enlightening... when you say games... Sorry, maybe? Or Twister. Twister would be enjoyable. Even alone, if you insist there is only me. But then we're a few species short, mun.

Mun? Why mundane? No human is munade. You are all... all... although, sometimes boring. But pants. And Twister. So, so there's that, right?

Comments

[betterthisway]

Yes. They are my favorites. Honey bees are... interesting, too. Bees in general. But bumblebees are. We should watch them, I mean.

[He considers his twin to be past!him and feels something like guilt over what he'll go through yet. The things that happen between him and him, as it were. His head doesn't want to wrap around it, and he tries to steer clear of those thoughts. He doesn't like conflict, and that includes... memories.]

Jeezus, remind me not to post from an iPad like, ever. so many mistakes orz

[trenchcoat]

[Castiel recalls the story he told Lucifer just days ago, about how he remembers bees. How he remembers their introduction and being told of their great importance. He remembers hearing a story that said bumblebees should not be capable of flight and that because no one had ever told this to the bees that they continued to fly. He'd liked that story. It's complete nonsense, of course, because He created them and He doesn't make mistakes, or so Cas had once naively believed.

With the fond memory in mind, he decides to indulge his counterpart.]

I would like that.

Just imagine Cas typing on an iPad.

[betterthisway]

Good.

[And Castiel smiles. Of course, he does. His hand slips into the other Castiel's, and then he just tugs him along instead of flying.]

Tell me. How are you?

[Castiel wonders where he's from, exactly. The state of his Grace says a lot, but talking is nicer than probing. Sometimes. He's not sure he's comfortable being silent with himself, as it were. Too much like being back in the ward, maybe.]

XD I don't imagine it would last very long.

[trenchcoat]

[Cas typically doesn't like being touched by anyone, although there are a few (okay, there's only one) notable exception. Other angels are always different from humans though, always bittersweet, because they feel so much like home. A warm, pleasant feeling, but one that reminds him of a place he can no longer tread.

He allows himself to be taken by the hand, but doesn't do much more than let his hand stay in the familiar embrace, not gripping back.

It's a curious question, one that Castiel thinks surely the other must know just from the look of his Grace alone, but he obliges while wondering where he's being lead to.]

I am... concerned.

[Concerned about a lot of things, but most pressingly, - the impending apocalypse aside - he's concerned about the broken angel at his side asking him to describe how he's feeling.]

It would wind up a coaster for the beer Dean would need after witnessing the failure

[betterthisway]

Why?

[Castiel smiles, happily dragging himself along. He looks as if he doesn't have a care in the world anymore - it's a far cry from the truth, of course.]

You should worry less. Look at more bumblebees. The Apocalpyse will be fine. I mean. NOt fine. But. You know. It won't happen. Of course, then you will go and break everything, but, you know, you really shouldn't be concerned. Unless it's about bumblebees. Or honey bees, honey is good, too.

[And then he stops dead in his tracks and turns around, coming to stand almost nose-tip to nose-tip with his younger self.]

Cherish it. Everything. I'm sorry for breaking it. No one cares that I'm sorry, of course. But. Cherish things now.

[He looks distressed, fidgets with his coat and the plastic wristband, and not quite meeting his counterpart's eyes. Castiel misses the times when his waning Grace was his biggest source of discomfort.]

ROFLMAO. On a side note, tell me this thread is as heartbreaking for you as it is for me ;;

[trenchcoat]

[It feels stupid to only be noticing it now, but Cas recognizes the blue plastic wristband and the matching loose-fitting white scrubs and what they symbolize from his own time spent in a hospital on Earth. How has all this happened? Bits he can piece together, but there is so much that he doesn't know.

Seeing the pain and anguish mirrored in his own eyes, Cas lays a gentle hand on his counterpart's shoulder and offers what he hopes is a tender, caring smile.]

Do you want to talk about it?

I'm just sitting here going HELP HELP HELP ALL THESE FEELS SOMEBODY HELP pretty much all the time

[betterthisway]

[Castiel freezes, quite literally. He just stops mid-fidgets and stares at the other angel - dimly, part of him now realizes why his trying to be comforting makes other people cringe. But the bigger, larger part of him... The thoughts explode on the forefront of his mind; the civil war, the pact with Crowley, the secrets, the battles, the sacrifices, the lies, the betrayals, the deaths, the pain, the souls, the wall, the Leviathans, the lake, the amnesia, the solution, the hallucinations, the ward. He makes a distressed sound, and then he is all motion again, mind locking down against the assault of mental anguish.]

Come. Bumblebees.

[He grips the other Castiel's hand like a drowning man would grip at anything, anything at all, to keep him afloat just a moment longer.]

YOU ARE DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB WITH ALL THESE FEELS LET ME TELL YOU so good;;

[trenchcoat]

[This time, sensing the need for something to help anchor him, Castiel grips back. It hadn't been a particularly probing question, if it could be called that at all, but Cas supposes it was enough to serve as an unpleasant reminder.]

I am sorry. [Cas sounds contrite, then tries to smile to show he really meant nothing by it and really is interested in what his-older-self has to show him.] Please. Take me to your bees.