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[He doesn't even notice how obvious he's being either.]

An hour.

Cool. Anything you want in specific? You like the chicken wing they have, right?

Yes. And lo mein.

[Chicken too, of course. Castiel still doesn't do the whole red meat thing. 8|]

Edited 2012-01-29 05:00 (UTC)

Sounds good. See you soon.

[An hour later, as promised, Castiel appears in Chuck's living room in a quiet rustle of feathers, even the noise subdued just like everything else about him.]

[He looks up calmly, finally used to these appearances in spite of their suddenness, and notes the subdued noise. The slump of his shoulders, his tired lines. He looks so similar and so different than how he did in His vision. Something in his throat tightens until he can't breathe, just nod in acknowledgment.]

[Castiel, in contrast, doesn't notice the reaction, too exhausted to think of much else but sitting down on the couch. It's oddly familiar, for a moment, a sense of deja vu; he recognizes why, and ignores it.]

[It's different, having him here, real and vulnerable and looking so very close to shattering. Something about it is so horribly perfect that He wants to grab him and shake him out of sick, desperate relief. He's glad Cas isn't speaking. If he did, He'd only hear those terrible, blasphemous words coming out of his mouth like in the dream. He'd see his hand raising up to strike his brothers down.

Chuck makes a sound like a cough and roughly digs the heel of his palm in his eye, trying to shake off the moment.]

So, you. [Cough. Try again.] You made it, huh.

[He lays back on the couch without thinking much of it, the movement familiar both in this location and elsewhere, and as soon as he's horizontal his head stops spinning so much. He knows this isn't inconspicuous, that Chuck will ask questions, but he doesn't care.

The question that Chuck does ask, though, which is more of a statement, is at least a simple one.]

Yes. Why wouldn't I have?

[It wasn't supposed to be a question, but Chuck supposes he would want to know, wouldn't he, whether Cas actually made it.

Although really, He already knows the answer. It's beating out a tattoo in His mind, etched in blood and ash.]

I don't know, man. It's just an expression, I guess.

[Okay, no. He seriously needs to pull himself together.] Want me to go get the Chinese food? [Chuck coughs and stands up abruptly, walking to the kitchen, where Cas can't see him. He takes a moment to lean over the counter and bury his face in his hands, breathing hard.]

[Oh. Another expression. Of course. He should have actually known that, he thinks--somewhere he does know that--but he's not exactly at the top of his game at the moment.

He doesn't know of the turmoil in the other's mind, though the sudden movement catches his attention and he watches Chuck disappear into the kitchen for a moment before shutting his eyes.]

Yes.

[Deep breath. Breath. Just breathe. He bows his head tight, trying to banish the images in his mind, and just breathes. Cas is here. He's not in Heaven, he's not in some pissant lab in Nowheresville, Bumfuck Egypt, and he's sane. He's here, and he's still himself, and Chuck needs to stop being a goddamn woman about this.

Okay. He straightens up, takes a bracing drink from his flask, and gets the bag of still piping-hot Chinese food, bringing it to the living room with some amount of energy.]

I got chicken wings, beef and broccoli, lo mein, and garlic shrimp. Oh, and those fried donut things.

[Castiel actually perks up slightly at the food, pulling himself up to a sitting position and turning his attention toward the bag. He'll be ignoring the beef and broccoli entirely--though he had a little a month or two before with no issue when he'd been curious enough to try it, beef still makes his stomach turn at times--but the lo mein is all his. And some of the wings.

It's no surprise, really, that Castiel has hunter-tastes in food.]

[The beef and broccoli is for Chuck, he knows how much Cas hates red meat these days, but he breaks into the chicken wings easily.

After a minute or so, he speaks up.]

Man, you look like crap. Want a drink?

[Castiel gets his lo mein open and starts on it; though the blood loss makes him nauseous at times, others it makes him really hungry. This happens to be one of the latter times.

He looks up at Chuck's question, and though he shouldn't drink, he doesn't really care.]

Yes.

Mkay.

[Chuck gets up and goes to the bar. The position has his back to Cas, shielding most of the bottles in question from the angel's view. It gives him good access to make them both drinks- except for Cas, it's virgin. Completely alcohol-free. It tastes alcoholic, it has the same burn of alcohol as it goes down, but it's completely booze-free.

Because yeah. Someone losing blood like Cas is shouldn't be drinking. In fact, Chuck takes a second to stir in something he picked up at the drugstore- a dissolving vitamin supplement. And then another dose. It's tasteless, he made sure of that, but He's paranoid. Paranoid, now, about losing any more angels.

Especially him. The little rebel, the one who cared.]

Here. [Setting them both down on the table.] Thought you'd like something smooth.

[Castiel isn't with it enough to be suspicious, attention focused on the food while Chuck makes the drinks, feeling a little better as he eats. He looks up finally when Chuck places the drink on the table, nodding slightly in appreciation.

He sips at it instead of chugging, another unusual behavior, but doesn't at all notice that it's both non-alcoholic and laced with vitamins. He does, however, finally pick up on Chuck's behavior a bit.]

You seem on edge.

[Oh gee whiz Cas, you win the obvious award. Somehow Chuck keeps that sentiment off his face in His reply, though.]

Just tense. Visions last night.

[Total horseshit. They were two days ago and he still hasn't gotten over it.]

I am kinda worried you're gonna go around fainting more, though.

[Hey this stuff is tough for him.]

What about?

[Prying? What's that? Besides, Chuck's told him some of his other visions, so asking wouldn't hurt, and he's curious. At the last comment though, he gives a tiny motion that's his shrug, and turns his attention back to his food.]

I don't feel as though I will.

[At the moment.]

[Contrary to how free he normally is with His visions, Chuck just shakes his head, looking and sounding oddly strangled.]

You- you really don't want to know. [Nervous swallow.]

Something bad, then.

[He doesn't sound surprised in the slightest, though he pauses in eating to talk.]

[Chuck sort of shakes his head. It's not bad. It's so much worse than that.]

They need to fix the Core.

Fix it in what way?

You know, fix it. [Helpful!] So it doesn't pull people in anymore- you know, so we can go home...

[he pauses, looking like he's in pain. His voice is soft.]

So we can go home without forgetting everything. We have to do that.

[He's quiet at that, but then nods slightly.]

What we learn here could be vital.

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