Castiel stands with his back to the shower's wall, though he's currently not leaning on it as he lets the water just run over him for a moment. His arms are wrapped around himself, belying tension and discomfort. Part of him is still trying to hide from Sam, to shrink away.
It's not even that he's ashamed of the marks on his body, but they're private, intimate in ways Castiel hasn't known about before, and he feels strange sharing them with Sam, even though he knows he has to. Even though he knows he called for help, and wants help.
It still feels... off. Without Jason's commands, he's lost, as if he never learned to stand on his own feet after all.
And then slowly, still keeping his back to the wall, he reaches behind him, because it's getting worse with every passing moment, and he just needs to be rid of it right now.
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It's not even that he's ashamed of the marks on his body, but they're private, intimate in ways Castiel hasn't known about before, and he feels strange sharing them with Sam, even though he knows he has to. Even though he knows he called for help, and wants help.
It still feels... off. Without Jason's commands, he's lost, as if he never learned to stand on his own feet after all.
And then slowly, still keeping his back to the wall, he reaches behind him, because it's getting worse with every passing moment, and he just needs to be rid of it right now.