samcas + ''hey, look at me. focus on me alright?"
No. 23 “Hey, look at me. Focus on me alright?”
@bitrek we’re delicate and soft in this chili’s tonight
(this also perhaps became settled in my atrophy series)
Castiel sleeps, not often, but enough that it takes them the longest time to realize what has awoken them. The flickering neon sign declaring that the Red River Motel has VACANCIES even as a soft whispering sound settles across the quiet of the motel room.
They rolls over, ruffling the slightly askew feathers of their wings, that pass vaguely through the incorporeal walls, feeling how their vessel shifts just a moment behind them, as if the pause button has been pressed on a human remote. Sam has taken to teaching them human idioms and the like, and though Castiel has taken to them almost like a duck to water, they has trouble, often times when they’ve woken and Jimmy is a half formed ghost at the very back of their mind.
There is the whimper again, a quiet, vulnerable that tugs at something deep inside of Castiel’s vessel, has the heart beating quickly, pulse racing in their throat. Outside of their vessel, twin needles that humans call claws stretch out; there is no danger, only a too thin man settling beside them, asleep and hurt, quiet as if he thinks his hurt as no place in this room they have made a haven for themselves.
“Samuel,” Castiel says quietly, hovers a hand and a distantly shaking paw over his back, feels the way their human shakes, curled up tight and rigid against the bed spread. The moon is a barely there shaft of light that falls across Samuel’s chest, just missing the way his face is twisting, mouth open in a grimace, that hurt noise escaping again. “Samuel.”
A hint of thunder, the foundations shaking faintly in the distance. Samuel awakens with a stifled scream stuck in the clutch of his throat, eyes wide and golden green as the moonlight hits upon his face. He is wide eyed, pale faced, he is shaking and Castiel is, to their human roots, terrified in a way they have never felt before.
“Samuel, look at me, focus on me, Samuel,” Castiel commands, still that faint hint of thunder, that faint crack of lightening; grace curls beneath their borrowed skin and Castiel feels their body phase half to another dimension that they wishes t hey could let Samuel see, surrounding him, protecting him. their naked wings touch upon the back of Samuel’s neck, where his shirt has slipped and his vulnerable flesh has goose pimpled up. Samuel turns wide, almost shellshocked eyes to Castiel, and Castiel reaches out, a human hand touching upon the heave of his trembling chest. “You are safe, Samuel, whatever haunts you cannot hurt you here.”
Samuel simply stares at them, eyes wide, vulnerable, almost innocent, as if Castiel has not seen this man drain a full human of their blood, has not cleaned the blood from his mouth themselves. Perhaps, it always comes back to blood, blood and human fault. Perhaps that is why Castiel loves them so sincerely. Samuel simply looks upon them, and when he falls forward, shaking, trembling, a thready string of latin falling from his unbloodied mouth, Castiel simply gathers him against their form and curls their needles against the prayer he can feel forming.