Dean fell to all fours as the man holding him suddenly disappeared, letting him drop onto the filthy concrete. His hands ached as blood rushed into them again, and he felt dizzy and sick as he scrambled back to his feet. "Cas!" He ran toward his friend, kneeling beside the fallen body. Cas had slid down the wall as soon as Natheriel had released him, leaving a thick smear of red on the grimy bricks.

Dean held his breath as he cautiously placed two fingers on Cas's bruised throat, waiting desperately to feel a pulse. Thank God. It was faint, but it was there. "Hold on, buddy," Dean gently pulled back Cas's bloodstained coat, wanting to see the full extent of the damage. He felt his heart rise into his throat as he took in the two long, deep gashes, his eyes finally coming to rest on the silver blade stuck deep into the fallen angel's stomach. Fear and anger swirled inside of the hunter's mind at the sight, and he made a silent oath to find the angel who had done this and rip its fucking wings off himself.

But what scared Dean the most wasn't the blood that was quickly pulsing out of the angel's wounds; it was the silvery-blue light shining through the torn flesh. Dean knew what the faint glow meant, and it terrified him-Cas's Grace had been torn along with his vessel.

Dean knew he had to move fast if he was going to save his angel's life. And although he had no experience with keeping an angel's Grace from bleeding out, he knew he had to close up Cas's wounds before he could do anything else. Maybe if he could just seal all that light inside of Cas's vessel...

"Dean," Cas's voice was so faint that Dean could barely hear it over the rushing of blood in his ears, but somehow he did.

"Cas?" Dean lifted one hand and cupped it carefully against Cas's cheek, covering the bleeding gash on his angel's jaw. "Hey, Cas. C'mon, open your eyes for me."

Cas's blue eyes opened slowly, and the pain and fear in them was so terrible and raw that Dean flinched. "Dean," Cas managed to get out, lifting his hand to grab a handful of the hunter's leather jacket. His knuckles were white as he gripped Dean' jacket tightly, as if it were the only thing anchoring him to life.

"Whoa, Cas," Dean let his hand fall onto Cas's wounded shoulder, applying gentle pressure to the bleeding stab wound. "It's okay; I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're going to be just fine. You hear me?"

Cas didn't respond, his eyes sliding shut and his head falling forward so that his chin rested on his bloodstained chest. The hand gripping Dean's jacket went limp.

"Hey!" Dean raised his voice as panic surged through him like a powerful electric shock. Hands shaking, he reached up to place his right finger's on Cas's throat. No pulse. No fucking pulse. His own heart went instantly into hyperdrive, almost as if it were trying to beat for both of them, and he quickly but carefully shifted his angel away from the wall and set Cas down on his back. Forcing down the panic that was threatening to engulf him, Dean placed his hands on Castiel's chest and began compressions. One, two, three...Dean counted, pausing after twenty compressions to listen for breath and/or a heartbeat. Nothing. Dean bent his head over Cas's face, pinching the angel's nose as he placed his mouth on Cas's. Normally this would have made the hunter extremely uncomfortable, but given the situation he couldn't have cared less. Whatever he had to do to save his angel's life, he would do it.

Dean worked tirelessly for the next seven minutes, switching between breaths and compressions as he fought to bring Cas back. But the angel remained unresponsive, the bright glow spilling out of his wounds growing stronger with every passing second as Cas's essence slowly but surely detached itself from his vessel.

"Cass, please," Dean grit his teeth as his eyes began to sting and his throat closed up with fear and disbelief, "C'mon, man. You've got to get through this! I need you!" With a snarl he lifted one fist and slammed it down over the angel's heart, all of his fear, anger, and grief contained in this single blow.

And suddenly Cas's back arched and he took a long gasping breath, his blue eyes flying open as he struggled to focus on Dean's face. He fought desperately to breath through the constriction in his bruised and broken throat, his gaze full of pain and fear as he again reached out to grab Dean's jacket. "Dean... Can't... I can't..."

Dean felt an almost painful surge of relief at seeing Cas's wide blue eyes again, but it was quickly replaced by fear and horror as Cas coughed up blood mixed with silvery light.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, Cas. It's okay, man; I've got you," Dean gently put one hand under his friend's uninjured shoulder, pulling the wounded angel up into a half-sitting position. Cas groaned slightly, his eyes closing as he relaxed against Dean's side. His head fell to rest on the hunter's chest, and Dean carefully put one arm around the angel's back to hold him upright.

"Dean... Are you..." Cas swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths. "Are you hurt?"

Dean's heart wrenched painfully at these words, and he realized that even in his current condition, Cas was only concerned about Dean's safety.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Dean muttered, feeling guilty that he had gotten off so easy compared to his friend, "Look, Cas, we've got to get you out of here. You need to be somewhere safe; somewhere I can take care of those wounds. You're going to have to stay here while I get the car, okay?"

Cas nodded, relinquishing his death grip on Dean's jacket. "I'll... I'll just..." Cas tried to reply, but his bruised throat wouldn't allow him to form a cohernent sentence, so he just nodded again.

Dean grit his teeth, carefully maneuvering the angel back against the wall. Taking Cas's hands in his, Dean positioned them so that one was pressed firmly over the angel's shoulder wound, and the other was folded around the blade sticking out of his stomach, holding it steady. Then the hunter removed his jacket and tucked it around his friend, who had begun to shiver violently. He guessed that Cas was going into shock, if that was even possible for angels. His skin was cold and pale, but that could also be due to the blood loss he was suffering. Dean didn't even know if angels couldgo into shock, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"Cas, I need you to keep pressure on that shoulder wound," Dean stood up, wiping Cas's blood on his ripped pants, "I'll be right back. Don't... Don't move, okay?"

Cas nodded, a grimace of pain twisting his features as he pressed his fingers against the bleeding stab wound.

Dean stood for a few seconds, looking down at the half-concious angel, and then he turned and ran back down the alleyway toward the parking lot as fast as he possibly could.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .