Dean lost it completely. "How the hell did you not notice that he had a freaking bullet in his shoulder?! Not to mention by the looks of it, it's probably dislocated too! WHAT KIND OF GIRLFRIEND ARE YOU ANYWAY?!"

"Dean…please don't yell at her. It's not her fau—" Cas broke off into a series of wracking coughs, unable to finish the thought. Dean waited for him to catch his breath, but when he saw that his friend couldn't he began to panic.

"Cas, slow it down. You're ok, just breathe."

As much as Cas wanted to listen to his friend, he felt himself pulled down into unconsciousness once again.

Dean swore and bent down to listen to Cas' chest, noticing the blood flecking his blue tinted lips.

Charlie looked almost as bad off as Cas and Dean took a deep breath, attempting a gentler tone this time. "Charlie, I think he might have a collapsed lung. I need you to grab the first aid kit out of the Impala. Look for an 18 gauge needle. It should be in the top left compartment in a blue plastic case. Can you do that?"

Charlie couldn't speak, she simply ran to the car and back as fast as she could.

Dean spoke as he prepped Cas' chest, swabbing it with the betadine. "Now, I need to insert the needle and re-inflate his lung. You might not want to see this."

Charlie grabbed her soon-to be husband's hand and squeezed her eyes shut. They snapped back open almost immediately though when she heard a low humming sound. The needle hovered over his chest, Dean had heard the noise too. He still wasn't moving any air and his eyes were wide with the panic that comes with oxygen deprivation. Dean knew he didn't have much time before hypoxia set it, and before he could really think about it he stabbed the needle in. There was a soft rush of air that could barely be heard over Charlie's sobs. Cas still couldn't make any noise, and his mouth was open in a silent scream. Somehow, that was even worse. Dean knelt down lower and listened for breath sounds, finding them strong bilaterally.

"Cas, hey dude, I'm sorry about that. You couldn't breathe."

Cas was making low croaking sounds, trying his hardest to speak. Dean couldn't really hear him, but he could make out 'hurts' from his lip movements.

"I know, I know. You're gonna be okay though. You hear me?"

Cas could hear Dean, but he wasn't really understanding. The pain was too much and he couldn't handle it. "Charlie…help m-me, please m-make it s-s-stop."

"Hey baby, I'm right here. Everything's going to be ok. We're going to fix you right up." Her normally awkward persona was gone, replaced with concern."

Cas continued whimpering and cried out in pain when he felt hands touching his shoulder. "Please, no! Don't! Stop, please stop!"

Dean steeled himself and determinedly[FJ1] jerked the arm, popping the shoulder back into place.

Cas let out something between a scream and a yelp and started hyperventilating. Dean cursed himself, knowing that unlike your run of the mill shoulder reduction, the bullet wound was making it impossible for the pain to subside. Despite this, Dean reached for his whiskey and poured it straight into the gaping wound.

"Dean, please…you're hurting me…please st…" Cas trailed off the pain overwhelming him and sliding back into unconsciousness.

"Damn, I think he's going into shock." Dean was all too familiar with the signs of shock, having seen them in Sam far too many times. "He's probably lost a lot of blood if he's been hurt since yesterday. I need to take the bullet out and stitch him up before he gets any worse. Charlie, are you listening?"

Charlie jerked back to reality and nodded. "What can I do to help?"

"I need a scalpel, a pair of extractors, gauze, more betadine, and whatever painkillers we've got left. Oh, and suture kits…grab a few."

When Charlie returned with the supplies Cas was just starting to wake up again. "Probably better this way, it'd be just my luck that he'd wake up in the middle and punch me in the face", Dean thought.

"Cas, you with me? I need you to listen up. I need to get the bullet out, but your blood pressure is really low right now. I can't give you anything for the pain because it could drop even lower. Try to think of someplace else if you can. Ok?"

Cas only nodded and Dean motioned for Charlie to move back and hold his arms once again. He balled up his flannel and put in in Cas' mouth so he wouldn't bite through his lip. Cas began to hyperventilate again and Charlie attempted to sooth him while Dean made the incision. The angel began to struggle, in pain and afraid. His screams were muffled but loud nonetheless. Dean reached in with his fingers, trying to locate the bullet and Cas' struggles increased.

"Charlie, I need you to keep him calm. I can't work with him moving all over the place. If you can hack into a super computer I'm sure you can handle this."

Charlie just wanted for Cas' pain to be over quickly so she tried talking to him, attempting to keep her voice steady and hide her fear. "Hey Cas, do you think we should invite Claire to the wedding?" Claire was 15 now, and before her mother had died Cas had made a promise to keep her safe. It was the least could do to repay Jimmy and honor his sacrifice. She now had a child of her own and came to visit once in a while. He nodded, tears falling onto the floor as Dean continued to search for the bullet.

"Just hang on man, I think I've got it. Charlie give me the extractors. Ok Cas, deep breath, try not to move."

Dean slid the extractors into the wound and angled them downward latching onto the bullet. Unfortunately Cas, who had been staying fairly still so far, couldn't hold on any longer. He began to roll back and forth on the floor, his cries muffled through the shirt. The movement caused Dean to lose his grip on the bullet and he could feel it slip deeper into the shoulder. Cas arched up and Dean had to shove him back down, putting pressure on his already injured ribs. "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP. MAKE IT GO AWAY."

Dean blocked it all out, that was one of the only things that he was good at, blocking things out. He'd sure had his fair share of practice in that area. He finally got a good hold on the round, and pulled it out slowly, carefully to avoid causing any more bleeding.

[FJ1]