Chapter Text
The alarm didn't go off.
Actually, alarms plural.
Castiel was lying to himself as he dove into a semi-clean cable-knit sweater and wrinkled pair of worn jeans. He'd actually set five alarms--each one exactly five minutes past the previous. 5:30, 5:35, 5:40, etc. He'd done this every day for the past five years of his career. He wasn't sure when this habit started. Probably gradually when it became progressively harder to actually peal himself out of bed every morning. He blamed his insomnia. In reality it was probably the sugar and caffeine-laced energy drinks he nursed every evening to get this grading papers.
The idea of consecutive alarms was to prevent falling back asleep after snoozing the first. This plan didn't actually work if you ended up sleeping right through all of the alarms. They had all gone off in neat succession, but Castiel hadn't heard a single one. He was now left with exactly 30 minutes to get himself out the door and to his office before the 8 am class began. He'd already been late several times this semester. If he was late again, his worst student would officially have a better attendance record than he did. He refused to have more tardies than Brent.
Castiel wrapped a stale bagel in a paper towel, grabbed his messenger bag, and stumbled out the door. He'd just managed to lock the apartment when he felt the distinct cell-phone shaped absence in his back pocket. He unlocked the apartment and began a frantic search. When he found his cellphone, the battery read a pathetic 20%. It would probably last till lunchtime. He had a charger in his office, right? Right!? There was no time to find his apartment charger. Castiel jammed the phone in his pocket and left his apartment for the second time.
The only saving grace was the university campus' proximity. He'd made the decision to live close to campus when he'd first landed his professorship. He'd figured he'd be living in his office most of the week anyway between meetings, research, and undergrad mentorship responsibilities. He'd been grateful for an apartment close enough to avoid purchasing a car or using Uber or public transit. Now, as he hurried down the slick sidewalk, he questioned the blessing. Walking to work was fine when the weather was good. At the moment, he was one misstep away from slipping on the ice and blowing a hip. Castiel clenched chattering teeth, pressed his wings tighter to his aching body, and kept his head down against the sharp January breeze. He thought of his brother happily vacationing in Florida. Curse him.
When he arrived on campus, he debated just skipping his office and heading directly to his classroom. There was no time! It was 7:56. His lecture notes and work laptop were in his office, though. He needed them. Castiel was vaguely aware of a colleague calling out a greeting to him, but he didn't have the emotional bandwidth to answer. He grabbed his teaching supplies in one frantic scoop and sailed out the door to his room. He could hear the faint murmur of conversation from the other side of the door. It was a packed class this semester. He wasn't sure why students kept signing up for him. He had no idea what RateMyProf was saying about him online. He'd never read his reviews. It couldn't be that bad judging by his semester attendance.
"Good morning, settle, please. I can't hear myself think."
There was a faint bubble of laughter as the students took seats and quieted. Castiel felt eyes resting on his curiously as he made his way to his desk and dumped his supplies on top.
"I sincerely hope you all had a better weekend than I did. No ill-advised life decisions?"
"I got a new tattoo!" a nameless student called out with poorly-disguised glee. Who was that? Castiel wondered. Jae? Jill? He glanced up at the packed seating and tried to place the name from his mental student roster. Jinger?
"Permanent or press-on?" he asked. "Tell me you haven't told your mother yet?"
There was more laughter and another student chose to share their own life update.
"I got a job at the campus coffee shop!"
That caught Castiel's attention. He looked up until he found the student that had shared this vital piece of news.
"Thank all that is holy! Tell me you know when they're bringing back the oat milk cinnamon espresso. It's a need and I'm suffering."
There was more tittering. The student was grinning as he held up a large disposable cup. "If I give you this, will you bump my grade?"
"Is it drugged?"
"Of course not!"
"is it spiked?"
"Maybe!"
"Pass it up front. I haven't had any coffee yet today and I'm feeling like a wet paper bag."
The coffee cup was passed to the front amid laughter and Castiel gave the student a meaningful nod of gratitude. See me after class, whoever you are ,and we can discuss realistic ways to improve your grade. This coffee is definitely a good start."
Castiel turned to the rest of the class.
"Let it be known that we are now at that point in the semester where I am excepting bribes. However, if one soul shares this with the department head, I will personally hunt you down."
Castiel let the laughter die down as he powered on his laptop and opened his PowerPoint. He didn't smile exactly, but the students' humor and playful camaraderie had definitely helped. Everyone was always griping about the flaws and irresponsibility of the next generation. Truthfully, Castiel didn't mind the easy-going digs and dry humor. He related to them far more than his older colleagues. He actually thought highly of many of his students. Truthfully, it wasn't easy to feel intimidated by students when your life was just as much of a dumpster fire as theirs. Fire recognized fire. At least they accepted his dorky jokes and dark humor. He could speak their language at least.
The lecture went surprisingly well. There was the cursory scattering of questions and observations. It wasn't like every student was on the edge of their seat in rapt awe, but Castiel was confident he had a good cluster of engaged and interested students. Most had done the reading going off the level of engagement and homework sheets passed forward. The few that didn't show interest had the decency to keep quiet and sit toward the back like good little delinquents. A small group even stayed after class as he was powering down his laptop.
His TA, Alfie, helpfully headed off the group like a bouncer in a bar. Castiel smiled to himself in gratitude. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to his students. He was just very done. The coffee he'd accepted from his student had had far too much sugar in it. Castiel had been grateful for the sugar rush mid lecture. Now, though, he just felt nauseous and light-headed. He needed to get to his office and put his head between his knees for a few minutes. It hadn't always been like this. He hadn't always been such a weak, pathetic shell. It was little things now. Everything set him off. Temperature changes, strong smells, loud noises, someone chewing way too loud. It would have been comical if it wasn't so real. Honestly, Alfie was a God-send. He did everything for him. Ran interference on after-hours student interactions, kept up with the class message board, stocked his office with ibuprofen and the instant hot packs Castiel was addicted to.
"Hey, Prof, you got a free minute for questions?"
Cure you, Alfie!
Castiel bit back a wince. It must be a good question if protective Alfie was actually willing to involve him.
Castiel looked up, sighed at the inquisitive huddle of students, and forced a smile. "Sure, thing! What's got you all so interested?"
"We were just wondering about lecture--that one part you mentioned," a student began unhelpfully.
One part, Castiel thought impatiently. Which part. There were many parts!
"That part where you said humans and angels had symbiotic relationship potential.
Oh, that part, Castiel thought with a sigh. This was going to be interesting. He loved his subject: Human anthropology--the rise and fall of a sentient species. It was fascinating and far from an exact science. The theories were far and wide ranging. He didn't blame his students' inquisitiveness. He was just as curious and he didn't have half the answers he wanted as a scholar and researcher.
"Yes, I remember that part vividly," Castiel answered with a smile. "What would you like to know?"
"Is it true? I mean, do you think that angels and humans actually help each other equally in a real partnership? Like we both need each other to reach our full potential as a species?"
This wasn't a very objective question. This topic was full of speculation and theories. Castiel had heard them all. This was why he offered a very broad opinion on this. He refused to take a side in the angel-human debates.
"When I mentioned this topic in lecture, I did explain that there are many views on this 'need.' Some don't think of the angel-human relationship as a need so much as a nice diversion. Like a hobby. Others feel that there was a deeper history between angels and humans. Like a fundamental meeting of destinies and fates."
"Yeah, but what do you think?" one of the students pressed.
Castiel shot Alfie a look, but even his TA seemed invested in this question and answer.
"What I think doesn't really matter," Castiel returned carefully. "My job is to expose you all to possibilities and theories that foster creative new perspectives."
"That is some professor-speak crap," a student muttered. "You're a person. You're allowed to have opinions."
"My job is not to alter your opinions with my opinions. It's your choice," Castiel said, eyeing the bold student. "This is a hot-button topic. I'm not raising up an army of personal zealots. I'm giving you the tools to form your own beliefs."
"But humans are sentient. Like they can have real relationships and make choices. My aunt has one and they do everything together. She says that it even picks out what it wants to wear."
Castiel stomach was burning. It wasn't heartburn. It was his stomach ulcer flaring. The coffee had been a bad idea. Honestly, teaching such a controversial college-level subject was a bad idea, too, and yet here he was for the fifth consecutive year.
"If I tell you my thoughts, will you all promise to still do the reading and actually form your own belief system? Not just copy and paste mine?"
There was a bobble of heads and murmur of agreement. Castiel sighed and shot Alfie a meaningful look.
"I believe humans do possess a level of sentience in that they are not pet hamsters that live in a cage and drink from a hanging water bottle. However, they are still vulnerable beings who require care and management. Perhaps the conspiracies are true and they used to possess higher level reasoning and civilization. The proof is inconclusive. However," Catstiel continued, stressing the word pointedly, "just because they are vulnerable, that does not mean they should be subjected to abuse or mishandling. If anything, this vulnerability means we, as the higher intelligence species, have a responsibility to care for them and ensure their survival. Every creature deserves respect."
"What about human experimentation?" a student offered. Castiel raised a hand, his patience a frayed and sparking wire.
"What did I just say about decency and respect?"
"What about the therapy research?" a girl interrupted. "They say that angels with human therapy pets have had huge improvements. Like healing from real trauma and--"
Castiel cut her off in the nicest way possible. He wasn't going there.
"It's all interesting speculation and research I look forward to reading. However, right now, I need to head to my office and take a pill."
There was a chorus of giggles and heckles.
"Not a fun pill," Castiel shot back. "A strictly 'for-survival-and-well-being pill.'"
"How much is the pill's resale value?" one of the boys asked with a grin and wink.
Castiel didn't dignify that with a response. "All other questions, submit to Alfie or on the student message board. I'll answer the intelligent ones. The others I'm deleting."
The students were still teasing when Castiel managed to finally escape to his office. He sunk into his chair and let his body sag. His stomach hurt. His head hurt. He was light-headed.
He remembered his bagel, but when he unwrapped it from the paper towel, several suspicious puffs of green fuzz dotted it. Castiel considered it. He couldn't remember what foods were safe to eat with mold. There were a few that were supposed to be ok if you picked the mold off. What were they? He set the bagel down. He could just go to the staff lounge. There was usually a good variety of free foods set out. It was a nice courtesy afforded to tentured professors.
He considered the pain his his lower back and his lightheadedness. The walk to the lounge felt impossibly far. It was easier just to sit and rot in his chair. He had another lecture in 45 minutes, though. There was no way he was getting through this day without his meds. However, meds required something in his stomach to cushion them. He'd learned that the hard way after puking for hours after taking the pills without eating when he'd first started his prescriptions.
Castiel pressed his hands into his eyes and groaned. He hated the fact he needed these pills at all. It wasn't like he was doing that much better with them.
"Hey, Prof, I chased away your mob of admirers."
Castiel looked up at Alfie. The young man was grinning playfully, but when he saw Castiel's state, he sobered immediately.
"What do you need?"
Castiel appreciated the blunt, to-the-point question. This was why he and Alfie worked so well together. Castiel had posted a public threat on the professor Microsoft Team's chat when he'd learned of the possibility of Alfie being reassigned several semesters ago. The threat worked and there had been no further rumors of Alfie being replaced.
"Something bland and dry. Also water. No ice."
"Got it."
Castiel let his head sink to the desk and rest heavily as he waited for Alfie to return. He swallowed back the faint flavor of bile in his throat. He'd been doing so well at the beginning of class. Yes, he was a rushed and messy teacher that had barely arrived on time. Still, he given his lesson with energy and interest and had kept his students engaged. He did truly have one of the highest attended classes in the program. For someone who claimed to have no real opinion on human anthropology and sociology, he was well-versed in sharing all the perspectives. Humans were a fascinating and controversial topic. His students loved to hear him lecture on it.
If only his students could see him in his true state. Would they still think he was the cool, dry-humored professor that took coffee bribes and cracked jokes?
The door opened but Castiel didn't look up. Alfie knew to just lay the offering on the desk and leave quietly. He'd check on him in a few to make sure he hadn't passed out. Alfie had learned that lesson the hard way several semesters ago.
Castiel squinted up at his desk, but there was no food. Instead, the department head, Anna Milton, stared back at him.
"Cas'?" she began slowly. Her eyes were sharp and searching. "How are you?"
"Oh, you know," Castiel forced out with a fake smile. "It's a Monday!"
He bit back a moan at the sharp pain that lanced through his head. He felt his smile wither.
"Cas, this isn't the first time I've found you like this. I know you're not well."
"Medical info is confidential information," Castiel bit out, panic rising. "Employers can't discriminate on personal health."
"No, not discriminate," Anna returned. "Not unless I have very real concerns about the well-being of both my employee and his students. It's only an issue if you can't provide a high-quality teaching experience."
Castiel swallowed down his nausea. He felt cornered. This didn't feel like an accidental discovery. This felt planned.
"And do you have concerns?"
Anna gave a little frown that looked hurt. "Cas, we've known each other for over a decade. You know I'm not purposely ambushing you. Not like that. I'm checking on you because I am concerned."
"Who narc'd on me?" Castiel gritted out. "Was it Toby? Did he tell you he caught me puking in a bush outside the library?"
Anna blinked.
Castiel winced.
"Have you puked outside the library... recently?"
"It doesn't matter."
"Cas, just listen. This isn't an interrogation or even an intervention. Not yet. This is a concerned friend." Anna sat down across from him. She smiled crookedly. "Come on, you know me. You helped me with my capstone project in undergrad. You caught the worst possible typo in history before my advisor read it."
Castiel managed a smile. He remembered the story vividly. Anna had been different back then. Softer. More open. He missed that Anna. He'd trade the Department Head Anna for Old Anna in a heart beat.
"I know something is wrong. I've heard rumors..." Anna looked at him searchingly. "There was a story about you... being hurt badly. Bad enough that you're still taking medication for it."
Castiel wanted to jump out of his chair and flee. He was not doing this. Not this. Not today. Not any day.
"I know you're not well. I can see you're in an incredible amount of pain every day, but you still show up and your students love you. Your classes are consistently packed because of you. I love that. But I also don't love this idea of you suffering on a daily basis."
"What exactly do you want?" Castiel rasped. He eyed her sharply. How dare this nosy woman! He could feel his wings fluffing out defensively behind him. He knew she could see it. Hers were carefully tucked back in a deliberate effort to appear smaller and less threatening. He knew psychology! He knew what she was doing.
"I haven't talked to the board. I won't. None of my concerns will leave this room."
Castiel stared sickly. What was her game?
"If," she continued. "You see a doctor and get real help. I need to see documentation of this or I will escalate my concerns."
Alfie chose that inopportune moment to return. He stood in the doorway with a small napkin-wrapped piece of toast and a cup of water. He was frozen, the electric tension in the room paralyzing him. Castiel didn't care. He needed his toast because he needed his meds and damn Anna for being right there to witness his shame!
He waved Alfie over, snatched the toast, and forced it down in three nauseous bites. He grabbed his orange pill bottle and dumped two pills into his hand. They went down with a swallow of water. He breathed in and out exactly 5 times and prayed he would keep it all down.
Anna watched the whole thing in silence. Castiel glared up at her.
"Happy!?" he choked. "Is that what you were waiting to see. Yeah, I'm sick. I've been sick for years now. It's worse now because it just is. Yeah, a jerk ruined my life and now I need chemicals to function."
"Cas--"
"I've already seen a doctor. That's how I got these!" He rattled the pill bottle at her.
"That's not good enough! If you're collapsing in your office after every lecture, you obviously need more help. I'm not waiting until one of your students finds you unconscious in your classroom! or worse!"
"What do you want, Anna?" Castiel felt his anger simmering. He felt too weak to sustain it any longer. He felt beaten.
"I want you to see a new doctor and get a new plan in action. Something that will keep you on your feet and well. You're too young and too genius to burn-out this early in your teaching career. I won't let that happen. Not to my friend."
She still thought of him as a friend? Interesting.
"What doctor exactly?" Castiel muttered snidely. Like Anna had any idea what he needed. She had no idea what he'd gone through!
Anna slid a card over the desk toward him. Castiel eyed the card. It was crisp and professional with a single name in bold type font. Balthazar Roche, MD. Trauma-informed holistic care and wellness.
What in the fresh hell is this?
"He's a wonderful physician. He has a ton of extremely thought-provoking research out. He's got several fellowships under his belt too. He's the real deal.
"Is he one of those quacks that tells people to smoke herbs and rub crystals together. Holistic care and wellness..." Castiel's voice trailed off in disgust. "What does that even mean?"
"It means he not going to just slap a band aide over whatever is wrong with you or load you up with chemicals. He's going to look at you as a whole person."
It suddenly occurred to Castiel that Alfie was still in the room and watching this entire sick display with poorly-disguised curiosity. The young man was clearly trying to disappear into the wall, but was too curious to actually leave.
Castiel snatched the card off the desk.
"You have one week, Cas. I need you to go and get checked out. Come back with a plan and we'll talk about you taking you classes back."
"Taking them back?!" Castiel felt his chest tighten. "Taking what back?" Surely Anna hadn't just hijacked his life!
"Yes, as of today, I'm putting you on mandatory leave. You're lucky it's not a full sabbatical. I'm giving you a week to at least make an effort to get your life on track. I'm trying to do it in the most subtle way possible. No one else needs to know about this. For all intent and purposes, you're just taking a quick vacation.
Castiel leaned down and puked into the waste basket beneath his desk. It occurred to him mid-heave that he'd forgotten to put a new plastic liner in it.
When he straightened back up, Anna was still there. Alfie was gone, thankfully. Anna was watching him intently. Her face soft and concerned. She suddenly looked like the Old Anna again. He felt a sharpness in his chest--not pain but something similar.
"I don't want to do this, An," he murmured, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.
She reached across his desk and lay her hand on top of his own. There were varying shades of bruises over his papery skin. He hated his hands. It had been such a long time since someone had touched him. Since he'd allowed someone to touch him.
"Cas, I'm here for you. I know we grew apart, but I still consider you a friend. I don't want whatever this is to get worse for you. Let me help?"
Castiel considered the question. He eyed the card and address on the bottom. The address was on the other side of town. It would be a long Uber ride.
"Give me a ride?"
Anna smiled and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Done."