A/N: This is something that I wrote a few months ago and was sure that I had lost. I found it today and figured I would post it. Hope someone likes it ;) It's set sometime after My Bloody Valentine.

Title: Angels Don't Feel Pain

Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam, Bobby

Genre: gen, Hurt/Comfort/Family

Rating: T for some language and blood

Summary: Angels didn't feel pain...Castiel was sure of that. That was until his ability to heal himself suddenly disappeared. But that won't stop him from helping Sam and Dean...but helping Sam and Dean will stop him. Plenty of hurt!Cas and worried/caring/pissed!Dean and Sam.

Angels don't feel pain…

Castiel had been sure of that since before the first human ever set foot on Earth. He was taught that angels were glorious, indestructible beings of pure righteousness. He now knew that, as Dean would put it, was a load of crap. He had felt pain when Zachariah had forced him out of his vessel and drug him back into Heaven for his "re-education." He had stood against the Archangel Raphael and had been destroyed within a blink of an eye.

But he hadn't felt pain such as this, because now he…felt.

He was cut off from the host and was losing his powers day by day. He could no longer heal, turn back time, and he found that his wings were becoming heavier, making it harder to fly. That wasn't all of it though. Now, he could apparently feel pain as a human could.

It all started when he had been searching the Artic for any trace of his father. He had been standing on the edge of a glacier, looking out across the flawless blue see, when he had felt traces of cold seep through his being. He had never before felt cold in his life. Snow began to fall down in a harsh wind. He became alarmed when he felt a burning sensation in his face in his limbs. Quickly as he had come, he took flight to Orlando, Florida, where it was a comfortable 73degrees.

Nothing had happened since that incident, so he shook it off as him just being weary. He continued on with his search for God and assisting the Winchesters in stopping the Apocalypse. Castiel found himself longing for Dean or Sam to call him for assistance. He found being in their company pleasant. One particularly dreary day, he grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and called Dean.

"Hello?" Dean answered. Castiel noted that his voice leaked exhaustion.

"Where are you?"

"Roadway Inn, Room 34, Columbus, Ohio; did something-"

Dean didn't even get a chance to ask the question before Cas had pooped into his room. Dean jumped back and almost dropped his phone.

"How many times have I told you not to do that?" Dean regained his composer; he shot Cas an annoyed gaze.

"My apologies." Castiel said, looking around, trying to find the younger Winchester. "Where's Sam?"

"Out on a food run, why? Is something wrong?" Dean anxiously asked.

"Everything is fine as far as I know. I was just curious to his whereabouts."

"Curious to his whereabouts….okay whatever dude." Dean walked over to the little refrigerator and grabbed a beer from one of the shelves. "Why did you call? Did you find God?"

Castiel shook his head and sighed. "I'm afraid I've had very little success in my mission." He turned to the window and stared at the sky. "I'm beginning to think he is purposely trying to avoid me."

"I'm sorry Cas, but I don't know another tougher son of a bitch to go God huntin' than you. You're our best shot at finding the big man."

Castiel faced his charge and smirked. "Thank you Dean."

Dean rubbed his hand over his face and plopped down on the room's dusty couch. "So um is there a reason you came?"

"I uh…I was-" Castiel stuttered, embarrassed to tell Dean the truth. Dean found Cas' struggling amusing and chuckled at the angel.

"You were what…lonely?" Dean guessed. He was surprised when Castiel nodded.

"You could've just said that man." Dean said, finishing his beer with one last chug. He grabbed another out of fridge. He twisted the top to open it, but it didn't come off. He tried again, and started getting red in the face when he couldn't get it off. "Son of a bitch…It's really on there." Dean grunted as he tried to open it yet again. Castiel was amused watching his friend try to open the bottle.

"Would you like me to open it?" Cas asked.

Dean gave him an offended look and said, "I've got it. It's almost off." Castiel stood back and actually chuckled at the sight before him. Dean finally gave up and thrust the bottle into his hands. "Here if it's so damn funny you open it."

Castiel gripped the bottle and twisted the cap off with ease, but bit back a yelp when he felt a sharp pain in his palm. He looked down and saw the cap had left a cut almost an inch long. He was worried, because he could feel the cut throbbing in time with his vessel's heart.

He handed the bottle to Dean, who in turn stared at the angel's hand. He frowned and asked, "You gonna heal it?"

Castiel shook himself out of his daze and closed his hand. "Yes of course."

That is if I can. He thought grimly.

Sam walked in the door. "Dean you so owe me. Do you know how many places I had to try before I found one with pie?"

"Oh quit your whining bitch." Dean snapped, and grabbed the food.

"Hey Cas." Sam greeted him. "Um I think there may be enough if you want some." Ever since his incident with Famine, the brothers had started offering him food. He had refused, but he couldn't help the rumble that passed through his stomach.

"No thank you Sam. I should be going."

"You sure you don't want to stick around?" Dean asked him.

"I must return to my search." He replied. He said his goodbyes and took off; his palm throbbing. He thought things would get better.

But oh how he was wrong…