expel | life in plastic it's fantastic.

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life in plastic it's fantastic.

[ in all his long life, it had to be the most ridiculous thing that had ever happened to him. there had been worse, of course. more painful experiences, punishments and scoldings (though he had once prided himself on being one of the most obedient and steadfast of all his siblings), mishaps, embarrassments. etc and so on. however, through all of these experiences, he had always had one thing: he'd always been himself. perhaps in a vessel of a different shape, but still, ultimately, himself.

now he was, well.

humiliatingly, small enough to fit in the palm of dean winchester's hand. he remained motionless on the hearth for most of the dramatics re: jesse and his powers, and then when jesse left— nothing. surely, he thought, with jesse gone, his power will have weakened enough to let go of its hold over me? but he remained trapped in this state. castiel tuned out most of the conversation between sam and dean (arguing no doubt about what to do with him) as he fought jesse's hold, but in the end he found himself tucked in dean's pocket anyway, still plastic and motionless.

it isn't until they're riding in the car on the way back to the motel room that something gives way— the inorganic facsimile finally crumbling. he struggles in dean's pocket, tangled in the fabric of his clothes, before trying to fly in frustration. only to teleport free of dean and smack directly into roof of the car, flattened like a bug against a windshield. ]

Ugh.

[ small mercies: at least his voice sounds (more or less) the same. ]

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[ They are both trying really hard not to laugh. Sam’s face is a dead giveaway, so it’s a gift that Cas is looking at Dean when the cough slips out. ]

Okay, so what if it doesn’t? Do we get you a terrarium? A fairy garden? We could get little gnomes and a tiny house…

Dean.

[ is it a gift? is it? sam looks away and drags a hand over his mouth, like he can physically keep his laughter lidded. ]

It isn't funny. I can't fight this way.

C’mon, Cas.

[ The snort finally makes its way out, but he really tries his best to cover it, forcing a jacking cough. ]

It’s a little funny.

[ castiel narrows his eyes, and when dean laughs, huffs and turns his back on him. only to see that sam is also hiding his mirth. his expression twists, which is their only warning before he makes a second attempt to teleport away. he disappears for a split second before bouncing off the back seat, over the front seat, and into the footwell with a heavy thunk. this time, he doesn't immediately recover. dazed from the impact like a bird after making acquaintance with a glass door.

there's something wrong with his powers, beyond what he thought. perhaps because of his shift in size, he can't accurately judge his distances? the math is different. he should be able to make up that difference, but— ]

Shit.

Careful-!

[ He flutters off and it’s kinda like watching a hummingbird, except they’re a lot more graceful. Dean can’t help the burst of laughter that’s punched out of him, Sam’s filling the car alongside him. ]

You okay?

[ Deans leans down, not moving his feet as he gropes to find Cas’ little body, gently picking him up in his palm. ]

No.

[ but, strangely, he feels less discomfited in dean's palm than in sam's big paw. the careful clasp of his fingers lifting him from the dirty floor of the impala, out of harm's way. he reaches up to comb his fingers through his hair, freeing dust from the strands. ]

I'm not.

[ Yeah, that's fair enough.

He cradles Cas gently, hands cupped, before resting them on the seat to allow Cas to step off if he wants. ]

Well, don't worry, Cas - we're gonna put you right. Right Sammy?

[ Sam gets a sharp look and he's nodding, yeah, obviously, of course they are. ]

Why don't you, uh - get some rest? See if you don't pop back to full size the further we get away?

[ castiel gives dean a dubious look as he steps off his hand. jesse is already very far away. he doesn't think distance is going to make a difference, at this point. but he doesn't say anything, instead settling into the space on the bench seat between them, his arms crossed and his expression sour. ]

I don't need to rest. But all right.

[ Made enough of a difference for Cas to snap back this far, and right now it's the only thing Dean's got.

He glances over at Sam, who lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug, then cranks the car back up. ]

Let's find a motel. You might not need rest, but I sure as hell do after all that.

[ that, at least, castiel can't argue with. it'd been an exhausting hunt, he could see that much. even he felt exhausted, though he wouldn't admit it. so he sits back, silent enough to be forgotten in the interim, even the sound of his breathing too faint to hear over the rumble of the engine. the entire car vibrates with the power behind the machine, something he can't say he ever appreciated at normal size.

he'd be ashamed to admit that he almost has dozed off as they make their way to the nearest motel outside of town.

fortunately or unfortunately, the inertia of the sudden stop when dean pulls into his chosen parking space sends him tumbling head over coattails into the footwell again.

great. ]

Dean!

[ Sam does doze while Dean drives, the engine rumbling under their bodies. It's a rhythmic thing, white noise that settles his nerves when nothing else - not even alcohol or women - will. The experience with Jesse had been jarring, and Cas the way he is, even more so. Guys an angel, and he's the size of a friggin' polly pocket. How are they supposed to fix that?

How are they supposed to fix any of this crap the universe is slinging their way? There's still levels of mistrust there with Sam, sharp hurts that haven't healed, and despite the vow to stick together because they're better that way, he's still shaken. Still can't forget their fight when Sam left him bloody on the floor and marched out with that demon whore.

Thoughts adrift, he isn't paying as much attention as he should have when he pulls into the spot in front of the shoddy little motels 'office', and Cas goes tumbling again onto the floor. ]

Dude! I'm gonna need you to knock that off-

I didn't do anything!

[ not this time, anyway. he just isn't used to being this size. inertia and gravity play a different role in his life now.

especially since he can't seem to teleport.

he has to climb dean's pant-leg to make the journey back to the seat, though by the time hes gotten halfway there, dean will probably have plucked him again. ]

Well I didn't either!

[ Sam is going to take the opportunity to get out of the car and leave them to it. He'll handle the room while they duke it out in the car.

Dean leans down and wraps his fingers around Cas' tiny body, hauling him back up in the palm of his hand, holding it up in front of him. ]

Gonna have to figure out a safer way for you to travel in the car.

You stopped too fast.

[ his tiny face turns red when dean picks him up, but he doesn't struggle or squirm. could dean hurt him like this? even if he could, he wouldn't do it on purpose, but by accident? he sits back and watches, staring up at dean's face, struck by the role reversal.

it's so very strange to feel so small. ]

Like what?

I did not.

[ You’re just sensitive to motion right now, Cas.

He holds his palm flat, up in front of his face so he can look at Cas directly. ]

I don’t know. I’ll think of something. [ He blinks, drawing his hand closer. ]

…sorry I sent you flyin’ like that.

... It's fine.

[ dean is very close. he doesn't really have control over how close he gets. still, he tries to stand— difficult on a moving platform— rising unsteadily to his feet only to stumble right into dean's face. it won't hurt dean, of course, the brush of his miniaturized coat and tie, the pinpoint press of his fingertips against his skin.

but it is bizarre. cas stares up at dean's eye and hopes that he doesn't flinch. ]

S-sorry.

[ The feeling is so weird, little hands on his skin, Cas’ coat nothing but a tickle, soft brush of moth wings. ]

S’okay. You wanna stand on the dash?

[ Maybe that’s easier, Dean’s hands probably aren’t steady. ]

Uh...

[ as he's making eye contact with dean's big pupil, he has the strangest thought: is this what it's like to be human? if their roles were truly reversed, he should be much smaller and dean much bigger, but he finds, emotionally, that knowledge doesn't seem to matter. he still feels like he's witnessing something awe-inspiring. something terrifying.

it's a shame dean could never see his true form. otherwise, he might have asked him.

castiel pauses a moment longer, then shakes his head. ]

Just... let me ride in your coat pocket.

[ Dean blinks again, slow as he focuses on Cas best he can. Flecks of gold in green, he stares long and wide until he curls his fingers gently around Cas. ]

How about my shirt? You can peep out if you want.

Um. All right.

[ whatever dean wants. comfort isn't something he's concerned with. (if he were, he'd probably be wearing different clothes right now.)

and he's a little too transfixed to argue, anyway. ]

Here.

[ He carefully pulls his hand away, then drops it slowly to the breast pocket of the flannel he’s wearing. ]

In you pop.

[ it's a little bit of a struggle to get in, and he feels clumsy and inelegant throughout the entire process of gripping onto the fabric and tumbling inside. there's no real support, and the weight of his tiny body is enough to make dean's shirt sag, but he does in fact fit.

it also deposits him close to dean's heart, the warmth of his chest radiating through his shirt. dean is very warm this up close. ]

Okay. I'm ready.

[ The heat of his body radiates through his shirt, seeps into Cas’ bones. Dean’s heart is thumping a little quicker than normal, but it’s because of the situation, the stress. He’s exhausted, bone weary, and when he spies Sam coming back with keys, he’s so relieved he could cry. ]

There’s Sam. I’m gonna get out of the car, so hold on just in case. Okay?

I'll be fine.

[ or so he says. but there's no bite to the tone of his voice, just exhaustion. ]

[ very carefully, he places his hand over his heart. {

I know you will, man. You always are.

[ He lets his hand rest for a moment before shoving the door open, telltale squeak loud, whining for lubricant before ultimately slammed shut.

Sam tosses Dean a key and they let themselves in, stumbling into the room, exhaustion creeping over. ]

Cas, where do you wanna be? Table? You can sleep on my shirt or something if you’re tired.

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