You matter to me, [ he emphasizes, just in case it isn't clear. He'll drop it now, though his hold tightens around Cas, nose dropping into his hair to breathe him in, sweat and grime and dust and all. ]
[ they have the time, anyway. he lets dean hold onto him for a little longer before extricating himself, standing from the edge of the rock where they've been sitting. he situates himself on the ground in front of it, the earth spongy beneath him when he lies down on his side, knees tucked up to his chest.
normally, they'd lie like this together, but... ]
You'll have to keep watch. Wake me in an hour, and we can trade places.
[ it's probably the first time he's found himself thinking that it might be nice if benny were here— but then he imagines him listening in on the conversation they just had and quickly changes his mind. ]
[ he sleeps, and has strange dreams. he's never liked that, the dreaming. when he wakes, it's with the past fresh in his head, which is never a good thing when it comes to him. nor is he surprised to find that dean let him sleep too long, but when he picks himself up off the ground, he makes no comment.
truth be told, he doesn't feel all that rested. there's a pressure behind his eyes, and his head feels foggy. but he probably won't fall asleep on his feet now. and maybe he'll get lucky, and dean will actually want to— it doesn't matter. why is he thinking about it so much?
[ he doesn't know how to build a bed. he doesn't know how to build anything. dean probably knows, though, or at least has some idea. it wouldn't be that difficult, provided they can find the materials, and they aren't too picky about the final result. it's not like they're going to be able to make a spring mattress.
dean's hand rests heavy on his shoulder, and he glances down, arrested by that shiver of unreality when he looks at himself— sooner or later, the feeling will pass, but right now he may as well be somewhere else entirely. that's someone else's shoulder that dean's touching— someone else who's sitting next to him. ]
I think we could figure it out. Maybe we could find a goose to pluck. Make a nice feathery mattress, too.
[ The expression on Cas' face is weirding him the fuck out, and he's a little worried Cas is gonna muster some energy and flutter off, so Dean's hand stays there on his shoulder until he gives in and wraps it around him, pulling the angel close. ]
How hard could it be? I did construction a little while.
[ he couldn't even if he wanted to— he could manifest his wings, but what good would that do him? he's still too weak to fly for any amount of time. they'd just be weighing him down. ]
I'm sure that you could. I'll help find the things you'll need.
[ they'll have to decide where they're staying, first. it makes him feel weary to think on all that lies ahead of them: recovering, finding a city to stay in, and then returning to tikal to help rebuild. perhaps dean won't want to, once they've found somewhere to settle, but he has to do something. he's responsible for at least part of the destruction.
it's a delayed reaction, when he glances at dean's arm around him. he can feel it, the shape and the weight and warmth of it, but there's a barrier between him and that touch. he looks away, wishing he knew what dean wants. ]
[ he lets dean draw him in, feeling like a doll in his arms. it's kind of fascinating, what the human brain is capable of without any interference at all. it's not magic that's doing this to him, not incense, not black mist, but his own mind that's holding him up so separate. or maybe it should be himself who he blames. if he vacated this body, would he feel the same?
he's afraid to know.
he lets dean lay his head against his shoulder, lets him kiss his hair, and wonders what this is supposed to be. ]
I know, Cas. It's okay. You're here where you're supposed to be now. With me.
[ He cares. He cares deeply, desperately for Cas, held him when he died, whispered I love you as he faded into nothing, screamed into the ether when he didn't have a body to salt and burn, was left with nothing but shimmering dust motes that slipped between his fingers like the mist that started everything.
His grip tightens and he swallows thickly, eyes squeezing closed as he tries to shut out the memory of that grief, of watching Cas die again, of losing him and being terrified he may not come back.
He blinks back a few tears that threaten to slip out, and forces a short laugh. ]
I looked for you for hours. You'd think it wouldn't have been hard to find someone so big, but somehow you managed.
[ he frowns— he doesn't like the idea of making dean upset, and he likes seeing it even less. he can feel the tension in his body, and guilt curls in his gut. he's never been present to see how dean reacts when he dies, or what he does when he's gone. just the thought makes him uncomfortable, for a number of reasons he would rather not scrutinize too closely. ]
I might have been flying. I'm not sure you would have seen me.
[ a lot of the time, he'd been searching for dean, but he chooses not to say that. ]
[ He could've maybe calmed him down, brought him back to himself, something. Spent some time riding him like Smaug, or something. Dean Winchester, Angel Rider. ]
I mean what I said about that form. It was really cool. What's different between that and your true form?
Well, I can't manifest that way now, even if you could see it.
[ he's not sure what would happen, his grace this low. would he die? or perhaps he can't leave this body at all. the idea of being trapped in it makes his stomach dip with something like fear, and he gingerly begins to extract himself from dean's grip. he can't deal with all this soft touching right now. he needs more than that. but he doesn't know how to communicate this, and if he tells dean to stop, he'll just take it personally. ]
If you're not going to rest, perhaps we should go.
[ Cas needs to conserve his grace, get better, recharge his batteries. It's kind of strange that he's pulling away from Dean, though; so far, he's seemed to appreciate the touches Dean gives him.
He doesn't want to overwhelm or do something out of line, so he lets his hands drop, glancing behind them at their stuff on the rocks. ]
[ he wants something, and he doesn't know what he wants, or if there's any way to get it, and he's coming out of his skin about it. that frighteningly distant expression is beginning to turn to distress, although maybe only dean would notice it for what it is. he swallows and lifts his hand, touches his throat— like he's checking to see that it's done what he wants.
he thought sleeping might have helped, but it only seems to have made it worse; his dreams of heaven are still stark in his mind, bright white walls and bright white lights. pulling him out of the present. ]
[ hard to explain when you're going through it, but he'll do his best. dean's fingers digging into his shoulder help a little. he looks down at his hands, at his knees. his skin is pale with the chill. ]
I haven't felt like this since I first took this vessel. Except it wasn't so distressing, then. What's wrong with me?
[ he is going to lose his shit when he realizes he has to deal with that particular bodily function, pun intended.
but it's not a bad theory.
it might not be the all there is to it, but dean is probably right; it's an even worse gap between the experience and the expectation than it would have been under normal circumstances, because now he's all but human. it's difficult to comprehend. he places his hands on his knees and digs his nails into the skin just to feel it. it feels strange, the way it pinches. pain isn't really a familiar sensation. ]
I'm not a monster. But you might be onto something.
[ Dean thinks he might have a vague idea how Cas feels, though it isn't exactly the same. He felt weird after hell, like he didn't belong, like it wasn't really him riding around in his meatsuit. Just on autopilot. ]
Monster was the wrong word, sorry. Just meant you were big and in a totally different mindset than what you are right now.
[ As far as how to make it stop, that's something else entirely. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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How you feelin'?
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[ they have the time, anyway. he lets dean hold onto him for a little longer before extricating himself, standing from the edge of the rock where they've been sitting. he situates himself on the ground in front of it, the earth spongy beneath him when he lies down on his side, knees tucked up to his chest.
normally, they'd lie like this together, but... ]
You'll have to keep watch. Wake me in an hour, and we can trade places.
[ it's probably the first time he's found himself thinking that it might be nice if benny were here— but then he imagines him listening in on the conversation they just had and quickly changes his mind. ]
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[ Dean can keep watch. He's exhausted, but not like Cas is. Seeing him sleep is always unnerving, since most of the time, he doesn't need to. ]
Get some rest.
[ He'll do a small perimeter check, make sure there's no monsters around, then settle in beside Cas, and wait.
He lets him sleep a lot longer than an hour, though. Angel baby seems to need it. ]
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truth be told, he doesn't feel all that rested. there's a pressure behind his eyes, and his head feels foggy. but he probably won't fall asleep on his feet now. and maybe he'll get lucky, and dean will actually want to— it doesn't matter. why is he thinking about it so much?
he sits down near dean, rubbing his eyes. ]
You can rest now, if you want.
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Slept like shit, huh? [ His tone is wry, a little smile on his face as he reaches to pick a twig from Cas' hair. ]
Sleeping on the ground sucks.
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[ to be completely honest.
but that was probably part of it. ]
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Okay yeah, that's true.
[ He lets his hand settle on Cas' bare shoulder, thumb rubbing over his collarbone. ]
One day, we're gonna have a real bed. Fluffy pillows. The whole nine yards.
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[ he doesn't know how to build a bed. he doesn't know how to build anything. dean probably knows, though, or at least has some idea. it wouldn't be that difficult, provided they can find the materials, and they aren't too picky about the final result. it's not like they're going to be able to make a spring mattress.
dean's hand rests heavy on his shoulder, and he glances down, arrested by that shiver of unreality when he looks at himself— sooner or later, the feeling will pass, but right now he may as well be somewhere else entirely. that's someone else's shoulder that dean's touching— someone else who's sitting next to him. ]
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[ The expression on Cas' face is weirding him the fuck out, and he's a little worried Cas is gonna muster some energy and flutter off, so Dean's hand stays there on his shoulder until he gives in and wraps it around him, pulling the angel close. ]
How hard could it be? I did construction a little while.
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I'm sure that you could. I'll help find the things you'll need.
[ they'll have to decide where they're staying, first. it makes him feel weary to think on all that lies ahead of them: recovering, finding a city to stay in, and then returning to tikal to help rebuild. perhaps dean won't want to, once they've found somewhere to settle, but he has to do something. he's responsible for at least part of the destruction.
it's a delayed reaction, when he glances at dean's arm around him. he can feel it, the shape and the weight and warmth of it, but there's a barrier between him and that touch. he looks away, wishing he knew what dean wants. ]
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[ He pulls Cas in and presses a kiss to his head, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of him, eyes closing, so...so grateful to have him back. ]
I'm really glad you're here with me, Cas.
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he's afraid to know.
he lets dean lay his head against his shoulder, lets him kiss his hair, and wonders what this is supposed to be. ]
I'm sorry I left. I know it was... upsetting.
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[ He cares. He cares deeply, desperately for Cas, held him when he died, whispered I love you as he faded into nothing, screamed into the ether when he didn't have a body to salt and burn, was left with nothing but shimmering dust motes that slipped between his fingers like the mist that started everything.
His grip tightens and he swallows thickly, eyes squeezing closed as he tries to shut out the memory of that grief, of watching Cas die again, of losing him and being terrified he may not come back.
He blinks back a few tears that threaten to slip out, and forces a short laugh. ]
I looked for you for hours. You'd think it wouldn't have been hard to find someone so big, but somehow you managed.
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I might have been flying. I'm not sure you would have seen me.
[ a lot of the time, he'd been searching for dean, but he chooses not to say that. ]
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[ He could've maybe calmed him down, brought him back to himself, something. Spent some time riding him like Smaug, or something. Dean Winchester, Angel Rider. ]
I mean what I said about that form. It was really cool. What's different between that and your true form?
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My true form isn't comprehensible to the human mind. There are certain aspects of it that don't translate to three-dimensional space.
[ and describing it in a way that would make sense to dean is pretty much impossible. when he says incomprehensible, he means incomprehensible. ]
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Huh. That just makes me even more curious.
[ Ugh man he'd love to see. Big lizard Cas with eyeballs was cool as hell, but he'd really enjoy seeing Chrysler building Cas. Maybe one day. ]
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[ he's not sure what would happen, his grace this low. would he die? or perhaps he can't leave this body at all. the idea of being trapped in it makes his stomach dip with something like fear, and he gingerly begins to extract himself from dean's grip. he can't deal with all this soft touching right now. he needs more than that. but he doesn't know how to communicate this, and if he tells dean to stop, he'll just take it personally. ]
If you're not going to rest, perhaps we should go.
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[ Cas needs to conserve his grace, get better, recharge his batteries. It's kind of strange that he's pulling away from Dean, though; so far, he's seemed to appreciate the touches Dean gives him.
He doesn't want to overwhelm or do something out of line, so he lets his hands drop, glancing behind them at their stuff on the rocks. ]
I don't think our stuff is dry yet. You sure?
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[ he wants something, and he doesn't know what he wants, or if there's any way to get it, and he's coming out of his skin about it. that frighteningly distant expression is beginning to turn to distress, although maybe only dean would notice it for what it is. he swallows and lifts his hand, touches his throat— like he's checking to see that it's done what he wants.
he thought sleeping might have helped, but it only seems to have made it worse; his dreams of heaven are still stark in his mind, bright white walls and bright white lights. pulling him out of the present. ]
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Hey, Cas -- what's wrong? Something's up. Talk to me.
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[ hard to explain when you're going through it, but he'll do his best. dean's fingers digging into his shoulder help a little. he looks down at his hands, at his knees. his skin is pale with the chill. ]
I haven't felt like this since I first took this vessel. Except it wasn't so distressing, then. What's wrong with me?
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Still. ]
I dunno. You were a big monster angel, and now you're back in a human body, needing to do human things.
[ you're gonna have to shit that food out eventually, Cas. ]
Maybe you're, uh. I dunno. Still stuck in angel brain? And it isn't translating to human body brain.
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but it's not a bad theory.
it might not be the all there is to it, but dean is probably right; it's an even worse gap between the experience and the expectation than it would have been under normal circumstances, because now he's all but human. it's difficult to comprehend. he places his hands on his knees and digs his nails into the skin just to feel it. it feels strange, the way it pinches. pain isn't really a familiar sensation. ]
I'm not a monster. But you might be onto something.
[ now, the real question: ]
How do I make it stop?
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Monster was the wrong word, sorry. Just meant you were big and in a totally different mindset than what you are right now.
[ As far as how to make it stop, that's something else entirely. ]
Distraction, maybe?
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lol cas 'HURRY THE FUCK UP'
FUCK HIM!!!!!
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what the hell did i do to the second sentence of that second paragraph lmfao
lmfao
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