Castiel had called you in a panic late one night. His grace was gone, he was human. Painfully human. But Dean had kicked him out and he was standing alone on the curb. Of course you drove across Kansas to pick him up. How could you not?

Castiel looked uncomfortable. He'd never particularly cared much for humanity-not that he hated humans-so this was all very overwhelming. He was feeling too much, everything seemed to rub his skin the wrong way. He insisted that your car smelled weird, and you had to turn off the radio because all the noise was grating on him. By the time you'd gotten to your apartment Cas had gotten carsick twice.

And then came the other problems. Castiel had never needed a bathroom before, or sleep. The sour taste of vomit in his mouth was bothering him, so you took him to the sink and showed him how to brush his teeth.

And dinner.. well, dinner was rough.

You currently stood in the kitchen with a paper plate. Castiel had never been able to taste before, so you were trying to find something he liked. You'd gathered a bunch of basic foods from the pantry for him to test.

"Here. Strawberry jam," you offered him a spoon. The instant the gooey jam was in his mouth, his face screwed up and his throat constricted. You gave him a napkin to spit into. "So that's a no."