Hi guys, I know I haven't uploaded in a horrifically long time and I'm very very sorry but I hope the more masochistic among you enjoy this little fic
Disclaimer: I own nothing blah blah blah...
It's been six months to the day, almost exactly by my count. Dean was defiant at first, I couldn't blame him, I could hardly accept it either. I'd watch over him as he went about his business, go out on cases like he always did, tracking a possible lead on his brothers whereabouts. But then it caught up to him, I always knew it would eventually and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. He collapsed outside the motel we were staying at; I'd only just managed to convince him to let me come along this time because it was only a short trip. He doesn't really remember what happened. I took him in my arms to the bed and checked for injuries of which there were few minor scrapes from the gravel parking lot. As he slept that night I prayed to my father to help him as I no longer could. I prayed every night for the last half a year and he has sent nothing. My sadness quickly turns to anger in recent months, I curse my father for abandoning my brothers and I, and I curse my brothers for being petty children in the absence of our father. But none of that is going to help my hunter, he's slipping away day by day and I, in my mortal form can do nothing to stop it. Above all else this angers me most, I am charged to protect him, and Sam, and I have failed on both counts. Sam is a slave to Gadriel's will while his brother languishes in sickness.
I have never been idle, every day I consult one of the books in Bobby Singers extensive library for a way to help Dean. I have tried every one of the Winchesters contacts but none of them know a way. It is difficult however since Dean does not wish others to know of his condition so I must create other scenarios to ask for the help which we require. I know that the solution he needs lies with my brothers and sisters, but none would help me now, after all that I have done. Two weeks ago I went to the crossroads; the demon laughed in my face and promised Dean a homecoming party for when he returned to hell. I drove my blade through his chest. Since Dean could no longer work cases he has been training me. It took a lot of convincing but he eventually agreed just to get out of bed. He sits beside me as I do target practise and pushes my physical limits in fitness. Afterwards as I nearly collapse beside him on the floor next to the bench out the back of Bobby's house, slouched against his legs with my head lolled back onto his thigh, he combs his fingers through my damp hair in soothing motions muttering almost to himself, "My soldier, my angel." I feel like tearing myself apart, for I am not an angel and am of little to no use to him because of it. But I keep myself in check and allow the motions on my scalp to calm me. We sit like this for hours sometimes until the sky darkens and the stars begin to shine, I stand stiffly, shaking out my weary limbs before sliding an arm about his waist to guide him to bed. At first he resisted my assistance, saying "I'm not a baby Cas, I can do things by myself", but I believe now it comes as more of a comfort to him as I hold his weight to my side going up the stairs.
He falls asleep, arms curled protectively around me as my head rests on his chest. I always wait for him to drift off to sleep first, sometimes I watch his face, relaxed and seemingly unchanged from the first time I met him. I make a silent plea that his troubles do not follow him while he sleeps. Soon though the steady rise and fall of his chest and beat of his heart lull me too into fitful sleep. In my dreams there is a bright white light and the strange weightless feeling that I understand as falling, fear grips me and I can see the world rushing up to meet me. I awake with a start for the first of many times that night, checking that I've not disturbed Dean. He needs the sleep more than I and he does not know of my dreams.
Mornings are the worst for Dean, he awakes disorientated and afraid. I believe that his time in Purgatory has a hand in this, he mutters of the monsters that smell fear and weakness. Each time, I take his head into my hands and hold his gaze with my own to show him that all is well and he is not back in that awful place. He relaxes soon and each time as I watch the adrenaline leave his system he comes back to himself, every day the sickness falls more heavily upon him. It pains me to see my hunter slipping away but I cannot allow him to see that. He has more care for me than for himself, no matter how many times I have told him not to worry about me, he cannot help himself. That is one of the reasons I love him, even if he does not know it. I feel as though I should tell him more and more everyday but words always fall short. I steal myself, attempting to gather all that I feel for him and express it in words, "Dean," my voice is muffled slightly by his chest as we lay in bed but he hears me, "Yeah Cas" I feel him shift as his head lifts to look at me. As I do the same, his emerald green eyes meet mine, they are unchanged since the first time I saw them, I can almost see the pure white soul glinting behind them. "I..." My courage falters and I curse the seemingly inadequate vocabulary of earth, it seems as though nothing is good enough for this. He can sense that I'm struggling, "I know Cas," he tilts my face back towards him from where it has sagged in shame, "Me too." His had cups my cheek while he leans down for a gentle kiss.
I can't help him. He's screaming for me and there's nothing I can do. Where are you now father when I truly need you? When he needs you most. There is only so much that a damp cloth to the forehead and soothing words whispered into his hair can do as I hold him through the worst of the pain. Dean just wants the pain to end. I want nothing more than that, but my selfish needs are keeping him here. He won't let go because of me.
His jaw clenches as his teeth grit against the feeling wracking his body, he is strong even now. It has been an hour since the seizure started and there are no signs of relenting. He endures a further twenty minutes of agony before the fatigue fully sets in, no one could fight it forever, not even Dean Winchester. "It's okay," I say softly as the first tear rolls down his cheek. "You're tired and it's okay to take a rest." His body is shattered, the initial pain has stopped but the aftermath hits harder every time. As his breathing returns to normal, his eyelids droop. It's not the first time Dean has passed out from exhaustion after what he's been through. I move further down our bed so that he can rest against me more comfortably, it's the most I can do for him anymore. Suddenly his body clenches, his hands grasping at my shirt. Before I can look at him properly he goes limp once more. "Dean," I say softly tilting his head to look at me. "What's wrong?" As I take in his weary face I see the tears rolling down his cheeks, "I don't want to go Cas," there is guilt and grief in his eyes that pains me more than anything. "I can't leave you here."
As I wipe away the tears as they fall, my insides are churning, it's not his fault that I have fallen and can no longer protect myself or the people I love most in the ways I once could. Deans heart rate is slowing lower than normal, "You're not leaving me alone Dean," I have to fight for my voice to remain even while I can feel him slipping away. "You don't have to fight anymore... It's okay to let go." His hands fist into my shirt again but this time it's weaker, he hasn't the strength left anymore. "I need you Cas," his eyes are pleading and I long to take the pain away. I kiss his face and hair, taking in the man I care most about in the world. "I'm scared... of being somewhere that you can't find me." His breathing is uneven as his heart slows further still. My hunter is fading away in my arms and there is nothing in my power to stop it. Tears are sliding down my face before I can stop them; I pull him closer into my arms. "You shouldn't be afraid Dean, Heaven is a beautiful place." His head shakes weakly against my shoulder as he buried his face into my neck, "Can't go..." He mumbles, "...not without you."
"Please Dean-" I begin, my voice cracks, "You never needed me. You have to let go." I place kisses soft kisses on his forehead while soothing his hair back from where it has flattened with sweat. "Ss-..Sammy?" A twinge of guilt twist through me as I recall the younger Winchester, "I'll help him Dean," I tell him confidently, "You don't have to worry about him." "If that's even possible." I add as an afterthought, Dean sighs into my neck but I feel the ghost of a smile against my skin. As he sighs, his breath catches. "It's okay, don't try to hold on." My voice is broken, part of my mind screams at me to plead him to stay, because I need him more than he ever realised, because I love him completely. But my selfishness has caused him nothing but pain. I won't hurt him any longer. The last of his strength moves his head to face me, his deep green eyes meet mine, "I love you." He whispers softly. "Always." I reply, cupping his cheek as I kiss him. His hand rises to cover mine and our foreheads touch.
I realise the absence of soft breaths tickling my face as his hand slides away from where it covered my own. I lower his head to my shoulder and hold his body close. Tears flow freely down my face into Dean's hair while my hands grip into his shirt. The silence is deafening for a moment, until it's drowned out by the blood rushing in my ears and the sound of shuddering sobs.
"No... Dean."
"Please,"
"I love you."