Supporting the Broken
Dean knew he should be at home with Lisa and Ben. He knew he shouldn't have gone off half-cocked on a hunt. He knew he shouldn't be going after a zombie on his own.
He also supposed Bobby might've been right the last time he chewed Dean out and mentioned "suicidal tendencies".
None of that mattered, though, 'cause he was already here, and another idiot nerd had gone and brought back the cheerleader he'd been hot for probably since puberty.
Also, he was getting a little woozy from being thrown into one headstone after another. At least he'd gotten the bitch back to the cemetery. But the whole staking her in her coffin thing was not going well. His back and head hit and cracked another granite marker, and he felt his spine snap. For a moment, he was relieved when all the pain stopped, then horrified when he realized that it wasn't just pain - he couldn't feel anything from the neck down.
Then the pale figure closed in and Dean shut his eyes. Apologies ran through his head.
Be good, Ben. Take care of your mom. Guess you were right, Bobby. Sorry, Sammy, I just couldn't do it without you.
And finally:
Damn Cas, I wish you were here, dude.
Which was when there was a flash of bright light, and a high-pitched, rage filled scream. Slowly, his eyes came open again and Dean was equal parts grateful, pissed and disappointed to see Cas standing over the burnt out monster chick's corpse.
"Dude, seriously?"
A familiar head tilt. "Dean, why does it appear you are trying to be killed?"
The hunter just glared.
Trenchcoat flapping behind him, the angel strode over to crouch beside Dean, and finally appeared to take in the man's current physical situation.
"Are you injured?"
This was met with a disbelieving snort. "Does it matter? I lost Sam, I lost Adam, and I've been failing miserably at this whole lame, apple-pie life for a friggin' year. Where the hell have you been, Cas?"
Ignoring this, Castiel reached out to place a hand over the bicep which still bore his mark. Burning heat followed by freezing cold poured through Dean in half a moment and he wanted to cry or break something.
He was healed.
Cas reached down to help Dean up, but the man shoved the hand away and pushed himself to his feet. As he tried to pass the angel, Castiel grabbed his arm strongly and forced him to stop.
"Dean, why do you wish to die?"
"Don't ask me that, Cas," he growled back, trying to tug free. "You were there. You know why."
"You are stronger than your grief-"
"No I'm not!" The tears finally forced their way out as he clenched his fists and bit into his lip to stop himself saying more.
Castiel stepped even closer into Dean's personal space than normal, making no attempts to touch the hunter - merely being there, as he hadn't for the past year.
Finally, the crying stopped and Dean took a series of deep, gulping breaths, hurriedly brushing the salty trails off his face. His voice was rough, though he tried to make it sound normal. "Good to see ya, Cas. Later."
A single, aborted movement to leave and the angel's arms and wings (Dean couldn't see them, but somehow he could feel them) wrapped tightly around him.
"I am sorry that I failed to see your pain, Dean. We broke you, and I apologize."
He tried, dammit!, he tried to remain in place, then gave in, leaning heavily against the shorter being. He was seconds from a total collapse, but Castiel continued to hold his weight.
"I will put aside my other responsibilities until such time as you are healed. I should have come sooner and I failed in this. I will not ask you for forgiveness. I have not yet earned it. But I swear I will remain with you until I have earned that consideration."
The cool, mostly unemotional voice washed over Dean's exhausted body and frenzied mind.
Someone to support him.
He'd never had that before. Sam had tried, and Bobby did his best, but in the end it was always everyone else depending on him.
Castiel's offer was just about the best thing he had ever heard, and even if he wasn't hugging back, he didn't want the angel to release him.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah. Okay."
There was a rustle of sound like wings and wind, and when it cleared, the two men were gone.
The night was hushed and peaceful, and the distant stars shown a pale light down on the earth.
…
a/n I don't currently have plans to continue this, but I may come back to it, as it's been poking me to pay attention off and on since I wrote it. We'll see.