[Closed]

[ofthursday]

Who: Castiel, Meg
What: Enjoying Firenze, and by enjoying I mean not
When: Before things start heating up, so the 10th
Where: The Campanile di Giotto
Rating: PG-13 at most for discussion of their terrible lives

Castiel had finally starting to get the hang of life in Paradisa.

Of course, now that he was getting used to things--to being mortal, to having sort of a routine for meals and research and talking to people, to picking up more and more social and cultural things each day--that was the perfect time to wake up in a completely different time and place. Thanks, Castle. Thanks a lot.

Fortunately enough, he remembered this time and place. He'd observed it, and many others, with his garrison as they had watched over humanity in their mission. Of course, observing was a whole lot different than living, and the first thing he had done was find Meg.

To be fair, he had tried to find Dean too, but he'd encountered Meg first and after finding out she was powerless had decided to stick close to her. This was not a time or a place to be a woman alone, particularly when she was used to being an incredibly powerful and capable demon, and Castiel was certain Dean could take care of himself. Meg was another story, just going logically, without even factoring in the incredibly complicated emotional aspect of it.

Once they'd gotten the basics figured out, they had gone cautiously exploring. The bell tower had caught his attention right away, and they soon found themselves at the top of it peering out through the windows. Being high up made Castiel feel a bit more normal--when an angel, he had flown of course, but he'd loved to perch on top of buildings and mountains--and so the bell tower was a little reassuring the midst of all the changes going on.

He glanced over at Meg, to see if she was enjoying the sight as much as he was.

Comments

[putuporshutup]

She had lived through it all, too. She hadn't been sure why the castle would take them all back to this, specifically, of all times and places. It made a bit more sense when she had realized that this scenario had some fairly serious implications for at least a few of the other residents. Still, it didn't interest her much. Nothing really did, with the weight of temporary mortality on her shoulders. Meg hated feeling this powerless on so many levels, and it had her in an awful mood in general.

The pain of having her humanity restored wasn't so drastic as it had been last time, but it was still there. It was still bringing back painful memories and awful dreams, to the point where she simply didn't want to sleep. Consequently, in addition to the fears that her vulnerability as a human and as a woman in this place, the random flashbacks had shattered her usual confidence and reduced her to a somewhat skittish creature for the time being. At least she could fool herself into feeling a little safer with Cas around, even though she was really the one guiding them here, he was her utterly necessary male chaperone. Seriously though, screw this place.

Climbing the bell tower and getting some vertical distance between them and what were ultimately just crowded, dirty streets felt a little better - but that was always the case when they were together. Her eyes had been fixed on the horizon, but they soon flicked over to meet his. She wasn't surprised in the least to find him already staring at her - it was so often the case when one of them looked over at the other.

She forced a little smile before wrapping her arms around herself tightly. The breeze was pleasant, but at the moment, a particularly nasty memory of Crowley was pushing at the edges of her consciousness. She pushed back, but it only worked so well, and she shivered in revulsion at what was playing through her mind.

[ofthursday]

Castiel had expected Meg to be relaxed up here, away from other people and the sense of tension and something brewing down on the streets, but one look at her told him she wasn't. He couldn't tell exactly what was wrong, but it was enough for him to frown in concern and stretch a hand toward her shoulder, though he stopped before he touched her.

Touching might not be a problem between them, especially not now, but they could both be jumpy even with each other, and if she was actually shuddering from something then he wasn't going to add to her stress. Instead he tilted his head to the side, worried, expression questioning.

[putuporshutup]

She was certainly jumpy at the moment given what was running through her mind, so that was considerate of him, but his touch was always so soothing. When she saw him reach out and hesitate, she leaned into his hand and reached up with one of her own to cover it, holding it there and reassuring him that a little contact was perfectly welcome. She knew his questioning look all too well, and sighed before offering an explanation.

"Whenever the castle makes us all human it... it brings up a lot of unpleasant memories. It's like I can't handle everything the way I usually do. It's just too much."

She had a feeling he might understand.

[ofthursday]

He was relieved that he hadn't done something wrong, and not only that but the touch seemed to be welcomed, and he certainly understood what she was talking about. Aside from sleeping, the change in how he felt things now that he was mortal was the worst thing about it; emotion was something angels had just as much capability of as humans, but there was a much more muted physical component to it. Now, as the body was his, it reacted to his mental state so much more strongly, and the input of physical reactions on top of simply dealing with the emotions themselves made it incredibly overwhelming. He understood this, completely.

He gave her a small nod, dropping his hand slowly from her shoulder as he found a place to sit down, signing a response back. Is it something you desire to speak of?

[putuporshutup]

She followed him to sit down, feeling much more secure with her back to the wall. Feeling so small and vulnerable was so uncomfortable. She didn't want to cling to him, but at the same time, she did. Just being next to him would suffice for now, though. At his question, she let out a shaky sigh.

"No. Maybe. I... I dunno. It's just..." She looks at him, almost searching for affirmation that this is even okay. She doesn't do this. Talk about things. She just handles them and moves on. But she's just bursting with fears and feelings and things she has no idea what to do with, half of which are directly related to even being near him and the other half distracting her from even enjoying their time together like she usually does.

"Last year. With Crowley. Cas..." She trailed off and looked down again. "It was worse than any of the rest of it."

[ofthursday]

She sounded like him, with the indecision and lost parts of sentences, or at least he had sounded that way when he had been able to talk. Even as an angel, when he'd been too emotional he had trouble forming entire sentences, trailing off after a word or two and being unable to manage completing whatever he was trying to say. So he was patient, calm and steady even in his concern, so that if she wanted to continue she knew she could do so.

When she did finally start to talk in full sentences--or close to them, anyway--it wasn't quite what Castiel was expecting. He'd thought she was just upset at being mortal, or frustrated at the situation and culture of this time and place; she hadn't really talked about what happened before, and Castiel hadn't been sure whether to be worried or not about it. Demons, by their very natures, had gone through terrible things Castiel couldn't understand, and he was never sure if it bothered them or they embraced it.

He supposed being mortal might shake things up for her anyway, even if she had been fine with it before, which he doubted. So he just frowned and nodded, reaching out again to brush his fingertips against her arm in encouragement. If she wanted to keep going, he was still there.

[putuporshutup]

She was usually so much more sure of herself, so deliberate in her speech. The fact that she's reduced to a hesitant, stuttering mess is frustrating since she actually feels like an open book for once in her life and can't find the words to express everything going on in her mind.

It was true that she'd been through awful things. Centuries of every kind of torture imaginable, and you better believe she could dish it out as well as she could take it. Still, somehow, the last year Meg had spent as Crowley's personal plaything had been worse than all the rest. It had been personal.

The memories of it even bothered her from time to time as a demon - but this was the second time now that Paradisa had forced her to re-live the trauma through the mind's eye of a fragile human soul. She had really hoped this wouldn't be a regular thing... but she supposed that was the real catch to this place for her, personally.

She leaned into his touch again, closing her eyes momentarily and coming back to herself, trying to focus on the warmth of his fingers and the way even such a slight touch sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. It relaxed her enough to explain the worst aspect of it.

"You remember when Crowley busted in on all of us at that cabin in the woods before we went to gank that bottom feeding piece of crap from purgatory? Yeah... he kinda picked up on... well... us... " She drew a shaky breath, "He realized how much I care about you, and let's just say he took that one and ran with it."

She gave an almost apologetic look. She wasn't sure how much of the story she could stand to burden him with, but she supposed - in a really twisted way - knowing that someone cared about you so much that you were the key to their undoing had to be at least a little romantic. Or something.

[ofthursday]

Castiel was patient, silent as ever, as he waited for her to decide whether or not to continue and then while she spoke. Something in his stomach twisted at her words, trepidation and anger and sympathy at once, his eyes flickering with fire. It wasn't a surprise, really, now that he thought about it; it wasn't something Castiel would have considered, but it fit Crowley's character. It sounded like something Crowley would do.

But he hated the idea of being used as a weapon against someone he loved; it had happened to him far too often, especially as of late. And for it to be Crowley doing it added some additional level of disgust, though he wasn't entirely certain why.

He didn't bother to sign how sorry he was, as he was pretty sure Meg could see it in his eyes. He never wanted anything to happen to her, and if he hadn't been stuck in Purgatory and then under Naomi's control he would have gone after her himself. Still, he was there now, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to her while he could do anything about it.

And if Crowley showed up in this place, Castiel was going to shank him the first chance he got.

[putuporshutup]

The fire in his eyes warmed her heart. Crowley had made a point to share all the dirty details of his dealings with Castiel, and she had the distinct impression that he might even hate the guy more than she did. That was saying something.

She felt lighter somehow, as though sharing just that detail had lifted a weight off her shoulders. It was the closest she'd actually come to voicing her feelings, although she hadn't really thought about it. It hadn't seemed necessary... she'd been so thoroughly, genuinely, disgustingly smitten with him for so long, she kind of figured it went without saying.

With that on her mind, she leaned in and kissed him, sinking into him, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other cupping his face. The fact that he looked about ready to kill for her was a bit much for her to resist at the moment. Plus, it was comforting; his lips did a better job of chasing away the bad memories than she had even thought they would. How convenient.

She pulled back softly after a minute or so, her mind having wandered a bit. She knew about purgatory of course, but it struck her that she he hadn't really spoken more than a few words about losing his grace. She cared, of course, but as a demon, she mostly adopted a don't ask don't tell attitude. The humanity that had edged it's way back in had her all kinds of curious, though. She wanted to comfort him the way just his presence soothed her.

Meg stared into his eyes and stroked his cheek gently. She wouldn't push him if he wasn't ready to talk about it, but she would certainly leave the door open if he wanted to.

"I guess it was one hell of a year for both of us, wasn't it?"

[ofthursday]

Castiel wasn't really expecting the kiss, mostly because he wasn't expecting her to go from being upset to affectionate; when Castiel was stressed out or caught up in some traumatic memory he usually didn't like people touching him. He was still learning that not everyone reacted the same way.

He responded to the kiss gently, closing his eyes and letting himself take solace from the connection as well, only opening them again as she pulled away. He leaned his face a little into her hand, bringing one of his own up to cover hers gently, staring back at her for a few moments until her comment when his gaze dropped to where his other hand set on his lap. He didn't have to nod to show his agreement with her statement.

Castiel hadn't thought, much, about what all had happened. He'd focused outward as much as possible, learning to live as a human and take care of himself, making some friends and trying a spell, figuring out how to get by with his loss and experiencing some of the fun things about life. Bonding with Meg, and having Dean around.

There had been no reason, and he'd had no desire, to dwell on what had happened to him. What Naomi had done was so huge and insurmountable that he knew it would crush him if he focused too much on it; that his memories had been erased and false ones crated in their place, that his personality had been modified to be more docile and obedient, that he'd been forced to do Naomi's will and then not even know about it were such enormous and horrifying things that he couldn't think about them. He had no idea who he was, and now he didn't know what he was either, because he had tried to do something to make things right and he'd been so stupid. Metatron had betrayed him and smirked at him as he cut out his grace, and yet again he'd ended up just being a tool for others to use in their plans.

He didn't realize his fingers were shaking at first, until he felt what he thought was the hand Meg had on his face moving and then figured out it was actually his moving against hers. He dropped his hand to his lap with the other one, clenching his hands into fists to try to hide it, suddenly embarrassed and that making all the other emotions suddenly coming up even worse.

[putuporshutup]

Meg, of course, thrives on the physical in general, and even more so on their connection. It's no wonder that one kiss was able to ground her so effectively, giving her something to focus on, to push the unpleasant memories to the side.

When his hand begins to shake, her face falls, immediately etched with concern. She had known that whatever he went through must have been awful, but she never thought she'd see him so close to losing it again. For a moment, she half expects him to be gone in the blink of an eye as he had always done when he became upset while she was caring for him. But no, it's not quite like that. It's entirely raw and human and he's still right there next to her. It's unsettling to witness, but that hardly registers beyond her overwhelming desire to somehow comfort him.

She knows well enough that he usually shies away from physical contact when he's sulking, but this is more than sulking, and she can't not reach out to him as he clenches his shaking fist, trying to keep it all in like always. She rests a hand lightly above his knee, stroking gently with her thumb and tilting her head to catch his eyes again.

"Cas... it's ok. You're ok."

That's really obviously not the case, but she's got her soothing voice on, and she's just hoping it's enough to put him even a little bit at ease. Of all things, he looks... ashamed... and she's the last person he should ever worry about falling apart in front of. She'd been there to pick up the pieces before, and she would happily do it again as many times as he needed her to.

[ofthursday]

He did normally not like to be touched when he felt like this, as all his nerves were on edge and any new sensory input always made him feel like he was going to shatter, but Meg was somehow an exception and her hand on his knee was grounding; it was something to focus on, rather than something overwhelming. His jaw clenched at her expression of concern, however, and her words; this was pathetic. He was fine. He didn't need reassurance or to be treated gently, because he should be able to handle this.

Humans dealt with life every day; he should be able to as well.

His gaze focused on the far wall, hands still tightly clenched into fists in his lap, sitting up straight and totally still like a statue. If he could just be physically calm, then perhaps he could be mentally; Castiel had no real coping methods, as he'd never learned them from the Winchesters and certainly not in Heaven, so he didn't know anything but to just control and hide away everything. He knew, logically, he could talk to Meg just as he'd encouraged her to talk to him only a few minutes earlier, but it didn't seem like an option for him. Physically, it actually wasn't, but communicating in any way seemed out of the question at the moment. He didn't want to talk about what he was feeling, because he shouldn't been feeling it. He should be able to just deal with it and go on by himself.

Still, no matter how little he moved, he wasn't calming and his breathing was as unsteady as his hands.

[putuporshutup]

Well, that wasn't making anything better. She knitted her brow and put her other hand on his other leg, demanding his attention instead of letting him dwell on whatever it was that had him so shaken up and even more closed off than usual. Not happening.

He wasn't out of his mind and he couldn't just blink out whenever he wanted to, so she mustered what she could find of her usual self and set in on him. Her soothing voice wasn't working anyway so she abandoned that for something much closer to her normal tone, but it was still laced with concern and compassion.

"Cas. Hey. Look at me. I have no idea what the hell is going on inside that head of yours, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm not gonna watch you hurt like this, and I can't leave you alone right now, so tell me what to do, or tell me what's going on. Whatever you need. You've gotta know by now that I'd do anything for you."

Her eyes were pleading him for answers or direction or something, just begging him to let her in.

[ofthursday]

Castiel didn't look at her immediately, but his gaze did drop to his hands again instead of staring through the wall. Finally, he glanced up, taking a deep breath and lifting his chin, trying still to present himself as calm and in control even though he really didn't need to. Meg knew better anyway.

He might've, upon meeting her eyes, decided to let his walls down and talk to her, except that he couldn't. It was much harder to allow himself to act on emotion rather than logic when he had to actively think about and choose to communicate; words could come out without thought, but to write or sign he had to make a conscious effort. So often, his loss didn't bother him in the way most assumed it did, but other times it bore down on him and made him feel even more trapped in this body than he already did.

Part of the problem was that he didn't know what to say, when he stopped to think about it. How could he explain? What did she know, and what did she not? He didn't want to put this on her anyway; she obviously had enough of her own problems to deal with, especially mortal for whatever is going on in this place now, and Castiel knew how tough it was to adjust. She didn't need to by worrying about him, especially when his problems had no fix.

He seemed to consider what to do for some time, though he was less frozen than before, gaze shifting a little as he thought and he ran his knuckles over leg idly just to move a bit. Finally, he decided on a partial compromise, and though his hands were still a little unsteady they weren't shaking as badly when he signed a response.

I'm alright. There is too much to explain.

[putuporshutup]

She rolled her eyes. She probably wouldn't have if she had thought twice about it, but human emotion was such a pain in the ass. She just wasn't quite so capable of calculating and controlling every reaction, so the tension and anxiety she was feeling on her own coupled with the pain of watching him hurt just came out as frustration at first.

"Like hell you're alright. And too much for what, exactly? I know you know it's not too much for me to handle, and if you don't, then you've got another thing coming."

But she was better than that, and she wasn't going to add to his stress - er, any more - by being upset with him, so she took a steadying breath and put on a neutral expression. Her eyes were still pleading with him, that couldn't be helped. She only had so much control now, and they shone with the tears that were pricking at their edges instead of the usual glint of mischief.

She could tell he was conflicted, and she just... didn't feel right about dropping it. It almost seemed callous when he looked almost looked like he did want to talk, and seeming that way was something she was so conscious of.

"Look, the only thing that's too much for me is the idea that you won't just... let me listen. We've got nothing but time to kill here until this place either burns to the ground or goes back to normal. Take your time or whatever, but Cas?"

She reached up and stroked his cheek gently, but her touch shared the same hint of desperation in her voice.

"You gotta talk about it sometime."

[ofthursday]

Castiel wasn't really shocked by Meg being a little flippant or harsh, because she was Meg, and that was actually something he liked about her a lot. He was used to that kind of behavior in general as well, so it was just as reassuring as gentleness would have been, and more motivating.

He never shared much of anything unless he was pushed into it, and most of the time he wasn't. He would dance around a subject as long as someone else did, but if they truly kept pressing it--and it was because they cared, rather than any other reason--then he was far more likely to relent. Bobby, who Castiel missed so much, had figured this out right away, and Sam and Dean were catching on as well. Meg, of course, had always been direct, but now there's the caring as well, and after a few moments Castiel signed back once again.

It's a long story.

But he'd tell it, if she wanted to know.

[putuporshutup]

When he finally says something else, she sighs with relief at the concession.

She mimed looking at a nonexistent watch on her wrist and gave him a little smile. "Pretty sure I've got the time."

She did care, more than he knew, and that meant she wanted to know. She wanted to know anything he wanted to tell her and more. She would have just told him off sooner if she wasn't so damn confused about her own on top of worrying about his, but at least they were in it together.

"So what happened?"

[ofthursday]

Castiel looked down at his hands, which had stilled at this point, deciding how he wanted to explain. There was a lot, with Naomi, and so much of it Castiel didn't know himself. Signing, also, limited a bit how much he could say easily, and finally he decided on a very condensed version.

There was an angel in Heaven that few knew of. Her job was to force obedience to orders, and she could modify memories and parts of an angel's personality to do so, and she can directly control them this way as well. I don't remember more than what she did most recently, but I have apparently been rebelling for a long time. Entire pieces of memory are missing, and there are fakes ones in their place.

[putuporshutup]

It's Meg's turn to look like she's ready to shank someone -- or cry, she's not sure which. Hearing that on top of everything else he's been through, on top of what she's seen him struggle with firsthand... Now some bitch angel had been messing with his head for God knows how long? Not even.

She sat back and just shook her head, dazed and angry on his behalf. Finally, a coherent question comes to mind, and she looks back at him, the same mix of fierce anger and compassion etched on her face.

"Did you kill her? Because if you didn't, I will as soon as we figure out a way back on our own."

[ofthursday]

He watched her carefully, trying to read her reaction and a little bothered to see her upset, but at the same time it meant something that she cared that much. He didn't want her to hurt for him, but that he meant enough to her that she did made his chest feel a little warm.

Castiel shook his head at the question, giving another response.

Another angel killed her. He was who took my grace.

[putuporshutup]

She set her jaw and a determined look crossed her face.

"Right, well whoever that was, then he's next."

She smiled a little falteringly, studying his face. It felt strangely liberating that they had discussed a little of what she imagined was very hard for both of them, if not impossible for her under usual circumstances.

She reached up and stroked his face again before running her hand gently through his hair. There wasn't much else to say, but silence was hardly uncomfortable between them, and staring into his eyes was pleasant enough that sometimes she never wanted to stop.

After a moment, she smiled a little to herself, realizing that while it was more time consuming and took more effort, it somehow seemed easier to sign what she had to say, so she did just that.

I'm glad we talked. And I'm sorry you lost your grace.

[ofthursday]

Castiel almost signed back that it was alright, but it wasn't and she knew it, so instead he just nodded in acceptance of her condolences before leaning just a little so he could press his forehead briefly to hers.

When he pulled away, he gave a quick response. If you desire to speak further about anything at any time, I am here.

[putuporshutup]

She closed her eyes and just let herself enjoy the press of his forehead to hers, drawing strength and a sense of calmness from it that was hard for her to come by otherwise.

She smiled at his response and signed back in response, with one thing in mind: solidarity.

Thanks. Same goes for you. I'm here. Anything you need, anytime you need it.