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[ Especially when you eat your coat. ]

Yeah, probably.

[ He keeps rooting through the rubble though, like he's missing something, frowning as he moves rocks and debris. ]

Where's your trench?

[ yeah, they ain't getting that back. cas narrows his eyes as he attempts to wiggle the memory free. he knows he was here, he remembers rooting around in the debris for something—

oh. ]

I think I ate it.

[ He pauses in his search, looks over at Cas, brow raised. ]

You ate it?

Uh... Yes.

[ pretty sure that one wasn't a hallucination. ]

[ He presses his lips together in a thin line, and if Cas and he were strangers, he'd probably look pissed.

Instead, he's trying very, very hard to hold in a laugh. ]

Oh.

[ he narrows his eyes, because he might be awful at reading the emotions of other people, but— ]

It isn't funny.

Well--

[ He swallows the laugh and picks his way back over to Cas now that he knows the coat isn't buried, and drapes his arms around Cas' shoulders. ]

It's a little funny.

[ he rests his forehead against dean's shoulder without thinking about it; his eyes close automatically. dean is warm, and the smell is considerably better now that he's left the head behind. he slips his cold, clammy hands up underneath the sides of his shirt, fingers spread wide against his rib cage, leeching heat. ]

I'm sure I had a good reason for it, at the time.

Mm yeah. Probably.

[ He shivers a little when Cas sticks those hands on him, then eases back to shrug out of the flannel he has on under the jacket. ]

Take this too.

[ he'd rather dean stay close and let him cling, but he supposes they have to be moving, so he'll take the flannel. slipping the coat off so he can shoulder the shirt on, and then layering the coat over it. up close, dean might glance the smattering of faint, silvery scars across his body: one stretching from his eyebrow to the outer corner of his eye, almost too faint to see; another curving over the saddle of his shoulder; one straight down his chest; and another cutting across his belly just beneath his navel. the one between his pecs is the most prominent, but it'll probably fade with time, alongside all the rest. he finishes buttoning the flannel with his unsteady hands, and immediately slips them back beneath dean's shirt.

at least the flannel hangs down far enough to almost cover him. ]

[ He can't help but look, stare at those scares and wonder who gave them to Cas; he knows who gifted him one by his eye, but the others he isn't sure.

Cas sticks his hands back up under Dean's shirt and he shivers again before draping his jacket back over Cas' shoulders, too. ]

We need to get you somewhere warm once we find your stuff. Can you walk?

Yeah.

[ he can. he thinks. his body is sore, and he's cold and he's tired, but he's not incapacitated yet. he will be, though, if they wait too long— so he takes his hands from dean's shirt and stands after answering, wincing at the uncomfortable sensation of plunging his feet back into the murky water. ]

Let's go.

I think there's some extra boots in that duffle.

[ If Cas wants something on his feet. But they're going to get wet, so it's really up to him. ]

[ they're going to get wet, aren't they? but it's probably the better option, so he digs them out and sets them aside. first, before the boots go on, he steals a pair of dean's boxers and slides them up his hips. they're wet, and cold, and uncomfortable. but they'll dry out with enough walking around, and at least it affords him some protection. then he pulls the boots on, lacing them clumsily. his grace will restore itself in a number of days, but if he cuts his foot and gets an infection, he'll be useless until it's strong enough to heal him.

he'd rather not have to deal with all that. ]

All right.

I know wet stuff sucks, but it’ll keep your feet protected. I don’t imagine Jimmy has many callouses.

[ he Rests a hand on Cas’ shoulder while he ties the shoes, then helps him stand once he’s done. ]

Okay. Let’s go get your blade and medallion.

[ wherever the fuck it ended up. ]

No. It's incredibly uncomfortable to walk barefoot.

[ he's too used to not having to worry about things like this.

but he'll make do. they'll pack up their things and go, moving precariously through the rubble. it was easier to travel the city in this state of disrepair when he was twice the height of any building, and even easier when he could fly. now his wings are too heavy and his body too weak to be of any use to him— humanoid creatures, under normal circumstances, aren't really meant to take to the sky.

it's almost an hour of scrounging around the ruined market district, cas working off of his foggy memory, to find that he stashed his things beneath one of the stalls, in a vendor's woven basket. he must have realized what was going to happen, and that it would be safer to leave his things behind voluntarily than to lose them while addle-minded.

he tucks his blade in his sleeve, cool metal warming against his skin, and his medallion in his pocket.

the sliver lining is that in picking through the market district for his things, they manage to find some food. not much of it— tikal's people were sustained mostly on a diet of meats, fresh and preserved, with very little produce to speak of. but there is some, and castiel saves what fruits and vegetables he finds that aren't ruined. he even manages to find a little jar of honey, sealed fast against the dirty water. he tucks it in dean's bag with all the rest. ]

Yeah.

[ Getting Cas' feet covered is a plus; means they don't have to worry about him slicing his foot open while he's vulnerable. Dean's boots are steel toe, they'll keep his little tootsies safe.

It's a relief to find the angels things - he'd worried they'd be lost, but evidently, Cas was still of sound mind when he'd stashed them away, for which Dean is very thankful. ]

I gotta be honest, I dunno where to go. We kinda lost our house and...everything else.

I think Coba is the closest city.

[ but he sounds tired when he says this, swaying on his feet again; he brings a hand up and wipes his brow. ]

We need to get out of this place. The incense here is too thick.

Yeah. Maybe we can camp out and rest, then see about trekking somewhere else.

[ He hefts the duffle bag on his shoulder, sliding closer to Cas and easing an arm around his waist. ]

You still okay?

I am. For now.

[ he leans into dean's body, or maybe it's just that he's struggling to stand straight. dean's warm, either way. ]

Are you—

[ it's not a full question. are you okay? is a stupid question, and he doesn't know why he would think it's a good idea to ask it. he glances from dean with a small, recriminating frown on his face. then he looks up— up toward the walls of sheer cliff surrounding the city. it's quite a sight. he still wonders at the salt, burst up from the ground. at what it means.

the market is closer to the center of the city. so they have quite a walk back. ]

I'm -- I'm good, now that you're back.

[ 'Okay', not so much. But with Cas by his side, pulled in tight and supporting him, it's better. A lot better. ]

We're okay now. We're gonna figure this out, and we're gonna find a place that's even better.

[ It's gonna take forever but they'll figure it out. They always do. ]

[ he'll take that as it's given— he inclines his head in acknowledgement, resting his cheek against his shoulder for a moment, the movement involuntary but necessary. he's tired, and he would like if they could find somewhere to rest here in the city, but even if there is someplace safe, they don't have the time to go searching for it. the walls are a visible target, at the very least. and he knows which direction coba is in.

castiel opens his eyes, lifts his head, and points. ]

That way.

Alright. Just lean on me, Cas. I'm not gonna let you fall.

[ He hopes. But he's spent a long time in Purgatory running around and killing shit, so he's in good shape, and he's strong. He'll carry Cas if he has to. ]

[ it's slow going, the state that cas is in. but dean doesn't have to carry him. it's a small stroke of luck that sees a rope and pulley system has been put in place at the edge of the city, probably during the past day while he was gone, in place of the hastily built ladders that had stretched the height of the cliffs. it's manned by a group of several natives from the coterie who stuck around, presumably to make sure everyone was successfully evacuated, and that those who chose to stay behind and work on the reconstruction have an easy way in and out of the city.

it means that castiel doesn't have to scale the wall rung over rung, and soon enough he's stepping gratefully onto solid ground, the air fresh and free of that heavy, cloying scent. ]

[ it’s a breath of fresh air, and when they finally get to the top, he wheezes in relief, taking gulps of fresh air as he grips for Cas’ hand, absently threading their fingers. ]

God I feel like I can breathe again.

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