A Fight Gone Wrong
The demons were surrounding them, smirks lighting their faces. Dean pressed his back against Sam's back and shot one in the head with the Colt. He felt the solid weight of Sam's back leave his for a moment, and for a moment he panicked, but then he heard the sizzle of the demon knife and Sam's reassuring presence was back, just as one of the demons fell to the ground.
Aiming carefully once again, Dean took out another demon, but another simply filled its place. This wasn't like demons – they weren't really putting any effort into their attacks, just standing there and smiling manically as one after another threw themselves at the brothers and the Winchesters killed them. How many were there? All Dean could see was the steady trickle of more demons coming in the back door to the warehouse, and swore silently to himself as he shot another one of the demons. Where was Cas?
As if on cue, the angel appeared next to him, placing a hand on a demons head, smiting it within a second. Dean shut his eyes for a second as the blinding white light filled the room.
"Cas? What's happening?" Dean shot another demon, right as it jumped for Cas.
"I do not know Dean. What I do know is that these are not normal demons. We must leave immediately." The angel's voice was soft but commanding and Dean found himself nodding.
Sam stabbed a demon, lunging as it went for Dean. Dean waited for Cas to put his hands on them and teleport them out of there, but the comforting presence of his angel was suddenly gone, and as Dean used another of the Colt's bullets, he saw why.
One of the demons had somehow managed to get a hold of Cas's angel blade. Fear clenched at Dean's chest, as the demon now had the means to kill Cas, but he reassured himself with the thought that Cas would not let himself he killed by mere demon.
That was until he heard the yell of pain. Panic flashing through his brain, he shot two shots in succession, and looked with wide eyes over at Cas. Terror clutched at his insides as he saw that the demon had managed to stab Cas in the belly, a place where Dean had seen Cas stab other angels before, and they died.
No. No, this was not how it was meant to go.
As if that had been the signal, all the demons left their hosts, smoking out at the same time. Dean didn't give two shits about them, and he ran to Cas, kneeling beside the angel, who had been flung down on his back.
"Nonononononono…" Dean heard himself muttering, looking at the angel blade and realising that it was too far in, that he couldn't pull it out, that it was a fatal wound.
He moves to pull it out, but Cas grabs his wrist, drawing his green eyes to the angel's whirling blue ones. He sees acceptance there, as well as pain, and he shakes his head, refuses to acknowledge what is in front of his eyes.
"Don't pull it out Dean. That will simply kill me faster."
Dean said nothing in response, simply pulling the angel into his arms, trying to ignore the tiny gasps of pain that said angel was giving out.
"It will be okay Dean." Dean let out a choked gasp, feeling silent tears slip down his cheeks. Cas was dying and he was reassuring Dean? "You can continue without me."
"No. I can't." Dean replies. And he realises that it's true. He can't operate without Cas, without the blue eyes staring contests lack of personal space watching over while sleeping fighting together being together… His thoughts trail off as Cas's eyes widen fractionally. That must means that he's shocked.
Without thinking about it, Dean leans closer to the dying angel and presses a light kiss to his mouth. The slight indrawn breath, the plush dry lips it all welcomes him, tells him he's home, and Dean berates himself for not seeing it before.
When he breaks it off, he only moves away fractionally, so he can stare into Cas's eyes. They sit like that for an eternity, but it goes too fast, and it seems like only seconds until Cas is writhing on him, trying to push him away.
Dean is hurt and confused, until he realises why.
Oh.
The wings. The wings that are burned onto the ground whenever an angel dies. Resolutely, Dean refuses to move, and Cas must have seen something in his expression, because he stops struggling away and tries to come closer. A single tear slips out of his eye, and falls slowly down his cheek.
"Close your eyes." The angel's voice is low and rough, even more so than usual, and Dean knows that it reaches Sam as well. He angles his body, waiting for the burning of a brand.
The last thing Dean hears before ruby red scars of wings are painted across his torso is Cas's voice.
"I love you."