Far From Hope
Prologue
Disclaimer - Supernatural isn't bmine,I'm just having a bit of 'fun' with the characters before putting them back unharmed.
Warnings - Suicidal thoughts/attepts, may be triggering, will need tissues (most likely)
"Cas! Cas buddy, where are you?" Dean called out to the empty, quiet night. The angels had long stopped falling, Dean had other things on his mind though. While Sammy was hurt, there was little that could stop Dean from helping him. The nearly unconscious Sam was lying in his arms. Dean had no idea what had happened, let alone how to fix him. "Cas! Please…Sam's hurt! I need your help." He waited, but there was no faint flutter of wings, no rough voice to offer reassurance. Nothing.
He was completely alone.
As carefully as possible Dean pulled the almost unconscious Sam into a standing position (or the best they could manage anyway, for the height difference made carrying him not an option) and helped him into the run down building. "Come on Sammy, we're nearly there," Dean muttered thankfully.
Once inside, with the door closed behind them, Dean found somewhere for Sam to lie down. With not many places to be found, Dean eventually chose the least hard looking bit of floor board, and helped Sam to sit down. Dean then shrugged off his jacket, unbeknownst to the unresponsive Sam, and folded it into a pillow. Dean hardly had time to catch Sam's head and rest it on the makeshift pillow, as he slumped to the side, eyes closed.
Satisfied that Sam was as comfy as possible, Dean stood, and without really thinking, he began to pace. Every few moments, sparing a worried glance towards his brother.
O O O
Dean had no idea how long it was before he heard someone pounding at the door. He stopped his pacing with a frown, who the hell would be knocking on that door at that time in the morning?
Checking his hand gun was loaded, Dean walked slowly to the door, "who is it?" he asked hesitantly.
"It's me," came the familiarly deep voice, "it's me, Cas, let me in Dean."
"Cas?"
"Yes Dean?" Came the voice, sounding half broken, half annoyed.
Dean pulled open the door, "Where the hell have you been? I needed you Cas! And why did you use the door anyway? You could have 'angeled' yourself down right next to Sam's bed if you wanted to!" Dean paused, giving the angel a once over. If anything, the angel looked tired, worried, and stressed, definitely not his usual self. "Cas?" He asked again.
"I would have come Dean, when you called." Cas sighed, his eyes looked glassy as he spoke again, his voice deep and close to breaking, "I would have, if I could hear you. If I could have 'angeled' myself over here, I would have."
"Cas what do you mean?"
"I didn't know if you would still be here. I guessed." He stared back down the road, "I took a bus and walked."
"Cut the crap Cas!" Dean growled, "what is it!?"
"I've fallen Dean, fallen from grace." The man looked close to tears, "I'm human."
"Oh," was all Dean could manage. He stared at Cas, and now he knew why he looked so tired, so broken. Cas wasn't Cas anymore, angel Cas anyway. Dean, had no clue what to say, so he did the only thing he knew would tell Cas he was still accepted. That not all was lost.
He pulled him into a hug.