freetobe: ([think] doesn't makesense)
Castiel ([personal profile] freetobe) wrote 2020-03-20 01:52 am (UTC)

[ Castiel squints the the article of clothing, train of thought grinding to a stuttering halt. ]

Uhm.

[ For a moment it's the only thing he thinks to say. The expression, he thinks, is whiplash - from emotionally charged, painful reunions to utter misery and depression, to alcohol and now to... confusion.

Does he think it will fit him?

What?

Castiel looks down at himself, puzzled. Pulls the fabric of his trench coat and suit jacket open further, away from his body, as if trying to take the measure and cut of his vessel underneath.

Things he never had to think about before: ... This. ]


I... believe so.

[ It reminds him of Emmanuel, briefly. Of that time after the Leviathan feasted on his grace and let him drown in a lake, when he was brought back and washed ashore naked and without memory, to be taken in by a kind woman. He'd given himself the name, because perhaps part of him, unburdened by the truth of his existence, had still believed it then: God is with us. He'd healed people without knowing how he was doing it.

Castiel remembers it, this time without memory of himself. It had made him gentle, he thinks, and kind.

Sometimes he misses Emmanuel. ]


I don't... understand.

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