Disclaimer: Characters belong to Eric Kripke. I am merely playing with the pretties for a while.
A/N: Title taken in part from a Trivium song - "Like Callisto to a Star in Heaven" Plus my spell checker does not recognize Castiel, which is close to blasphemy. written for a challenge on LiveJournal community spn_teamfic, word prompt blood.
To a Star in Heaven
Castiel supported Dean as they both walked haltingly into the en-suite bathroom to the Winchester's current motel room. Sam had already gone, face still holding grave concern for his brother, sent away by the angel to get medical supplies, such as bandages, and as many salves as Sam could think of. It had taken some convincing on Castiel's part to actually get the younger Winchester to leave, who wanted to stay with his brother, but reason had won out in the end. Castiel himself could not go, as he had no money to pay for supplies, and he was not about to steal, not even for Dean. Sam had the money, so it was Sam who had to go.
And go he did, leaving Castiel alone with an injured Dean, the elder Winchester's clothes covered in blood and slightly groggy from blood loss and receiving a blow to the head. Castiel was worried, his loyalty to Dean now being pushed to the limits, hating to see the hunter, his hunter, this way. He did not want Dean to die.
He supported Dean, propping him slightly against the wall, as he carefully peeled blood soaked clothes from Dean's body, discarding them on the floor with a wrinkled nose look of disgust. Dean's body was covered in deep wounds, gashes, the blood making them look worse than they actually were through the intensity of the colour and the amount of it.
Castiel blew a deep exhalation through tortured lips, before he turned the shower on, twisting one hand in a circular motion to turn the faucet on, without taking his eyes from Dean in front of him.
"Cas," Dean said, words squeezing past tortured lips, against the pain racking his body. "Cas, please make it stop."
"I will try, Dean, you can count on that," Castiel promised Dean, eyes darting up to meet Dean's.
He could not hide his concern from the hunter, did not want to, wanted his emotions laid bare and revealed to Dean, if to no one else. After all, Dean was the one that mattered to the angel, and Dean was the one who was hurt, bloodied and torn by the ferocity of a werewolf.
Castiel ran questing hands over Dean's body, wishing he had been able to get to Dean and Sam before the hunt had gotten this bad so quickly. He was thankful that Sam had been able to kill the werewolf before he'd bitten Dean, or worse, killed him. He was thankful for that at least.
"This shouldn't have happened," he murmured aloud, more to himself than to Dean, but Dean still heard.
A painful chuckle erupted from between mirthless lips, and Dean struggled to speak past the pain.
"You couldn't have stopped it, Cas," he said. "Not even you could stop that."
"Maybe not, but I will try and help now," Castiel said, this time not looking up at Dean, just stared ahead, looking without seeing, knowing what he was going to do, what had to be done.
"What can you do, Cas? There's nothing you can do for me, not now," Dean said, bitterness lacing his words, making the angel flinch, even though he knew the bitterness was not aimed at him.
"I can do something. Do you trust me?" he asked, gaze finally meeting Dean's suddenly curious one.
"You know I do. What are you going to do?" Dean asked, confusion, curiosity taking the edge away from his pain for the briefest of moments.
"Bear with me, Dean. Whatever happens next, try not to flinch. This will be over all too soon, I promise," Castiel said, visibly steeling himself for what he was about to do.
Dean bent his head, watching with curiosity, as Castiel leant forward, hesitantly at first, pressing lips against Dean's bare skin, tongue lapping at the blood, licking it away and leaving a warm, tingling sensation behind in his wake. Everywhere that Castiel went, every part of Dean's body that Castiel's tongue touched, was licked clean of all traces of blood, wounds slowly knitting together with painful little twists and jerks. Dean's breath hissed and whistled uncomfortably in his chest, through clenched teeth, trying not to scream past the pain of all too slowly healing wounds, as he knew that Castiel was trying to help him after all.
Castiel's worried gaze flickered up to meet Dean's, but he carried on, did not stop, as he had no other choice. He wanted Dean to be healed, wanted Dean to be whole again, and it was in his power to do this for him. He could not let Dean suffer willingly.
His tongue passed over a particularly deep wound, making Dean buck against him, a cry of anguished pain squeezing out from Dean's tightly clenched lips, and only then did Castiel pause. He waited until Dean calmed a little, before lapping gently at the wound, tongue working over the wound, lips sucking slightly as the wound slowly knitted itself together, scar healing all too slowly in it's wake.
Dean's fingers clenched on Castiel's shoulder, digging into the flesh there, but Castiel bore it willingly, attention mostly taken up with trying to heal his hunter. The angel's fingers ghosted across bare skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake that had nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with undisguised lust. The more wounds that were healed by Castiel's powers, the more Dean noticed how sensual the experience was.
The sensations of healing were almost enough to send Dean over the edge as it was; the tingling sensations coursed through him, seemingly setting every nerve ending alight from his brain right down to his groin. He moaned through half parted lips, and when Castiel paused again, Dean protested.
"Don't stop, Cas, please don't stop," he said, almost begged, not wanting the experience to stop despite the initial pain.
He was enjoying the feel of Castiel's tongue licking languidly, almost cat like across his skin, leaving wet warmth in its wake, which was kissed dry by soft lips, attentive hands following in the wake of gentle kisses and Dean groaned again, murmuring Castiel's name to the ceiling. His body reacted; craved more of Castiel's attentions than he was getting and Dean succumbed to the feelings, welcomed them in, cock growing hard at the feel of Castiel's attentions. Steam from the shower swirled around them, and Dean breathed in its cloying warmth, almost choking upon it, but it was far from the distraction it should have been.
He didn't even notice that Castiel had finished, had healed all of his wounds until the angel was standing before him, leaning into him, to press urgent lips to Dean's own, lacing fingers into the hunter's hair.
Dean responded, moaning into Castiel's mouth, hands resting gently upon Castiel's hips, possessively. He was left breathless when Castiel ended the kiss, pulling almost reluctantly away, to stare into Dean's eyes as though checking to see if Dean was really alright. The elder Winchester smiled slightly, bravely; his attempt at showing Castiel just how alright he was feeling.
"I'm alright, Cas," he said, confirming it in words. "And thank you."
Castiel nodded his slow nod of assent, eyes locked on Dean's, hands still clutched in Dean's hair, trembling slightly, but he did not say anything.
The door banged shut in the main room outside, announcing the arrival of Sam, carrying the requested medical supplies, no doubt. Dean and Castiel shared a grin, before Dean commented upon it.
"I don't think we need those bandages any more. How the hell are we going to explain this to Sam?" he asked.
"I'll think of something, don't worry," Castiel assured him. "Just go take a shower. The water's lovely!"
Dean grinned at that, before Castiel left him to head off Sam's curious questions. Dean was left alone to take a shower; easing still slightly aching muscles beneath soothingly warm water, marvelling at the powers of an angel's touch, an angel's healing attentions. He wondered if Castiel would do the same for Sam, but he doubted it. He seriously doubted it.
Castiel was his angel and his alone; like to a star in Heaven, he would always look to Castiel for protection, love, peace: everything he couldn't find anywhere else. Not even Sam could give him that, and Dean was surprised to find that he was content with that.
To a star in Heaven indeed ...