(Untitled)

[heartless_sob]

Castiel watched the slump of Dean's shoulders, tension so thick it was as if it was holding him together entirely. The area where their huts were built was coming up. They hadn't been there in two days. He watched, stopping when Dean did. A few approached him, tried to comfort with touches and words Castiel couldn't hear. He watched as Dean stalked

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[weary_head]

"There's nothing to find, Cas," said Dean, feeling the angel behind him like an itch on the back of his neck. It fit in nicely with the dull itch settled over the rest of his skin, an uneasy gathering of nerves surely waiting to explode when Dean finally allowed it.

It'd been easier, somehow, watching that knife sink into Sam's back. At least then he knew how, at least then Dean knew why.

"You know that."

[heartless_sob]

Castiel looked down, forehead wrinkled. He glanced up at Dean, watched him through his lashes. He was still grasping to understand the ways of this place, but it would seem so. It felt as though they'd walked the place three times over.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

[weary_head]

"Do you know what that means?" Dean asked, too worn out yet to be angry. His arm was a lead weight when he reached to push the sweat from his eyes, and Dean hated it. He hated to feel anything at all.

"Losing someone. How it feels to a human?"

[heartless_sob]

Hadn't Anna said as much, before? Even then it had only given Castiel a vague sense of unknowing. He felt as an angel, but it was much different now.

He looked back down, fingers curling into his palms.

"I left my brothers and sisters, Dean, and now I am here. I feel their absence. I can feel a lot of things now," he answered, because Dean asked.