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Castiel is sulking. Sulking in that particular way he has when he is trying to maintain plausible deniability, and failing. Out in the summer, or even in the winter, out in flyover country, Castiel is as agreeable as you can wish for an eldritch being. Wide, flat, open spaces seem to make him most comfortable, only upped when an overpass is within his line of sight.
Asking why only results in Castiel saying something about fixed stars, which eventually makes sense, but not much.
However, at the moment, the world is enclosed in endless green and silver, endless in every direction. You are in the Western Cascades of Oregon, and its damp miserable cold is already beginning to wear down tempers, what with trackless muddy green in every pointless stupid direction. In fact, half the gear is tetchy because of how many people have died in the area, and going out because of some klucker’s trap was never high on your list of priorities.
The two of you are huddled in the backseat, you, at least, wishing the heater could be turned on, but that’s why the backseat is a mass of blankets and functional gear, so you don’t get hypothermia. In a rainforest. Because that’s a thing.
You’ve never seen Castiel this miserable. Not enraged, not righteous, just plain flat out miserable. He stands outside the car, staring up at the sky, shaking his head free of the constant droplets over and over again.
When he sits back in the car, he shakes himself all over as if trying to rid himself of something nasty. “Sin.” he says, his voice at its most strained. “There is only sin here, and we should leave.”
Castiel is not often one for proselytizing the ways of his kin, and he doesn’t seem to be addressing you, just the sky and the endless drowning world.
“It’s a rainforest, Cas.” you say, trying to keep cheerful even as thoughts of cults and body dumps slide into your mind as easily as the damp. “It’s not like where we usually go, yeah, but--”
Looking over at the sodden angel, you notice every time a droplet rattles against the car windshield, Castiel gives a twitch of raw terror as though he’s been hit, eyes wide even as he cringes back into the seat. His eyes shut tight, his coat drawn up and the collar arranged past his ears, raising his shoulders as high as they can go. He makes a sound that is almost a bass beat, and settles into a little chant of what sounds like a prayer. “Ol gil de zacam salman. Ol trian zacam salman. Ol gil de zacam salman. Ol trian zacam salman. Ol gil...”
This goes on for what could possibly be ten minutes, although it feels more like ten months. Finally, that’s it, you are done.
“Cas. It’s raining. You’ve seen rain before, you know what it is. What are you going on about?”
“It is the Deluge again.” he says. “It is the Deluge and we cannot do anything.”
This...explanation...is put forward with such blunt honesty that you can barely keep from laughing. “Cas. It’s not the Flood. It’s just...it rains all the time. And the people suck here. But it’s not the Flood.”
“You are certain?”
“Yes.”
“I do not think you are correct.” Castiel says, glancing anxiously up at the car roof.
You shrug, drawing him closer. Castiel twitches, half fighting your touch, as if expecting somebody or something else, but recognition traces over his features as he sees you.
“The rain’s not so bad, Cas.” you say, cajoling as you settle your bodies into a roughly comfortable position. His coat, still damp from outside, is a wall between you, but it’s easy to do one better and draw the shaking angel into a cocoon of blankets. It’s easy enough to arrange his rumpled coat correctly, shifting it so it encircles him even more safely.
“See? It’s more sensible than spreading them across the entire backseat, Cas. Less wasteful. It’s safe, Cas. And here we are, together. You’re safe. We’re safe. It’s okay.”
His breath comes oddly as you hold him, sometimes shallow and hurried, other times even as usual, and then managing to be relaxed.“Thank you.” he says, very softly, even for him, glancing at you from under his collar. “I do not mind if we are going to die now.”