hello, fellow SPN fans, it's nice to finally meet you guys.
this is my first SPN fanfic, so be nice to me - that means that characters IC would be rare, because i'm really bad at doing them IC, so forgive me.
no pairs, just brothers in need of support. Dean's a damsel in distress (his words, not mine) and Castiel an angel helping a sick friend.
enjoy, bitches and jerks ;p
Goodbye Cas
Dean climbed the tree hastily and looked down to see the Wendigo he had been avoiding pass through, not looking up where the man clung to the branch. Dean sighed in relief, and groaned when he pushed himself up and nestled in a dip between the branches, holding his bleeding side.
"Damn it," his voice was hoarse from lack of use, but in this world of unnatural silence, he needed to say something before the words would kill him as they crawl outside and fill the void in his ears.
He shifted his position and relaxed into the hiding, sighing in exasperation as he felt more light headed than before.
Shit, he was losing too much blood. But he shook his head and laughed miserably, he was already 'dead'. If purgatory was a place of dead monsters he had already ganged, so technically he was 'dead' and could not die again. Damn, he really hated when he was right about those matters.
He felt himself going sleepy and braced himself for doing his small ritual before sleep or whenever it was evening, if he could call the always lit skies 'night'. He had lost sense of time a long time ago.
He removed his hand from his side and clasped both of his palms together, "Dear stupid angel of Thursday, Castiel... no, hello Cas..."
Only a growl from far away answered his uncalled hope and he cursed again before continuing, more silent than before.
"Cas... it can't go like that anymore. Where are you, man? I'm not angry at you... not anymore, although I'm still pissed at you ditching my ass out there with all the other 'neighbors'. Nice people by the way, although really rough on the edges. But oh well, you can't really blame them, eating shitty people all their lives or deaths, whatever you call it."
He sighed and grimaced, "I don't think I'm going to last any longer, you see." He saw black spots in his vision and he blinked, trying to chase them away. "I'm tired, man. I really just want to go home, to Sammy, to Bobby. Hell, I could even go to heaven, even if your assholes for siblings are there and aren't going to be peachy to see me."
He took a deep breath and a tear rolled for the first time since he was trapped in Purgatory down his cheek and a clear trail showed his skin under all the mud and grime.
"Thank you, Cas. I never got the 'occasion' as you called it, to tell you that. I'm so fucking sorry for being a dick to ya. I guess I do deserve being stuck here alright," he chuckled, but winched when he moved his body too much.
"I guess I will now know how it feels to die in the monsters' dump, great for me."
He took a deep breathe and closed his eyes, falling into a fitful sleep.
"Goodbye, Castiel."
Castiel sat on the root sprouting from the ground by the lake and felt a warm prickling emotion fill him as he felt Dean's prayer being sang to him. But when he actually heard the words, his eyes snapped open in hidden fear and he stood up.
'I don't think I'm going to last any longer.'
What happened to him? He can't give up now, he's the righteous man. He had never given up... he stopped and clenched his fists,
oh right...
'I can't do this anymore, Cas. This is too much...' – he did... after he told him about his mission to stop the apocalypse.
Well... he can't do it to him again! he can't give up now. It is Castiel's fault for bringing Dean here after all Castiel had done to him.
'I'm not angry at you.'
Well, I'm angry at myself.
'Goodbye, Castiel'
Don't you dare die on me, Dean, I'm coming.
Castiel was happy he still could use his restricted grace and wings to transfer to where Dean was. The bond between them helped him because of the sigils he carved into the man's ribs had hidden his charge from him. He cursed when he thought about that inconvenience he created for himself. He took flight, disappearing in a flip of wings from the lake.
He stopped next to the unknown tree where Dean was curled into a ball in the small dip up the enormous thing. Castiel crouched next to him and brushed his fingers over the sweaty forehead, where bloody hair was sticking to and hiding his gash.
Castiel grimaced and cursed himself for the thousandth time that the only useful thing he really needed was restrained, his healing abilities.
His eyes trailed down the messy and tore clothes until they locked into a huge slash on his side. His eyes snapped up and he suddenly noticed how pale Dean was and how hot his body felt.
Castiel lifted Dean gingerly and flew to the lake, where he laid the man on the root he sat on before and ripped a piece from his shirt. He rushed to the lake and dampened the cloth and placed it on the burning forehead – a long time ago, he had watched one show showing a woman taking care of a sick child and he had never felt gladder that he paid attention to that show although Dean had teased him throughout the whole scene.
Dean's groan made him jump slightly and he cupped his head, checking his head injury. He tore another stripe of his shirt and slowly bandaged his head, mumbling some blessing in Enochian.
He was about to use Dean's shirt to bandage his slash when he felt a familiar deadly presence behind him. He turned to see two black smoke pools form before him, towering up to become two males with frowns. Leviathans.
"Castiel..." the left one snarled.
"Hello, Mell," he charged at them.
He slumped down next to the still unconscious man, breathing a bit short, but a small smile adorning his face. He managed to protect Dean, and he is still alive, although still very sick.
The thought made him stand up and lean over to the sandy haired man. The cloth had dried and he quickly wet it again, and the slash was still unattended, already bleeding fresh anew.
He quickly took off Dean's shirt and ripped it to strips and wrapped them around his torso. He knew that Dean needed stitches, but he had nothing to stitch them with.
Once again, he cursed his inability to heal Dean.
For the next few days, Castiel looked around to find herbs that could help Dean. He had found some herbs that his father has in his garden, and was joyous when they had turned up to be medical herbs for sickness and injuries. Perhaps his father knew that one day, humans would come to this place and would need them, or maybe... he knew that Dean needed them.
He stuck some blood absorbing leaves in Dean's bandages and sewed some injuries closing vines in Dean's injury. He put some cool leaves on his forehead and used moss to clean Dean up and restore some humanity to the fragile being before him.
Several times he had to fend off monsters and Leviathans, even those that Dean and Sam had fended off on earth, but most of the time he was left alone and he relished in that.
Dean's fever has finally broken and the color started coming back to his face. But after a day, the first nightmare came.
Screams ripped through the unofficial night as Castiel had almost thought that his grace had evaporated in horror. He had to hold Dean as he thrashed around, and had almost chocked Dean as he tried to stop him screaming in fear that the monsters would come running to hunt them and he wouldn't be able to fight them off because Dean needed him right now.
At last, he had to knock Dean off to dreamless sleep in fear of the thrashing hurting him any further and sighed in relief when the man slumped down, his face turning blank.
This has gone for a few more days and Castiel was truly scared for his friend. He was worried that his comrade was getting worse and would end up dead or something like that, seeing they were in Purgatory already.
That night, he prayed for his father for the first time since he got there.
"Hello, father. I know I should have talked to you before, although you're still missing, but I really need your help. I don't know what to do, father. Dean is sick and I don't wherever he is getting better or worse. I thought that he had become better, but now he has nightmares and from what I observed from humanity, it means that he is getting worse. Please help me, father."
He felt cool dampness on his cheeks and he brushed them with his fingers and watched fascinated at the droplets of water between his fingers. So this is why humans cry, he bit his lip, feeling his throat knot itself painfully.
He buried his face in his palms, why do I feel so hopeless now? Dean is still alive and I'm sure my father had heard and would do something about it. He felt sarcastic.
Dean made a small noise and Castiel snapped his head up to see Dean groaning and starting to open his eyes...
"No!" on impulse he pressed two fingers to his forehead and Dean fell unconscious again.
Castiel looked at his hand in shock, what did I do? I knocked him out...
He clenched his coat, he can't have him wake up yet and hurt himself even further, he tried to reason with himself. But moreover, he can't stay next to him. Although he had managed to fend off everyone, he doesn't know when his guard will be down and something will get to Dean. He can't have it, not after everything the man had been through already, and most of it because of him...
He sighed and slumped back next to the man's sleeping form, holding his head between his hands and knees, curling into a ball.
The gashes had healed pretty well, and Castiel was glad that nothing worse had happened because of them. Dean was looking better, his face peaceful and his body's temperature stayed normal.
He thought of returning him back to the tree when a flock of growls was heard behind him and he turned to see a group of different monsters being led by a Leviathan.
"Hello there, Castiel," the Leviathan smirked. "Heard your pretty boy was getting better, thought I would come here to visit and wish him a get well."
Castiel frowned, he really didn't want to deal with them, "Roman Dick."
The man smirked and said with an amused voice, "Happy you still remember me. That boy has been looking for you all the time, you knew that?"
Of course he knew that. He knew of the 'human' looking for 'the angel', hunting every creature that could speak to tell him about his location. A pang of guilt hit him hard, it was his fault that Dean had gotten hurt.
His face must have made a bad reaction because Dick laughed, "Right on your buttons, Castiel? I know you pretty well. After all, i had been residing in you for a while."
"Shut up," Castiel growled. He have to get Dean to a safe place, he can't let him get hurt, not again.
"Still wishing to be punished because you think that this way it'll fix everything?"
'So fix it!' Dean's voice echoed in his head.
"Shut up," the growl became more animalistic.
"Why? After all, you had tried to kill your charge, your dear human."
"Shut up!" he shouted, shaking in rage.
"And you ruined heaven because you were too selfish to realize that the apocalypse is better than those dogs."
"Don't talk about them like that!" Castiel had to restrain himself from lounging at the Leviathan, knowing that this is what the creature wants him to do.
"So why won't you prove me wrong?" Dick crossed his arms smugly.
Castiel was about to response when he felt something vanish from behind him and turned around to see that Dean was gone. He whipped back to see another Leviathan holding the unconscious Dean.
"Let go of him!" the angel roared and all logic flew out of the window as he lounged at Dick, shining in his true form.
Dick's smug face faded a bit to a worried gaze, he had thought that the angel was restrained in Purgatory, but it seems that whenever his charge was concerned, he would be able to tap into his grace.
He avoided a slash of the angel sword, but the grace managed to cut him into the hand. He growled and held his hand and watched the angel approaching him. He looked so much like an animal right now. Fortunately for him, angels' true form doesn't hurt Leviathan's eyes. He glanced at the monster group behind him and wasn't surprised to see them completely demolished. But he decided that it wouldn't be a good idea to fight him today. He was good at strategics, so he knew it wasn't a good idea even though he probably was stronger than him.
He motioned to the Leviathan to put Dean down, smirking when his lackey had placed the man with an addition of a few bites before taking off.
When the duo had disappeared, Castiel fell on his knees, all adrenaline or grace, he didn't knew what, rushing out and making him feel weak.
He knew it was a stupid move, but he was so angry and they had Dean- Dean!
The angel looked up to see Dean lying in a pool of blood forming around him and rushed to him. He saw that chunks of flesh were gone from his shoulders and side, where the slash was.
He cursed and felt his anger bubbling in him again. He squeezed his eyes tight praying with all his might that the bit of the grace that he had wanted to use could heal Dean because Dean is going to die because he was too weak, again.
His grace started pulsing and he felt his wings unconsciously warping themselves around Dean. He felt the heat and the wetness of the thick blood soaking into his feathers, but he didn't indulge himself in it, just concentrating in the pulsing feeling he had from his grace.
Slowly, his wings glowed stronger and he reached out to grab Dean into a tight hug, wishing that his grace will be able to heal him.
His wings pulsed stronger as he started glowing himself, turning to his true form. Dean's soul gave a sigh of relief at the intensity of the grace, like he did when he had raised him from perdition. Castiel smiled sadly at the memory and held tighter, willing his grace to heal Dean's injuries.
After what it seemed to be hours, he felt that Dean was enough healed for him to return his grace and collapsed on the ground, dragging Dean with him and had blacked out.
When he opened his eyes, concerned green eyes looked into his blue eyes with a flicker of anger behind them. Had he done something wrong?
"You idiot," Dean sighed as he shifted Castiel in his embrace. Castiel noticed that Dean was sitting cross legged with him curled in his arms, like a mother holding her child in a protective way.
"You okay, man?" Dean frowned at him.
"Where am I?" his voice was hoarser than usual, which meant a lot. "How do you feel, Dean?"
Dean smiled in a relived way and helped the angel on his feet, "Well... we're next to a lake, I guess. And I feel fine, Cas. What about you? You look like crap."
"I'm fine, Dean," he stumbled on his legs. His grace was weakly pulsing inside of him, he was restrained again.
"You sure?"
"Yes, Dean."
Dean didn't look convinced, but he let him rest on the tree's root and gaze away. He sat next to the angel and sighed.
"You did something to me, didn't ya?"
"What give it away?" Castiel smiled wearily at him.
"My shoulder's mark is pulsing, like it did when I came out of the grave," Dean shrugged.
Castiel looked at him, a bit surprised, "It did?"
Dean frowned, "Sorry if it was supposed to be top secret or something. We don't really tell everything like two chicks on a slumber party."
Castiel frowned as well, "Why must you make everything more difficult?"
The man smirked, "I was born like that, so shove it. Now tell me, Cas, what did you do to me?"
"I used my grace to heal you," he couldn't really lie anyway, but he didn't tell the whole truth.
"And?" Dean pushed, positively pissed.
"And?" Castiel blinked, confused.
"Do you really think I would fall for your half-truths?" Dean growled. "I didn't know you had such a low opinion of me."
"I don't, Dean-"
"Then what?!" Dean stood up and shook the angel. "You did something to yourself during that 'healing', right? And don't you fucking dare lie to me, Castiel! I was the one to wake up with you unconscious on top of me!"
Said man blanched, when Dean used his whole name...
"I don't know, I don't know what happened to me when I had healed you," he looked into the flaming green eyes, trying to convey his sincerity.
It seemed to have worked, because Dean sighed and slumped on his knees, bringing the angel's head to his shoulder.
"You're an idiotic angel, you know that?" Dean chuckled. "You do so much for me, knowing I can't do a fucking thing to repay you back. It's like I'm a damn damsel in distress, and I don't do this gig." He sighed, "How messed up is that?"
Castiel patted his back, not knowing how to comfort the man before him, "You did so much for me as well, Dean. And you're... my family, and according to the Winchester family... you'd anything for the family, correct?"
Dean laughed, "You right about that one, Cas."
Castiel smiled and wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders... his family... it sounded nice.
Dean smiled softly and hugged the angel back, "Don't worry, Cas. We'll make it outta here and then you can get back your angel mojo and I can go back hunting with Sammy."
Castiel stiffened a bit, he still didn't tell Dean that he plans in staying in Purgatory.
Dean sensed it and clutched him tighter, "You are getting outta here, Cas. No complaining, got it?"
Castiel sighed and smiled into the broad shoulder, "Yes, Dean. I 'got' that."
"Good."
They stayed in that position for a while until Dean blurted, "And you so owe me burgers and pie when we get back. It's your fault for making me do this stupid chick-flick moment."
Castiel chuckled, "I owe you, Dean."
Dean chuckled, but a roar alerted them and they stood up to face a group of werewolves. Dean took out his stolen sword and Castiel followed, taking his angel sword out.
"What do you say we kick some monsters' asses while we get outta here?" Dean smirked at Castiel. The angel smiled back and nodded, "Sounds good."
"Alright~!" Dean charged.
Castiel shook his head and charged as well.
Maybe... maybe he can be forgiven. Maybe he can go out of Purgatory with Dean.
End.
aaaaaand that's it for now, Mishamigos. i hope that you liked the story and that i did the characters in character, i'm really bad at doing Dean's way of speech.
please tell me if i did any kind of mistakes except for plot wise, it's half AU after all.
see ya, bitches,
IlanitaliaXD.
