Metanoia: A lesson in humanity
Title: Metanoia: A lesson in humanity
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam, OC
Spoilers: none
Warnings: heavy h/c
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: Moral courage is nothing many people really have. Sadly Castiel has to learn that lesson.
Written for spn_30snapshots
Table: Theme 10: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words
Prompt: #18 (a ramshackle building where I imagine the fight with the Deamons happened)
~ A lesson in humanity ~
Castiel leaned with his entire weight against the door to open it. Finally the old hinges started to move and the Angel stumbled outside. It was a bright day. The sun shining making November seem a bit more bearable. No fog, no rain. A nice change. But right now Castiel could not treasure the nice weather. One step. Another. Countless small steps until he would reach his destination. Slowly he moved forward, more stumbling than walking. The Winchesters were save. The demons dead. Now he had just to make it to their motel.
The fight had drained the Angel more than he had anticipated. Three demons armed with spells. As soon as the first one had nearly hit Sam Castiel hat made short work and sent the brothers back to the motel. Although he was cut off from Heaven and stripped of most of his powers he still was more than capable of killing three minor Demons on his own. The spells not more than a small nuisance - to him. Aimed at a human they would have been more than enough to sent both Winchesters to the hospital for a very long time. Castiel knew the brothers would be... pissed as Dean called it. But they were alive.
He made another step trying to fight the sudden vertigo and found himself on the ground seconds later. He had not felt the impact but he did feel a headache building. Slowly Castiel tried to stand up again and found it impossible. He was still dizzy and only accomplished to fall on his other side. Where one of the Demons had stabbed him in his stomach slowly a red spot was blossoming on his white shirt. The Angel closed his eyes and tried to gather his strength. He needed to get up. He had to get back to the Winchesters. They were save but surely worried. And he did not like the thought of bothering Dean - or Sam - any further. He needed help.
As countless people hurried by - or changed to the other side of the street Castiel pondered about humanity. They were so busy, not looking in his direction. Ignoring him. Pretending they didn't see him lying here, slowly bleeding on the concrete. A mundane man could die with his brothers just walking by and not caring. It was a realization the Angel did not like. Not in the slightest.
Castiel felt hands on his side. Dean? Slowly he opened his eyes, tried to clear his blurry sight. No, not Dean. A dark haired young man in Jeans was bend over him. "Please..." Castiel whispered. There was not enough strength left to speak in a normal level. Surely the man would help him up again. Perhaps call the Winchesters. He just had to tell him who to call. Castiel felt a slim hand reach into on e of his coats pockets. The man was probably searching for Castiel's phone so he could call... The Angel felt how Jimmy Novak's purse left the pocket. Then the man continued to search the Angel further for articles of value. Castiel felt despair mix with frustration and disappointment. He could not do anything to stop this person. Humanity, his Fathers most beloved was nothing more than a bunch of cold, shrewd scapegraces that give a damn about each other. The Angel closed his eyes and felt tears dripping down his cheeks.
"Hey! What do you think you are doing here?!" A strong female voice pieced through the blank despair Castiel was yielding. The Angel heard the thief run away and moments later there was again a hand touching him. "Hey... What happened to you?" He felt another hand turning him slowly on his back. Suddenly pain shot through his stomach, radiating from the stab wound. The woman inhaled sharply. "Oh my god... I'll call an ambulance, buddy. Don't worry, everything is gonna be ok."
The Angel tried to open his eyes to get a glimpse at that human that was finally caring enough to help him. He saw red hair reminding him of Anna but everything else was even more blurry than the last time. Right. Tears. He tried to lift an arm to wipe them away but again there was a sharp wave of pain that left him gasping for air. "You better don't move, buddy." There was suddenly pressure on his belly. It hurt and Castiel tried to batter the hand pushing on his wound away but the woman was too stronger - or perhaps he was just too weak? He heard how she talked to someone - right the ambulance she wanted to call. The Angel felt himself slowly slipping. Darkness threatened to consume him. "Hey, stay with me. Come on, buddy, talk to me. What's your name? I'm Doris. Calling you buddy gets boring pretty soon. Care to tell me your name?" The voice fended off the darkness a bit. "Castiel." Speaking was tiring and made the Angel break out in a cold sweat. He felt the womans hand in one of his pockets and had a feeling of deja-vu. Someone had done that already... Taken something from him. Right. The thief. "Oh, you don't have a ICE number. Anyone I should call?" Castiel nearly chocked trying to push the word out of his mouth. "Ok, there are only three numbers here. I think I'll call the last one you've called. Can't be too wrong."
Castiel heard how the woman talked to someone but he could not figure out who her collocutor was or what they were discussing. He suddenly was cold, his hands felt chilly and small tremors started to run through his body. Something soft touched his arms and moments later there was warmth spreading. He still felt too cool to be comfortable but the trembling had stopped.
~*~
When the Winchesters arrived at the address the woman had given them the ambulance was just round the corner the loud horn blaring in the otherwise silent scenery. People were standing on the other side of the street watching, gaping. But the focus of both Winchesters was on the unmoving figure on the ground. Castiel was firmly wrapped inside a maroon poncho with a woman in her early thirties sitting next to him, obviously applying pressure to some kind of wound hidden underneath the woolen fabric. The ambulance stopped next to them before the hunters had reached the two. Castiel already was on a gurney as the brothers finally arrived. While Dean instantly stepped to the injured Angel and tried to persuade the paramedics to let him ride with Castiel in the ambulance the woman caught Sam's arm. "Hey, your buddy has no ICE number. Please tell him to change that." The hunter frowned. "Ice?" "No, ICE, In Case of Emergency. An emergency contact that should be called if something like that happens and he is no longer lucid enough to call you guys on his own." Sam nodded slowly. That really made sense. "Thank you... For taking care of him. And for the tip with the phone." "You're welcome." Without any further word the woman took her bloody poncho and headed down the street.
As soon as Castiel would be better Sam would make sure each of their phones had an emergency contact entered.
AN: The ICE program really exists, for more information look at the wikipedia article.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam, OC
Spoilers: none
Warnings: heavy h/c
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: Moral courage is nothing many people really have. Sadly Castiel has to learn that lesson.
Written for spn_30snapshots
Table: Theme 10: A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words
Prompt: #18 (a ramshackle building where I imagine the fight with the Deamons happened)
~ A lesson in humanity ~
Castiel leaned with his entire weight against the door to open it. Finally the old hinges started to move and the Angel stumbled outside. It was a bright day. The sun shining making November seem a bit more bearable. No fog, no rain. A nice change. But right now Castiel could not treasure the nice weather. One step. Another. Countless small steps until he would reach his destination. Slowly he moved forward, more stumbling than walking. The Winchesters were save. The demons dead. Now he had just to make it to their motel.
The fight had drained the Angel more than he had anticipated. Three demons armed with spells. As soon as the first one had nearly hit Sam Castiel hat made short work and sent the brothers back to the motel. Although he was cut off from Heaven and stripped of most of his powers he still was more than capable of killing three minor Demons on his own. The spells not more than a small nuisance - to him. Aimed at a human they would have been more than enough to sent both Winchesters to the hospital for a very long time. Castiel knew the brothers would be... pissed as Dean called it. But they were alive.
He made another step trying to fight the sudden vertigo and found himself on the ground seconds later. He had not felt the impact but he did feel a headache building. Slowly Castiel tried to stand up again and found it impossible. He was still dizzy and only accomplished to fall on his other side. Where one of the Demons had stabbed him in his stomach slowly a red spot was blossoming on his white shirt. The Angel closed his eyes and tried to gather his strength. He needed to get up. He had to get back to the Winchesters. They were save but surely worried. And he did not like the thought of bothering Dean - or Sam - any further. He needed help.
As countless people hurried by - or changed to the other side of the street Castiel pondered about humanity. They were so busy, not looking in his direction. Ignoring him. Pretending they didn't see him lying here, slowly bleeding on the concrete. A mundane man could die with his brothers just walking by and not caring. It was a realization the Angel did not like. Not in the slightest.
Castiel felt hands on his side. Dean? Slowly he opened his eyes, tried to clear his blurry sight. No, not Dean. A dark haired young man in Jeans was bend over him. "Please..." Castiel whispered. There was not enough strength left to speak in a normal level. Surely the man would help him up again. Perhaps call the Winchesters. He just had to tell him who to call. Castiel felt a slim hand reach into on e of his coats pockets. The man was probably searching for Castiel's phone so he could call... The Angel felt how Jimmy Novak's purse left the pocket. Then the man continued to search the Angel further for articles of value. Castiel felt despair mix with frustration and disappointment. He could not do anything to stop this person. Humanity, his Fathers most beloved was nothing more than a bunch of cold, shrewd scapegraces that give a damn about each other. The Angel closed his eyes and felt tears dripping down his cheeks.
"Hey! What do you think you are doing here?!" A strong female voice pieced through the blank despair Castiel was yielding. The Angel heard the thief run away and moments later there was again a hand touching him. "Hey... What happened to you?" He felt another hand turning him slowly on his back. Suddenly pain shot through his stomach, radiating from the stab wound. The woman inhaled sharply. "Oh my god... I'll call an ambulance, buddy. Don't worry, everything is gonna be ok."
The Angel tried to open his eyes to get a glimpse at that human that was finally caring enough to help him. He saw red hair reminding him of Anna but everything else was even more blurry than the last time. Right. Tears. He tried to lift an arm to wipe them away but again there was a sharp wave of pain that left him gasping for air. "You better don't move, buddy." There was suddenly pressure on his belly. It hurt and Castiel tried to batter the hand pushing on his wound away but the woman was too stronger - or perhaps he was just too weak? He heard how she talked to someone - right the ambulance she wanted to call. The Angel felt himself slowly slipping. Darkness threatened to consume him. "Hey, stay with me. Come on, buddy, talk to me. What's your name? I'm Doris. Calling you buddy gets boring pretty soon. Care to tell me your name?" The voice fended off the darkness a bit. "Castiel." Speaking was tiring and made the Angel break out in a cold sweat. He felt the womans hand in one of his pockets and had a feeling of deja-vu. Someone had done that already... Taken something from him. Right. The thief. "Oh, you don't have a ICE number. Anyone I should call?" Castiel nearly chocked trying to push the word out of his mouth. "Ok, there are only three numbers here. I think I'll call the last one you've called. Can't be too wrong."
Castiel heard how the woman talked to someone but he could not figure out who her collocutor was or what they were discussing. He suddenly was cold, his hands felt chilly and small tremors started to run through his body. Something soft touched his arms and moments later there was warmth spreading. He still felt too cool to be comfortable but the trembling had stopped.
~*~
When the Winchesters arrived at the address the woman had given them the ambulance was just round the corner the loud horn blaring in the otherwise silent scenery. People were standing on the other side of the street watching, gaping. But the focus of both Winchesters was on the unmoving figure on the ground. Castiel was firmly wrapped inside a maroon poncho with a woman in her early thirties sitting next to him, obviously applying pressure to some kind of wound hidden underneath the woolen fabric. The ambulance stopped next to them before the hunters had reached the two. Castiel already was on a gurney as the brothers finally arrived. While Dean instantly stepped to the injured Angel and tried to persuade the paramedics to let him ride with Castiel in the ambulance the woman caught Sam's arm. "Hey, your buddy has no ICE number. Please tell him to change that." The hunter frowned. "Ice?" "No, ICE, In Case of Emergency. An emergency contact that should be called if something like that happens and he is no longer lucid enough to call you guys on his own." Sam nodded slowly. That really made sense. "Thank you... For taking care of him. And for the tip with the phone." "You're welcome." Without any further word the woman took her bloody poncho and headed down the street.
As soon as Castiel would be better Sam would make sure each of their phones had an emergency contact entered.
AN: The ICE program really exists, for more information look at the wikipedia article.