Hey everyone! So here's the second and final chapter of this story!
This will probably be my last fic until next week. I doubt I'll have the time to write over the weekend because I'm going on flat viewings! Exciting stuff.
I would like to thank the guest reviewer Kirsten, who pointed out my incorrect use of the word 'abject', you are completely right, I did mean 'abstract', I can only blame a brain fart xD. Thank you so much for pointing it out, I fixed it :)
This chapter also has tortured Dean because I'm clearly a monster.
Enjoy ^_^
The phone call came a few hours later. Cas placed the phone on the table and answered, they had been expecting this. Jack left the room as per their agreement. Sam and Cas had both pointed out that Asmodeus would try to get into his head, try and tempt him into doing something reckless by telling them Dean's supposed location. They assured him that they trusted him to make the right decision, but that the right decision wasn't the same as the decision that they needed to make. It was better to spare him that dilemma. Jack hadn't needed much convincing. Cas was glad of that, at least.
"So, I guess there's no point in pretending," Asmodeus drawled as soon as the call connected, "Dean clearly managed to warn you somehow. Pushed his way through the warding blocking his prayers I suspect. I'm almost impressed. Even though the effort did make him comatose for a while." There was a smirk in the voice. Sam and Castiel looked at each other, eyes echoing their own worry, "seeing as there's no… deception this time, whatever he prays won't matter. He's in Hell, of course. In the throne room. Though he will be moved shortly, many times, throughout Hell and out in the world, sporadically, no routine. Most places he won't know, one or two he might." There was a harsh bite to the word. "Not that knowing those places will help him any, nor will it help you find him. So. You have Jack."
"We do," There was no point pretending otherwise.
"Good. You will bring him to… Well… I'll send you the co-ordinates."
"We won't be coming."
There was a brief pause on the other end.
"Well, I suppose you need some extra incentive then." There was another slight pause, then a loud gasp which slowly built into a scream of absolute agony, Dean's scream. Sam's fists were shaking on the table. Cas closed his eyes as though that might block out those terrible sounds.
"For every hour you delay, it only gets worse for him," Asmodeus said, the scream finally cutting off.
Don't
The word was small, fractured and surrounded by static. Castiel flinched when it filtered through to him.
"Oh, and if you really don't show up, say I give you a maximum of twenty four hours of 'worse', then I start hunting you down. I won't kill Dean, oh no. I'll just take him, body and soul, and throw him back in the pit you rescued him from. Alistair may no longer be around, a shame, he was very accomplished, but I daresay there will be plenty of around the clock volunteers, properly warded against angels of course, not even God could break him out. And he'll stay there, for eternity."
"You son of a bitch!" Sam exploded, slamming his fist down on the table. Cas reached out to steady him. His own insides felt leaden.
"Every hour it gets worse for him," Asmodeus repeated. "Let's get back to it shall we?" The call went dead, but not before the screaming started again.
They were both shaking. Cas placed his hand over Sam's own and they sat for a few moments, united in their pain. After a few seconds, the phone buzzed with a text, the coordinates. Sam snatched it up.
"What are we going to do?" He asked in a small voice, staring at the screen before dropping the phone back on the table. Cas thought back. He thought of Dean, his smile when he had thought of his brother in Hell, his pleading green eyes as he persuaded him to wear that absurd hat, his fierce righteousness in Purgatory, slicing through any obstacle, any threat. The set of his jaw when he was angry. His scream.
Protect them.
"We run." Cas said simply.
Sam looked at him, eyes wide, astonished, hurt.
"What?" He said, in a huff of breath, as though he couldn't quite believe the words.
"We take Jack somewhere safe and hide until we find another way."
"You're serious?"
"What about my tone indicates that I'm joking?" Cas said, sharper than he had intended, "Dean told me to protect you. That's what I'm going to do."
"Cas, we have to get him back! You heard him, we can't just leave him to be tortured like-" he stopped, seemingly unable to think of a simile.
Castiel ran a hand through his hair, he understood Sam's frustration, he felt it. Anger blossomed in his chest, Dammit Dean, he thought, damn you for doing this to me.
"Sam," Cas said, standing and beginning to pace once again, "do you think this is easy for me? You think I can stand the thought of what he's going through? I can't. But we won't give Jack to Asmodeus. I won't do it. We have no other way of defeating him with the colt damaged like it is. If we show up at that place, without Jack? He'll take us too and then what could Jack do but try and save us all?"
"But, Dean-"
"If I put you and Jack in that position, do you think that Dean would ever forgive me? If I got you killed, or allowed Jack to help Asmodeus destroy the world, do you think he would ever be able to look at me again?
"This isn't about your damn pride, Cas!"
"Dean gave me a job to do." Cas said, trying to ignore how tight his chest was, "we all know he would rather be the one suffering in place of any of us."
"I don't care what he wants!" Sam roared, "we have to save him! He'd do the same for any of us! He can't expect us to just leave him."
"How exactly do you propose we save him?" Cas countered, stepping up to the taller Winchester. "Jack needs us. We can't leave him alone and if we put him in Asmodeus' path the entire world will suffer. Do you think Dean could bear being responsible for that if he somehow survives?"
"We could train Jack up, get him ready."
"We can," Castiel agreed, nodding, "but training will take time. Could be months, years, before he's ready and by that point Dean will be beyond his help."
"So you're saying we give up on him? Do you not care about him at all?"
Something snapped inside Cas and he slammed Sam against the wall.
"You think I don't care?!" He yelled, easily holding the struggling man, "you think the thought of him in Asmodeus' hands isn't killing me? You think the sound of him screaming doesn't tear me apart? I FELL for that man! I rebelled against Heaven, against my siblings and my garrison and I rejected everything I had ever known for him. Because he told me it was right. He made me believe it." Cas dropped Sam and collapsed onto the bed, head in hands, fingers clenched in his hair. "I gave up everything I had for him. If I thought it would help, I would go after Asmodeus myself. But it wouldn't help. It wouldn't get Dean back and I have Jack to consider now. I won't betray Dean's trust in me. Not this time. We have to run."
Sam sat crumpled on the floor where Cas had let him go. All the fight seemed to have drained from him. After a long moment, he nodded and stood, only to sit next to the angel. They leaned into each other, a silent comfort.
"I'm sorry I said that." Sam said eventually. "I know you care. I know want him back as much as I do."
"It's alright," Cas replied, softly, "I understand."
After a few minutes, Cas went to retrieve Jack, he was in the diner across the street but stood up from his meal immediately when Cas entered, following him back to the hotel room.
"We have to find a way back into the bunker," Sam declared when they were all gathered.
"I thought you said Asmodeus would have people watching?" Jack said, tilting his head and frowning.
"Dean couldn't have been far from the bunker when he was taken" Cas said, "it's compromised, there'll be a constant guard and Asmodeus could show up the second we're spotted."
"It's still the safest place we know," argued Sam, "There will be no way Asmodeus can get in,"
"Are there any other bunkers?" Jack asked, "ones that he doesn't know about,"
Sam frowned, considering. "There are," he said slowly, "but, we don't know where they are either. Scattered around the world probably, and we'll be too easy to find if we go to an airport."
"I think I remember reading about another bunker," Cas said, the memory floating back to him, "in the library. I read a lot while you sleep and it said something about there being a second base of operation in Montana. The Men of Letters wanted a waypoint near the Canadian border."
"Great!" Sam said, "do you remember exactly where?"
Castiel strained his mind and nodded. "There was a map. I can get us to the general area. It looked to be in a national forest of some kind, masquerading as a ski lodge or something similar."
Sam scooped up the Impala's keys from the table and they all headed out. It would take them at least seventeen hours to get there. They couldn't waste a second.
Xxx
They were going into the fourteenth hour of pain now. It was actually pretty easy to keep track, Asmodeus had had a giant digital timer brought in. Dean had made a comment about it clashing with the rest of the décor but Asmodeus had ignored that jibe and Dean had let out a gasp of pain. It spiked and ebbed unpredictably, making it impossible to predict, impossible to prepare for the surges. As the Prince of Hell had promised, there was a new dimension to the agony at each hour and Dean watched the clock, dreading for the final two numbers to click over to zero. He still couldn't move and the pressure against his chest seemed to keep him both conscious and gasping. At least he could talk now, although he did his best to stay as silent as possible.
He was consciously holding in his prayers now. He would cry out and a prayer to Cas would automatically form in his mind. He held it back. It wouldn't do anything. It would only make Cas feel like crap. Cas had to stay away, he had to keep Jack and Sam away. They had to stay safe or what was the point of anything? Another spike of pain shot through him and he bit back his moan. He remembered pain like this. All consuming, impossible to ignore or detach from. He felt every damn second and it really freakin' hurt. Where though? That was the question. The pain seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, gnawing on his lip did nothing to distract him, even when he drew blood. He guessed that Asshole-deus was messing directly with his brain. At least with Alistair there had been blood and guts and violence. This was just… cold. Asmodeus barely even looked at him, he just twitched a finger every so often, glancing at the clock, waiting for the next hour to up the painful ante. There was no bloodlust, it was purely businesslike.
By hour eighteen, Dean had given up trying to hide his pain. With each new, more frequent and intense spike came a scream or a gasp, the ebb got lesser and the pressure on his chest only increased. Dean howled and screamed and moaned and when one of the spikes didn't lessen, but began it's own ebb and flow like a needle jammed right into a nerve and twisting, Dean began to sob. All he could hold on to were images of Sam, Cas and Jack and the knowledge that they would be safe, as long as they stayed away. Worry still curdled in his gut, but he forced his brain to focus on that phone call. They wouldn't come. They wouldn't come. They had to let him go.
Asmodeus picked up the phone again on hour twenty three, Dean was shaking, screaming, crying by this point. If he'd been able to move freely he would have curled into a ball. Instead he still stood, eyes staring wide at the clock. How? He thought, how is this getting worse? How can it? But it could, he knew that it could. Unfortunately, that knowledge didn't strengthen him against the pain he was feeling. It just made him afraid of what the next hour would bring, and the one after that. His brain was fuzzy, he heard the dial tone and then he heard Sam speak. It was like a shot of pure adrenaline to his system and he focused for a brief moment, allowing him to actually hear the words.
"You're not getting Jack."
Dean's heart swelled with pride at the determination in his brother's voice. Asmodeus raised an eyebrow.
"No?"
"No." Jack said, his voice was small and it quavered slightly.
"Ahh, Jack. Excellent. I'm glad you're there." He flicked his fingers.
Then the pain overtook him and he couldn't think for a while.
By the time it had lessened enough for him to focus again, Asmodeus was laughing and Sam and Jack were calling his name, strained and desperate.
Don't let them break he prayed, forcing the thought from his mind. He felt his nose start to bleed again with the effort and the increased pressure in his brain meant he let out an involuntary gasp.
"I won't." Cas said. His voice gravelly and hoarse. As pained as the rest of them, but steady.
"You won't?" Asmodeus said, mockingly. Well, I might have to just come to you then."
"You can't get at us here," Jack said, defiance in his tone.
Asmodeus chuckled, "Oh, can't I?"
Dean started screaming again.
Protect - leave me – Oh crap it hurts! Dean scrambled desperately inside his head, trying to pull that last bit back, the part infused with his pain, Cas didn't need-
But a choking sound on the other end of the phone told him that the angel had gotten his prayer.
"Dean-" he began. Then he seemed to stop himself. Dean forgot this almost immediately, all he could feel was blinding pain, white fire behind his eyes, every pore was screaming, every strand of sinew, every cell of his body screamed. He may have sent out more prayers, if he did, he wasn't aware of them, all he had was the pain, the pain and that damn clock, which had been moved with him each time he had been teleported out. The red numbers flashing 01:00
"Well, you have one more hour to decide. I think I might come to you. I know you're in the bunker in Montana. I was around for the building of all the bunkers and this cellphone tracks back to roughly twenty miles from there. It pays to keep an eye on these things. And just to keep my promise…"
Dean's voice cracked with the intensity of his screams, "we're in the last leg, gentlemen. Jack, only you have the power to save your friend. Do the right thing now or he will suffer for eternity."
Dean didn't hear the line go dead, he only knew that it must have, but that thought was far away, engulfed by the agony that trembled through him, consuming his skin, slick with sweat, his muscles and sinew, down to his bone marrow. Asmodeus cut off his screams and that made it worse somehow. It was all he could do to tremble, the agony building with no outlet, nothing. He still couldn't move, he felt his vocal cords straining, bursting, desperate to let loose, to give voice to his pain. Hot blood poured from his nose. Was he praying? He tried not to. But his effort was concentrated elsewhere, his effort was swallowed by the pain. The only image burned in his vision now were the red digits of the clock.
Xxx
Sam ended the call and slid the phone away along the table a little too forcefully, it landed on the stone floor with a clatter. None of them went to retrieve it. They just sat there, huddled the main room of a bunker that looked very like their own, but with enough differences to remind them that it wasn't home. For one thing, Dean wasn't there with them.
"He's being badly hurt." Jack said, brow scrunching as though the concept didn't make sense to him.
"Yes," Cas said, his voice hoarse. He was trying to ignore the fragments of prayers that were coming through to him now, infused with pain, broken screams and begging to make it stop. Apologies and pleas. Castiel found his clenched fist shaking in his lap and flexed his hand.
"If Asmodeus is coming to us," Jack said slowly, "and he brings Dean, why can't I go out and scare him away again?"
"He could kill Dean the moment you even start to use your powers," Sam explained, "or take him with him when he runs."
"That might still be our best option," Cas said.
"Cas! Asmodeus could kill him, with barely a thought!"
"You can't hear him, Sam," Cas said, voice strained, meeting the younger Winchester's eyes. "Death would be preferable."
Sam's eyes glazed over with pain. "Not in Hell," he whispered, "Asmodeus has him, body and soul. Even if the body dies…" he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
Cas looked down, ashamed. He knew that, he did. But the prayers were distracting him, not allowing him to focus. Though judging by the pain they were projecting, Castiel wasn't sure that Dean was even aware he was praying. They were thoughts born of pure desperation and fear. Each one was like a stab wound to his own chest.
"We need to find a way to neutralise Asmodeus' powers." Sam said, tactfully ignoring the way that Cas wiped impatiently at his eyes, "if we can separate him from Dean long enough we might be able to get him to safety."
"We shouldn't even go out to confront him," Cas said, "like we agreed,"
Protect them
"We have to do something!" Jack cried, standing, agitated. "You heard him on the phone!"
"Yes," Castiel said, passing a hand over his face, "I heard him. I hear him. But I also know him. He wants us to stay away. He wants me to keep you safe. I can't guarantee that if we go to confront Asmodeus."
"He's coming to us anyway." Sam said reasonably, "whether we like it or not, we need to prepare, we need to make a plan. We can't just hole up in here for the rest of our lives. Jack is the only thing we have that can fight him-"
"I won't put Jack in harm's way!" Castiel said, testily. "We discussed this, Sam. He's not ready, he's young and inexperienced and that matters. Asmodeus has been alive for eons, he knows his abilities, he knows how to use them, he knows his own limitations. Jack doesn't have that scope yet, without that, we have no idea what he's vulnerable to. Asmodeus might. We can't take that risk!"
"I want to try." Jack said, facing Castiel, shoulders squared. "I have to try. It's about what I do, right? Saving Dean is good, it's the right thing. Hiding down here, knowing I could help… That's wrong."
Cas clenched his jaw as he stared at the child, so determined, so sure. He'd never faced anything this large, he didn't understand the scale of loss they would be risking.
Cas, please – sorry – can't – Sammy –
The prayer filtered through like the rest, piercing him. Then he wilted. Just as Dean would never forgive him for putting Jack and Sam in danger, he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to save Dean.
"Very well," he said, voice cracking, "we have fifty-two minutes. Let's make a plan."
Xxx
Asmodeus appeared at the edge of the treeline. Sam and Castiel shared a glance, the same one they always shared before a battle, before a trial, the resignation to the inevitable and the reassurance of the other at their side. They were outside the bunker, only a few feet away from the door. They had left the door propped slightly open in case they needed a quick retreat. Cas hoped they would be fast enough if that particular escape route was needed. He might be able to buy the others a few seconds against Asmodeus but no more than that. Asmodeus sauntered his way across the clearing at a leisurely pace.
"Where's Dean?" Jack yelled, voice catching. Castiel too felt the urgency. Sam glanced at the ground between Asmodeus and Jack, trying to judge his pace, a worried crease between his eyes, tensed, ready to spring forward and grab Jack if anything went awry. Asmodeus merely smirked and suddenly, Dean was there. He was completely silent, floating in mid-air, twisting and writhing, Castiel could hear his bones grinding against each other, his heartbeat stuttering far too quickly. He could hear as Dean's vocal chords strained, on the brink of snapping. Cas put a hand out in front of Sam to stop him running forward. Jack took a few steps before recovering himself, eyes darting between the silently screaming Dean and Asmodeus.
"Let him go," Jack said. Asmodeus was still halfway across the clearing, advancing slowly. His grin widened and Jack took a half-step back.
Cas could feel the call. Dean was so close, every single cell that made up his being screamed for him to run to Dean, to heal him, to destroy Asmodeus where he stood for daring. Instead he clenched his fists and kept silent, though his eyes wouldn't leave Dean's struggling form, coiling and uncoiling like a tortured snake.
"Not until I get what I want," Asmodeus said, calmly, stopping where he stood, "you are going to come with me Jack. And I will return you and Dean to safety once the task I have for you is complete. You won't get a better deal than that, I assure you. Otherwise, things are going to go poorly, for him," Asmodeus waved his hand and Dean twisted, spine straining to form an 'n' shape, his eyes wide and staring, mouth a perfect 'o', as Cas watched, blood vessels popped, staining the whites of his eyes with a red film. This time, it was Cas who started forward and Sam had to seize him around the torso to hold him back.
"Cas, I know. I know, take a breath." He muttered. Cas did, forcing his eyes closed to re-centre himself for a moment. Ignoring Asmodeus' chuckle as Sam let go of him. Jack looked back at them, eyes frightened. Cas moved forward again to stand in front of him,
"He won't be handing himself over to you." Cas said, his eyes still flicked up towards Dean, "you won't be taking him anywhere."
"Is that so?" Asmodeus said. His voice had an oily quality to it that made Cas want to recoil but he stood his ground. Until of course, he was tossed aside by a wave of Asmodeus' hand. The Prince of Hell started forward again, Jack stumbled backwards into Sam, who steadied him. Asmodeus took one more step and –
Dean dropped suddenly, crashing to the ground, gasping and trembling. Cas, who was closest to him after being thrown in his direction, scrambled to his feet and rushed forwards to drag him away, back towards the door of the bunker. Asmodeus looked down at his hand confused, then he scanned the ground. Sam flicked open a lighter and threw it. The Holy Fire burst up around the Prince of Hell in the shape of a Devil's Trap. Asmodeus snarled, the motion baring his teeth, the flames highlighting the scars on his face.
"Clever," he said, "but this won't hold me for long."
"It doesn't need to," said Jack, stepping forward out of Sam's protection. Castiel dragged Dean clear. The Hunter shaking violently in his arms, but he didn't have time to stop and comfort.
Jack's eyes glowed golden with his power and after a glance towards Castiel and Dean, he raised his hand at Asmodeus.
"You hurt my friend!" he roared. Castiel felt a prickle of electricity rush down his spine, the same feeling he got in the middle of a storm. Dark clouds began to gather overhead, birds took off, shrieking from the trees. Lightning flashed and thunder howled but not a drop of rain fell. Jack screamed as he let loose a burst of power straight at Asmodeus, it ripped through him, blood spurted from his torso and he dropped to his knees in the trap with a cry. His eyes were wide and displayed both awe and fear as he gazed up at Jack. Then, the wind picked up into a screaming gale and another pulse of power left Jack's hand. Castiel couldn't see if it connected or not, the wind had dampened some of the Holy fire and broke the connection. Asmodeus vanished from the trap.
Sam and Jack rushed over to Dean,
"We should get him inside," Jack said, "he looks bad."
Cas nodded and waved away Sam's offer to help, lifting Dean easily. He wasn't completely conscious, red tinged tears leaking from his eyes as he twitched and moaned. Castiel whispered to him softly as he headed towards the bunker, Sam and Jack trailing behind, telling him that he was safe, that it was all over now. That they would be home soon.
"Cas," he mumbled, voice cracked.
"I'm here, Dean, I've got you,"
The Hunter said something else and twisted in his arms, burrowing his head into Cas' shoulder. When they were inside, Cas laid him carefully down onto one of the beds. The layout of this bunker was surprisingly similar to the other one, mostly underground, although it did look like an old ski lodge from the outside, they hadn't been able to find a way into that part of the building yet.
Sam and Jack crowded into the room after him, Sam kneeling next to the bed, tears in his own eyes, Jack sat on the chair at the desk, hugging his knees as he watched silently. Castiel sat on the bed after placing Dean down and pressed his fingers to Dean's forehead. He pushed his grace outward, willing it to heal. It was more sluggish than usual, slow to cooperate. Cas sat there for almost a full minute before he felt any of his grace trickle out.
"What's going on?" Sam asked, clasping his brother's hand, "what's wrong?"
"My grace is being… difficult," Cas answered. Pressing his lips together and concentrating his effort. It was more strenuous than it should have been, and not a little painful, but Castiel persevered. This was nothing compared to what Dean had just endured, he needed to ease his friend's pain as much as he could.
After a while he sighed and sat back, drained.
"That is as much as I can do for now. I've managed to repair his eyes and the damage to his throat and brain. But there isn't much physical harm. He'll be fine. I'll continue to heal him overnight. He should wake up by morning.
Sam nodded, still kneeling. Cas went to fetch a chair for him and he smiled gratefully. They stayed that way in silence for over an hour, listening to the soft groans and tremors coming from Dean. It was almost peaceful.
Eventually, Sam sat back and ran a hand through his hair. Then he stood and stretched.
"It doesn't look like he's going anywhere for a while. Jack, are you hungry? Come help me find something for dinner."
Jack nodded and slipped out of his seat. Castiel touched his arm as he passed.
"You did brilliantly today, Jack. I'm so proud of you."
Jack's face burst into a smile, which faded as he looked at Dean.
"He got hurt because of me."
Cas smiled softly, "no, he got hurt because of Asmodeus. He'll be okay because of you. There's a difference. And I cannot even begin to express my gratitude."
Jack nodded again and followed Sam out, closing the door behind him. Castiel sighed and took Dean's hand between his own, allowing himself to feel the strong pulse, the warmth of his skin, the soft gasps of breath making his chest rise and fall. Every broken prayer that Dean had sent to him came rushing into his head and Castiel allowed himself this time alone to break into quiet sobs. His strength was no longer needed, he could allow himself to feel the pain that Dean had felt, he allowed the fear of the past few days to consume him. His fear for Dean, his fear for Jack, his fear for Sam, his fear that the plan would go awry and it would have been his fault. His guilt over the promise he broke, what he had thought would have been his last promise. The last one that mattered. Now that his emotions were no longer locked away they slammed into him like a sledgehammer, pouring from his throat in gut-wrenching sobs. The image of Dean twisting in the air, the sound of his screaming over the phone, the prayers he had broken through a layer of warding to send and the ones he had sent without knowing. He thought of everything Dean had been through, he remembered the feeling when he had decided to abandon him to Asmodeus, to follow his wishes.
Cas bent forward with the force of his sobs and rested his forehead on Dean's stomach. It was a solid presence, hard muscle under the thin t-shirt and plaid. It was warm and Cas could hear the little gurgles a human digestive system made and it was comforting. Castiel stared there long after his tears had dried, holding Dean's hand, feeding pulses of healing grace as soon as he could gather enough to push through. Whatever was wrong with his grace was a problem for another day, another week. That thought couldn't be further from his mind. He concentrated on Dean's breathing which slowly eased and deepened, so Castiel's head moved with the gentle rhythm of his breaths. If he had been human, he would have slept himself. Instead, he floated, taking comfort in Dean's presence, his improving physical state, his scent; of metal, gunpowder and whisky and the sounds of his body as he slept. He fell into almost a trance-like state, drained from using so much of his uncooperative grace, and he stayed that way until he felt a hand carding gently through his hair.
"Cas?"
Castiel blinked and sat up, Dean was awake and staring at him, curiously. He let go of Dean's hand and the one in his hair fell away. Dean frowned, looking concerned.
"Have you been crying?"
Cas wiped his eyes quickly and shrugged, embarrassed.
"I was, er, just worried," he said, "healing you with my grace has been difficult and-"
"-are Sam and the kid okay?" Dean interrupted, trying to sit up. His arms wobbled with the effort so Cas reached forward to help him.
"They're both fine. Asmodeus is gone. Dead or just injured we don't know. Jack was amazing. When you're well, we'll make the journey home."
Dean frowned, looking around the room. Cas caught on and smiled.
"We're in Montana. The bunkers are almost identical in decoration."
"Right." Dean said. "And are you okay?"
Those green eyes bored into him, Cas nodded,
"I'm just glad you're awake."
"What was that about your grace?"
"Dean," Cas stopped him, "you're the one who was in peril. I didn't think we could get you back," his voice trembled and he stopped, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Dean was here, he was okay.
Dean, surprisingly, grinned, but the smile was understanding and contained something deeper than joviality.
"It sucks, doesn't it? That feeling."
Cas just nodded.
"I'm sorry about all those prayers I sent," Dean said, "I don't remember most of them but I know I sent some useless ones."
"'useless' isn't the word I'd use," Cas grumbled, "but there's no need to apologise. I know you weren't exactly in your right mind."
There was a short pause.
"Well, I guess I should thank Jack," Dean said, sitting up, going to swing his legs off the bed, "and I'm gonna have to hear this whole story,"
"Of course," Cas said, "but you can't walk yet."
Dean waved him away, stood, and immediately collapsed. Cas rolled his eyes and helped him back onto the bed, sending through another burst of healing.
"It might be a few hours before you're fully healed," he said, "I'll go and get the others." He turned to leave but Dean grabbed his arm.
"Cas, wait."
The angel turned back.
Dean swallowed and looked away, not meeting his eyes. "Thanks for answering me when I needed you. Not just this time, but every time. You've always been there for me, man and… when you were gone… I just, I guess I forgot how to fight. I know I can be a dick about everything. I just want you to know that I missed you. And I'm really, really glad you're not dead anymore. You mean a lot to me, Cas. A hell of a lot." He stopped, a pink flush creeping up his neck. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Cas smiled.
"You mean a lot to me too, Dean," he said, "perhaps more than I ever thought possible." Gently, slowly, he placed his palm against Dean's where it was still holding his sleeve, and slotted their fingers together. Dean stared at where their hands joined, gently rotating his wrist, but he didn't let go. He pulled Cas towards him, where he sat back on the bed.
The story would come later, the anger that Cas had gone against his wishes and put Sam and Jack in danger, the frank talks and the jokes and the awkwardness and the deliberate lack of touching and even more adventures. That was for later. For now, they were both content to sit, hands clasped, and think about nothing more than how right it felt.
So what do you think?
I really hope it didn't seem too easy/convenient/cliche a way to fix the Asmodeus issue but I'd kinda written myself into a corner and didn't really have anywhere else to go with it.
All feedback is loved and treasured.
Love Tibbins xx
