Castiel´s eyes wander over the body of Dean Winchester where he is sitting in a hard, steel chair in the otherwise empty room. His arms are cuffed to the armrests, warding sigils expertly engraved into the silver of the cuffs. The chair is standing in the exact middle of a devil's trap.
He got lucky Dean can actually be contained like this. There was no way of knowing and it was a mere guess on Castiel´s part. The only option, to be honest, was to just try. He had to use all but the last of his stolen grace the entrap Dean and he feels weaker than ever. Only the last pieces of the grace are holding him safely encased into Jimmy Novak's body. He will die soon. Sooner than anticipated. There's one thing to hope for; he needs to outlive the time it takes him to cure his hunter. He needs to live through it, if only to give his dying spirit the peace to die knowing Dean Winchester is once again human.
So now Castiel finds himself focusing on staying alive for four more hours; Long enough to give Dean the last shots of human blood to cure him. hopefully. Even with this cure, it's not foolproof. Dean is no normal human and Castiel is not, either. But using Sam was out of the question; the younger Winchester brother was tainted with demon blood.
In the room Dean is screaming angrily to no one in particular. He can't see Castiel standing at the other side of the door to the hallway. He knows, though. He knows Castiel is there.
"You won't succeed," the demon voice inside of Dean hisses. It's so much lower than Dean's actual voice; a constant reminder of what the person sitting there really is now the loss of Cas' grace makes him unable to see the demon face behind the human one. It makes him look human but for the black eyes, piercing into Castiel´s every time they look at him.
"I am not a regular demon. You are weak, Angel. You won't be able to live long enough to ruin me. Your blood will expire inside of me and nothing will be able to keep me here for good when you're gone." The whole sentence sounds like one long screech in that too low voice. Castiel hopes he lives long enough to hear Dean's voice itself. He hopes the cure works. If it doesn't work, he's going to have to kill Dean.
His fingers trace the Angel blade stashed inside his trench coat pocket. It feels cold against his finger tips. Maybe if he has to kill Dean he can kill himself in the same second with the same blade at the same place. He would feel better not having to look at the dead body of the man he loves. Death is inevitable now so he doesn't want to drag it out any longer than he has to.
Castiel´s eyes skip to the clock hanging above the door and he sighs deeply, taking out the syringe to take more of his own blood. When he walks into the room demon Dean snarls, pulling on the cuffs keeping him to the chair. Instead of looking into the pitch black eyes of the demon, Castiel plunges the needle into his neck emitting a growl from the man in front of him before his body goes limp into the chair, hanging in it just by the cuffs holding him in place.
It had started after the second batch; the hate gone for just that tiny bit of a second. Sometimes a scream of pain, sometimes the loss of consciousness. That was five hour ago. With only three to go, the time for Dean to recover into demon mode is longer every time. Hopefully eight is enough, even with the mark still shining red as ever on the hunter's arms.
Castiel turns around, all the while keeping himself from glancing at the demon and walks away before Dean can go back to his previous feverish screaming state. He doesn't expect the soft breath behind him nor the little whine of pain. When Castiel glances back he takes in a sharp breath at the green eyes staring back at him, face scrunched up in pain. Castiel has to will himself to look away and walk on.
"Cas," a soft, low voice says. There's an edge somewhere in there. Castiel stops dead in his tracks, frozen on the spot, breath puffing out from between his lips, his head seemingly locked upon that one, small word. His hand slips off the angel blade he'd been holding in his pocket. Dean hadn't called him that since before he died.
"Cas please." Castiel does not turn around. Castiel should not turn around. He balls his hands into fists, straining from walking back and pulling Dean into his arms to feel the real Dean. But he doesn't walk away. He's still frozen on the spot. This is his Dean. His Dean. It has to be a trick. It needs to be trick. Castiel can already feel the still foreign feelings driving through his whole body, his heart pumping loudly. Black spots in front of his eyes. He is not used to human reactions because when he was simply an angel with a vessel, they weren't there.
"Please," Dean begs him, "please kill me." It's Dean's voice, alright. Clear as day. Dean's real voice. And he's begging Castiel to kill him. This is his Dean and he wants him to kill him.
Castiel finally turns around, looking into the eyes of the hunter that had been gone for so long.
"Hello Dean," Castiel says in his low voice. Instead of saying anything back however, Dean's eyes grow wild and he snarls and screams at him.
Castiel retreats as fast as he can, leaving Dean in the room by himself and he lets his body rest against the closed door. His thoughts are racing. That was Dean, the real Dean and he asked Castiel to kill him. Dean wants to Dean for some noble, stupid reason. Castiel feels his whole body trembling and his hand skims the angel blade. He takes it out of his pocket and looks at the silver. He can't kill Dean without knowing for sure he can't be cured. But when will he know if he can't be? He has to kill Dean if he can't be cured, but there's no way of knowing before the eight shots have been given and Castiel is not sure he can live much longer.
When Castiel returns an hour later, full syringe in his hand, he feels very obviously weaker. His limps feel heavy and his head feels lighter. He has to be his upper best not to trip.
After shooting up Dean with the blood, he sits down outside of the devil trap to wait, not sure if he can keep standing for too long. Dean is slumped into his chair but this time Castiel can see the little transformation. He wakes up with a start, his face screwed up in hurt, his green eyes searching Castiel´s face.
"Don't you dare die for me, Cas," Dean whispers softly. Castiel´s heart skips a beat.
"My death is inevitable. I will die one way or another. I will gladly give up time to cure you."
"Don't you say that Cas. I'm not worth your death." His voice is shaking, his hand balling into fist.
"There's no choice; I will die. If I kill you, I will also die. I won't live any longer if I kill you. While there is any hope left for your cure, you cannot ask me to kill you," Cas says determined. Dean is staring at him with that damn stubborn look into his eyes.
"Dean," Cas tells his hunter, "There's nothing that can save me. I will die. Our only hope is I will last another two hours." Dean's eyes close, for a moment deep emotional pain is shown on his face before it fades with a snap. When he opens them, his eyes are black. He screeches a bloodcurdling scream. Castiel gets up carefully and sways to the door. Every single shot of blood makes him weaker. Two to go.
After injecting the next time, Castiel´s knees give in and he collapses inside of the devil's trap. His eyes wander over Dean's body and stay on his arm. The mark is still visible as ever. If he cures him, Dean has to figure out a way to get rid of it himself. It won't just go away with the cure.
"Castiel," a soft voice says and the former angel looks up at his hunter. As expected, Dean looks at him with his Dean eyes and his Dean expression and his voice is Dean. If anything, Cas is thankful for being able to meet with Dean through these minutes of the demon being gone. If he doesn't live a second past curing Dean, at least he's had these minutes.
He realises he's too close to Dean the second he feels fingers softly stroking the back of his hand. Castiel´s eyes snap up to Dean's face. His stare is intense. Not just intense. There's something hidden there Castiel has always wanted to find but never did.
"Cas," Dean whispers, "I won't let you die. I won't do it. I will get you back. I will always get you back," his voice quivers with hope, "Me and Sammy, we will get you back." A pang of pain shoots through Castiel´s chest.
"There's nothing left to safe. After burning up my grace, all that will be left of me ever existing is the broken vessel of jimmy Novak. Dean. You can't save me. Not this time."
Castiel can see it happening a second before it does. Every time he gets just a bit more time with his own Dean. He's too close. He feels the grip of the demon turn into iron on his hand and with the last of his energy; Castiel pulls his hand back and stumbles out of the room.
When he injects the blood for the last time, Dean whines softly.
"Come here, Cas," he says softly. Castiel walks into his personal space without hesitation.
"Touch me-," Dean says and Castiel lifts his hand, the tiny movement costing him too much energy but he doesn't stop. He softly places his hand on Dean's cheek and he closes his beautiful green eyes.
"Open your eyes, Dean; please I want to see them." Green eyes look up into blue eyes. They stare at each other like so many times before but this time they know what it means.
"Go back," Dean says softly, "before it happens again." He lifts his chin in an effort to shoo Cas away and Castiel listens, stepping outside of the devils trap. Five more minutes pass and they keep looking, keep staring. There will be no tomorrow. Only one hour. And it's ticking away. Castiel can feel it. He doesn't even get up when the demon starts screaming again. He just sits there, angel blade in his left hand, his right hand still tingling from the touch on Dean's cheek. He blocks out the screaming and wills himself to keep on going, to hold on to life for just that little bit longer.
When Dean gets cured, he will find Cas dead and Sam a monster and Castiel feels sorry for his hunter to make him face that on it's own but there's nothing Cas can do. He will die and he will die soon.
When the hour is over, it's all Cas has to even slide the angel blade over his palm to draw blood and remember the words he has to say. Luckily, the demon in Dean is too weak; sagged down in the chair and held by the cuffs full of warding signs.
Very softly, Castiel says the words, his voice shaking along with his whole body. He can literally feel his life drain away with every word. He speak the words quickly, just to get it over with and then he presses his palm against Dean and he screams and Castiel screams along with him, both voices low but loud.
He feels his knees give in and his hand slip from Dean's mouth after the last word has been spoken.
"No!" he wants to scream, but it comes out softly and without power. He falls back, unable to hold steady and lands on his back, half in and half out of the devil's trap. His bloody arm next to his body.
"Dean," he says very softly. He hears ripping of Cuffs. He hears agonizing screams. It didn't work. No, Castiel thinks in panic, it didn't work. He's going to die and it didn't work.
He hears the cuffs ripping and the chair clattering on the floor. His eyes have closed on their own accord and he has to peel them open. He feels rather than sees Dean's body come down on the floor close to him with a soft thud. He feels Dean's knees against and between his legs; he feels a hand over his arm.
Only then, Dean's face comes into view. Dean's amazing face with green eyes but blood smeared all over his mouth. His left hand holding him up, hovering his whole body over Castiel´s body, his right hand on Castiel´s cheek, the thumb stroking the skin on his temple.
"Cas," the voice says. It's his Dean. If this Dean could break loose and reach Castiel, whose head is outside of the Devil's trap, that means it worked. Castiel is dying but it worked. He's leaving a human Dean behind.
A small smile plays on his lips.
"Dean," he says softly. Dean's green eyes stare into his and Castiel´s hand finds Deans next to him.
"Dean you're back. Dean." He can't say anything else. He feels the energy fading.
"Cas. I will get you back. I promise," Castiel wants to say something back, but dean's hand covers his lips. "Don't. I will. Don't say anything." But Castiel shakes his head. He needs to say something.
In stead of letting him talk, Dean removes his hand only to replace them with his lips. Cas opens his eyes further in shock, his lips moving against Dean's on their own like an instinct.
"Don't you dare say goodbye Cas," Dean says, his lips moving against Castiel´s, a soft whisper of a sound. Castiel can taste salt.
A ragged breath. A soft kiss. Tears mingling together. Castiel breaths, softly, he places his hand on the hand on his face. Just carefully, he strokes Dean's hand. Their eyes meet for one last time. Their lips linger against each other. A breath is breather into Dean's mouth but not followed with a second one.
"Don't you worry Cas," Dean says against his Angel's now still lips, "Just rest because when you get back, you will not leave me again." Lips stroke softly over Castiel´s pulse point, a tear falling on the angel's cheeks. A soft voice whispers "Cas," before blue eyes get closed and one last kiss is given.
The Hunter gets up.
His Angel will be saved.