Downfall
A/N: Spoilers! for Season 8x23 Finale
Summary: (Supposedly set minutes after final scene if Dean finds Castiel)
I'm not good at coming up with titles, but I picked Downfall because I always thought the lyrics to Downfall by Matchbox Twenty fit Destiel. I'm not much of a writer, so sorry if it's bad, but if you do enjoy it, then thank you!
Once Sam's coughing fit calmed down and the younger man assured him he was fine, Dean left him with the demon blade in the Impala. He was definitely reluctant to leave his clearly more affected and unwell brother again, but something was telling him Cas was nearby.
He decided to walk and search the area, yelling Castiel's name among the dark, trees and bushes. If he did not find the angel soon, he would go back to Sam because after all, he was running on a gut feeling and Sammy was...vulnerable.
Dean's eyes widened at the immediate site of the familiar figure and trench coat. "Cas!"
He ran toward him, closing their distance and getting within arm's reach. "Cas-"
Castiel interrupted the hunter's words. "Sam. How is Sam?"
His mouth opened slightly.
"What?"
In the middle of the forest, he had found his friend on his knees and looking down. His first reaction was to ask Cas if he was alright, but the mention of Sammy's well being caught him off guard.
Dean had knelt down to speak to him, but Cas only continued to stare blankly, but deeply into the palms of his own hands.
His gaze seemed to pierce through the thick layers of Jim Novak's skin, beyond the blood and bone, and peer into the dirt covered ground.
He looked as if he was pleading with the earth for answers, instead of raising his gaze upward to the empty, now dark sky.
His hand found Castiel's shoulder and he gripped the side of it gently, but firmly.
"I stopped him...He's in one piece, Cas."
Dean's brow furrowed. He was unsure who was in more pain right now, his little brother or the man kneeling before him.
Down on one knee, Dean tilted his head, his eyes trying to meet familiar blue ones.
Cas spoke, but his words only met the ground.
"You...are not hurt."
The hunter froze, inhaling sharply, as if that one statement had triggered his heart and all of his body's movements to stop, including the flow of air to his lungs.
Castiel had said the words not as a question but as a statement. He couldn't breathe, too many thoughts had flooded Dean's brain.
Cas could've meant this as a physical observation by not seeing any injuries on him, or maybe he sensed it with his powers because maybe Cas got out before the angels fell...but maybe, he just really needed to know some of his family was still fine...still there.
Dean looked to the ground briefly, mirroring the man's actions in front of him.
Dean really was hurt, Sam had almost died, willingly.
His little brother's confession and his own pain and guilt felt like a thick, heavy anchor and he could only stay afloat for so long, before succumbing to its weight.
However, he took a deep breath and exhaled.
He pat Castiel's shoulder and smiled reassuringly, giving him the same look he had given Sammy moments ago.
"Yeah, I'm not hurt."
The shorter man finally looked up at him, tears now escaping from his blue eyes.
He spoke through the tears and tilted his head as his lips formed a small, relieved, but heartbreaking smile.
"That's good."
His voice was hoarse, seeming as if his throat had been dry for many years and he was now shakily speaking for the first time.
"Dean, I-I can't heal you anymore."