A/N: It is important to realize that this fic will be DESTIEL. It shall start out as a little one-sided Sassy, but no one gets heartbroken. There have been misconceptions.
Sometimes he felt like an older brother. This was a ridiculous notion of unimaginable proportions, but that hadn't stopped Castiel from feeling it from time to time. There was one time when Castiel's best friend in the entire world, Sam Winchester, had fallen down a flight of stairs in an abandoned warehouse they were exploring on a blistery Saturday afternoon. It had taken mere moments for Castiel to fling himself the rest of the way down and try to peer his way around a moaning Sam to find out how, exactly, he was injured. It was then that Sam passed out with a low wail of agony, one that continued into his unconsciousness and rose again sporadically every time he jerked on his own or Castiel tried to find the source of his pain.
Castiel had been so frantic that he started to cry, Sam wasn't privy to the world around him; thus no help to answering the question that kept thrumming through Castiel's head: what do I do?
Sam screamed again, louder than the last time, increasing Castiel's worry. A new idea popped into the young pre-teens head; while he couldn't leave Sam alone to go find help, Sam had a cell phone that Castiel could surely use to summon someone to them.
Castiel glanced down to where Sam laid, face scrunched up in pain and curled in on himself and shivering in his plaid shirt despite the ridiculous heat that still permeated the air. Sam's phone was on his person, but Castiel wasn't sure he could get to it without seriously causing the male pain. This thought made Castiel worry his bottom lip, averting his eyes from the shaking form of his best friend.
Bright blue eyes landed on a small lump on the stairs, drawing Castiel towards it. His eyes widened, by some miracle of heaven it was the cell phone, tears swarmed his eyes yet again, spilling over as he picked up the device, flipping it open as he had seen Sam do on countless occasions.
Through the blur of tears Castiel tried to figure out the phone, pressing buttons and constantly being amazed at what they were doing. The groans and screams coming from the man lying beside him were the only things that kept the teen prowling through the infuriating device. Eventually he hit what could only be Sam's contact list, not very full and Castiel only coherent enough to put two names to their faces; Dean and Sam's father.
Castiel hovered over the send button on Sam's dad's number, wondering stupidly if he should call and get them both in trouble. Biting his lip he moved the bright indicating bar down one, to the only other name he knew and hit send without thinking.
"Dean." He heard himself croak as the click indicated someone answering their phone. The tears that had stopped flowing from his face as Castiel fiddled with the little piece of technology that he couldn't stand, welled up in his eyes once more making his mouth feel much to wet and his tongue much to heavy to properly speak.
Castiel was sure that Dean was saying something though he couldn't understand it through the sound of blood rushing through his ears. "Dean." He simply said, shutting the older male up with the muffled call of his name. "Help." Castiel managed, wincing as Sam screamed again as he threw himself onto his stomach and hollered his pain into the crippling concrete.
Dean's voice became more hysteric at that, more insistent and demanding, enticing Castiel to pay attention enough for him to hear what sounded like 'where?' but could have easily been nearly anything else.
"The warehouse" he choked out through an impossible amount of mucus pooling in his throat and swelling into his mouth. "the one in the yellowed field." Castiel wasn't even sure if he was truly being coherent. It would be a miracle if Dean could understand him, but the Castiel soon heard low, soft noises that were made to be soothing before the low rumble of an engine percolated through their connection and Castiel let the phone drop, Dean was on his way.
He looked down to where Sam lay; panting as every breath laboured him. Castiel couldn't tell you when he had bothered to shuffle his way towards Sam, but he was here now, peering over the teen, a hand resting on the unconscious teens shoulder blade, unsure if it was supposed to be a gesture of comfort or simply to give him something to do, to anchor himself to the Earth and to know that this was actually happening; real.
Castiel isn't sure how much time had passed before Dean pulled him away from his moaning brother, leaning over his kin and ensuring that he was okay before turning to Castiel, the tears having long ago dried from his face but the tracks still clear on his pale face.
"…tiel?" blue eyes turned to Dean, wide with wonderment and the impossibility of the situation. Sam was strong, always had been, never having to question himself and seeing the best in those around him even when Castiel wrote them off as meet sinners or irritants.
Castiel opened his mouth, willing himself to say something in response, when nothing came he merely closed it again and remained staring up at Sam's savior.
Dean said something, the words falling soundlessly around Castiel who made no move to question or comment on them and stayed there, starring at Dean until the elder male gingerly fingered his way around Sam's body until he was in a position to pick him up, touching as little as possible as delicately as possible yet Sam still screamed, the volume of the noise sounding less harsh, less real in the midst of his saving as if knew that things were soon to be fine.
Dean returned shortly after, pushing at Castiel's shoulder until the teen looked at him, feeling utterly useless and dumb under the stunning, worried green gaze that had come to their rescue.
The more Castiel thought about it, the stupider his choices had seemed. Adults had, since a ridiculously young age, always praised Castiel for his reasoning and level head no matter the situation. This didn't seem to be the case when it came to Sam. When it came to the youngest Winchester, he was frantic and spontaneous. For Castiel this is the first time he has ever felt so completely useless.
Still, Dean lead a barely responsive Castiel out of the building and towards his sleek, black car that was surreptitiously laying in wait in the midst of the yellowed weeds. Blue eyes raked over the tire tracks left by the vehicle, but didn't think much of them. Castiel didn't think quite so much of anything at the moment. Didn't feel either.
Castiel climbed into the passenger seat, the door opening to a low moan from Sam. Castiel's eyes trailed from Dean, now getting into the drivers seat, and down to where Sam was trying to curl up in the back seat. He didn't feel apprehension, didn't feel the swarm of guilt he should have, didn't feel awkward about Dean's sorry hand on his knee, and he didn't feel the urgency of the situation. Castiel was empty. Had to be, if he wasn't, he couldn't be strong enough to get through this. In so many ways he felt like Sam's older brother, and in so many ways – Castiel guessed – he was.
As it turns out, Dean had taken Sam to the hospital; something that Castiel knew Sam hated and had wanted to avoid with the brothers' father. There they had taken X-rays and the process dragged on longer than it should in the mind of a 13 year old Castiel.
The afternoon had drifted into evening and Castiel had started to nod off, he hadn't had any sleep last night, the novel he was working on had enraptured him so fully that he couldn't tear himself away from the pages. A nurse finally came out. Dean stood, casting a glance to Castiel that displayed a sort of worry before following the woman through the door, leaving Castiel only half-coherent in the waiting room.
The minutes continued to tick by and the blue-eyed teen was sick of waiting. John hadn't shown up and Dean hadn't returned and, even though he knew Sam was okay he still wanted to see him! With an ugly curse he had never tested before, Castiel stood, marching through the door he had seen Dean exit through earlier and stomped down the hallway. Screw being calm!
Castiel had practically reached the end of the wing when he heard Dean's low voice calling out to him, making the teen spin on his heels and stare wide-eyed at the taller male, blue eyes staring at green, embarrassed as he realized that he had passed Sam's room awhile ago.
Castiel stomped back, ears red, turning into the room and sensing Dean follow him back in.
"I thought you were leaving." Castiel commented, shifting slightly.
"I thought you had left."
Blue eyes raked over Sam's body, barely conscious on the bed, sedatives dripping into him through the IV in his arm.
"Hey." He said with a small smile, Dean quickly shushing him worriedly, chastising Sam for speaking while his voice is still soar.
Sam settles for a nod of his head, Dean knows best after all.
Castiel sighed, walking over to the chair by Sam's bed, obviously moved by the older Winchester, and sat. "I am so sorry, Sam." He looked pleadingly into Sam's big eyes, feeling worse at the expression the boy returned.
The brunette opened his mouth; about to ramble on about how it wasn't Castiel's fault that he had fallen and cracked three ribs, tore a muscle in his arm, and bruised a bone in his thigh, though a look from Dean stopped him, making Sam glare weakly before turning his eyes back to Castiel.
"I do not care, Sam, I am sorry." Castiel quickly went on to talk about how he would come and visit the boy in the hospital and reminded Sam of his home number for when he wasn't here, and even asked Sam if he wanted him to bring anything.
Do to a dirty look from Dean, Sam just shook his head no before yawning, the look on his face telling Castiel that even the small noise made from that was painful for the young boy.
Castiel squashed his guilt under a layer of calm and nodded, silencing himself until he was sure that Sam was asleep. Then, with all the grace his mother had bestowed upon him, Castiel padded out of the room, not looking at Dean and not acknowledging that the older Winchester was trying to talk to him, to offer him a ride home, to reassure him that it wasn't his fault, but Castiel didn't listen, just strode ever faster down the hallway until Dean's footsteps were no longer tailing him.
Castiel didn't notice that Dean was still watching him leave, didn't notice the look on Dean's face, but he did notice the tear that spilled onto his cheek, unfounded as it was. The truth was though, now that he was here with Sam, Castiel realized that he wasn't like a big brother at all; he couldn't carry Sam to the car despite the sounds he made, couldn't coherently walk into the hospital and request their assistance, could barely use a cell phone when he really needed to! Castiel knew that these, while being traits of caring older siblings, were not what made up a big brother, but the thing was that Castiel couldn't do any of the things that did; Castiel couldn't shut Sam up with a look, would have let the boy ramble on until he couldn't any more if it was what Sam wanted to do, couldn't kiss his forehead to make him feel safe, or grasp his hand for reassurance. These were brotherly actions, used convey love and tenderness, all things that Castiel couldn't actually do with Sam.
Castiel stopped, heart racing. Could it be? He shook his dark locks, feeling the breeze pass him but not the heat that should be making him sweat. A small thought in the back of his mind asked him when he had made his way onto the streets but he couldn't be bothered with that at the moment, the only thing he could possibly think of was the fact that such a significant realization hadn't hit him sooner.
Of course Castiel wasn't an older brother to Sam, that was Dean's job, and he and Dean were so very different. No. Castiel couldn't be Sam's older brother because, while he did love Sam, it was much different than the kind of love the boy could get from his father or brother, the kind of love Castiel could give his was entirely different. After all, Castiel was in love with Sam Winchester.