As he willed Dean healed, Castiel's hands began to glow, and he felt the power leaving his body. Cas gasped in pain as the ritual made him and Dean one, which would then enable Castiel to give Dean some of his strength.
Dean woke up with a start as his bones began to slowly knit themselves back together, the air filled with a sickening crunching sound. He screamed as his body went through the unnatural healing process and he gripped Castiel's hand. Cas squeezed back, the wind knocked from his lungs as he felt Dean's pain as his own. Castiel cradled Dean to his chest as the hunter writhed and moaned, tears streaming from his emerald eyes.
As the ritual was completed, Dean was left sweaty and winded, his breath coming in gasps. But he was healed, not a scratch was left on his body. "Damn," he exclaimed, "That was by far the worst thing I have ever experienced in my life. And I have been ripped apart by hell hounds!"
"Sorry, I'm kind of rusty at this whole healing thing." Castiel used the wall to push himself up into a standing position, but his legs gave out and he slumped against Dean, blood dripping from his nose.
"Holy crap Cas! Are you okay?" Dean remarked as he helped the drained angel lean up against the wall.
"Better than I thought," grumbled Castiel as he wiped the blood from his face and stared at it with fascination. "I don't think I have ever seen my vessel bleed like this. It is quite perplexing. Only angelic weapons can do damage, but I guess now that I am cut off, I am becoming more vulnerable."
Shaking his head as if to clear something away, Castiel ran a hand through his hair then rubbed his chest. "I also believe that in healing you, I have taken on your injuries. This is quite odd." Shrugging off his trench coat, the angel unbuttoned his shirt and revealed his bare chest.
His lean, athletic figure was now covered in angry bruises and his rib cage looked like it had been beaten with a meat tenderizer. Blood was also starting to soak his pant leg, spreading like a blossoming flower.
Dean recoiled at the sight of his friend's mutilated chest. "Jesus, Cas we need to get you to a hospital!" Then he grew even more surprised as he saw the expression on the angel's face, "Doesn't that hurt?"
Castiel was too busy staring at his wounds with morbid interest to regard the first statement, but just shrugged when asked the second. "Of course it hurts, quite a lot actually. I am very sorry for letting you get hurt like this Dean. But angels have a larger pain threshold than humans. This should heal up in less than a day. The only thing that can seriously hurt us, are angelic weapons."
Dean shook his head in amazement then began to collect his sword from the body it was lodged in. "Well, I'm tired. So if you could just grab your angel knife and coat and zap us back to Bobby's, I would appreciate it."
While wiping the blood off of his knife, Dean heard Castiel grunt behind him. Turning to find what had happened, Dean yelled as he saw a not so dead Ithuliel with both hands on the angelic sword protruding from Castiel's chest. With an angry cry, Dean threw his knife at Ithuliel, hitting the angel in the center of the forehead, killing him.
Castiel sunk to the ground, his mouth opening and closing as he gasped for air like a fish out of water. Dean caught him before his head hit the floor and started to pull on the sword sticking out of his chest but stopped when the slightest movement of the lodged weapon drew a cry of agony from Castiel.
"Cas! Stay with me Cas! You have to get us out of here! Get us to Bobby's, now!" Dean's voice grew anxious as he stared into the bright blue eyes of the injured angel. They were slowly losing their light, closing little by little.
"No! Castiel, God dammit, you stay with me and you get us to Bobby's! I can fix you, I promise, just stay with me!" Dean's panicked tone brought Castiel enough strength to touch the center of Dean's forehead and teleport them to the house in South Dakota.