partly

Title: Human
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Castiel
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1000
Warnings/Spoilers: Set just before 5.21
Disclaimer: Fanfic, for fun, not profit.
Summary: Written for

spn_las for the prompt ”Redemption”. I’ve always wanted a fic that told what happened once Cas woke up after “Point of No Return”. Outsider POV. I thought I'd better post it before I convince myself it's terrible.

Human

Brain dead people didn’t open their eyes and talk. Brain dead people were, well, dead. Their bodies were just too stubborn to give up. They would lie, alone, attached to sterile medical equipment that relentlessly keep them breathing, until someone, somewhere, decided to stop wasting electricity.

Nora didn’t spend much time thinking about the moral and ethical ramifications of such things. No, she was much too old for that. She knew first hand that death was an inevitable side effect of life. It came whether you wanted it to or not. She did think, however, that it was terribly sad to spend the last bit of time on this earth with only electronic beeping for company.

So she spent a couple of hours of her day in the room of one of the poor unfortunates who hadn’t yet realized that their time was up. It was after she’d been in the neo-natal unit holding the babies or in the children’s ward reading books. The hospital humored her because her husband had been a generous supporter for many years. And she still had final say on enough of his money to give her some clout. Besides, the nurses appreciated having a real person to talk to when they did their rounds.

Currently there was only one resident in the Critical Care Unit that needed looking after. He’d been brought in the day before. He had mysteriously appeared on a shrimping boat in the middle of the bay. Nora had her own opinions about the believability of such a story – this was Bayou country after all – but it wasn’t her place to judge. He was here and in need of company. So she sat in a chair next to the bed, humming an old lullaby and knitting.

“What happened?” The voice was low and hoarse.

Nora looked to the door, but no one was there.

“Where am I?”

The voice was stronger this time and obviously came from the man on the bed. Nora looked over and into the startling blue eyes of the no longer dead man. He stared at her. Finally she found her voice. “You’re in the hospital.” She looked around, not sure how to deal with this little miracle. She probably should let a nurse know that the dead were rising. “You were… hurt.”

“I am still hurt.” He closed his eyes and seemed to concentrate on something. When he opened them again, he looked profoundly disappointed. “And the apocalypse?”

Nora blinked at him several times. “What apocalypse?”

He frowned at her, eyes slightly unfocused. “The battle between Michael and Lucifer. Does Lucifer walk the earth?”

Nora stood and patted his arm. “Now, now, dear. Just relax. You’re just confused because you were dead.” She probably shouldn’t have said that, but she wasn’t thinking clearly. She reached and pushed the call button next to the bed. “Let me get the doctor.”

Nora spent the next couple of hours in the CCU waiting room. Doctors, nurses and hospital administrators came and went. No one had a reason for the young man’s miraculous recovery. They finally decided there had been an error when he’d been admitted, a misdiagnosis of some sort. Nora didn’t care. She waited until everything quieted down then made her way back into the room.

She listened to the young man’s steady breathing for a moment, then took the seat by his side. He may no longer have been dead, but he was still alone. The room was oddly quiet without the steady beeping of the machines.

“Lucifer does not walk the earth.”

His voice was still low and rough. Nora quite liked it. “Not that I’ve heard,” she said. “You would think that would make the news, no?” He didn’t respond. “I’m Nora. I volunteer here.”

“Castiel.” He paused a moment. “I am an Angel of the Lord.”

Nora had no response to that, so she kept knitting. He’d been dead a couple hours ago; who was she to question what had happened.

“Or at least I was. Now I appear to be… human.”

That last bit was said with such derision that Nora had to ask. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“Yes. Humans are weak and limited and… disappointing.”

Nora considered that. “I suppose we can be.” She knitted for a moment before asking. “So… the apocalypse? What makes a former Angel of the Lord think that it’s the end of the world?

“Dean was going to say yes.”

She waited in silence for six stitches then asked, “And his saying yes, that would bring about the apocalypse?”

“Undoubtedly.”

Twenty more stitches. “And Dean, he knew this?”

“Yes.”

“Then why would he?”

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. Deeply, painfully. “He is nothing more than a burnt and broken shell of a man. He has lost faith and hope. He is very… human.”

“I see.” Knitting needles clicked in the quiet room. “But since it’s not the apocalypse, he must not have said yes.”

Castiel’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

“If saying yes meant the apocalypse, then he must have said no.” She waved at the lights that could be seen out the window. “The world doesn’t seem to be ending.”

His eyes moved between her and the window and back again. “No, it does not. I was sure that… How surprising.”

Nora smiled. “Maybe you should add that to your list of human traits. Weak, limited, disappointing, but surprising.” She started another row. “Now, I’ve had 78 years to get used to being human and you only just started a few hours ago, but I think we do okay. Most days, at least.”

“Being human is uncomfortable.” He rubbed his head. “And extremely painful.

“That’s why God invented pain medication.”

“God did not invent pain medication,” he corrected.

“No? Then it had to be us humans.” Nora winked at him.

He closed his eyes. “And irritating,” he added. “Humans are irritating.”

“I suppose we are,” Nora agreed. “But we can’t all be angels, can we?”