[Daryl jumped back at the approach the same as he had at the fuel station. It happened without thought. Arms spreading to his sides to keep his body lines open, keep them from being trapped against his side in case Castiel reached for him. He didn't even realized he'd flinched, head jerking away, shoulder's scrunching up. Expecting to be lashed out at. Castiel's current confidence of presence was triggering every old muscle memory Daryl had of his father's temper, the bottle, and the belt that came after.
He caught himself after Cas stopped and started berating him for his disbelief. His chest heaved at little at a suddenly thundering heart. He barely heard what was being said. But he got his head together enough to understand it after a moment.
He'd raged loudly over the earpieces, spit fire into his words. That wasn't the anger he presented now. That had just been him getting it out of his system. The safest way he knew how. A way that didn't involve hurting people.
When he wanted to hurt someone he dropped into a cold fury. It was one filled with fear (for his friends, for himself), worry (for those he had to keep alive), the need to protect (everyone that relied on him). Daryl brought that up now, closed the distance between them. He reached out to grab Castiel by the front of his coat and pull him in so he could growl into his face, voice quiet but not nearly calm enough.]
I believe you believe what you're saying. And that your friend, believes you. But that don't mean it's the truth. It don't mean it's real. So you can stop your fucking preaching because the choir checked out a long time ago and the corpses of the congregation's been eating them for years.
no subject
He caught himself after Cas stopped and started berating him for his disbelief. His chest heaved at little at a suddenly thundering heart. He barely heard what was being said. But he got his head together enough to understand it after a moment.
He'd raged loudly over the earpieces, spit fire into his words. That wasn't the anger he presented now. That had just been him getting it out of his system. The safest way he knew how. A way that didn't involve hurting people.
When he wanted to hurt someone he dropped into a cold fury. It was one filled with fear (for his friends, for himself), worry (for those he had to keep alive), the need to protect (everyone that relied on him). Daryl brought that up now, closed the distance between them. He reached out to grab Castiel by the front of his coat and pull him in so he could growl into his face, voice quiet but not nearly calm enough.]
I believe you believe what you're saying. And that your friend, believes you. But that don't mean it's the truth. It don't mean it's real. So you can stop your fucking preaching because the choir checked out a long time ago and the corpses of the congregation's been eating them for years.