Cas deals with the emotional aftermath for Dean of the events in season 9 episode 9.

Spoilers for season 9.

Aftermath.

I thought I was ready for what I would find. That I had anticipated the state he would be in when I got to him but I was wrong. It was far worse than I had prepared for. So bad, in fact that I found myself seriously doubting that I could help him but, of course, that is not an option. I am, pretty much, all he has left so if I walk away from him now, give up on him, would he even find the strength to go on? And without him, I fear I would have no reason to exist either.

He has hardly moved from his position on the floor where he fell when my brother-within-Sam, released him. Well, only as far as to push back against the wall. He is drawn up into an almost foetal curve, his legs pulled in toward his chest with his arms tight-laced about his knees. His head is bent so I cannot really see his face but I see enough to know that even though his eyes are closed they are red from weeping and the leg of his jeans is wet from his tears.

To my relief, he is breathing fairly calmly. I know this because I see his chest moving and though it is shallow, the air whispers softly in and out of his slightly parted lips. Otherwise though, he is still. Utterly still and I am suddenly aware of how frightening I find that, for Dean is never normally still.

That is one thing I have leaned of him. One of many things for he is complex beyond reason though he does all he can to hide that from all but those very close to him.

My observations of him have allowed me to understand that he rarely rests or relaxes. He is constantly in motion, even when he sleeps he twitches and turns, mumbles and sighs. I have come to understand that this is not just a human trait but a specific foible of him. Of Dean Winchester. The perpetual protector. Forever in motion defending humanity.

So to see him now, so still and quiet is more than disconcerting.

I am unsure if he is aware of my presence. I believe our profound bond alerts him to me just as when I am close to him, my grace, or in this case my borrowed grace, vibrates with his essence, but if he is, aware that is, he does not acknowledge me in any way.

I draw closer to him but there is nothing but the quiet wheeze of his breathing.

"Dean?"

Still he does not move so I kneel beside him on the cold marble and go to reach a hand toward him.

"Don't..."

His voice is rough and quiet but it holds such emotion that it immediately stills my hand.

I wait and eventually he raises his eyes to mine and though I crave his gaze, what I see there is heartbreaking. Loss and regret war with guilt and he can hold my stare only momentarily before his focus is drawn beyond me to the cold corpse that still lays just feet away.

His face pales and I hear the breath catch within him as he takes in Kevin's broken body and I feel the raw pain that oozes from him at the Prophet's passing. It is hard to see, causes me a reciprocal agony and I am compelled to reach for him again, unsure whether it is his or my discontent I seek to assuage.

He allows my touch this time, my hand burning against his cold skin as it always does but his head remains bowed.

"You know...what happened?"

His voice is soft but tense and I nod as I answer him.

"Yes. I am aware."

He lowers his head even further and the tension in his shoulders increases as he tightens his arms around his knees.

"It's my fault..."

I can see the muscle in his jaw twitch as he grinds out his words and I open my mouth to try and find something to comfort him that he will be able to accept.

"Dean..."

It's all I manage to get out before his hand moves so suddenly to cover mine.

"Don't!"

It's a command, the word filled with the same rage that I see in his eyes as he raises his gaze back to mine.

"Don't, Cas. We both know that my decisions, my actions caused this."

His wide, wet eyes flick to Kevin and I watch helpless as his guilt burns within him. He unfolds violently from the floor, knocking me away from him as he paces the cold marble.

I could stop him. I have the strength even though, impassioned like this, he is formidable but I know better. I let him curse and shout, stand passive as he swipes treasures from the shelves and hurls all he can lay hands on to shatter against the walls.

He burns feverishly hot but it is short-lived. His breathing rapidly becomes forced, my brother's fierce hold having bruised his ribs I fear and he is compelled to slow, flinging his hand out to grab a chair back as he sways on his feet.

I stay close but do not dare to reach for him, though my hands itch to and as I watch, the fire fades as quickly as it flared. An overwhelming sadness replaces the rage and his eyes fall again to our fallen friend.

"Can you..."

I start at what he might ask of me, loathe to add to his distress with my inadequacy but his request is pathetically small.

"Can you cover him up?"

He's shaking now and I nod as I snatch an old Afghan from the sofa and drape it gently over the Prophet's cold body. I feel that I should speak some words but I find they all jam tight in my throat.

I straighten and look into Dean's eyes.

"I'm...s...sorry..."

He whispers, his voice is unsteady now, his breathing rough and patchy and I note he has wrapped one hand round his ribs. He is clearly in pain, physically and well as the heart-sickness that ripples from him.

"I know."

I respond as I step forward gently, trying to minimize anything that might appear threatening. I am an angel after all and it was a brother of mine who has wrought this upon my friends.

"You are hurt."

I am close to him now, close enough to see that he is unraveling before my eyes.

"Sam..."

His voice is barely audible and the grief that accompanies one small word nearly knocks me from my feet.

"We will find him, Dean."

I try and make my words confident even though we both know there is no real basis for such assurance but he nods graciously. The movement shakes loose his tears and I risk all to step forward and embrace him.

He does not push me away but leans his head against my shoulder and so I wrap my arms around him, as he has taught me to do for those we love.

I will be his strength for a while as I fear I no not what else I can do.

Ends

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