Another season 10 coda one shot because I was rewatching it. Some more Cas care for everyone :)

So I'm probably not going to get anything up monday, but I should have another one shot up next friday, and soon I will be posting a speculative hiatus fic :)

The Last Hope of Desperate Men

A Supernatural Fanfic

Sam's heart was in his throat as he threw the truck into park after screeching to a halt in front of the bunker right behind Cas' Continental. He didn't see the Impala, but…maybe Dean had parked her in the garage.

He'd had the helpless tone of Cas' voice ringing in his mind for the last few hours, the helplessness, and the…resignation he'd heard there as Cas had described what had happened to the Stynes. Not that Sam would shed any tears for those sons of bitches, but…if Dean had managed to single-handedly kill them all and in such brutal ways…What would be left of his brother?

He burst through the entrance of the bunker and saw instantly that the inner door had been kicked from its hinges. Sam swallowed hard, pulling out his gun instinctively.

"Dean?" he called cautiously into the silence. "Cas?"

He barely drew breath as he hurried down the stairs through the war room and then glanced toward the library.

He saw a body lying on the stairs to the library first, a man he didn't recognize. It must have been one of the Stynes. His heart began to beat faster as he approached the room with more caution.

Two more bodies became evident, lying near a giant pile of books and his and Dean's belongings in the middle of the library. The stench of gasoline burned his nostrils as he stopped, pressing a hand to his mouth as he took in the bodies.

One was Eldon Styne, bullet between the eyes, and the other was a kid Sam hadn't seen before, same.

It was only then Sam caught sight of another figure out of the corner of his eye and he turned, gun raised to the fourth body.

His heart stopped.

This one was too familiar. A tangle of bloody tan trench coat.

"Oh god, oh god," Sam gasped as he pushed his body forward to collapse on his knees by Cas, images of Charlie lying butchered in that motel room flashing in front of his eyes as the horrifying thought that he could lose someone else right now overwhelmed him.

"Cas," he choked out, reaching out to feel for a pulse in the angel's neck. "Oh god please no."

Cas' face was a complete mess of blood from multiple contusions, and more blood dripped out of the corner of his mouth, as if from internal injuries, and his right wrist was held at an awkward, obviously broken, angle. Not to mention the angel blade stabbed into a book, only inches away from Cas' head.

A surge of relief flew through Sam as the angel jerked, eyes flying open and a wretched gasping inhalation rattled in his chest. The wet sound told Sam where the blood Cas was choking up had come from.

"Cas," Sam cried in relief, reaching out to cup the angel's face between his hands.

"Sam?" Cas gurgled.

"It's okay, just take it easy, we'll get you taken care of," Sam blustered, already reaching under the angel to ease him upright as gently as possible.

"I'm sorry, Sam," Cas said, voice barely a whisper. "I couldn't…I couldn't stop him."

Sam's breath shuddered in his throat. He didn't need to ask the question he already knew the answer to. He knew even the Stynes with their superhuman modifications couldn't have beaten Cas up like this. Dean powered up by the mark though…

Cas cried out as Sam maneuvered him into a sitting position, and curled one arm protectively around his ribs.

Sam just broke. He slumped back to the floor and leaned up against the leg of the table Cas had been lying under. Cas slumped against him, too exhausted and injured to move and Sam clutched the angel's coat in his hands, both to anchor himself and to keep Cas upright.

"Have we lost him, Cas?" Sam whispered. "For good?"

Cas took another wet, shuddering breath and Sam caught the sight of tears in his eyes, mirroring his own. "I don't know," the angel replied. "I truly don't."

They were silent then, huddled close and holding on to each other in their shared grief. Neither of them wanted to get up and have to face the world again just yet. At this point, it seemed pretty pointless anyway.

Sam wasn't sure how long they sat there, but it was long enough for him to realize that Cas wasn't healing the way he should be. And that brought Sam around from his hopeless grief enough to help him move.

"You're hurt really bad," Sam said needlessly, as Cas let out another shuddering breath and attempted to push himself away from Sam without much success.

"I'll heal," the angel told him but it sounded half-hearted.

Sam shook his head and shifted, getting onto his feet before reaching down and trying to get a good grip on Cas where he wouldn't hurt him as much. "Obviously not quickly enough. Let's get you into bed and see what we can do."

Cas didn't have the breath to protest as Sam maneuvered him upright. A pained keen escaped Cas' throat as his broken ribs were jostled. His breath rattled and he choked a little more blood up. Sam felt sick, and steadied the angel who grimly wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Cas…"

"Don't," the angel said quietly. "I am healing, it's just…very slow."
Sam didn't want to ask why. He knew Cas had his grace back, but…maybe because it wasn't all there, it wouldn't heal him as quickly as it should. It didn't matter though, Sam knew it wasn't the psychical wounds that were truly hurting Cas right now. Sam still couldn't believe his brother had done this…

It was a long trek to the dormitory with Cas leaning heavily against Sam. There was no way Sam could keep him upright without putting pressure on his ribs so every step was painful and by the time they got there, Cas practically fell onto the bed, gasping for breath, eyes closed from exhaustion.

Sam slumped down beside him and started to loosen his tie, taking it off and unbuttoning Cas' shirt to see his injuries better. Cas weakly gripped his wrist with his good hand.

"It's okay, Sam, just leave it, I'll…I'll heal soon enough."

Sam set his mouth determinedly. "Cas, look, I just…just let me help you in any way I can. I can't do anything else right now. And maybe you'll heal quicker if I help."

Cas met his eyes then and Sam saw that the angel understood. Knew that Sam was suffering from this nearly as much as he was, knowing that it was Dean who had done it. And since Sam couldn't fix his brother right now, he needed to at least be able to help his best friend.

Cas sagged and relented, slumping back against the pillows. "Very well. I don't know how much you can do, though."

Sam set his mouth in a thin line, and peeled Cas' shirt aside. He winced as he saw the dark pattern of bruises across Cas' stomach, culminating on one side where it was obvious several ribs were badly broken. Sam didn't bother messing with them, he knew bandaging them up would only press the broken ones further into Cas' lungs. The angel was going to have to heal the internal injuries himself. However, Sam could do something about Cas' broken wrist.

"I'm going to see if I can set and splint this at least," Sam told him as he stood up.

He came back after a trip to the infirmary with the supplies he needed, and helped maneuver Cas' coat off of him as gently as possible. After he had pulled Cas' sleeve up to expose the swollen limb, Sam inspected it to feel for the break.

"Okay, this isn't gonna be fun," Sam told he angel.

Cas set his jaw, and Sam, who'd had more experience reducing and setting broken bones that he cared for, set the bone back to its proper position as quickly as possible.

Cas still let out a strangled scream, and then half folded, coughing weakly which resulted in more blood spattering onto his chin and the bedspread.

Sam grabbed a cloth and wiped Cas' mouth, setting a steadying hand on his shoulder as Cas focused on breathing through his nose shallowly, his eyes squeezed shut in agony. Sam felt his throat tighten. He hated seeing Cas this bad off, especially when the angel usually recovered from wounds so quickly.

Sam finished up binding his wrist, and putting it into a brace he had found, before he took up the cloth again and started to clean the blood from the cuts on Cas' face.

By the time he had finished, Cas seemed to be unconscious, breathing shallowly, still with a wet rattle, and looking far too pale for Sam's liking. He bit his lip and put the medical supplies aside, having done all he could for the angel now. He would just have to leave the rest of the healing to Cas, and hope that his friend still had the strength to do it.

Because Sam couldn't go after Dean alone. He just couldn't. If Dean was this far gone, then Sam was going to need someone to help him bring his brother back.

Sam sat on the side of the bed for a long second, taking a deep breath, before he stood and pulled a blanket over Cas.

He then went back to the library even though it was the last place he wanted to be, and with disgust, began to haul the bodies out to burn behind the bunker. The last thing they needed were for these guys to become ghosts and haunt their home.

Once he had finished that, he got a bucket of water and a pair of gloves and began to scrub the blood off the wooden floor.

He'd grown up as a hunter, he had been around blood all his life, and it didn't typically bother him. But on the floor of their home, when these men had violated their privacy, caused Dean to have to give in to his darkness and destroy them, Sam felt like he would vomit as he wrung out the sponge into the bucket.

And then, of course, he cleaned up the blood smeared under the table where he'd found Cas and his stomach finally rebelled.

He threw up into the bucket of bloody water and the smell of the coppery blood only made him heave more. He didn't even have anything in his stomach, having been too busy and worried to eat since probably the day before. He finally stopped and sat back on his heels, eyes streaming with tears as he stripped off the gloves and ran his hands over his face, taking several deep breaths.

He would not accept that he had lost Dean. He would not.

He glanced over to the pile of books and other things that the Stynes had obviously meant to burn before Dean apparently showed up and took them all out. It was going to be hell to clean the gasoline off of all those books.

Something on the edge of the pile caught his eye then. Sam reached out to pull the items from under one of Dean's shirts and found they were old pictures of their mom, and him and Dean as kids, out in front of their old home. Sam felt his eyes well with tears again and his hands shook as he stared at the pictures.

What if they could just be a family again? What if none of this had ever happened at all? Sam had given up wishing for such things a long time ago, had almost been content with the idea of what they were, but now…

And then he realized that family was all they had. Him, Dean and Cas. They were the only thing keeping each other together, and sane in this crazy world full of things that threatened to kill them. And Sam knew then that if nothing else, that was what was going to save Dean in the end. They needed to remind him of what he had.

Sam got off the floor then, tucking the pictures into his shirt pocket and went to empty the filthy bucket before going to the kitchen and heating a can of soup on the stove.

He brought a mug of it with him to Cas' room and saw with relief that the contusions on the angel's face were starting to fade. Cas started as he came into the room, blinking his eyes open and tensing before he realized that it was only Sam.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Sam asked.

Cas furrowed his brow. "I'm healing. More slowly than I would like, but I am healing."

Sam felt some strain go out of his shoulders at Cas' admission and he stepped closer to the bed, holding out the mug of soup.

"Here, I thought some soup might help you. I know you don't need to eat, but you also need your strength right now, and I know you're still not at full power."

Cas gave him a somewhat longsuffering look and then took the soup into his good hand, taking a cautious sip as Sam pulled the desk chair over to the bed and sat down.

"It's good," Cas told him.

Sam smiled slightly. "It's tomato rice. Dean always made it for me when I was feeling under the weather."

They both sobered then before Cas said after a long pause, "We'll get him back, Sam."

"I know," Sam replied softly. "It's just…even if we can figure out how to remove the mark…what if the damage has already been done?"

"Whatever happens, we will bring Dean back," Cas told him assuredly. "Sam, I have seen you two overcome so much, more than I ever could have expected humans could endure, and no matter how dim our prospects might seem now, I know you will bring Dean back."

"No, we will," Sam said, meeting the angel's gaze. "Together. We're family, the three of us. And as long as we can get Dean to remember that…" Sam swallowed hard, at the thought of what had already happened. "Then that's how we're going to save him."

Cas nodded and reached out to touch Sam's forearm, gripping slightly. "Exactly. We will bring him home."

Sam reached down to grip Cas' hand firmly in his own. It might still look dark out there, and they had no idea what was ahead of them, but they knew one thing for certain and that was that they were going to bring Dean home, and make him whole again, and that, if nothing else, was going to keep them going, no matter what happened.