"NO!" Yelled Cas, rushing over, providing his arms as a support for Dean to fall into. Cas frantically searched the alley with his eyes, wondering what could possibly sneak up on him. But once again, the alley was empty. Cas quickly turned his attention back to the groaning Dean in his arms.

"It's ok, you'll be ok." Even though Cas spoke these words, he wasn't quite sure that he believed them himself.

Removing one arm and laying it on Dean's forehead, Cas willed for Dean to be healed. Nothing happened. Cas knew there were certain things he couldn't do now that he'd been cut off from heaven, but he didn't know that healing was one of them.

Wondering what to do, Cas decided to tend to Dean the way he'd seen humans do to each other.
"I will lift you up now," Informed Cas, not sure on what else to say. He returned his hand he'd attempted healing with back underneath Dean, who was biting his lip to stop himself from screaming. Cas stretched his legs, looking empathetically at Dean's stab wound. Coughing up blood, Dean managed two words;
"Ov-over th-there." Weakly, Dean raised an arm to point at the boarded up building, the one that had not long ago held the shadow of angel wings, of pure beauty. Cas caught on, and although he was shaking with shock, he walked at a rapid pace. One thought was racing through his mind;
Must... save... Dean...
Cas kicked at one of the boards that was concealing the secrets of the building. Luckily, Cas still had great strength, and the board snapped cleanly in two, leaving a make-do doorway. Ducking into the hole, Cas shifted Dean so he didn't smack onto the wall either side. Dean whimpered at being moved, but he didn't resist. He still had complete trust in Cas.

Lowering Dean stomach-side-down onto the cold floor, Cas searched for something more comfortable. The building was empty, however, so Cas pondered on what to do next. He noticed Dean trying to say something, but the blood was choking him. Cas ran over to him, twisting him onto his back and lifting him gently into a sitting position. Dean spat the blood on the floor and managed to say "Pressure" before falling into unconsciousness. Cas dragged Dean so he was sat upright against the wall, arms hanging loosely by his side. Lifting Dean's shirt up, Cas revealed the sore wound.

Then Cas stood up, rushing to slide his majestic coat off his arms. Scruffily folding the coat into a smallish bundle, he pressed the material onto Dean's back. Although Dean was unconscious, he still winced at the pressure. But because he'd asked for it, Cas was sure that what he was doing was right. However, Cas was clueless about what to do next. Until an idea hit him; he didn't know what to do, but he knew someone who did.

Cas reached for his pocket, before realising that his coat was covering Dean's wound. Not even thinking about it, Cas relieved himself of his jet-back suit jacket, folded it, and traded it for the coat. Cas found the pocket, and fumbled in it for his phone. Aha!

Cas clumsily scrolled down the contacts until he got to 'S'. There weren't many people, though, because Cas could track most of them. But with the unique markings he'd given Sam and Dean to hide them from both angels and demons, Cas couldn't find them with his mind. 'Sam W'. Cas phoned Sam, eagerly waiting for a reply. Voicemail. Cas was quite unaware of how voicemail worked, so he turned the phone off in dismay. Replacing the phone in the pocket of his coat, Cas wondered:
What to do now?

Deciding to tend to the basic human needs, Cas took one last look at Dean, then stepped out the door. Leaving him alone was painful, but Cas was doing what he thought best. Even so, Cas hopped back in and stroked Dean's forehead, wiping the sweat and blood away with one clean action.
"I'll be back soon," he promised. He was out the door once again, but not before giving Dean a light but passionate kiss on the cheek.