A/N: A short piece of writing where Castiel, due to circumstances, is no longer an angel and reflects on what it means to be human.

Genre: Drama/Tragedy

Fan Fiction Rated: K

Characters: Castiel (As well as Dean and Sam)

Spoilers/Timeline: There's some very brief referring to the 5th season, but all in all you're good.

IV – Being Human

He was human. He hated being human. Although humans had awakened a strong pull of curiosity in him even before he had ever gotten the opportunity to walk among them, he had honestly never wanted to be one. He had experienced a brief brush of it a few years back, and it had been anything but pleasant. Yes, he had never approved of what the angels did, of how heaven ruined earth for their own narcissistic purposes, but he had always loved being an angel. Upon meeting Dean Winchester, he had discovered free will and knew that he could choose to use his angelic powers for whatever purpose he saw fit. He could choose to do the right thing, even if it meant he had to turn his back on his celestial family, and he could choose to fight on the side of the Winchesters, the side of mankind. And that had been his choice – to fight for mankind. But he had never chosen to join them, at least not consciously. Although deep down he knew that it had been nothing but his own choices that had led him to where he was now. Looking back, he could easily trace them all back, one after another, and clearly make out the path that had brought him exactly right where he was, and he hated it.

But Dean was determined. Although he could often read the pity in his eyes, Dean made a very conscious decision to look at this unfortunate turn of events as an opportunity. As an older brother, Dean had taught Sam all there was to know in life, or at least all that he felt was important to know. And if there was anything Dean truly loved it was being an older brother, in fact he very much excelled at it. He was very passionate about his promise to show him how to "appreciate the good things in life", as he had put it. Things such as getting a good night's sleep, the fluent roll of a woman's hip as the walks by, loud music to keep you awake as you're driving at night and, of course – perhaps Dean's favorite thing of all – pie. He'd introduced him to various sorts of pie, each a new flavor at a different diner, but Castiel had yet to find a favorite. They'd gone through quite a number of them, and there were still many to go, but Castiel knew that he would never taste any of them.

Dean had promised to show him the good things in life, but Dean had been wrong. Instead Dean had been the one to show him the unbearable things in life, the fragility of it. Dean had shown him the helplessness of being human, how you could do nothing but watch as your best friend slipped away. Had he still been an angel, he could've saved him. He could've healed him and saved them all from this horrible outcome, but he wasn't.

He was human now.

He was human to appreciate the restless sleep that would come at night, and the bitter aftertaste the whiskey left in the morning. He was human to chew down the bland taste of diner food and he was human to sit through a nine hour-long drive in the impala with Sam in absolute silence. He was human to experience the slow healing process of fractured ribs after having been thrown helplessly into a wall, and to recognize a blatant lie when a bruised and bleeding Sam told him that he didn't need stitches. He was human now to recognize when a younger brother was mourning the only family he had ever known, and how he was spiraling down a self-destructive path that could only lead to more misery. He was human now to live out the rest of his pitiful human life with nothing but regrets and painful memories of what had once been. How a promise of happiness had so suddenly turned to a stung of betrayal.

This was Castiel's human experience, and he hated it.