AN: I don't even know what this is! I wanted to practice writing some action. And I wanted to whump Castiel. So I did both. And I enjoyed it - you might too? Slightly AU, set during season 4/5
Do Angels Scar?
Dean gasped as a flurry of feathers surrounded him, the whoosh of wind deafening in his ears and almost knocking him off his feet. The sounds were muffled in his strange feathery cocoon but he could hear the repetitive dull, thumping blasts of raw, angelic power that shook the Earth under his feet as they impacted his impromptu shield. Louder though, were Castiel's grunts of pain that accompanied every thudding blow. Glancing behind him, Dean can see the angel's face screwed up in pain.
"I can't...keep this up," Castiel ground out, a gasp of pain punctuating the end of his sentence. "Hold on."
And before Dean had a chance to even consider processing Castiel's words, the angel's strong arms wrapped around him and he was wrenched into the air with another accompanying roar of wind. His stomach lurched at the sudden ascent and the concrete and stainless steel of the Detroit city block blurred into a queasy, rushing grey.
Dean shut his eyes as the wind chill stung his face; he was hardly a frequent flyer on Castiel Airways but he had a sinking feeling (or was that just the G-Force?) that something was not quite right with the angel's flight. His suspicions were confirmed when he opened his eyes just early enough to see the roof a skyscraper rapidly rising towards them.
Fuck.
He couldn't help squeezing his eyes shut again and even when he felt Castiel roll over in the air he still didn't open them. It wasn't until he felt the dreaded impact, that he risked cracking his eyes open, if only to double check that he wasn't dead.
Only the dull, overcast clouds were there to congratulate his accomplishment and Dean began slowly getting his brain back out of the ohfuckgoingtocrashandburn-shut down and back into awareness so he could check if Castiel had-
Castiel!
Dean leapt to his feet as he heard the angel groan which was only when he realised that he had been lying on something...squishy. Roofs weren't squishy; Dean looked down at the impact site and gasped – Angels on the other hand, apparently were.
"Cass!"
So Cass had used his body to cushion Dean's fall, that explained the midair rollover, but, from the way Castiel's eyes were trying to roll back into his skull, it had cost him. Dean's suspicions were confirmed when Castiel clumsily pulled himself to a sitting position, revealing a crimson stain were his head had been lying.
"Cass, you okay?" Dean panicked as the angel dragged himself to his feet, swaying momentarily before fixing Dean with a wavering gaze and pointing to a nearby water tank.
"There. Hide," Castiel ground out and Dean frowned.
Hide? They were fighting Zachariah and Castiel really thought that hiding behind a water tank would hide him from the high-angel's eyes? That blow to the head must have been as bad as it looked.
"Go!" Castiel yelled and Dean knew better than to disagree when Casitel used that voice. He purposely avoided looking down as he sprinted across the flat roof of the skyscraper, freaked out enough without knowing how many hundred stories up Castiel had flown.
As he crouched behind the metallic water tank, too out of breath even to hum some heavy metal to calm himself, Dean focused on trying to slow his breathing, and keep onto his lunch – he hated flying.
He was even more thankful to be on solid ground when he peered out from his hiding place and watched Castiel's next attempt at take-off. It was obvious that the angel was hurt; one wing was fully materialised, almost dangling off the angel's back and only half-unfurled, the other was a flickering shadow which quickly manifested in a burst of black light and feathers. It was breathtaking and, for a minute, Dean just basked in awe at the angel's power. He was quickly broken out of his reverie though as he heard a thunderous wingbeat and saw Zachariah appear in front of Castiel, his mighty wings keeping him hovering just in the angel's eye line.
"Oh dear, oh dear..." the angel smirked and Dean clenched his fists, the bastard was making fun while Castiel was a broken, bloody mess –and the dickwad considered himself 'righteous'.
"You aren't looking too good, little brother,"
Castiel said nothing but Dean saw him stagger a little. He could see blood on the angel's trenchcoat around the socket of his right wing and, as he traced the feathered appendage with his eyes, he noticed the jagged, irregular break in the otherwise smooth outline. Castiel had a broken wing...a broken wing, a concussion and God knows what else because Dean hadn't listened and now his friend was paying the price.
"Just look at you..." Zachariah continued as he landed effortlessly on the lip of the skyscraper. Castiel took a few unsteady paces backwards before collapsing to one knee with a cry of pain. Zachariah was on him in an instant, striding over to the angel until he was standing above him, radiating power despite his dull looking vessel.
"A one-winged angel," the bastard ginned sadistically, grabbing onto the exposed bone of Castiel's wing and squeezing. Dean winced and looked away as Castiel howled in pain – Dean had never heard the angel make anything close to sounding like he was in that kind of pain.
"Now that really is pathetic," Zachariah smirked, letting go of the wing and Dean looked back to see Castiel hunch over, huddling into himself with the pain. Every instinct in him was screaming at him to go and confront Zachariah, to buy Castiel a little respite from the pain, but he knew it was useless. He just had to have some faith in Cass but...fuck it was hard to hear his friend suffering like that.
"Look at it this way, Castiel," Zachariah spoke conversationally as Castiel breathed ragged, sobbing gasps of breath, still hunched over one knee. Dean couldn't see that well from his position but he was sure the angel was crying.
"You can give me Dean Winchester now...a token gesture of course, I know he's cowering behind that water tower, an even more pathetic sight than you." Zachariah sneered before switching back to his falsely cheerful tone. "But give me him now and you can count that as brownie points towards your redemption. Or you can continue to fight me, I'll send you packing for another little lesson in Heaven, I just know how much you loved the last one, and then I'll take Dean Winchester myself."
"You...you can't touch him," Castiel ground out and Dean cheered inwardly at his friend's show of defiance.
"No...no that is true..." Zachariah acknowledged as his wings evaporated into black mist which dissipated in the Detroit air and the high-angel began to pace across the skyscraper's roof.
"But that won't last for long, will it?" he smirked and Dean felt his heart plummet into his stomach. He'd thought Castiel's protective spell was a permanent deal. Of course he'd been so keen to get into Detroit with Castiel and find God that he hadn't really listened to the specifics. Sure Castiel had mentioned some side-effects but Dean hadn't cared what would happen to him after this battle, he still didn't care what this spell would cost him as long as he could save Sam from Lucifer.
"How long can you work that magic in that state, Castiel?" Zachariah pondered before grinning sadistically and dragging Castiel into the air with a telekinetic pull. "Shall we find out?"
Dean barely had time to throw himself out of the way before Castiel's body impacted the water tank, leaving a huge dint and a sickening bloodstain across the metal structure.
"Cass!" Dean scrambled forward, crouching at Castiel's side and rolling the angel onto his left side, aware of the mangled wing still sticking out of the right.
"Cass? Fuck, Cass, we need to get out of here. Zap us out of here, man!"
Dean heard Zachariah scoff and he looked up to see the angel striding towards them.
"Cass...come on...come on..." Dean coaxed, manipulating the angel's hand and pressing it against his forehead – yeah, he really was that fucking hysterical.
"'Cass' has got no chance of teleporting in that state," Zachariah observed and Dean frowned, pulling himself to his feet and standing in front of his fallen friend.
"What?" Zachariah shrugged, "Who do you think taught him? I know Castiel's abilities inside out and, I'll let you in on a little secret."
Dean tensed as the angel moved in close, whispering in his ear, "They don't measure up to much. Not when he's wasting so much of his power keeping you safe from me anyway."
Dean faltered, taking his eyes off Zachariah to stare down at Castiel. The side-effects of this spell hurt Castiel? But Dean had thought...it would be him - it should be him!
"Oh he didn't tell you?" Zachariah asked with raised eyebrows stepping out of Dean's personal space - thank fuck for that.
He didn't get chance, Dean thought bitterly as he remembered how he had silenced the angel's protests, shooting down Castiel's every attempt to explain.
Just do it, Cass, just do it, I don't care about the price.
And Castiel, with his limited understanding of human social convention probably thought that Dean didn't care that this was going to hurt him, probably thought that Dean didn't care about his suffering. And despite that, the angel was still here, broken and bloody and still doing his damnedest to save Dean's life.
"Oh yes, magic like that," Zachariah gestured to Dean, staring at something clearly invisible to the human eye. "It takes its toll on the user and my little 'Cass' never was very good at magic."
Dean looked down at his friend and frowned as he watched Castiel's hand curl and then, with a flick of his wrist, the angel surged to his feet. The air filled with the sound of what sounded like a thousand whistling darts and Dean's eyes widened as a flurry of shards of glass from the shattered windows of the Detroit skyline surged towards Zachariah, landing in the high-angel's skin with a spatter of sickening, wet thuds.
And suddenly, staring at a human pin cushion, every inch of skin sporting a protruding sliver of glass, Dean was back in hell, back to when he'd been on the receiving end of such grotesque torture. Except, it's not a thousand glass slivers piercing him at once, it's a series of seemingly never ending blades from Alastair's toybox, tipped with gasoline and tar and alcohol and 997 other things to make him scream.
With a hand on his shoulder, Castiel pulled Dean from hell once again, without even realising as the hunter was pulled out his flashback and back into the fray. Castiel was dragging him, yelling something and Dean suddenly realised that he would probably move faster if he actually ran instead of just stumbling forwards towards the edge of the building...the edge of the...
"Fuck, Cass stop! We're gonna!"
Gravity explained what Dean didn't have the time or coherence to as Castiel pulled Dean off the lip of the skyscraper and started the next leg of the mid-air rollercoaster they'd started earlier. Dean clung onto Castiel's arm for dear life, literally, and looked up in alarm as he watched Castiel's one functioning wing flapping desperately to stop them hurtling straight to the sidewalk. No, instead they were hurting in a downward spiral to the sidewalk but, thankfully, at least not fast enough to kill them on impact.
Dean sighed with relief as Castiel dumped him on the sidewalk before making his own stumbling landing, staggering onto his hands and knees with exhaustion. The angel even looked proud as he turned to look at Dean but the relief didn't last long as a looming shadow cast over them both and Dean looked past Castiel to see Zachariah standing before them, the shards of glass dropping from his body one by one and shattering on the concrete below.
"Ouch, Castiel," Zachariah sneered, the cuts healing before Dean's very eyes. The hunter risked a glance to Castiel and watched as his eyes filled with anguish, sweat trickling down his brow as the weary angel panted for breath.
He's exhausted, Dean realised. He can't keep this up any more.
"C'mon, Cass," Dean whispered, almost praying for the angel to come up with...something, anything to get them out of this mess.
"Yes, yes, come on, 'Cass'," Zachariah mocked, wincing as he reached behind his head and, slowly pulled out one remaining shard of glass.
"Mmmm...that's got it.," the high angel sighed contentedly, rolling his shoulders before abruptly turning and throwing the jagged spike like a dart. Dean barely had time to process that before he heard Castiel's howl of pain. The angel was clutching at his eye with one hand and Dean panicked as he saw the stark crimson trickling through Castiel's fingers.
"Oh dear, one wing and now one eye, what a great guardian you make, Castiel," Zachariah chuckled as he towered over the angel and Dean narrowed his eyes, seething as he watched Zachariah enjoying Castiel's torment.
"You son of a bitch!" the hunter screamed, fury clouding his judgement as he made a beeline straight for Zachariah. The angel tilted his head, almost amused as Dean rushed towards him and Dean yelled a wordless cry as he swung his fist straight into the bastards face...and staggered as he hit only thin air, Zachariah reappearing a few feet away behind Castiel.
"No, Dean Winchester, I think the only son of a bitch here is you. It was your stupid bitch of a mother who was making deals with demons for the life your hopeless, pathetic heretic of a father."
Dean seethed as the bastard hit every raw nerve, grabbing Castiel by the hair and pulling him upright as he continued to taunt the hunter.
"And your father, making deals to save your even more pathetic life. And then there's you, following in Mommy and Daddy's bastard footsteps and making a deal to save the most pathetic one of you all, little Sammy who's only-"
Zachariah was cut off with a grunt as Castiel thrust his elbow back into his gut. With Catiel's hand removed from his face, Dean could see the ugly gash across the angel's eye socket, tricking blood into his half-shut eye. He didn't have time to study for long as Castiel followed up his blow with a series of punches which, unlike Dean's, actually connected with Zachariah's face…
Zachariah responded with a roar, thrusting his open palm into Castiel's chest and Dean watched in horror as Castiel was thrown into the air with the force of it, the blow knocking him all the way over the road and into the wall of a shopping mall. To Dean's surprise though, Castiel managed to twist himself in the air, landing on the side of the building feet first and pushing off into a somersault before landing, somewhat unsteadily on the ground, his broken wing pulling his balance to the side a little.
Damn, Castiel could be pretty awesome when he tried; Dean could only imagine what kind of a fight Castiel would have put up if he wasn't weakened from maintaining Dean's protection spell.
As it was though, Castiel's bust of energy was fleeting as he collapsed onto one knee; even from across the street, Dean could see the angel's shoulders heaving as he panted for breath, blood from the angel's multiple wounds dripping onto the sidewalk.
Zachariah tsked and shook his head, casting Dean a glance. "He's been spending far too long around you, Dean," the angel rolled his eyes theatrically. "He wasn't this defiant when we dragged him back to Heaven."
Dean glowered at the balding bastard, his wit failing him as he scrabbled in his mind for some smart ass comeback to keep Zachariah's attention off Castiel for a little longer.
"Then again..." Zachariah mused in the silence of Dean's failure. "This is only a fraction of what I did to him there, isn't it boy?!" the high angel raised his voice at the last bit, turning his gaze back to Castiel who wearily dragged himself to his feet.
"All that and it still didn't work," Dean smirked, covering the short distance to Castiel, taking his time knowing that Zachariah couldn't touch him so long as Castiel was working that spell. His smile soon faded though as he set eyes on Castiel, struggling to get back to his feet.
"Cass, come on man," Dean gripped Castiel's arm, pulling him upright and whispering in the angel's ear. "Take the spell off man, kick his ass."
"I...can't," Casitel ground out, his tone laced with weariness and what sounded to Dean like guilt.
"Yes you can," he insisted. "That spell's holding you back, just release the charm."
"He'll see," Castiel argued through gritted teeth. "He'll harm you the second I..." Castiel broke off with a gasp of pain.
"Fuck, Cass, this is killing you!" Dean exclaimed, not releasing his grip on the angel's arm.
"No, no, no, Dean," came a distant voice and Dean watched as Zachariah unfurled his impressive wings, the appendages stretching out as shadows before materialising in a flurry of black feathers.
Dean took a few instinctive steps backwards as the angel leapt into the air before landing delicately on the kerb. All that just to cross the road...show off.
"I'm killing him!" the high angel announced as, his wings folding behind his back, the wingtips nearly touching the floor.
"Yeah? He doesn't look..." Dean trailed off as a flake of white fell past his vision. It was snowing? No...he realised as he caught a flake in his open palm and watched as left a black smudge along his hand.
"Ash?" he whispered as the flakes began to fall thick and fast, obscuring Zachariah from sight, and he turned to Castiel for an explanation, frowning when the angel simply stared into his eyes and, with a sudden stomach churning lurch, they were in the suburbs of Detroit.
"Huh? What? I-I thought you couldn't-"
"I'm stronger...than Zachariah believes," Castiel panted, his face far too pale, blood and sweat tricking over the bumps and bruises that marred the usually pristine skin.
"Now run, Dean," Castiel ordered, even as he almost collapsed into Dean's arms. "I couldn't teleport us far...I can't...I..."
"Easy, easy, easy..." Dean soothed as he watched Castiel descend into a panic.
"Run Dean, I'll try and..."
"I'm not leaving you here," Dean growled, gritting his teeth and gripping the lapels of Castiel's trench coat in his fists.
"Go!" Castiel insisted, though his teeth were more likely gritted from pain than frustration. Or maybe it was both.
"He'll kill you!" Dean protested, "I'm not leaving you here to-"
"He'll kill you," Castiel countered, weakly pushing away from Dean and staggering backwards. "If I die, the spell is broken, he can..." Castiel trailed off, and Dean could see how difficult it was for Castiel to even form a coherent thought as the angel crashed down to his knees.
"When I'm near you, he can find me and that means...he can find you. We...need...to split up..." Castiel's chin dropped to his chest, his one broken wing still jutting out from beneath his shoulder blades. "Now!" the angel choked out, turning pleading eyes on Dean who could only shake his head.
"I'm not letting him take you back to Heaven and torture you again, Cass. Not for me," Dean insisted, his heart aching at the thought of Castiel doing something like that for him when he was so unworthy.
Castiel looked up then, gazing into the sky at something Dean couldn't see.
"Too late," the angel mumbled and, as if on cue, Zachariah materialised before them looking worryingly pissed off. Dean actually gulped as he as he looked between Zachariah's thunderous expression and Castiel's exhausted, beaten-down form kneeling on the asphalt.
They were screwed, they were fucking screwed and oh God if that praying shit actually worked then Dean was praying right now. God...someone...anyone, get us out of here.
"Save us..." Dean mumbled, surprising himself as he heard the words form aloud.
Zachariah didn't seem to have noticed as he looked down at Castiel and shook his head. "Illusions, Castiel? Really?"
Dean frowned at that; what illusions? What had Castiel done now?
"Ash falling from the sky, yeah, that might work if I hadn't seen you pull the same trick for the past two thousand years. Give me some credit Castiel, I can see right through you."
Dean looked down at the palm of his right hand and saw that the black smudge of ash was gone, erased, like it had never been there. And maybe it hadn't. Castiel pulling the wool over Zachariah's eyes, well trying to anyway, Dean hadn't known he had it in him.
"And now, Dean, if you'll just wait there, Cass has a...prior appointment," the high angel raised his eyebrows as he pointed to the sky. "And then I'll be right with you."
Dean wanted to yell something, to scream at the bastard to stay away from Castiel but the words were stuck in his throat and he only managed to choke out a frustrated, frightened whimper.
"Heaven's employee of the month playing receptionist now? That's some demotion, Zachy-boy. You behind on your ass-kissing quota or something?"
Dean frowned at the new, teasingly familiar voice butting into their conversation and, when he set eyes on the speaker he had no idea whether to be disappointed or delighted.
"Gabriel." Zachariah's eyes were cold and uncompromising but the tightness at the corners revealed just how pissed he was.
Anything that pissed Zachariah off was generally a good thing as far as Dean was concerned, even if it happened to be something, or someone, who pissed them both off.
"This doesn't concern you."
"No," Gabriel shrugged in response to Zachariah's statement. "But I was bored so I thought I'd come and see what all the fuss was about. Looks like little Cass here put up quite the fight, huh? Shame I missed it."
Dean watched with some trepidation as Gabriel taunted Zachariah.
"Castiel's pathetic resistance was nothing of worth," Zachariah proclaimed and Dean shuddered as he remembered Castiel's desperate, broken attempts to keep them safe.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever tough guy." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "You're boring me now."
And, with a click of Gabriel's fingers, Zachariah was gone in a puff of smoke and light. Just like that.
"What the..." Dean's brain, overwhelmed with confusion, relief and wariness, still didn't seem in the mood to form any coherent sentences but he knew he had to protect Castiel. He could still remembered Castiel's bruised and bloodied face after Gabriel sent him packing from TV-land. But Gabriel had got rid of Zachariah so...
"How did you find us?" the hunter finally blurted out, one hand subconsciously tracing his ribs where, underneath the layers of clothing, skin, and flesh were the enochian warding symbols carved into each bone.
"Oh that maybe just that deafening prayer that nearly split my eardrums might have something to do with it," Gabriel rolled his eyes theatrically.
"My...praying?" Dean's brow was knitted in confusion.
"Oh yeah, 'save us, please, help us, waa, waa'," Gabriel mocked as he mimicked Dean's earlier thoughts. Dean, however, was too amazed at the fact that Gabriel had heard that to pay much attention to the archangel's childish taunting.
"You mean that actually works?" he asked incredulously.
"Weeeeeell...sometimes," Gabriel shrugged. "Depends how loud they are, how powerful and all that jazz. It's a lot easier to hear it all down here on the surface and, of course, I got my ear especially trained on you Winchesters."
"That so?" Dean raised his eyebrows, unable to push away the last few dregs of suspicion.
"So I can't find you, but I can find Cass, so I zap myself over here and save both of your asses and the two of you declare your undying gratitude and adoration."
Dean just stared blankly at the archangel, wishing Gabriel would just stop being a wise-guy for ten seconds and explain what was going on.
"Hmph," Gabriel pouted at the silence. "Well, Cass at least has an excuse..." the archangel acknowledged, his tone a little gentler as he knelt down beside Castiel's beaten form. Dean crouched down too, even though he knew he could do nothing to stop Gabriel if he wanted to hurt Cass.
"Hey little bro..." Gabriel was actually smiling softly now as he placed a hand under Castiel's chin. "You done good."
Castiel's one functioning eye was bloodshot and bleary, the pupil blown huge - Dean doubted the angel could see who was touching him but he figured Castiel might recognise the voice or, if his concussed brain couldn't manage that, then maybe even feel the older angel's presence on an angelic level.
And then none of that mattered as Gabriel tapped Castiel's forehead lightly with a whispered command to 'sleep' and the angel crumpled gracelessly into Dean's arms.
"Aha!" Gabriel grinned and Dean frowned as the archangel's hand was shoved next to his face, waving ridiculously close to his nose. "Yup, I knew it, it's gone."
"The spell?" Dean assumed and Gabriel nodded.
"That was some pretty badass protection you guys came up with, I'm impressed," the archangel admitted.
Words of praise from an angel were rare but Dean couldn't enjoy them. Instead he found himself ducking his head in shame and regret as he mumbled his incoherent reply. "I didn't know it was gonna...I wouldn't have asked...I didn't-"
Gabriel just rolled his eyes. "You think you're gonna win this war without sacrifices?" he asked, staring down at Castiel's battered form. Dean clutched the angel's body closer on reflex that anything else.
"Don't try and lecture me about sacrifice," he growled, the warm trickle of Castiel's blood tickling his trembling fingers, a tactile flashback to his decades in hell. Decades... And the realisation that his father had spent even longer than that down there for him. Yeah, the Winchesters could write the whole damned book on sacrifice.
Despite how hard Dean tried to sound angry, his next words came out hollow and empty. "I know all about sacrifice."
"No," Gabriel shook his head. "You think you know about it. But I'm not talking a life here or a life there; I'm talking hundreds, thousands of people. More probably"
Dean was shaking his head before he even started speaking, his mind rebelling against the very idea and somewhat frightened by the undercurrents of fear in Gabriel's voice. "We won't let it happen."
"Look around you," Gabriel asked, finally standing upright again and gesturing to the ruined city on the horizon. "It is happening."
"Help us then!" Dean knew he sounded fucking pathetic but he was begging on the fucking floor holding the unconscious body of his broken guardian angel – pathetic seemed just about appropriate.
Gabriel looked to the side, chuckling as he shook his head ruefully.
"Hellooo?!" he smirked, gesturing to his own form as he pointedly clicked his fingers, the same, simple action which had banished Zachariah. "I'm feeling kind of unappreciated here."
"You know what I mean," Dean glowered and Gabriel shrugged.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I know what you mean."
The words fluttered away in the silence as Dean grounded himself within the spiralling fear of the future by holding onto Castiel.
"He's still bleeding."
That was important for a hundred reasons but Dean didn't know how to voice them and, it seemed, Gabriel didn't want to reply.
"Heal him!" the hunter cried, not even sure where that frantic plea came from only that he was trembling and Castiel's blood was drying on his hands and he thought that he might actually be crying.
Crying and there was barely a scratch on him. Castiel...Dean didn't even know where to start cataloguing his injuries. There was the wing, of course, the broken fucking wing that probably felt way worse than it looked. And it looked sore as hell. Then there was his eye, swollen half shut and crusted with blood from a still-oozing cut that extended well into his hairline.
Do angels scar, Dean wondered. Would there be a permanent reminder of his stupidity and arrogance etched on Castiel's skin?
Sacrifice indeed...
"Oh thanks Einstein, hadn't thought of that one," Gabriel rolled his eyes in annoyance and Dean didn't find it even remotely funny.
"What's the problem, Boy Wonder?" It was a shit insult, not even a jibe really, but Dean enjoyed the sting of the venom on his lips. "Seriously, fix him up, let's get out of here." Denial, grief, annoyance, Dean was ticking all the boxes.
"No can do."
The words should have wound him up even more but Dean found himself seized with panic, not anger. "What do you mean?!"
"These wounds...these are angel's wounds, not something I can undo, even if I hadn't just used half my power sending that jackass halfway back to Heaven."
Dean was shaking his head. What was the point of saving them from Zachariah if Castiel was just gonna die in the middle of some ruined suburbia, bleeding all over the road? "Just do something!" Dean half yelled, half pleaded, screwing his eyes shut as he yelled out his frustration.
When he opened them again, he expected to see Gabriel's irritatingly smug face. Instead, he found himself in somewhere that sure as Hell wasn't Detroit. It was a house. Bobby Singer's house! He was on his ass in the middle of Bobby Singer's kitchen, Castiel still unconscious in his arms and – Ouch!
"What the?!" Dean tried to jump upright as he felt the slap to the back of his head. It wasn't easy with a fully a hundred pounds of angel on his lap and he ended up just jerking in place, craning his neck to see his assailant.
"Idjit."
Well. Who else could it be, really?
"Bobby!" Dean breathed the name like a sigh, he hadn't been so grateful to see anyone for a long, long time.
"Holy Hell…" Bobby sighed, his face drawn and his eyebrows pinched together as he set his eyes on Castiel's body. Dean figured he'd kind of got immune to the sheer savagery inflicted on Castiel's body and seeing the usually stoic Bobby Singer looking nauseated and frightened at the sight brought home how awful it was.
"What the Hell, Dean? What happened?" Bobby sounded pained. Sounded as distraught as he would be if it was Sam or Dean himself lying there. Castiel was family now and he'd sacrificed himself like family.
"The spell worked," Dean replied, disgusted at himself for what he had put Castiel through.
"Let's get him onto the couch," Bobby sighed, pulling himself together. Dean was grateful for that strength, both mental and physical, as they moved Castiel to the couch. Dean was gentle as they worked to manoeuvre Castiel out of his trench coat, shirt and tie. More gentle than they needed to be since Castiel was still out of it. Chances are he'd need to sleep for days to recover from that spell anyway, without the beating on top of it. Once they'd got Castiel down to his underwear - and damn Dean was glad that Castiel wore that, Castiel's wounds were finally visible.
He looked more…human, without that big trenchcoat flapping around him. Well, human apart from the huge wing sticking out of his shoulderblade of course.
"How in the hell are we gonna fix that?" Bobby's line of sight followed Dean's to Castiel's mangled wing.
Dean just smiled softly. "Sammy always used to take in little animals when he was a kid. Strays cats and dogs most of the time. But sometimes he'd find birds with broken wings. Used to keep them in a shoebox and tape up their little wings with these splints he made out of pencils or matchsticks. Where is he? He'll know what to do."
"Supply run,"
Dean sighed. "Guess we can make a start on this other stuff till he gets here." It wasn't like they were short of injuries to patch up.
Castiel's feet were probably the only part of him unscathed. One of his ankles was swollen, lightly discoloured, probably twisted or sprained from all those rough landings. His knees were scraped raw, probably from the amount of time he'd spent on his knees. The joints bent okay though. The bruising across the angel's ribs and torso was savage. Dean even saw Bobby flinch away from the sight. He wanted to flinch himself but he forced himself to keep looking. This was his fault. Every bruise, every cut, every broken bone, every- Damnit! Dean hissed out a breath through clenched teeth. Fuck.
"What the hell happened?" Bobby asked, picking up on Dean's anger. Dean just shook his head, focussing on the mess that was Castiel's eye rather than on Bobby's face. Screw it.
"We found a spell," Dean started. Somewhere he recognised how hollow and empty his voice sounded. Some part of him recognised that he was going into shock as he stared blankly at the mess of blood and feathers.
"Turns out Cass is my Guardian angel. Always has been. Ever since I was kid."
Dean heard Bobby take in a breath at that. He figured it was kind of surprising, the idea that Castiel had been watching over him ever since he was a little kid. That Castiel had saved his life hundreds of times before today. But after everything that had happened, Dean couldn't feel anything anymore. Nothing but guilt and self-loathing.
"And it turns out there's certain types of magic, old testament magic, that can only be cast by a guardian angel on their…'charge'." Dean half-heartedly makes the air-quotes, too exhausted even to raise his arms.
"So turns out that if Cass casts this spell, I can't be hurt by…well, anything."
Bobby laughed hollowly at that. "Sweet?" Dean could hear the wariness in his voice. Bobby, unlike him, knew it was too good to be true.
"Yeah. I figured that while I was invincible I'd kick Zachariah's ass and…"
"Save Sammy," Bobby finished. Dean nodded, feeling his bottom lip trembling. That was all he'd wanted to do. Save Sammy. That's all he'd ever wanted to do his whole life. He hadn't meant for…this.
"Turns out, it's not that easy to hurt an Archangel. Even if they can't hurt you." Dean remembered throwing furious punches at Zachariah and hitting only empty air. Even remembered trying to wield Castiel's angel blade and getting nowhere close.
"Well…" Bobby was shaking his head in that 'you idjit' kind of way that only Bobby Singer could pull off. "I coulda told ya that."
"Cass, tried. He tried to tell me how much the spell would hurt him. That I'd still be useless. But I just…I thought with two of us, I was sure. I-"
"What happened?" Bobby didn't give him any sympathy and Dean was glad. He didn't deserve any sympathy. He deserved to be hated.
"Zachariah…beat him bloody, in front of me, and Cass just tried to hold out against him. Think he thought I had some kind of plan, some weapon or spell or something but-"
"But you didn't."
Dean cringes from Bobby's disapproval. "No. Cass got a few hits in but. Fuck. Bobby. He was barely on his feet after that spell, let alone after that asshole battered him from one of the city to the other. If Gabriel didn't show up and take us here then..."
"Gabriel?" Bobby raises his eyebrows, looking away from Castiel and around the room briefly. "You mean that prick actually helped for once?"
Dean shrugged remembering the click of Gabriel's fingers. The smug, cocky attitude of the archangel as he'd stood over Dean and his guardian angel huddled on the highway. And the little glimmer of concern as Gabriel had looked down at Cass and smiled 'You done good little bro.'
"Is he on our side now then?" Bobby asked and Dean shrugged. Did two Winchesters, a retired hunter and a rogue angel count as a 'side'?
"Don't know." But he realised he was shaking his head as he said it.
"Well…" Bobby sighed, pulling himself upright and cricking his neck one side and then the other as he draped Castiel's trench coat over the unconscious angel. "He'll heal. Eventually. Probably. And you need to rest."
"Hm," Dean grunted, rubbing a hand across his face. So damned tired. "You think angels scar?" He asked even though he still didn't get why this was important.
"Damned if I know," Bobby replied. "But he's alive. You're alive. And next time we'll come up with a plan that doesn't involve you two sneaking off getting your asses kicked, sound good?"
Dean looked up at Bobby and smiled then. Only Bobby singer could be standing in his living room with an angel unconscious and bleeding on his coach and still manage to put everything in perspective.
"Yeah." And he's smiling as he replies over the sound of Sammy entering the front door. "Sounds good."
END
AN: Haha, whoops. Might have indulged in my headcanon a bit here. Just wanted to write some action as my current fics are very dialogue heavy and slow paced. Plus you can never have too much Castiel whump! At some point I might come back to this and write a second chapter of Castiel's recovery - Like a Higher than Hell, role reversal. But for now I like it how it is and I need to get back to my other fics. Hope you liked this random oneshot!