On being brought back from the dead.

[demojoed]

I don't understand the purpose of this activity. I must call into question your decision-making skills. I am of no use as a human- the only ties which would necessitate my return are purely sentimental, and have likely been severed by my betrayal of trust.

I am of no use in this form, and considering the fact that I no longer possess my vessel's original attire, referring to me as a baby in a trench-coat is an inaccurate statement.

Technically, it was an over-coat.

Comments

[demojoed]

[For a second, he was concerned he was doing it wrong. Impossible, he observed many hugs- by Sam and Dean, and also by people on television. Occasionally, by hugging couples. He was almost certain this is how it went. One person wraps their arms around the other to initiate the hug, and the other responds in turn. They hold anywhere from two to five seconds- longer, if the couple is romantic-, and then separate. Perhaps Dean was unused to hugging.

And then the hug was returned, except tightly. Oh. That's what he'd been doing wrong. His arms tightened in response, and he felt... strange. A feeling in his chest he couldn't identify. It made him... happy and sad at the same time, and something else. Oh- the feeling- all these weird human things, how do they live with it?

Castiel understood, now, why people hugged.

And then Dean was pulling away, and the look of consternation on his face as the feeling disappeared only lasted a second, completely derailed by the mention of food. He nearly salivated.]

That would make me... very happy. The food they served in the medical facility was... less than appealing, and I had no money to buy any afterward.

[heavensfreeride]

Yeah, I'll bet.

[ It wasn't as though Dean himself was a stranger to hospitals or the cardboard-like, tasteless mush that constituted as food in those places. There was a small part of him that wondered just how long Castiel had been in the hospital for and what would have happened had he not have run into him now. Would the ex-angel have tracked him down? Did he even know how to use a computer? Yeah, probably not.

Now, he needed to set the newly human, Castiel up. Food, money, clothes and then ... a safe place to stay. But he'd get to that one later. Thinking back, he remembered having past a place a mile or so away, a diner. That would be a start.

Motioning for Castiel to follow him, Dean walks back to his car. ]

Let me take you someplace where you can get something to eat. And ... [ He takes in the man's slightly rumpled appearance and sighs, before nodding at the coat in Castiel's hands. ] You might wanna put that on. You look like you just fell from the damn sky.

[ Opening the car door, Dean gets in and immediately starts the engine. ]

[demojoed]

[He looks, just... entirely too happy about this, especially considering he doesn't really have an expression on his face. Mostly it's just a wide, pleased tone to his eyes and a tiny tug at his lips, barely there, but enough to make it evident that he's happy. He gave the jacket a shake, then slid it on over his shoulders. It added depth, thickness, making him look a little less slender, a little more grounded and a little more strong.

Still too human to look entirely like his old self, though.

He followed Dean to the car, his step a little more comfortable than it had been as an angel, and tugged the door open. Strange, doing that rather than magicking himself into the passenger's seat, but, hey, what can you do?]

I did just fall from the damn sky. [He feels it's reasonable to point out, and he tugs the door shut behind him. He glances around.] Being confined to a car is... much more pleasant when you're smaller.

[heavensfreeride]

Yeah, think Sam would have to agree with you on that one.

[ Rather than driving off after Castiel was safely in the car, Dean let the engine idle for a moment. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a generous wad of cash — his winnings from pool hustling a few nights back. It was a trick he'd have to teach Cas on another day. He held the bills up for the other to see before deftly slipping them into the inner breast pocket of Castiel's trenchcoat. There, nice and secure.

Now if anything were to happen — as it so often did in Dean's world full of the dark and nasty, then Cas would have enough money for food and shelter for at least a few more nights. ]

The language we humans speak. Afraid you're gonna have to start speaking it too now that you're living among us.

[ And with that, Dean shifted into drive, pulling away from the curb. ]

[demojoed]

[His lips quirk on one side, pulling back into an awkward half-smile as though he doesn't quite know how to do it. He gets it. Because Sam is very large, by human standards.]

Sam did not have large metaphysical wings.

[Not that they were hindered by the car, but seeing your own wings stick out of an Impala going eighty down a highway was not a very comforting thought. It gave the illusion of claustrophobia. He had never been a fan. It's not so bad, now, though. Very spacious.

Well, probably still not for Sam, but as it turns out, this vessel is rather small, by human standards.

His eyes flick down to the wad of cash, and he sits stiff and unmoving as the hand snakes into the pocket of his trench coat. What is he-

Oh. Alright. Cas understands. Dean is giving him money. Wait, why is Dean giving him money? He should ask that.]

Am I not intended to stay with you indefinitely? I see no reason to carry this.

[He certainly doesn't have any plans to go splurging, or handle any business, or money, or... well, anything, really. He usually just leaves that up to Dean. Unless Dean doesn't want him around anymore. Giving him money and kindness is really more than he deserves, though, on second thought, it was highly presumptuous to assume he was forgiven to the extent that he be allowed to stay with the brothers.

He straightened his jaw, ignored that annoying human hollow feeling in his chest, and stared firmly out the windshield.]

[heavensfreeride]

Nah, 'cause that would have looked just weird.

[ To be honest, Dean had never given Castiel's 'wings' much thought. Probably 'cause he'd never really seen them ... except for that one time. He just assumed the angel could will them to appear and will them away whenever he chose to 'cause ... that's always how it works in the movies when angels choose to walk among the humans.

Dean's eyes were primarily on the road but he couldn't help taking glances of Castiel every now and again. When was the last time they'd driven together like this? The radio was playing Stones at a low volume and Dean was finally beginning to relax a tad. Sitting in the car with this Castiel wasn't like sitting in the car with the angel Castiel ( who seemed to have a perpetual stick up his ass ) nor was it like sitting with Sam and the hundreds of unspoken doubts that seemed to flit between them so easily these days.

Being in the car with the newly human Castiel was ... nice, almost companionable. Until the next question, that was. ]

You know how it is in our line of work. Anything could happen, we could get separated. And it's not like I can give you a yell like I used to, ya know? Just wanna make sure you're not starving and sleeping on the streets.

[ Dean gives him a cheery grin, easily hiding the real emotion. Hell, he's had a lot of practice and this time Castiel won't be so damn perceptive to it since he figured that the majority of that unusual perceptiveness came from that angel mojo of his.

The roads were clear, so Dean was able to put his foot down on the gas pedal. Sooner, he was pulling up in the parking lot of the diner. ]