"Sam! SAM!" Dean screamed as he gripped his brother's limp form. "Sam, please wake up!" he choked. Sam still gave no response. His head lolled to the side as Dean shook him. A Stray tear fell down Dean's face. He couldn't lose Sam, not again, and not after all that had happened. His little brother had promised he had seen a light at the end of this hell, and Dean was going to give everything he had to get them both to that light.
"Please," he begged brokenly as he turned to the heavens, "Please, Cas! You're the only one left. I need you!"
Across the country, a man in a tan overcoat stared at the stars, and wept for his family, now merely bright streaks across the dark sky. He finally forced himself to move, but when he did he felt a crippling pain in his right side. He ignored it. Still in shock from his loss of Grace, he stumbled off into a random direction, not particularly caring where he ended up.
It was after a few minutes of this aimless wandering that he heard it. A voice he thought he would never hear again. The one voice that could drive him to do anything: to murder; to lie; to fight; to hope, and it rent his heart in half that he couldn't feel the soul that belonged to it. He wished he could wrap himself in the familiar sound, but now that voice was breaking and crying out to him in despair. He thought the faint voice was nothing but a broken fragment of his mind unraveling.
"Cas, please!"
Castiel whipped around, wincing as it caused the pain in his side to increase. He turned this way and that, frantically scouring the forest for the source of the anguished scream. This voice was real. He could hear it with noise and clarity.
"Cas, I'm begging you!" the gruff voice sobbed.
Castiel fell to his knees, catching himself with his hands, and he was torn asunder. His world turned gray, and he cursed Metatron for this new torture, for this small link left between him and Dean, a tangible thing, yet seemingly unreachable.
"Castiel, it's my baby brother." the voice was begging now.
Castiel tried to block it out. Tried to forget he had ever been to hell, and touched that soul, and come to known those two brothers whom he loved dearly.
The fallen man didn't know how long he laid there, curled in on himself, but at last the begging and crying faded to silence. Castiel opened his eyes and sat up, straining to hear even the faintest whisper. A worrying silence followed, until Castiel looked to the heavens and decided to take one last leap of faith. He took a deep breath, and with all his being he breathed one word.
"Dean."
The hunter, the brother, the Righteous Man, the loyal son, Dean Winchester lifted his head in answer.
"Cas," he gasped.
Castiel cried out in wonder, and a thousand hallelujahs fell from his lips. Dean had heard him. Dean had heard him and had reached back.
Castiel had been heard.
Dean cradled his brother closer as Castiel's feelings of calm wonder washed over him, and suddenly he saw it too.
He saw the light at the end of the tunnel, just as Sam had promised. Hope came back to him, and he knew that Sam would be alright. As long as Dean was there, Sam would always be alright.
"He'll be okay, Cas," Dean comforted as he rested his head against the Impala. "We'll both be okay."
Castiel smiled and moved to rest with his back against a tree. As the world around him returned to his focus, he began to notice the piercing hot pain in his side. He looked down and saw red blooming on his overcoat not unlike the exotic flowers he had observed as an angel. He stared at it in wonderment, until another spike of pain cruelly brought him back. He careful pulled back his coat to assess to damage and inhaled sharply as the coat brought some skin and dried blood along with it.
"Cas, you okay?" Dean panicked as pained breathing became the only sound from Cas' side.
"Dean, I- I must of been injured when I fell," Castiel explained slowly. Dean felt fear rush through him.
"Fell? Cas, you fell like the other angels? Are you okay?" Dean inquired worriedly.
"Yes, Dean, I think- I'm fine, Dean," Cas insisted. Dean sighed.
"What happened?" Dean asked quietly. "You don't have to say if-" he began when Castiel remained silent.
"No. It's alright," Castiel persisted, "Metatron used my Grace for a spell to cast out all the angels from Heaven."
"Well, shit, Cas," Dean swore angrily, "Naomi was fucking right, wasn't she. Maybe we could find her to help us fix-"
"She's dead," Castiel interrupted wearily. Dean remained silent for a moment. Then with a resigned sigh, he maneuvered his brother to a more manageable position to haul him into the Impala.
"I'm sorry, Cas," he sympathized, "Hold on, let me get Sam into the car and then we'll figure this out."
Castiel listened to Dean's labored breathing and soft curses, and closed his eyes to stop the prickle of tears. He hadn't told Dean how bad it really was. He couldn't tell Dean.
Blinking furiously to stop the already falling tears, Castiel looked down at the hand pressed against his side and watched the blood oozing from the cracks between his fingers. His head already begun to feel dizzy and a sheen of sweat covered him. He quickly curled his other hand into a fist and bit down, but a small whimper escaped before he could stop it.
Dean was pulling the car out of the church lot when he heard the pitiful sound.
"Cas," he called, as he looked up out of habit, "What's wrong?"
The world was becoming a blur of light, dark, dulled colors, and muffled sound. He heard his name and latched onto it like driftwood in a shipwreck. He knew he was stupid for putting this off, but he can't do anything for the wound now, and it will cost him dearly. He vaguely wondered if he should just give up, he certainly deserves worse than this.
"Cas! Answer me!"
The shout jolted Castiel to his core, and eyes that he doesn't remember closing flew open and he picked himself up from the laid out position he doesn't recall falling into.
"I think I'm dying," he blurted out in a daze. Blood loss is a bitch, he thought bitterly as he sluggishly tried to warm his sweaty, pale skin. He can't seem to control his breathing, and he felt restless, he almost missed Dean's next words.
"Where are you, I'm getting you help right now," Dean declared urgently.
Castiel moved his head to look around, but it's more of a flopping movement.
"I see... A lot of moose," he slurred sullenly, "There's not exactly a big sign, Dean."
Dean bit back a scathing comment that he knows he would regret, and tried to concentrate both on driving and a way to figure out where Cas was. If only Sam was awake, no doubt he'd think of a genius plan.
"Alright moose," Dean thought aloud, "Moose. Moose... Moose live mostly in Canada, right?" Cas sighed dejectedly.
"Fuck, I don't know," Cas snapped bitterly. Dean barked a laugh.
"Never heard an angel swear before," he teased in a half hearted attempt to stop the fear pounding in his heart.
"Hardly an angel," Cas muttered brokenly.
"You'll always be an angel," Dean responded without thinking.
Castiel smiled, and fuck does that hurt. He took a moment trying to get his body to move, and when it does he jerkily clawed his way across the forest floor. No good would come of just sitting there.
"You okay, Cas?" Dean fretted at the pained sounds coming from Castiel.
"I'm- I'm trying to find something more helpful," he panted. He was blindly crawling or swimming over a huge pile of dead leaves when the next hand he put his weight onto met nothing but air and sent Castiel sliding and tumbling down a hill. He let out screams of agony as branches whipped him, and rocks dug into his human skin. At the bottom of the hill, he slammed into cold asphalt so fast, air is knocked out of his lungs, and it has him spitting up and gagging on blood.
"God, please," he begged when he finally caught his breath. Tears spilled onto his cheek as he lay shaking on an empty street, crying out to an absent father.
Dean trembled in fear, a million words stuck in his throat. He had no idea what had happened, but if Castiel was crying it at least meant he was still alive. He opened his mouth, but the hospital's large frame appearing from behind the surrounding buildings, distracted him. He accelerated to as fast as he could safely go.
"Cas. Calm down, Cas. Deep breath. I don't know what happened, but I'm at a hospital, and I'm about to take Sam in," he began to explain waiting a minute for Cas' sobbing to stop and his breathing to turn into deeper shaky breaths." I won't be able to talk, but keep talking to me, okay? What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?"
He pulled into the emergency lane and jumped out. A paramedic ran out to meet him.
"My brother. I don't know what's wrong," he declared frantically. The medic tried to keep him calm as other medics gently set Sam on a gurney and rushed him inside.
The medic was in the middle of asking him questions when Cas' deep voice returned to his head.
"Fell down a hill," he murmured, embarrassed. "It hurt," he adds in childlike wonder, "And I couldn't seem to stop crying, but now at least I found a road."
Dean felt hope at that statement. He also felt torn between following wherever they took Sam and never leaving his brother's side, or finding a quiet place to help Cas. He stared after Sam's retreating form as nurses and doctor's rushed him down the hallway, evaluating the number of the people between him and Sam, and wondering if he could fight through them in his tired state. The medic that first ran out to him put her hand on his arm as if she sensed his intention, and quietly assured them that they would do everything they could. Dean reluctantly conceded that she was right, and he would be more of a hindrance than a help. He shook her off and set off outside to find a quiet place and help the one person he could.
"Cas, can you stand?" he asked as soon as he got outside.
Castiel had been lying on the road wallowing in pain and waiting for help from Dean. At the new request, he slowly pushed himself up from the ground, a whine escaping his throat as he did, and managed to maneuver to a slumped standing position.
"Explain what you see," Dean commanded. Castiel looked around.
"The road stretches on straight to me right and it curves around a bend on my left. No other signs or markers," he reported. Dean sighed.
"Wait-" Castiel exclaimed, "There's some sort of marker to my left. It's just around the bend let me-"
Suddenly he was cut off by a deep rumble and the sound of rubber on asphalt when blinding headlights veered around the curve and straight towards him. Castiel's eyes widened in fear, and a scream caught in his throat, but his body wouldn't respond. He stood rooted to the spot. The driver jolted in surprise at seeing him and slammed on the brakes, trying to swerve and miss him. The car nipped his good side and sent him flying face first into the ground. The car screeched to a halt.
"Cas?"
Castiel couldn't answer Dean around the blood in his mouth. The car door slammed and he looked up to see a woman hurrying toward him.
"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, "Are you okay? Are you alive?"
Castiel pushed himself up on his hands and spit out, more blood.
"Help me please," he pleaded before passing out.
