broken ➳ destiel

thirteen

He thought about his physical body instead. Lust burned through him like a match. The head of the match burning the most, while the body was trickled with charcoal and fire. His demeanor, was like an incendiary bomb. Getting too close could hurt him, burn him. But his whole goddam bashful self was so condescending. He thirsted for more. Every ounce of him was like hopeless salt water, each drop, so fulfilling but left him dehydrated for more.

The ex-angel, or human rather, was sitting on a chair in the library, reading a book in extremely complex Enochian. His hands were covering his ears, blocking the ringing familiarity the text gave him. Castiel kept finding himself reading the same paragraph over and over, gaining no knowledge from it. None of it he could read. None of it he could translate. Where did his knowledge go? 

He then got upset. He wanted to read the language, but his mind had just had gone blank. There was nothing. The text was confusing and difficult. He slammed the thick book shut, and the ringing went away. There was no white noise anymore, which gave Castiel relief. Castiel didn't know why he heard the nonstop ringing and he didn't know why his vision was distorted and warped. It was like he was on the brink of fainting. But it all stopped as soon as the pages were closed.

"Castiel?" A familiar, feminine voice crept up behind him. Unnecessary fear rose up in the ex-angel like rising temperature, he was pretty certain he knew who it was, but the voice still startled him.

Castiel had turned around in his seat, and looked at his new friend. Charlie. The ex-angel had met her once before, and she helped him by healing his wounds. He was grateful for her, but he didn't know her well. He knew she was close with the boys, close with Dean. So, he knew he could trust her. It was hard for Castiel to start trusting the Winchester brothers, but once they showed him humbleness and hospitality, he knew. He didn't know Bobby much, it was the same circumstance with the redhead. He knew who he was, he knew he could be trusted, but he didn't know if Castiel was the untrustworthy one. 

Charlie smiled, looking at the now human. Her lips were soft and a light pink, they were sincere and filled with hope. Her laugh lines around her cheeks were visible, which meant that she smiled like that a lot. Her ravenous, red and short curly hair that she had recently cut, bounced with the joy in her heart. 

She was wearing her usual plaid, which fit snuggly around her shoulders that were also carrying a brown and leather duffel bag. Around her red and purple plaid, she was wearing a drawstring blue jacket, which made her smile pop.

"Charlie," Castiel stood up, smiling faintly at his friend. "Where are Dean and Sam?"

Castiel watched her as she put her duffel bag on the table that he was sitting at for an admittedly long time. The leather bag hit the wooden table with a thud, indicating there were many items stuffed in there.

"Well, Dean had called and asked me to check on you. He seemed worried, so he also asked if I could bring you some food, water and clothes!" She smiled, turning around after she placed the bag down. She opened up the bag with two clicks and a pull. "Tada! I provided. Charlie's always got ya, hon."

"Dean was worried about me?" He had asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes.

"Of course, silly!" She exclaimed, picking up and dropping a heap of clothes, snacks and water in one pile. "I can tell Dean likes you a lot, so of course he's worried."

Relief raced across every single bone, every crevice of his skin. Dean was worried. Worried about a scraggy, pathetic angel like him. God, who would have thought? Dean actually did think of him. He must have thought that Castiel was lonely. Goddamn, Cas was happy. Unnecessarily happy, actually. He knew they would come back, but he didn't know they were looking forward for it.