Based on this post on tumblr:
huntingwithangels
/post/58484830639
Dean feels the scream before it comes out of his mouth. It starts as a knot the size of a basketball at the pit of his stomach before it is dragged up and ripped from his mouth. He hardly recognizes his own voice; the only way he knows that he is the one screaming is because it feels like the scream was sliced out of his very soul with a rusty kitchen knife and because he screams one word. One name, actually.
"CAS!"
Castiel's eyes lock with Dean's like they always do and they hold each other's gaze for a beat. Just long enough for Dean to see the flashes of celestial light spark in Castiel's pained eyes, like a lightning storm that is fading into the distance. Dean breaks their gaze and his eyes move down from Castiel's eyes to the angel blade that has been crudely shoved into the angel's abdomen. Blue, radiant light is seeping out along with thick, red blood, creating a horrifying mixture. Dean sees red as a sudden rage crashes over him. He bellows loudly and runs fearlessly at Castiel's attacker. Dick Roman looks up from stabbing Cas and rips the blade out carelessly. Castiel whimpers, falling to his knees.
Dean runs at Dick with the bone of the nun, ready to end the son of a bitch. He flails his weapon haphazardly, not taking time to think out his swing. He just swings his arm. Dick uses the stolen blade to deflect Dean's attempt. Dean punches the leviathan in the mouth with his free hand, not caring about anything more than causing the monster pain in any form or fashion. Dick reels backwards, laughing maniacally under his breath.
"No, Dean, I expected more from you," he scolds.
Dean just frowns deeply. His eyes flash with bloodlust and the cold, merciless expression on his face causes Dick to falter for a millisecond. Dean flips the bone in his hand, dropping into a fighting stance. He is preparing to pounce, like a lithe jungle cat who has tracked down a gazelle. Dick walks fearlessly to Dean's right, stepping over Castiel. Dean's feelings betray him and his eyes move from his prey to the angel. Castiel is laying on the ground, curled in around himself. His breathing is labored and he is holding his wound tightly, but blood and light are seeping out between his fingers.
Dean gets a hold of himself and forces his gaze to fall back on Dick. The business man has stepped farther to the right and flips the angel blade in his fingers, looking slightly bored and slightly amused. "Dean, your feelings are getting in the way. You have got to learn to separate business and pleasure." Dick says, a smirk spreading across his thin lips as he gazes from Dean to the injured angel.
"Shut up." Dean snarls, teeth bared like a rabid dog. He steps protectively in front of Cas.
"Well, I think I'll leave you. After all, I have a business to run." Dick says, taking a step backwards. Dean hadn't noticed that Dick had walked so close to the door.
"Don't you run, you son of a—"
Dick pulled a gun out and shot it faster than Dean could react. He feels the bullet graze his upper, left arm and reels backwards. "Dean!" Castiel's voice is weak and laced with worry for his friend. In that moment, Dick has backtracked and is now walking away. Dean walks forward before he sees Meg suddenly round the corner ahead of Dick. Their eyes connect and Dean lifts the bone of the nun, yelling, "Hey, Dick!" Dick looks back, startled that his shot hadn't wounded the hunter more seriously. Confusion covers the monster's brow as Dean hurls the bone with as much force as he can muster up over the leviathan's head.
Dean sees realization flood the man's face and, in that same instant, Meg catches the bone and shanks it straight through the man's neck, saying, "Sorry, cupcake." Dean watches in the doorway as Dick frowns deeply at him, his form quivering. The leviathan explodes, sending black ooze everywhere. Then, he is gone. Dean frowns, noticing that Meg has disappeared with the monster. Before he can think too much about it, Castiel's labored breathing drags him out of his thoughts.
He races to where Castiel is laying on the ground before falling to his knees and gathering the angel up in his arms. "Cas, Cas!" he yells, causing Castiel's blue eyes to flutter open. The blue is fading and his gaze seems far away.
"Dean?" Castiel asks quietly, looking up at Dean's face.
"Yeah, it's me… Dammit, Cas, I'm sorry." The hunter apologizes thickly, suddenly guilt-ridden by how badly he's been treating his friend the past couple of weeks.
"It's… not your fault." Castiel struggles to get out, convulsing lightly.
"Dean!" Sam's voice comes from the end of the hallway and Dean looks up to catch his brother's eye. He knows how terrified he must look because Sam freezes and whispers, "Oh, no."
Dean looks back to Cas as Sam gallops into the room. "I'll fix you, Cas… You're gonna be okay. We'll get you all stitched up, alright?" he says as a tear spills out of his eye.
He pulls Castiel's bloody hands away from his would and a bright light pierces his human eyes, but he stares into it, trying to assess the wound. And it's bad. Dean knows that he can't stitch it up immediately. He swallows a lump building in his throat. "It's not even that bad." He lies. It's the same thing he said to Sam.
"Dean…" Sam breathes when he sees the wound, and by saying that word, he conveys to Dean 'we can't save him.'
"Call 9-1-1, Sam!" Dean yells defensively up at his brother as he lifts Castiel up off the cold, tile floor. The angel moans from the movement, a light flashing, briefly exposing his black wings hanging limply from his body and dragging the ground.
Sam just says, "Let's get him outside to the Impala."
"Dean…" Castiel interrupts, lifting his head from where it lay on Dean's shoulder. Dean stops midstride. "Put me down."
"No, Cas," Dean protests. "We're getting you out of here."
Castiel musters all his energy and places a hand on Dean's chest, pushing slightly. "You have to get away from me!" he cries, face contorting in pain as he pushes again. Blood oozes out in a spurt as Castiel struggles.
"Cas! Stop!" Dean orders brokenly.
"You both need to get away from me!" Castiel looks at Sam and Dean pleadingly. "I don't… I can't hurt you!"
"What do you mean?" Sam asks with a sad look.
"When I… when angels die, our wings… They burn." Castiel explains between ragged breaths. He places a hand on Dean's face, caressing it softly. "You have to let me go."
Dean starts heading down the hallway, determined to get to the impala. "I'm not leaving you, Cas," he says, voice breaking over the angel's name.
"Dean…" Castiel struggles, gasping in air, "let me… go…"
Dean shakes his head as the light begins to expand out of Castiel's wound. "You aren't gonna die alone, Cas." He says, shaking his head, gripping the angel close to his body, trying to walk faster without jostling Cas too much. Sam is a few yards ahead, keeping an eye out for other leviathans. Castiel's hands are against the Dean's chest, pushing with what little force he has left.
"Dean!... Please!" Castiel begs with a thin voice.
Sam yells Dean's name. "He's running out of time!" the tall man says with fear as he shields his eyes as the light begins to surge.
"I ain't leavin' him, Sam!" Dean shouts, holding Castiel as the angel struggles in his arms.
"Dean…" Castiel is crying. Crying. "I can't… I can't…"
"Why do you give a damn about me, Cas?" Dean implores brokenly. He closes his eyes and stops momentarily as another bright surge of light pours from the wound, lighting up the whole main lobby. "Why? You need to worry about you."
"Because… Dean…" Castiel's words are breathy and he is gazing at Dean, the light in his eyes returning as he finishes strongly, "I love you."
That seems to take a lot out of him because, as soon as he finishes saying it, his wound explodes in a bright light and his eyes and mouth start lighting up as well. His head drops heavily against Dean's chest and Dean sees Cas scrunch up his face, pushing the light back down into him; trying so hard not to die. So he wouldn't hurt Dean. His head droops a little more and when he looks up at Dean again, his eyes are more grey than blue, the lightning storm growing more violent behind his lashes. "Now… Let… me go." Castiel tries to sound intense; tries to order Dean to do so.
Dean shakes his head, lips pulled down as he tries to contain his sobs. Castiel, angel of the Lord, loved him? Him? He is overwhelmed and awestruck and amazed that Cas feels that way. "I'm not leaving you." Dean finally says.
Castiel pushes against Dean, bending away as much as he can, but Dean clings to Cas. They struggle, Castiel pushes with what little strength he has left and Dean clutches the angel tightly. "Cas, stop, please!" he struggles to carry Cas outside. Sam has the car running and is opening the door to the backseat. Dean is two yards away. Cas shoves against Dean—hard. Dean fumbles so as not to drop Cas. "Dammit, Cas!" Dean bellows defeatedly, dropping to his knees in the lot. He grips onto Cas tightly as he sobs.
"I can't lose you," he tells the dying angel. Castiel's eyes barely register confusion as he looks up at Dean. "You're family… I need you." Dean admits, struggling to suck up his tears.
"Dean…" Castiel whimpers, his eyes are alight, shining on Dean. "You have to get away from me…"
"No." Dean denies Castiel a last time, stroking the angel's soft black hair. "Cas… I…"
"Goodbye, Dean. " Castiel sniffles weakly before his eyes light up completely. His hands quit pushing on Dean's chest.
"I love you!" Dean shouts between gritted teeth as Castiel's head lolls backwards, sending beams of light from his eyes, nose, and mouth. His wound is alight as well and, for a brief second, the lights fade. In that second, Sam screams his brother's name, but Dean doesn't register it. He grips Castiel close and then, the angel's lights shoot out like an explosion. The entire lot is white from light. Dean and Sam close their eyes against the blast, but Dean feels Castiel's wings. He feels the fire against his flesh, burning through his layers of clothing. And Dean screams. But instead of letting go of what was searing into his chest, Dean grips Castiel closer. Because maybe he will be lucky enough to burn to death. Instead, Dean feels the fire die out and sees the light disappear behind his closed eyelids. His chest is badly burnt, but Dean is numb at the moment. He grips Castiel's body close, doubling over it as his shoulders shake convulsively.
"Don't leave me. Don't you leave me, you bastard!" he hollers at the angel's limp form.
"Dean! Dean! Are you okay?" Sam is suddenly gripping Dean's shoulders, but Dean just shakes his head and cries over his angel.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He weeps over Castiel. The numbness is wearing off and he feels the pain across his chest as though he was just tossed into a barbecue pit. But he just grinds his teeth together. He stays like that for twenty minutes, just hunched over Cas's body. The tears slowly stop. But he stays like that. Hoping that he'll get one more miracle. That Cas will be brought back one more time.
"Dean, c'mon…" Sam finally says, reaching to pry Dean into a sitting position.
Dean jerks out of Sam's grips, regretting doing so due to the pain across his upper body and from the expression on Sam's face. "I got him." Dean whispers brokenly, struggling to stand with Castiel draped in his arms. The angel's left hand dangles loosely. Sam sees Dean's chest—the burnt off clothing, the bubbling and blistering and bleeding skin—and he rakes a hand through his brown hair, fighting the urge to throw up. It's one of the most painful experiences Dean has ever endured both physically and mentally. But he carries Castiel the remaining yard to the car and places the limp body across the backseat. He closes the door before slumping against the outside of the car, the pain making his knees weak. Blood is seeping down his torso now. Sam runs to catch Dean and clasps his arms around Dean's waist, careful of the burns covering his older brothers upper arms, and chest.
Sam practically carries Dean to the passenger seat and helps get him seated. He removes his flannel top and drapes it across Dean's bleeding upper body. "Keep that on there," he says, folding Dean's arms across most of the burnt area. "Keep pressure on it, Dean, or you'll bleed out."
Dean gives Sam a look that says he doesn't care. That says he doesn't want to try anymore.
"Dean! Do it!" Sam almost yells before getting into the driver's seat and peeling out of the parking lot. Dean holds the shirt over his wound, feeling the blood seep through, warm and sticky. He looks back at Castiel's body and fights the tears that sting his eyes. Cas wouldn't want him to give up. He sets his jaw, determined to get his crap together for Sam… And for Cas.
"I'm sorry," Dean finally breathes before passing out.
Sam sighs, wondering if his brother is apologizing to him or to Castiel.
"I won't give up, Sammy," Dean says quietly. "Cas wouldn't have wanted me to."
"Good, Dean… I- I know that Cas meant a lot to you and I'm sorry…" Sam wearily says, his face looking like a puppy lost in the rain.
"I loved him, Sam," Dean admits finally. "I loved him and… I should'a told him…"
"You did tell him…?" Sam says, glancing from the empty road to his brother.
"He was… He was gone already," Dean turns away from Sam, screwing his face up as he sucked in a sob. His chest protests at the movement.
"I think he heard you." Sam voices his opinion, gaining a questioning look from Dean. He elaborates, "He may not be… an angel anymore, but whatever. He's in Heaven now. Probably chilling with Bobby and Ash in the bar… I mean, angels have to go to Heaven when they die."
Dean nods, only half-believing his younger sibling. "I just wish I had told him sooner… When he was still with me," he murmurs quietly, slowly slipping out of consciousness.
Sam takes Dean to a hospital that was closest to Roman Enterprises. They keep him in the burn unit for one and a half weeks before releasing the hunter. They say the wound will scab up and be uncomfortable and that they're sorry, but the scar will remain forever. As the scabs start to flake off, Dean notices that in some of the places at the edges of the burn, he can see the distinct fibers that certain feathers had singed into his skin. The doctors are correct in that the scar doesn't go away. Sure, over a few months, it is not as red from the heat, but it is still as prominent as it was the first day. Every time he showers or changes shirts, Dean sees the scar. So, for awhile, he doesn't change shirts unless it is absolutely necessary and doesn't look at himself when he bathes. He never takes his clothes off in front of anyone and he makes sure he wears tops with sleeves that cover his entire bicep.
Because he doesn't like lying about what happened. He doesn't like when people ask, "Now, how'd you get a scar like that?" In a few years, he begins wearing short sleeves again because no one can really tell the scars on his arms are part of a large scar that looks like a pair of wings. He is finally able to look himself in the mirror a year and a half after the accident. The memory still hurts just as bad and it stings a little too much to see the scar again. Sam doesn't ask what's wrong when he finds the mirror shattered the next day. He knows. But he also knows that Dean is finally starting to heal.
Two years after the incident, Dean finds himself crying as he installs a new mirror. The scars peek out from his rolled up sleeves and he curses himself for looking at the feathers too closely. He finally screws in the last corner and falls to his knees. "Cas, buddy?" he asks, head bowed. "You got your ears on?"
And there, on the bathroom floor, Dean prays to his angel.