supernatural one-shots [requests closed] UNDER EDITING

castiel || even flow

|| not edited

Freezin', rests his head on a pillow made of concrete, again
Oh, feelin' maybe he'll see a little better, set of days, ooh yeah
Oh, hand out, faces that he sees time again ain't that familiar, oh yeah
Oh, dark grin, he can't help, when he's happy looks insane, oh yeah

You rattle your tin cup full of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters. You hated begging; you'd rather work for your money, but today is Sunday. All of your jobs are closed today. You shiver and pull your tattered flannel blanket closer around you. It's getting dark. No one is going to be walking in the November chill at this time of night.

You watch as the strangers passing by slowly disappear until you are the only person on the sidewalk. You lie down and pull your blanket closer, praying that sleep will take you so that you can escape this hell.

Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don't know, so he chases them away
Someday yet, he'll begin his life again
Life again, life again...

At least you're away from your father. Life on the streets will never be as bad as life with him.

Kneelin', looking through the paper though he doesn't know to read, ooh yeah
Oh, prayin', now to something that has never showed him anything
Oh, feelin', understands the weather of the winters on its way
Oh, ceilings, few and far between all the legal halls of shame, yeah

You're woken up in the middle of the night by a slap in the face. A sheet of newspaper. You groggily sit up and glance around, hoping that you can find more. Holy crap, you've found the motherload. An entire newspaper has been casually thrown on the sidewalk. You gather it all greedily and lay it across the ground, creating a little mattress for yourself.

And you thank God. Sure, he must hate you pretty bad to give you this life. But he must also feel bad for you and give you the little things.

Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don't know, so he chases them away
Someday yet, he'll begin his life again
Whispering paths, gently lead him away
Him away, him away

You shiver and curl up on the papers. The weather is only getting colder and colder. If you don't find a shelter, you're not sure you'll make it through this season. You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. You'll never fall asleep with these worrisome thoughts. And even if you do die, at least heaven'll be warm.

Even flow, thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don't know, so he chases them away
Someday yet, he'll begin his life again
Oh whispering hands, gently lead him away
Him away, him away

You yawn and open your eyes.

A man with ruffled black hair, stubble, and piercing blue eyes stands before you. You know you should be a little creeped out, but for some reason you feel calm.

He offers you a hand. You take it. You stand there, examining his face. All of the sudden, you feel self-conscious about the amount of dirt coating your body and the grease in your hair. You can't even remember the last time you showered.

"I am Castiel," he says. "I'm your guardian angel. And I can't allow you to live like this anymore."

You smile. "I think I'm going to like you, Castiel."