I DON'T OWN THEM!
It is three o'clock in the morning and his phone is blaring. Loud. Too loud for this time and place. Too loud for his condition. The taste in his mouth is awful...like old socks and bile. He feels for his phone on the nightstand and in that effort, he knocks a table lamp and a glass of water over. Loudly cursing, he accepts the call.
"Dean?" It's Sam's voice, trembling and hesitant.
"Sammy...what's up?" Dean asks cheerful. It might be in the middle of the night and he might have the mother of all hangovers, but it is his brother on the phone, his brother with whom he has not changed a word for at least half a year.
"It's Cas..." Sam says. "He's ill."
Dean sobers instantly and cold fingers of fear are wrapping around his heart. He tries to shake off the bad feeling that comes over him.
"What is it this time? Another paper cut? Or tooth ache? Heartburn?"
"Dean, it's serious. He'll properly kill me, when he realizes I'd call you. But you ought to know." Sam's voice is cracking. "He's dying."
And just like that, the world ends.
Dean and his brother have prevented one or the other apocalypse in the past, but now the world has stopped to turn.
A storm of white noise surrounds him.
"I'm coming", he says and ends the call.
Dean sits up, with trembling hands and tears in his eyes. He runs his hands over his face and through his hair. His breathing is irregular and painful.
Soft arms embrace him from behind, wet lips kiss his shoulder, a woman purrs into his ear "Honey, come back to sleep, it's too damn early." Eager fingers trail down his stomach, gropping his dick. "Or we can have some fun, when we are already awake!"
Dean untangles himself from the willing woman. "Look Sandy, I have to go."
"It's Cindy", she corrects him and lays back again.
By the time, Dean is dressed, she softly snores.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
On the road again, driving baby through the night on empty streets, his thoughts drift away to the last time, he saw Cas. His Cas. Castiel, angel of the lord.
They were in the bunker. Cas a human being. Dean an asshole.
Cas confessed his love for Dean. A love, pure and passionate.
And Dean rejected him.
Told him to keep his love for himself.
Told him he was not worth beeing loved.
And than, he ran.
Ran away from Castiel, from his own feelings.
How could this celestial being love him, broken Dean Winchester. Oh Chuck knows how much he loves Cas. Loved him back than and loves him now. But love makes you vulnerable. And he didn't want Cas to be hurt. He thought, a clean cut would be better, than a lifelong suffering.
He drowned his sorrows in booze and pussies.
He was aimless, let himself drift. A functional alkoholic, playing pool and poker, hooking up with every willing woman he meets. Blond, brunette, barley legal or cougar. He doesn't care.
In the beginning, Sam often called, trying to convince him to come back.
Told him, that he and Cas would hunt together. That they would miss him.
But Dean knew, he couldn't come back to Sam, to Cas.
It was better that way.
The calls became less and less and than, they stopped entirely.
And Dean continued to fuck random women. He wasn't picky, had no sexual preference. Everything was good for him. But...he fucked blue eyed women only from behind. He couln't stand to look into blue orbs while pounding into willing flesh.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
The drive is long, the sun has already risen as he drives to the parking lot of the hospital. A friendly nurse at the registration gives him the room number of Castiel Novak and Dean runs along the corridors to Castiel's room. His heart beats hard and fast and his palms are sweaty.
In front of the door, he stops. He's afraid to walk into the room.
"Man up, Winchester!" he encourages himself and hesitantly knocks.
"Come in", he hears Sam's weary voice.
On shaky legs he enters the room. Sam stands up from the chair next to Castiel's bed, smiles and wraps his arms around him. "It's good to see you" he mumurs.
For a brief moment, Dean relishes the feeling of being held.
Tears spring into his eyes at the sight of Castiel in the white bedding. He is sleeping. And oh so pale. A monitor is beeping and different tubes run from his body to ominous looking machines. That beautiful tousled black hair is gone. He's emaciated.
"He looks so small", he whispers. And remembers the first time, he saw Cas. So powerful.
"The last chemotherapy was very exhausting for him. And it seems, as if he has given up. As if he refuses to fight any more."
"Chemotherapy?" Dean's voice is breaking.
"Leukemia. The treatment did not help as hoped. And a matching bone morrow donor has not been found. The docs are running out of options."
"They are supposed to test me!"
"You sure?"
"Of course I am. This is Cas. I can't let him go. I can't. He safed me more times that I can count. And I can't life without him. I tried and I can't!" Dean almost yells and Cas stirrs. Dean sits down by his side and takes Cas' hand into his. "Sweetheart, I love you. More than my life itself. I'm so sorry. Please come back to me!" Sobs are breaking free and he kisses Cas knuckles tenderly.
"I hope, you tell him all that again, when he's awake", Sam says dryly. "I'll search for a nurse to tell her, you want to be tested." With that, he leaves the room.
Dean lowers his head and brings Castiels hand to his lips again. A hand, that once was able to kill demons, monsters, angels. A hand, so fragile now. Dean wants this hand to stroke his skin, tenderly.
"Baby, I am so sorry. I'm such an idjit! We lost so much time because of my stupidity."
"Insight is the first step towards improvement." Castiel's voice is weak and even deeper than before and it sends a shiver down Dean's spine.
Dean smiles at Cas, who is awake by now.
"Cas, I love you so much. I'm sorry about everything. So sorry."
Castiel smiles faintly.
"I never stoped loving you. And I never will", Cas confesses.
"We have lots of talking to do. But first of all, we have to focus on your health. I want you to fight! I will be at your side and I will never leave. Without you, my life is empty and dark. You are my light and my life and my love. And I need you."
He lowers his lips to Castiel's, the kiss is short and chaste but oh so sweet. It feels so good and so right.
Dean is, where he belongs. At the side of his angel.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo
To the astonishment of the doctors, Dean is a suitable donor.
Maybe it's coincidence, maybe it's their profound bond.
The treatments are painful, for both of them. But the reward is worth it.
Cas feels better. There is color in his cheeks. He gains strength and weight.
Sam morphs into a mother hen. He feeds them with a lot of healthy stuff and herbal teas.
They take baby steps in their relationship but every night, they sleep entangled in each other in their new king size bed with memory foam.
And none of them ever slept better before.
They celebrate the day on which Cas officially goes in remission and Sam allows them a sip of beer. They talk and laugh and enjoy their time together. Enjoy, being alive.