On days like this—days when Castiel’s grace ran cold and prideful through his vessel, coiling into every inch of Jimmy Novak—his angelic presence left no room for emotion. It was days like this when the rift between he and Dean seemed impossible to close. His anger and dejection appeared exaggerated and unnecessary, much like a child throwing a tantrum. But, seeing the unrestraint in Dean’s eyes while the rift stood uncrossable between them made Castiel feel cold in a different way.There was an insatiable need that he could not fully understand or express that pushed him to feel what Dean was feeling. He desperately needed him to know that he felt for him; that he could be there for him when he needed him.
On days like this, Castiel would lfall through time with the sound of Dean’s prayers trailing behind him, cycling from calm to desperation to anger then desperation once again. Castiel would not answer his prayers, knowing that right now, Dean would seem no different than any other human. But, Dean was different. This is what Castiel would think as he stood in the middle of some ancient bazaar, soaking in all of the overlapping sounds, sights, and smells until his senses were raw with the stimulation. Only after Castiel’s senses were so accosted that he felt small enough to believe he understood how it felt to be human, did he return to Dean.
Castiel would appear, prepared to understand and sympathize with Dean Winchester the human, only to witness the ferocity in the man’s soul and realize that he possessed not even an inkling of what this hurricane held inside himself. It was on days like this when Castiel felt loneliness and guilt settling underneath the apathy of his grace.
It was on days like this that Castiel wished he did not love Dean Winchester.