Metanoia: Pestilence's Parting Gift
Title: Metanoia: Pestilence's Parting Gift
Rating: PG
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam
Spoilers: none
Warnings: could be read as pre-slash
Word Count: ~1.3k
Summary: Metanoia means 'change of mind and heart' - and Castiel *is* changing. Becoming more human with all the ups and downs of a human life. Fortunately he is not alone: Dean and Sam are there to help and guide and sometimes to suffer or laugh with Castiel.
This Chapter: An Angel sneeze is like a nuke going off next to your head...
Written for spn_30snapshots
Table: Theme 10: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words
Prompt: #04 (two classic cars, I imagined the first one is the impala and the second one Pestilence's)
It was shortly after their brief and unlucky encounter with Pestilence, about two weeks after they had left Bobby's, Castiel's bones mended again. The Winchesters were sitting at a diner having dinner when - as he did so often lately - Castiel joined them. He had no particular news or fresh information but a few days ago Dean had told him he could drop by anytime he wanted to - unless they were asleep or in the bathroom. For the first time since the Angel could remember he did not feel well so he decided to seek the brothers. Solitude was still a concept he had to get used to and right now he had enough of feeling lonely.
The Winchesters welcomed Castiel warmly and soon the three of them were deep in conversation. Dean again had ordered pie for them and the waitress with their full plates was just about to serve them the dessert as Castiel sneezed. In the same moment every single window in the building exploded letting glass shards rain down on the patrons. The plates and tumblers too shattered with a deafening noise. And all of the light bulbs busted with a tiny flash of light. Patrons were screaming and screeching while diving for cover under the tables. In the blink of an eye the peaceful diner had changed into what looked like a battleground. Sam and Dean exchanged glances, noticing the Angel was gone and decided wordlessly to leave as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. The pie was left behind.
Castiel waited for the Winchesters to return to their motel room. He was sitting at the table next to the small kitchenette analyzing the strange signals his vessel was sending him. His nose tickled, he felt a slight scratchiness inside his throat whenever he swallowed and there was pressure inside his sinuses. The Angel was not dumb. He knew those were the signs of a common cold. And he too knew they had just lived through an encounter with Pestilence...
~*~
The Winchesters found Castiel still deep in thought.
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted the Angel while throwing his bag roughly in the direction of his bed. "That was a big badaboom! You know, you just ruined some amazing pie, again. I am beginning to believe you don't like pie..."
"Castiel?" Sam sat down next to the Angel a sympathetic frown on his face. "You don't look so good. How are you?"
The Angel sniffled and pinched the bridge of his nose frantically trying to stifle another sneeze while Dean took the third chair and sat down on Castiel's other side. "You look snuffy, Cas. Thought Angels are immune to that kinda stuff..."
"Generally speaking we are. Normally. But as I have already told you on numerous occations I am cut off from..."
"Yeah, we know." Dean interrupted the Angel. "So you think you could simply have gotten your fair share of germs and caught the sniffles?"
But Castiel shook his head. "No, Dean. We have just fought against Pestilence." The Angel did not understand how the hunter could be so ignorant and infuriating. He took a long and deep breath. Dean had the tendency to jar on his nerves. Normally he could bear with Dean's stupor but this time he really tried his patience. His nose being congested and preventing him from breathing properly did not exactly help his mood and he felt anger rise.
"Whoa, Cas, just... calm down, ok?"
Slowly the Angel opened his eyes again - when had he closed them? - and noticed how the TV and radio were flickering on and off, how the light bulbs sprayed sparks and the windows were rattling. Castiel took another long breath and tried to soothe his building rage.
"I'll go and get some cold med from the drug store..." Sam announced and fled the room.
"Take the car! And leave her a few blocks away!" Dean called as his brother was about to close the door. "In case Cas has to sneeze off another nuke I don't wanna have her around..."
Right on clue the Angel sniffled again.
~*~
When Castiel woke up the next morning he felt even worse. His nose was stuffed-up despite the ugly brown nose drops Sam had tried to torture him with - his pristine white shirt had ended up with nasty dark stains and the gasoline-like taste had burned down his throat to a point where his eyes had started watering. Every time he swallowed it not only felt like there were shard of glass in his throat but his ear drums cracked with underinflation. And the pressure in his sinuses had become even worse.
"You look peachy, Cas." Dean announced as soon as the Angel opened his eyes again.
Yeah, that pretty well summed it up, Castiel thought.
~*~
Sam had bought even more counter-cold-drugs and was determined to make Castiel take them all. There were homeopathic globules, drops he had to keep in his mouth and not swallow for a solid five minutes, a tea that tasted like nothing Castiel had known before - or even had had the desire to know. By midday he was beat. The Angel only wanted to sleep - with a free nose. Finally Dean decided to show mercy and sat down next to Castiel. In one hand he had a lukewarm tea with honey and in the other there were those stange globules.
"Hey, Cas. How're you feelin'?"
"I have been better." To Castiel even his own voice sounded alien. Scratchy, hoarse, flawed.
"Yeah, you know, having the sniffles is something every human experiences at least one or two times a year. It sucks but eventually it'll go away. There isn't much you can do, despite all those meds out there. But... this tea with honey always helps me with a soar throat. Try it. It doesn't even taste that bad." Slowly he helped Castiel take a few sips.
The Angel decided he liked the brew better than the cold water Sam had offered him an hour ago and took a huge gulp.
"Why..." Castiel's voice went from hoarse to a whisper and he cleared his throat annoyed. "Why are there so many different kinds of drugs if they don't work?"
"Because everybody's different. See, for Sam cold water and sometimes ice works if his throat is sore. I've learned that I need warm stuff like this tea. And those pellets." He put the small box with globules in the Angel's hand. "It says to take five of them three times a day but I think you should take them every hour. Try it. At least they taste sweet."
Castiel nodded thankfully and put them on the nightstand.
"And now another thing you have to learn about the common cold: to cure it you have to watch TV. A lot."
The Angel was not sure if he imagined this snort from Sam's direction. He could hear his blood swoosh in his hears so loudly everything else seemed far away. He decided not to question Dean's way of curing the cold. If he said watching TV would help he was not to object.
Dean turned on the TV and sat down on Castiel's bed next to the Angel with the remote in one hand an a cool beer in the other. "That's Star Gate - I'm sure you're gonna like it. Teal’c, he's a Jaffa, you really remind me of him sometimes. There is this gate on earth... a Stargate where you can travel through a wormhole..."
"There are no such things as wormholes on earth."
"I know, just watch and imagine."
"Ok, Dean."
"And try not to make the TV explode."
"I'll try."
Rating: PG
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam
Spoilers: none
Warnings: could be read as pre-slash
Word Count: ~1.3k
Summary: Metanoia means 'change of mind and heart' - and Castiel *is* changing. Becoming more human with all the ups and downs of a human life. Fortunately he is not alone: Dean and Sam are there to help and guide and sometimes to suffer or laugh with Castiel.
This Chapter: An Angel sneeze is like a nuke going off next to your head...
Written for spn_30snapshots
Table: Theme 10: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words
Prompt: #04 (two classic cars, I imagined the first one is the impala and the second one Pestilence's)
It was shortly after their brief and unlucky encounter with Pestilence, about two weeks after they had left Bobby's, Castiel's bones mended again. The Winchesters were sitting at a diner having dinner when - as he did so often lately - Castiel joined them. He had no particular news or fresh information but a few days ago Dean had told him he could drop by anytime he wanted to - unless they were asleep or in the bathroom. For the first time since the Angel could remember he did not feel well so he decided to seek the brothers. Solitude was still a concept he had to get used to and right now he had enough of feeling lonely.
The Winchesters welcomed Castiel warmly and soon the three of them were deep in conversation. Dean again had ordered pie for them and the waitress with their full plates was just about to serve them the dessert as Castiel sneezed. In the same moment every single window in the building exploded letting glass shards rain down on the patrons. The plates and tumblers too shattered with a deafening noise. And all of the light bulbs busted with a tiny flash of light. Patrons were screaming and screeching while diving for cover under the tables. In the blink of an eye the peaceful diner had changed into what looked like a battleground. Sam and Dean exchanged glances, noticing the Angel was gone and decided wordlessly to leave as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. The pie was left behind.
Castiel waited for the Winchesters to return to their motel room. He was sitting at the table next to the small kitchenette analyzing the strange signals his vessel was sending him. His nose tickled, he felt a slight scratchiness inside his throat whenever he swallowed and there was pressure inside his sinuses. The Angel was not dumb. He knew those were the signs of a common cold. And he too knew they had just lived through an encounter with Pestilence...
~*~
The Winchesters found Castiel still deep in thought.
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted the Angel while throwing his bag roughly in the direction of his bed. "That was a big badaboom! You know, you just ruined some amazing pie, again. I am beginning to believe you don't like pie..."
"Castiel?" Sam sat down next to the Angel a sympathetic frown on his face. "You don't look so good. How are you?"
The Angel sniffled and pinched the bridge of his nose frantically trying to stifle another sneeze while Dean took the third chair and sat down on Castiel's other side. "You look snuffy, Cas. Thought Angels are immune to that kinda stuff..."
"Generally speaking we are. Normally. But as I have already told you on numerous occations I am cut off from..."
"Yeah, we know." Dean interrupted the Angel. "So you think you could simply have gotten your fair share of germs and caught the sniffles?"
But Castiel shook his head. "No, Dean. We have just fought against Pestilence." The Angel did not understand how the hunter could be so ignorant and infuriating. He took a long and deep breath. Dean had the tendency to jar on his nerves. Normally he could bear with Dean's stupor but this time he really tried his patience. His nose being congested and preventing him from breathing properly did not exactly help his mood and he felt anger rise.
"Whoa, Cas, just... calm down, ok?"
Slowly the Angel opened his eyes again - when had he closed them? - and noticed how the TV and radio were flickering on and off, how the light bulbs sprayed sparks and the windows were rattling. Castiel took another long breath and tried to soothe his building rage.
"I'll go and get some cold med from the drug store..." Sam announced and fled the room.
"Take the car! And leave her a few blocks away!" Dean called as his brother was about to close the door. "In case Cas has to sneeze off another nuke I don't wanna have her around..."
Right on clue the Angel sniffled again.
~*~
When Castiel woke up the next morning he felt even worse. His nose was stuffed-up despite the ugly brown nose drops Sam had tried to torture him with - his pristine white shirt had ended up with nasty dark stains and the gasoline-like taste had burned down his throat to a point where his eyes had started watering. Every time he swallowed it not only felt like there were shard of glass in his throat but his ear drums cracked with underinflation. And the pressure in his sinuses had become even worse.
"You look peachy, Cas." Dean announced as soon as the Angel opened his eyes again.
Yeah, that pretty well summed it up, Castiel thought.
~*~
Sam had bought even more counter-cold-drugs and was determined to make Castiel take them all. There were homeopathic globules, drops he had to keep in his mouth and not swallow for a solid five minutes, a tea that tasted like nothing Castiel had known before - or even had had the desire to know. By midday he was beat. The Angel only wanted to sleep - with a free nose. Finally Dean decided to show mercy and sat down next to Castiel. In one hand he had a lukewarm tea with honey and in the other there were those stange globules.
"Hey, Cas. How're you feelin'?"
"I have been better." To Castiel even his own voice sounded alien. Scratchy, hoarse, flawed.
"Yeah, you know, having the sniffles is something every human experiences at least one or two times a year. It sucks but eventually it'll go away. There isn't much you can do, despite all those meds out there. But... this tea with honey always helps me with a soar throat. Try it. It doesn't even taste that bad." Slowly he helped Castiel take a few sips.
The Angel decided he liked the brew better than the cold water Sam had offered him an hour ago and took a huge gulp.
"Why..." Castiel's voice went from hoarse to a whisper and he cleared his throat annoyed. "Why are there so many different kinds of drugs if they don't work?"
"Because everybody's different. See, for Sam cold water and sometimes ice works if his throat is sore. I've learned that I need warm stuff like this tea. And those pellets." He put the small box with globules in the Angel's hand. "It says to take five of them three times a day but I think you should take them every hour. Try it. At least they taste sweet."
Castiel nodded thankfully and put them on the nightstand.
"And now another thing you have to learn about the common cold: to cure it you have to watch TV. A lot."
The Angel was not sure if he imagined this snort from Sam's direction. He could hear his blood swoosh in his hears so loudly everything else seemed far away. He decided not to question Dean's way of curing the cold. If he said watching TV would help he was not to object.
Dean turned on the TV and sat down on Castiel's bed next to the Angel with the remote in one hand an a cool beer in the other. "That's Star Gate - I'm sure you're gonna like it. Teal’c, he's a Jaffa, you really remind me of him sometimes. There is this gate on earth... a Stargate where you can travel through a wormhole..."
"There are no such things as wormholes on earth."
"I know, just watch and imagine."
"Ok, Dean."
"And try not to make the TV explode."
"I'll try."