They'd never known that Cas was scared of water.
Dean wouldn't have even guessed, but hey, he didn't know much about anything, apparently.
Cas staying in the bunker was a lot better than Dean had previously thought it would be. Despite his unnerving stares and awkward comments, it was nice to have another presence in the bunker. The angel was good company, and (he hated to admit it) Dean would feel a little lost without him. He should probably investigate why that was at some point.
There was always a catch to a good deal, however. And this time, the catch was something that Dean was too ignorant to notice.
It started out small. Like most things.
Cas' showers never lasted more than two minutes tops – despite his comment about the water pressure he didn't like to stick around to enjoy it for long. Every time a storm passed over the bunker, he'd disappear to his room, only to come out at least ten minutes after the weather had passed. The brothers hadn't thought much of it – it was just Cas, adjusting to becoming human. They were 'normal' things. Things that no-one paid any heed to.
Dean was a moron. Didn't read the signs. It never occurred to him whatsoever.
For the next two weeks, life had been easy-going (for them, anyway). Cas was a little quiet and skittish, while Sam was a bit fidgety, but all was fine. Aside from when a hunt cropped up in Crawford.
Immediately, Sam had leapt at the chance to get out of the bunker. He was sick of reading through volumes upon volumes of thick dusty books. He wanted to get out - "Get back to the job again." was what he'd said. To get his head straight.
But that just couldn't happen. Sam was safe in the bunker - safe and recovering and Dean needed to keep it that way. He was in control of the situation and he didn't want to relinquish that control anytime soon.
So he'd taken Cas with him instead. After a ton of bitchfitting and such, he'd finally managed to convince Sam that it'd be better for all of them if Cas came instead. He still doesn't know how he did it, but it worked so he wasn't complaining.
The drive to Crawford should've taken at least an hour and a half, but Dean's speeding was commonplace when driving the Impala, so the time was halved. It was a miracle he didn't crash - he trusted that car more than his own kin sometimes.
Cas was sat quietly in the passenger seat, his gaze solid as he stared out at the scenery while it flashed by. Dean ran his eyes up and down the angel, noticing how worn his clothes were. He was a lot smaller without the trenchcoat, and his scruff wasn't quite as neat as it used to be. It wasn't just the clothes that were odd though - there was something else. Something... lacking. His presence didn't feel as it had. Ever since he'd come back there'd been something a little different about him.
The full-on, angelic, smiting Cas seemed to fill up a room whenever he'd entered one. The air seemed to crackle and the hairs on the back of Dean's neck stood on end almost every time.
But human Cas was less intimidating, and more... hell, there wasn't even a word to express it.
He was kind of worried.
"You're staring."
Dean blinked.
"What?"
Cas faced him, "You're staring at me."
"Of course I'm staring at you," Dean recovered quickly, his eyes turning back to the road. It was really surprising he hadn't crashed yet, "You haven't said anything since we got in the car. You've barely said anything since you started staying with us."
Cas blinked, chewing on the words forming in his mouth.
"Adjusting had been... difficult. Being human is very strange." He finished cryptically.
"Which is why we wanna help," Dean persisted, "We're kinda the living articles - we could teach you a thing or two about being one of the 'mud-monkeys'." Dean prompted helpfully, but Cas didn't say anything further
Dean could only hope that he'd quit the clamming up at some point.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
"And you're sure that they aren't angel related?"
"Pretty sure yeah," Dean spoke into the phone as he sat at the table in his and Cas' motel room. He'd left Cas there while he'd gone undercover to investigate the victims - the angel couldn't lie to save his life, "The victims were burnt, but not from the inside out. And their eyes were still there - toasted, but they were there."
"Sounds like an elemental."
"A what?"
"A nymph type creature," Cas interrupted from the bed he was sat on. He stood, coming to join Dean around the phone. The hunter tried to ignore the warmth of the angel's arm as it nudged his shoulder, "They're basic spirits that defend their territory. They-"
"-control certain elements, yeah." Sam finished from the speaker, "Someone's probably going places they shouldn't and pissing this thing off."
"How do we kill it?" Dean asked, getting to the important part. Who cared what it was? He just wanted to stop it from hurting people.
"Should be easy enough. Just attack it with its opposite element. And considering this thing's burning people, we know it's a fire elemental, so-"
"We dump it in a lake." And though Dean didn't see it, a look of panic fluttered across Cas' face. Oblivious, Dean continued, "Right. Got it. Hey Sam?"
Sam paused before hanging up, "Yeah?"
"You okay?" Dean asked tentatively, listening out for any odd pauses, "Kevin and Crowley all good?"
"We're fine Dean. See you when you get back."
There was a shuffle before the line clicked and went dead. Dean sighed. Sam was still pissed at him. It wasn't that hard to figure out. One day, Sam wouldn't be mad at him for something. One day.
He cast a glance at Cas, wondering why the angel was so silent, doing a double-take when he realised how wide-eyed he'd become. He raised an eyebrow.
"Cas?" He said quietly, "You okay?"
As if snapping out of a stupor, Cas nodded hurriedly, before walking away to disappear off into the bathroom. Dean stared after him.
He should've known.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Sam had suggested to lure the creature out by invading its territory again - it was dangerous, but there wasn't another option.
They'd figured out the victims had all been managers of Whit & Co, a logging company that was gradually ploughing down the remains of a small forest on the very edge of Crawford. Every guy that took the previous manager's place would turn up, roasted and dead the next day. The link wasn't that hard to make.
Now it was just down to catching the damn thing.
It was late at night when the Impala trundled through the forest, winding smoothly up the dirt road carved by the massive wheels of logger trucks in the previous weeks. The engine cut after Dean pulled the break, halting when the road opened out into a wide clearing. Roughly chopped tree stumps stood miserably in the dirt, dotted across the ground like the bodies of fallen soldiers, and a glistening lake was sat just fifty feet away, long wooden jetty protruding far out into the water. Moonlight danced across the glassy surface, reflecting a perfectly still image of the half moon on it. Kind of pretty if you stopped long enough to look at it.
Dean leant back in his seat, the leather creaking as he thought through what their next steps might be.
"Maybe if we start pulling out weeds, right Cas?" He joked, turning to face the angel. His grin dropped almost immediately when he noticed. Finally noticed.
The angel was breathing heavy, his eyes wide and terrified as they fixated upon the lake. His jaw was clenched, knuckles going white as they gripped his thighs.
"Whoa, Cas," Dean grabbed the other's shoulder, brow furrowing. Way to scare the shit out of him, "Cas, look at me."
The angel snapped around like he'd just been electrocuted. His eyes switched down to Dean's hand, then back to his face, repeating the action at least three times.
"What's wrong?" Dean questioned cautiously. Cas' frown deepened, his eyes wide and terrified.
"I..." He licked his lips, "I don't know."
He gazed back out at the lake. Shivered. Forced his gaze away again.
"I just know that I don't want to go near the lake."
Confused, Dean caught the angel's gaze, a little shocked to find genuine fear in those orbs. Fear and blazing panic; like an animal trapped in a cage.
Abruptly, a thought struck him.
"You aren't..." He paused, worry increasing when he saw another shiver wrack the angel's body, "You aren't... scared of water, are you Cas?"
Cas bit the inside of his cheek, eyes darting about nervously. Oh shit. He hated it when he was right.
"As I recall, my last encounter with copious amounts of water didn't do me many favours."
Unwanted, the memory of Cas disappearing beneath the rippling surface of the dark, unforgiving reservoir wormed it's way into Dean's head. The feel of the damp trenchcoat between his fingers was too vivid for his liking. He tried to ignore it.
"Well, you won't be going in the water." Dean promised instantly, "You just kick the thing to me, I'll throw it in and everything'll be all rainbows and sparkles and we'll be back at the motel in time for breakfast."
Cas was still staring out at the lake, oblivious. Dean could hear his breathing beginning to pick up again, fast and shallow, and it hurt to actually see him so afraid. Like actual, squeezed-chest hurt that penetrated him to the very core. Cas wasn't afraid of anything. At least, in Dean's mind.
"Hey - hey." He shook Cas' shoulder firmly, forcing the angel to look at him again, "Focus on me. Ignore the lake."
Cas nodded reluctantly. Dean clapped him on the neck, trying his hardest to believe his next words.
"You'll be fine. Trust me."
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
They trudged out into the clearing, and Dean wished with all his might that he didn't need backup because Cas looked so scared. He'd pulled his sleeves over his hands so that his fingers had something to hold onto, eyes wide, his head snapping around at the slightest noise. He was trying his damnedest not to look at the lake, and every time his gaze happened upon it he stopped dead where he was standing.
In the end, Dean had to grab his arm, his hold distracting the angel from his fear.
"Talk to me," he said, his voice firm, tugging the angel along. Baby steps, "About anything. C'mon. It'll help you relax."
Cas stayed silent. Dean sighed.
"Okay, I'll start if I have to," he thought for a moment as they trudged onwards, "Uhhh..."
"I don't deserve it."
Dean stopped, throwing a quizzical look at the angel. Cas took a breath. Continued.
"This help. You. Sam. Another chance," he explained, his tone sounding tired and hopeless, "The things I did-"
"Were what you thought were right," Dean interjected, perhaps a little more harshly than he ought to, his grip tightening on the angel's arm. He needed to get it straight in that thick skull, "It's not your fault, Cas. It never was."
"You forgive so easily," Cas smirked, but it wasn't a happy smirk, "It's a miracle you don't hate me, considering I betrayed both you and your brother not three years ago. Then I went on to destroy Heaven - tell me, Dean-" Cas' voice had risen spilling out everything that had been building in his head for the past two months - it poured out like bile, angry and morose and never-ending. Every word felt like a cut to the stomach. He wasn't angry at Dean; he was angry at himself, "-are those things worth forgiving?"
Dean stared back. Cas' brows were drawn, pain and guilt and everything that didn't belong to the angel etched into every line on his face. His muscles were tense underneath Dean's grip.
"You fixed it," Dean said quietly, grabbing the lapel of Cas' jacket to prevent him from turning away, "Damn it Cas, you fixed it. And Heaven was filled with a bunch of douchebags anyway. We'll find a way to make it right-"
"But is it worth forgiving?" Cas repeated, his hands coming to clutch at Dean's biceps, nose to nose with the hunter. He was desperate, eyes begging for an answer. A reason.
How badly Dean wanted to say yes. How badly he wanted to give this broken man in front of him comfort.
But at that moment, the world decided to interrupt.
Flames burst into life right behind them, casting an unnatural glow onto the ground below. The fire curved through the air, gradually forming the outline of what would've been a very beautiful woman, had her eyes not been bright red and her hair not been replaced by long tendrils of flame. She had claws too; long, silvery instruments that hung from her hands and twinkled in the moonlight. Deadly sharp.
Great - another thing that could potentially kill them
Cas broke out of his reverie, his hands still gripping tightly onto Dean's upper arms. They glanced at each other, the conversation forgotten. They did the thing any sane person would do; they ran.
In unison, they pelted towards the jetty as fast as their legs could carry them - the jetty was the best bet; Dean highly doubted the elemental would be stupid enough to follow him straight into the lake. He'd have to push it in. How you pushed fire he didn't know. Best to just try and find out, right?
Dean had barely made it ten feet before he felt the creature's claws digging into his calf. He fell forwards onto the dirt, struggling to turn and fire a couple of bullets into her chest. They left sizzling holes in her skin and blew her backwards, even if only for a few seconds. Then Cas was there, helping him up and suddenly they were running again
As soon as they reached the jetty, Cas froze up. He'd done well up until that point, adrenaline overpowering his thoughts. But the sight of that glassy lake stopped him dead, remembering the feel of cold water closing around him like dead hands. Too dark to see, lungs screaming for air - it'd all been so much easier to deal with when he was an angel. Angel's needn't fear mortal things, for mortal things did no harm to them.
But as a human, Castiel was weak and pathetic when compared to the elements. The memories suffocated him, closing around his mind like a great velvety blanket; dark and unending and impenetrable.
Dean turned when he didn't feel Cas beside him. The angel was stood metres behind, still on solid ground, eyes wide and shoulders taut, and (though the hunter despised himself for thinking it) utterly useless.
He could see the light of the elemental spring up behind Cas, and he knew the angel was done for if he didn't do something fast.
The handle of his gun was warm in his hand. He eyed the closest living tree he could see on the bank, an idea springing up in his head. It was a longshot, but his whole life was a friggin' longshot - hopefully he'd get lucky one more time.
"Hey bitch!" He called, aiming the gun at the tree. The elemental paused, glowing eyes widening at the direction of the gun's barrel, "Come and get it!"
He fired two shots, and they hit the tree with two low thumps, the bark splintering open. The elemental hissed, her entire body seeming to pulse with energy. Dean winced, expecting her to speed towards him within a matter of seconds.
It felt like a rug had been tugged out from underneath his feet when she disappeared completely. Dean did a double take, gun lowering a little out of confusion. What?
Just seconds later, flames sprung up in front of him, twirling and twisting in mid-air to form the sort-of pretty yet also fucking scary woman, claws out and hissing at him, eyes glowing like hot coals. She swiped the gun out of his hand, leaving three long bloody gashes across his palm. A splash sounded to his right, and he caught sight of his gun sinking into the water in the edge of his vision. He glanced back up at the elemental.
"Shit."
Dean cast one last glance at his angel, stuck on the shore, before he sprinted off down the jetty. If he wanted this done he'd have to do it on his own. At least Cas hadn't been burned alive. That was always a bonus.
He was just feet from the end when he felt a burning hand on his shoulder, pushing him down. The planks of wood sped towards him and he landed with a crash, already feeling the bruising that was going to appear across his shoulder. If he lived long enough, that is.
His head had smacked against the floor on his way down, and everything had gone fuzzy. He tried to find his gun, but it vaguely occurred to him that it was lying at the bottom of the lake; he tried to stand, but his own momentum stopped him; he tried to fight, but his muscles disobeyed him when he needed them the most.
That same burning hand was clutching his chin now, dragging him up on his knees. He squinted at the bright flames, shining through the dark and, oddly enough, it gave him comfort. At least the last thing he'd see before he died would be a warm glow, rather than a cold, damp floor.
"You'll pay." She hissed, squeezing his shoulder. He cried out - it felt like flames were spreading across his shoulder, radiating out to the rest of his body, heating him up to impossible temperatures. He was burning alive. He was burning alive.
"Dean!"
The low voice cut through the air like a blessing sent on high. There was the sound of pounding footsteps on the jetty, heavy enough for Dean to feel them through his knees. The hand holding him down vanished a second later, before a loud splash broke the calm of the night, the piercing scream of the creature tearing sharply through his eardrums. Dean's eyes snapped open (he didn't remember closing them), rushing to the water's edge to see two flailing forms rippling the once-smooth surface. He could barely make them out, but he knew who they were.
Cas and that bitch.
It looked like they were fighting it out to drown each other.
And, from what he could see, Cas was losing.
"Cas!" He called, crawling forwards - his calf felt like it was torn in half, adrenaline helping him to push past the pain and the fuzziness in his head. He needed to focus. Squinting through the dark, his eyes tried to make sense of what was happening.
The creature was clawing at Cas' face, pulling his hair to tug him under the surface. The water was burning her, smoke and steam floating off of her skin in shimmering waves. She didn't seem to care about dying much - it was like all she wanted to do was to pull Cas down with her, even if it took her last dying breath. If she was going to die, she was going to take someone else with her.
And, within seconds, they both sank below the surface, the creature letting out a screech, whilst Cas' panicked voice choked out the hunter's name one last time before the water flooded over his face, the dark lake swallowing him whole.
Dean didn't think he'd ever dived into freezing cold water so fast in his life.
The lake was like ice to the face, attacking every inch of his skin as he ducked below. Everything became muffled, and he forced his eyes to open in the murk. It stung, and he was sure that he'd have eyesight issues after this, but he didn't care because Cas was sinking downwards, fast. His eyes were closed, air bubbles escaping out of his nose whilst his hair seemed to pulse around him in time with current.
Dean scooped water behind him as he flung his arms out, propelling himself downwards. The pressure tightened like a tangible grip around him, a sharp pain jabbing in his chest. But he ignored it, his fingertips just brushing the cuff of one of Cas' sleeves. He was nearly there, he could -
Pain sliced through his back, his blood beginning to blossom to life in the water around him. He turned, his lungs protesting loudly. Turns out the bitch wasn't dead. Yet.
Oh she was dying alright. Her skin was burning off and she was becoming weaker and weaker by the second, but she still managed to snarl and claw at him. With a well-aimed kick, he knocked her in the chest and sent her sinking backwards, redirecting his attention back to Cas. He'd sunk lower, and air bubbles weren't appearing around his nose anymore. Oh shit.
He launched forwards one more time, latching onto Cas' arm and dragging his dead weight back up with him. His muscles were burning, his lungs felt like they were on fire and his eyes felt like they were going to fall out their sockets any second, but he ignored it. Pushed onwards. Cas needed him.
Thanks to some form of miracle, he broke the surface with a shuddering gasp, pulling in air so fast that he went lightheaded for a few seconds. They were metres away from the jetty, and it took every single shred of willpower he had to haul the once-angel's limp form onto the solid surface before pulling himself up, gasping in air and coughing. Blood was oozing down his back and his wounds were stinging.
But at least he was breathing.
"Cas?" His voice caught, chest heaving. He crawled up to the other's lifeless form, his hands forming a tight ball on Cas' chest. The night fell quiet around them, the creak of the wooden boards below like gunshots through the air. Panic began to settle in his gut, the reality of the situation hitting him like a freight train.
Cas wasn't breathing.
He dispelled the panic forming in his stomach, the hands resting on Cas' chest pushing down - once, twice, "Dammit wake up!" He demanded. He had to keep pushing, had to wake him, "Don't you die on me, don't you dare-"
Cas' body shook with every compression, but he still refused to breathe. His eyes stayed resolutely shut, his black hair sticking to his forehead, highlighting how incurably pale he was. He looked oddly at peace - there were claw marks on his face from where that bitch had scratched at him. And - oh God, he'd gotten sliced above his hip too, dark blood dripping from the deep wound and pooling out onto the wooden planks below.
No, not at peace... fragile. He looked fragile.
He shouldn't look fragile.
"Scared of water, my ass," Dean tried to grin, tried to laugh it off - the fear inside, "You see the way you dived into that lake? You ain't scared of anything. You saved me again and fuck it, I'm gonna save you for once."
He kept pressing harder, and Cas' body shook against the ground in a way that made Dean feel nauseated. He was sure Cas would have a broken rib or two when he woke up. If he woke up. He was going to wake up. He had to wake up.
"Don't make me kiss you," he smirked, but it was fake. It was all fake. A mask to be brave. He was sick of being brave.
Cas didn't breathe. The fake smirk faltered.
"C-Cas?" he stuttered, broken. Shards of glass were stabbing the inside of his throat. He could feel hot pins pricking at the back of his eyes and making his nose tingle, "Cas - Cas please."
Cas remained motionless, refusing to hear Dean's pleas. He would've been staring up at the inky sky, had his eyes not been shut.
Numb, he crouched over Cas' still body, giving another feeble attempt. He pinched the angel's nose with one shaking hand and gently pulled his jaw open with the other. He sealed his lips over Cas' and breathed, trying to jump-start his lungs. The angel's chest inflated, and for one brief moment, Dean was allowed to hope. But Cas didn't suddenly come to life as Dean had wanted him to. He stayed as he was - a statue, lifeless and cold.
Dean kept going though, desperate; refusing to believe. A hundred compressions, breathe, a hundred compressions, breathe. Yet Cas didn't respond. He was growing colder while the seconds whittled away, the cool night air setting his skin to ice. The breeze bit at Dean's face, his wounds were burning and he couldn't feel his legs below the knees. He didn't care.
As seconds turned into minutes, his compressions became half-hearted, and at some point he'd slouched over, defeated, pressing his forehead to the angel's. Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes. He let one hand run through the wet mop of Cas' hair, feeling the slick strands glide between his fingers. Knowing what they'd feel like if they were dry, away from a hunt. Home. Safe.
Together.
"Cas..." His voice was hoarse, his tongue like lead as it sat in his mouth. There was a tight pain in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, "Just once. Just once... ...please."
One final time, he pinched Cas' nose and breathed.
Nothing.
Gently, he pulled away, his lips lingering longer than they really should have on the angel's. A pathetic sob wormed its' way out of his throat.
"Dammit..." He choked, hoisting up Cas' limp form to rest across his knees, hugging him to his chest. The angel's head lolled grotesquely in the crook of Dean's elbow, facing inwards, away from the world. His mouth was parted slightly, lips tinted a faint blue. He was so cold. He shouldn't be this cold, "Dammit..."
Dean's hand fisted in the worn jacket Cas was wearing, knuckles going white. The material was soaking wet, heavy in his fingers. The last thing left he could have of the angel.
The last thing...
In his anger, he thumped Cas hard on the back, willing for him to just open his fucking eyes, stupid bastard. So he could see them at least one last time, tell him how sorry he was for ever dragging him into this, tell him he was forgiven for everything... tell him that he loved him. Because he did. Screw denial - he loved his best friend. He wanted hold him tight and to kiss him because it was the closest to paradise he could get on this god forsaken earth. And he'd take what he could get because he deserved it. They deserved it.
His cheeks were wet from something other than lake water now, and he'd pulled Cas further up, burying his face in that ridiculous shock of black hair, rocking back and forth. Fucking idiot. Fucking idiot, why'd you have to do that?
And that's when he felt it.
Cas seemed to spasm, dissolving into coughs and jerking so suddenly to life that Dean's heart felt like it was going to explode out of his ribs and make a mess on the ground below.
"Cas - Cas," he called, pulling the angel up by the shoulders, "Cas you're okay; look at me, you're okay, I got you-"
He was choking out water, his shoulders shaking violently as his neck failed to hold his head up. On instinct, Dean hit his back, relief washing through his every fibre. He's okay. He's okay.
It looked like Cas had swallowed half the lake - it took him at least four full minutes to stop coughing, and even then it wasn't completely. Exhausted, he fell forwards, and Dean was there to catch him. He'd always be there to catch him.
"Dean...?" Cas croaked quietly, the arms hanging limply by his sides coming around to clutch at Dean's jacket, needing a lifeline to hold onto. Something to reaffirm the existence of the physical plane.
"...You scared the shit outta me," Dean stated into Cas' hair, finding his voice again as he encircled the angel's shaking form with his arms, holding him tightly. He didn't want to let go, for fear of losing him again, "Two near-death experiences in a month - you got a schedule or something?"
Still out of it, Cas mumbled weakly, "Y-you're bleeding..." His fingers could feel the thick substance dripping down the hunter's back as they dug into the material of Dean's jacket, "You should... go... hospital."
"I've had worse." Dean lied. He'd need stitches, he knew. But Cas needed help more - that cut over his hip ran deep. Who knew if it had nicked an organ or not? And the cold and damp wasn't helping them much either.
Stiffly, Dean took one of Cas' arms and looped it around his neck, pulling the angel up with him. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ploughed forwards, the jetty creaking as they managed their way back to the Impala. Cas ended up laying on the back two seats while Dean began the (thankfully short) drive to the nearest hospital, fake names and fake insurance at the ready.
Cas had fallen asleep at some point, from exhaustion or shock or something else - Dean didn't know. He just concentrated on getting to the hospital and fixing up his angel.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
It seemed half of Dean's life was devoted to waiting at the side of a hospital bed for a loved one to wake up.
The least they could do was get some comfier chairs or something. Hard plastic wasn't that great to sit on for hours on end. His butt was numb and he couldn't even feel his left foot.
When Cas had gotten here (at about two in the morning), the nurses had all rushed around after him, and after 'persuading' a doctor, Dean had finally gotten a straight answer as to why Cas had been carted off down the hall almost immediately. Not only did he still have fluid in his lungs, but the gash across his side had caused him to lose a hell of a lot of blood. Another reason as to why he was so very pale.
So they'd gotten the rest of the fluid out (however they did that - Dean only cared that they'd gotten it out in the first place) and hooked the angel up to a drip and a blood bag. Dean hadn't been able to stay by Cas for long after that - the doctors had dragged him off in order to stitch up his wounds and treat the burn mark that spread from his shoulder to his neck and across his collar bone. Like an overly protective parent, they hadn't left him alone until they were 200% sure he wasn't about to drop dead on the spot.
It was about seven am. Dean hadn't slept a wink. He'd stayed by Cas' side the entire night, refusing to budge, even after numerous doctors had suggested that he go and get some rest to heal. He wanted to be absolutely sure that Cas was okay - because there was still that irrational part of him that told him something could still go wrong. Cas might inexplicably never wake up, or an infection might set in and destroy him from the inside out.
It was unsurprising that Cas' hadn't woken up yet, though. The amount of drugs they'd pumped into his system wasn't as much as it could've been, but the angel was a friggin' lightweight. One pump of morphine could probably knock him out for a couple days at least.
Dean looked up as another nurse walked into the room (the fifth in the last three hours. Dean had counted), checking on the patient record they kept at the end of the bed, flashing a smile at Dean. Dean smiled back out of politeness - she really was very pretty - but he wasn't in the mood. Cas needed him.
"Brother?" The nurse - 'Shannon' read her name tag - questioned Dean, inclining her head at Castiel's sleeping form. Dean shook his head, a combination of tiredness and worry causing him to forget that his and Cas' fake names shared the same surname, and that they were supposed to be brothers. The nurse's eyes widened slightly, before she nodded in understanding.
"He'll be fine," she reassured him, "Should wake up in the next few hours or so. Any trouble, just yell. One of us'll come running."
She walked to the door, casting one last look at them over her shoulder. She smiled.
"You two do make a very nice couple, by the way."
With that, she left the room, leaving nothing but beeping monitors and a speechless Dean in her wake.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
His head kept nodding on his shoulders, eyes sliding shut every minute or so. He didn't know what time it was. He just knew that if Cas didn't wake up soon he was gonna climb into bed with him and just sleep. God knew that would make an interesting sight for the nurses. Quite frankly, he didn't give a shit.
"Dean?"
Coarse and scratchy, Cas' voice landed softly in his eardrums, carrying all the weight of a feather. Tiredness left him, his hands snatching up Cas' own wavering one almost immediately, firm enough to give Cas something to hold onto. Something to comfort him. To tell him that he was safe.
"Hey," his voice sounded raspy and low, just managing to cut through the lull of monitors and machines, "Hey, I'm here. Don't, uh, don't panic or anything."
Unwillingly, Cas cracked open an eyelid turning his head on the pillow and Jesus, he looked more terrible awake than he did asleep. The grey circles around his eyes were brought into sharp relief by the sun that climbed through the room's only window; his black hair was dishevelled, making his face seem smaller - pinched, and his five o'clock shadow seemed to have taken Cas' unconsciousness as a sign to hurry up the growth process.
Nonetheless, a weak smile drifted across the angel's lips, deepening the lines around his eyes.
"Hello Dean." He greeted.
The sound of that sentence was like a blessing. The weight in the hunter's stomach vanished, and he didn't even attempt to stop the face-splitting grin that erupted across his face. It was good to hear it again. His hands held tighter onto Cas', and as gay as it was, Dean just couldn't find it in him to lessen his hold. The angel might somehow evaporate if he did that.
"It's about goddamn time. It's-" Dean snatched a glance at his wristwatch, still holding Cas' hand whilst the other absently helped the angel to sit up, propping him on seemingly never-ending pillows, "-eleven o'clock. You've been out nearly ten hours. I'll go get the nurse-"
In a rush, he stood, beginning to pull away, but Cas just held on tighter, leaning forwards in order to keep his grip on Dean's hand. The hunter stopped, glancing down at his fingers. They were still intertwined tightly with Cas'.
"Don't," Cas pleaded, voice hoarse, wide eyes boring into Dean's. Imploring. Begging. Those eyes, "I don't want you to... to leave."
He nearly sat right the fuck back down at those words. Cas just sounded so desperate. But the nurses needed to check him - to make sure Cas was functioning properly. Dean would never live with himself if something was wrong with the angel and he'd been too preoccupied to realize it.
"I'm not leaving, Cas," He reassured with a squeeze of his hand, "I'll be right back. Promise."
He watched as Cas glanced down at the bed covers, looking all for the world like a kicked puppy, and it occurred to him that he was all Cas had. After waking up unconscious for the first time in a place he'd didn't know, he needed a lifeline. Something to reassure him - to make him feel safe. He'd want the same thing in Cas' situation. Anybody would.
Dean's heart skipped a beat. His tongue was suddenly heavy in his throat and before he could tell his body to shut the fuck up, he'd leant down and kissed the angel softly on the lips.
It lasted maybe a second, probably less. Just a quick kiss. Just something that Cas could understand. A thing that Dean couldn't convey with his words, but with his body instead. He pulled away.
Cas was looking at him with round eyes, his mouth slightly agape. Dean kept his calm. Barely.
"I'll be right back." He repeated slowly, a soft grin turning up the corners of his lips. And within a moment he was gone, leaving Cas looking a mix between surprised, confused and tired as he sat in his bed.
As soon as he was out of the room, he let out a grunt of frustration.
What the fuck was that, Dean? What the fuck?
It's fine, he told himself, it's fine, it's completely fine.
The consequent bump into the next hallway corner proved that it was anything but 'fine'.
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Cas was up and out of the hospital within the next few hours, Dean ensuring that they left before the doctors could follow up on their insurance details. A quick change into a baggy set of Dean's clothes, and they were gone. They got back to their motel room quickly and it was odd to actually feel happy about seeing the moth-eaten curtains and cheaply carpeted floor again. No heart monitors or strange smells to attack their senses.
Dean was adamant about helping Cas from the car, despite the angel's protests. Cas was not going to fall over on his watch - hell no. Any more mishaps and they'd be riding straight back to the hospital.
Eventually, Cas ended up sat on one of the beds, resting against the headboard whilst Dean stood at the window, his back to the angel. He was torn - some irrational part of him was stood there simply because he wanted to take watch. As though the elemental was somehow alive and going on a 'Cas-hunt'; that wasn't the real reason, of course.
He was stood there because he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.
'Dean', 'Cas', and 'kiss'. Didn't belong in the same sentence - the same paragraph, for fuck sake's. But his mind kept bleating them back at him, along with sending this warm, gooey feeling down to his gut and god he was so gay-
"Does it hurt?"
Dean turned, caught off guard by the angel's abrupt question.
"Huh?"
Cas inclined his head, "That cut on your back," he said, not missing a beat, "How... How bad is it?"
Dean's brow smoothed out of it's own accord. Why was Cas asking him that? Sure, it was bad, but there was no way in hell he was gonna tell Cas that. He wouldn't let the burden of his injury weigh down the angel's already heavy shoulders - and he knew it would. In that respect, they were so similar. They took blame where there was none to be taken.
He shrugged, then winced. He'd pulled the muscles in his back. Cas took note of the wince, his brows upturning and fuck, Dean had let on as to how much it really hurt.
"Not that bad," he amended quickly, "I've had worse."
Cas' head shook a fraction, "You said that when I had your blood all over my hands. You were lying then too." He said perceptively. He shuffled across the bed, beckoning awkwardly with a hand, like he hadn't quite gotten used to the ways humans communicated with gestures yet. Dean eyed the hand the way in which you'd eye a rabid dog, hesitating.
Oh, fuck it, why not?
Quickly, like pulling a band-aid off as to not feel the pain, he sat on the end of the bed with a slight creak. He could feel Cas' presence shift closer to his back, and Jesus did it just raise fifty degrees or something?
"Did they give you anything to soothe the pain?" The angel's voice sounded far closer than Dean had anticipated, those rough vocals sending shivers running down his spine. He nearly leapt when Cas' fingers skirted down his back, and no, this shouldn't be happening but dear god did it feel good.
Unknowingly, he leant into Cas' touch, relishing the feel of the angel's fingers as rubbed lower, dragging his fingertips in ineligible patterns across Dean's muscles. There was much more behind the movement. Cas was trying to speak without words. From where Dean was sitting, the angel was speaking volumes.
He was offering quiet help. He wanted to soothe Dean's pain, and not just the pain that resided in his wounds.
It took far too long to realise he was meant to be answering a question.
"They would've, if we'd stuck around long enough," he admitted, hearing his voice beginning to slur a little while Cas' hands continued their work. The angel was pressing in all the right places, the only thing dulling the sensation being Dean's t-shirt, "But we needed to get out of there, so - oh hell, may as well do this properly."
On an impulse he was sure to regret, he dragged his t-shirt up and over his head, flinging it to the floor. It landed with a thump, sounding in time with the angel's sharp breath. He heard Cas' voice from behind him, ridden with apology.
"Dean..." he felt the pad of Cas' thumb run gently around the raised skin, being sure not to touch the wound itself, "...I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Dean assured, quick to dispel any guilty thoughts, muscles flexing a little as he got comfier on the bed, "That bitch dragged you under, so I dived in. Turns out she wasn't dead yet and she clawed me. End of."
Cas had begun his work again, more carefully this time, pressing Dean's tightly wound sinews with his fingers, etching little circles into every contour. It was like he knew Dean's every cell - knew just where to press and to rub. To have someone attend his body like that - to know it like a map - was completely new to the hunter. He kept forgetting that Cas had been the one to piece him back together after his trip downstairs. It only made sense that the angel knew his body inside out. Hell, he probably knew the exact amount of freckles he had across his face and could recite where each one was if he wanted to.
It was comforting, in a way. Creepy too, he supposed. Nonetheless, comforting.
He knew he should probably begin talking about the little kiss they'd shared in the hospital at some point, but Cas' fingers had just hit a spot of tightly bunched muscle near the base of his spine and oh. Oh, that felt fucking amazing.
Never would he admit the purr - yes, the fucking purr - that sounded from somewhere deep in his chest. A sound he'd never thought himself capable of making. Then again, kissing an angel in a dude's body was something he'd thought outside of his boundaries until that very morning.
He just learned something new every damn day, didn't he?
Subconsciously, he leant forwards where he sat, silently asking Cas to edge a little lower. The angel was happy to oblige. He wondered where Cas had learnt to do this - he was pretty sure they didn't have massage parlours or masseus lessons upstairs. He wondered if, perhaps, Cas had knowledge of other things he could do with his body if he really wanted to. Preferably, things he could do to Dean. On a bed. Naked.
Whoa, inappropriate thoughts. Nope. Nope, fuck that.
"Dean?"
Dean barely flickered his eyes open, a relaxed "Mmm?" falling out of his mouth in response.
"You kissed me."
The tension in his muscles was back with a vengeance, sitting him up straighter on the edge of the bed. His eyes were fully open now, 'cause he knew he wouldn't be able to relax again for a good while. Damn. He'd been enjoying that.
"I... I know." He said lamely, unsure of what to say. Thanks for stating the obvious, Cas.
"Why?"
It felt like a physical blow to the chest to hear the confusion in Cas' voice - as if the angel were genuinely unaware that he could be valued. Unaware that someone would want to kiss him out of love rather than some alterior motive.
And then, Dean knew. The pin dropped. The bird flew the fucking coop.
Love. That was why.
He loved Cas. He'd known it as soon as he'd seen the angel tied to the chair in April's living room, knife through his stomach, eyes closed to the world. He'd known it since he'd pulled him out of the lake and prayed - begged - for him to live another hour. To wake so that Dean could tell him that he loved the stupid son of a bitch and that he wanted to kiss him and hold him and just love him. Give him love in every form until he was sick of it. Give him love until he couldn't take anymore. And add some on top of that.
Because Cas deserved it. Cas deserved to be loved. And if he could only be loved by Dean then dammit, he was gonna be loved by Dean.
It was impossible to convey all of that with just his words. The hunter had the emotional range of a friggin' teaspoon. He was a man of actions, not words. He could probably say more with his left pinky than he could with his voice.
"Because it's you, Cas." He answered simply, turning just a fraction so he could see that stupid angelic face. Cas' brows were upturned, a slight frown pulling at his mouth. His hands were resting just above the curves of Dean's hips, his fingers feeling like fire on the hunter's skin.
"You can do better." Cas said quietly, looking down at his crossed legs. Frustration pulsed through Dean's stomach.
Perhaps with a little more aggression than intended, he reached out a hand and rested it on Cas' knee, the other favouring to run it's fingers through the angel's hair, halting possessively over the nape of the angel's neck.
"Than you?" He grinned - stupid angel. His stupid angel, "Cas, you're so fucking important to me and you don't... you don't even understand it. I..."
He bit his lip. He could feel that x-ray gaze latching onto his every movement. He felt Cas' hair beneath the pads of his fingers, absently sliding the thick strands through his digits. Much better dry, he decided.
"...I need you. Screw angels and demons. Powers or no powers. I need you, Cas." He finished in a rush, sliding his eyes over the angel's. Sometimes he wished Cas could read his mind. It would make everything so much easier. Cas could feel for himself what he meant to Dean. Then the hunter wouldn't have to trip over his own tongue to try and convey the right messages. For once, he wished he'd been blessed with Sam's ability to say sappy stuff - he could really use that skill right about now.
Cas was still staring at him, the smallest of smiles on his face and that was around about the time Dean said 'fuck it' and turned his body completely, sat sideways on the edge of the bed. He pulled Cas towards him and let his lips brush against the angel's again. Slowly. Hungrily. They both needed this. Dean sure as hell knew he did.
Cas' lips were pliant and clumsy beneath Dean's, almost as if he were a little nervous - maybe he was. His last 'sexual encounter' had ended with him getting stabbed. No brainer if he was a little nervous.
"Relax," he grinned into the kiss, tilting his head a little, the hand on Cas' knee coming to rest on the patch of bed next to Cas' hips, holding his weight up, "You'll enjoy it more."
Cas' shoulders lost some of their tenseness, and Dean felt way too much like a teenager when his heart pounded in his chest as the angel looped his arms loosely across his shoulders, tugging him deeper into the kiss. At some point, Cas' legs had un-crossed themselves, leaving space for Dean to edge closer, pulling the angel's body towards him.
Dean dared to swipe his tongue across the angel's bottom lip, deliberately dragging the action out, being sure to keep that slow pace going. Cas pretty much melted beneath him, mouth opening fully underneath Dean's, allowing him entrance. Goosebumps raced across his neck as Cas' carded his blunt fingernails through Dean's hair, sending a searing flash of heat propelling through his nether regions.
"Fucking hell..." He groaned. Goddamn angel knew all his weak spots already. He'd need to find Cas' if he was going to fight back.
Experimentally, Dean tilted his head, lips leaving Cas'. He nudged underneath Cas' chin to leave a few scant kisses beneath his jawline. His skin was hot underneath Dean's lips, and he knew he'd hit the right place when the angel let his head drop backwards, the one arm around his shoulders tightening it's hold.
"Dean..."
Okay. He was rock hard now. It actually hurt. But that deep fucking voice - humming his name out like it was the only thing he knew how to say. It was a goddamn turn on like nothing he'd heard before. Hell, Cas even outdid the latino waitress back in Illinois a few years back. And that was saying something.
Everything sort of tumbled downwards after that.
Dean pressed closer, nipping across Cas' neck while Cas ran his hands down Dean's bare back, thumbs pulling incessantly at his waistband and the growl that Dean let out then was downright animalistic. He pulled away, Cas chasing his lips, before pushing the angel down onto the mattress. While he was still mindful of Cas' hip wound, he went rough. Rough and messy - just the way he liked it.
He made light work of Cas' shirt - it was gone within thirty seconds and then his tongue was dipping into the rivet of the angel's collar bone, loving the feel of Cas as he arched up off the bed, his hands reaching down to grope Dean's ass. Angel-boy wanted to play rough too. He could dig that.
Within minutes they were both panting heavily. Cas was sporting a good few hickeys below his jaw, trailing over his adam's apple and disappearing at his collar bone, and Dean had worked his way back up, pinning Cas' wrists above his head on the sheets. The angel was flushed pink from his ears to his neck, and his irises were being swallowed by black pupil. He looked dazed and blissed out. Dean grinned.
"You're beautiful," he murmured. He was gonna start writing sonnets soon if he kept this up, "And you're my 'better'. Don't ever forget it."
Cas smiled, reddened lips quirking. He leant up, laying a light kiss on Dean's nose. Dean raised an eyebrow, but his grin just grew bigger.
"I love you."
Dean would've thought he was hearing things, had he not seen Cas' mouth move to form those words. Mouth every syllable and mean them. They shined in the deep blue of his eyes, hid beneath every crinkle of his smile and Dean was overcome with such a warmth in his gut he felt like he could just topple over onto the bed and never get up again.
Those words were bigger than him. They meant something more and he could barely cope.
"You too, Cas."
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Hope you enjoyed!
If this get's a good reception, I'll most likely write more - 'cause, let's face it, we can't get sick of Dean and Cas x3
So yeah, drop a review if you please! Much appreciated. ^_^
Also, kudos to you if you spotted the subtle Harry Potter reference ;D