Cas lay in the half-dark, gasping for breath as pain and shock coursed through him. He was quickly beginning to drift toward unconsciousness, but he forced himself to stay awake-Dean would be back soon, and Cas didn't want him to panic. Despite the black spots dancing before his vision and the sick smell of blood rising from his many wounds, the angel had to keep fighting the darkness. No matter how much he wanted to give in and slip into blissful nothingness, he couldn't.

"Hey!" Dean's voice was too loud, with an edge of panic to it, "Hey! Look at me! Cas!"

Cas blinked, forcing himself to focus on the hunter's face. Dean was kneeling over the angel, fear in his eyes as he reached out to grip Cas's uninjured shoulder. "Hello, Dean," Cas muttered, fighting to stay conscious for just a little bit longer. He hoped that eventually Dean would realize that he was past saving, and would leave him behind. At least that way Dean would be moving himself out of the path of danger, and as much as Cas wanted his friend to stay, it was more important that Dean was safe.

"God, Cas. You're so pale," Dean frowned, the green fire in his eyes flickering with barely suppressed anxiety, "We need to get you somewhere safer, okay? The car is at the end of the alley, so if you can just make it that far, you can crash. Promise. All you gotta do is stand up and walk a little ways. Think you can do that for me?"

"Dean," Cas managed to get out, staring up at his friend with as much conviction in his gaze as he could muster, "Go now. You have to leave before the reinforcements come looking for me. If they find you here, they'll kill you. Or worse."

"Damn it, Cas," Dean growled, gripping the angel's shoulder even tighter as a ripple of emotions crossed his face, "I'm not leaving you behind. Ever."

Cas blinked, frowning slightly. "I don't understand, Dean, why...?"

"Yeah, I know you don't understand, you friggin' Vulcan," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes, "Doesn't change anything. I'm not leaving you."

"What's a Vulcan?" Cas asked, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

"Doesn't matter," Dean shook his head, smiling very slightly, "Just... Don't talk. I don't want you to hurt yourself more than you already have."

"I didn't hurt myself," Cas corrected dully as a wave of pain washed through him, "It was Natheriel who did this."

"That's not what I..." Dean began, then sighed and shook his head. Putting his hands on the angel's shoulders, he half dragged, half lift Cas to his feet. "C'mon, let's get you to the car."

At this, Cas hissed with pain and fear. He knew that if he had to go through what he had just experienced a second time, he wouldn't survive it. And neither would Dean; not if Heaven sent proper assassins this time, which they most likely would once Natheriel reported back. "I mean it, Dean!" Cass raised his voice slightly, wincing as the bruising around his throat shot throbbing pain throughout his chest and neck, "You have to get out of here. Run. Please."

"Alright, you know what?" Dean growled, tightening his grip on Cas's body as he dragged the angel toward the end of the alleyway where the Impala sat waiting, "You need to shut it and let me concentrate. You're not gonna convince me anyway, so you might as well stop fighting and let me get you to the car." Dean's hands slipped slightly, and the angel groaned with pain as the blade in his stomach shifted, "Sorry," Dean's eyes flashed with worry, and he let one of his hands fall down to support the weapon half-buried in the angel's flesh.

When they finally reached the Impala, Cas was practically unconscious again, his vision flickering and the blue glow showing through his wounds growing brighter with every passing moment. He could tell that Dean was doing his best not to panic, but there was a wild glint in the hunter's eyes that could only mean one thing-Cas was dying, or at least close to it.

"Get in the back," Dean said, his voice rough but his hands soft as he helped Cas into the car, "Lie down and try not to move. When we get back to the hotel I can fix you up, but those winged bitches might come back anytime."

Cas nodded weakly, his eyes falling shut as he sprawled out across the Impala's backseats. "Thank you, Dean." he murmured.

. . . . . .

The hotel was only a few miles from the alleyway where he and Cas had fought Natheriel and his accomplices, and Dean made sure to get there as fast as physically possible. He could tell that Cas's condition was getting worse, the scarlet stains on his trench-coat a solid indicator of the severity of his wounds. Gritting his teeth against the panic and fear rushing through his veins, the hunter parked Baby right outside his hotel room's door and shut off the engine.

"Hey, Cas," Dean pulled open the back door and climbed in beside the angel, doing his best to keep his voice semi-cheerful for his friend's sake. The last thing he wanted right now was for Cas to realize just how serious the situation was, as that might make his job-fixing the angel's broken vessel-quite a bit harder.

"Dean," Cas said groggily as Dean put an arm around his back and pulled him upright. The angel lifted his head, his eyes opening as he looked up into the hunter's face.

"C'mon, I need to get you inside," Dean helped his friend out of the car and across the parking lot, struggling to remove the keys from his pocket while supporting a dead-weight angel. As he opened the door and hoisted Cas into the room, he wondered if angels' wings added any weight to their vessel, because it sure felt like that could be possible at the moment.

Feeling slightly embarrassed and extremely un-macho, Dean gently lowered Cas onto the hunter's own bed, pulling one of the decorative pillows up under the angel's shoulders. Cas's face contracted with pain momentarily, but the expression was gone almost at once. After all, Cas was a warrior of Heaven, and it took a lot more than a few scratches (because that was all they were, Dean assured himself) to put him out of the game.

Pulling back the bloodstained and filthy trench-coat, the hunter again evaluated the angel's wounds. Most of them had already partially healed over, the flowing blood reduced to a trickle, but the stab-wound to Cas's stomach looked even worse than before. Fetching the first-aid kit from the kitchen, Dean carefully cleaned and bandaged the less-dangerous gashes and cuts, trying to delay dealing with the most serious damage as long as possible.

It took nearly half and hour for the hunter to completely finish with the cleansing and patching-up of his angel's injuries, and by that time the bleeding around the embedded blade had slowed at least a bit. Cas seemed to be unconscious, although Dean couldn't tell-for all he knew, the angel could just be sleeping. A little voice in the back of his head reminded him that angels don't sleep, and he bit his lip nervously. Taking a deep, slightly shaky breath, the hunter placed his hands around the silver weapon. Carefully, doing his best not to cause further damage, he gently pulled the blade from Cas's body, feeling half relieved and half anxious when the angel didn't respond to what must have been a large amount of pain.

"Mmmm," Cas attempted to roll over a few moment later, finally reacting as Dean pressed a large wad of gauze against the bleeding stab-wound, "Dean?" His blue eyes opened and instantly sought out the hunter's face, his body relaxing noticeably when Dean met his gaze steadily.

"I thought angels don't sleep," Dean smirked, gently swabbing away the blood seeping from the hole in the angel's torso, doing his best to ignore the bright light streaming through the broken flesh, "Or were you just resting your eyes?"

Cas smiled slightly in return. "I was unconscious," he supplied, "But only for a few minutes. The rest of the time I was awake but unable to move. My Grace is repairing my vessel, and it is taking up all my energy to do so."

"Good," Dean finished cleaning the wound and started to bandage it, wrapping strips of white cloth around the angel's midriff. Tying it off, he gave a nod of satisfaction as he considered his work. "Think you're good, Cas. Unless you heal up quick, we'll have to change the bandages in a few hours, but until then you're gonna sleep. Or, whatever. You know what I mean," he added as Cas opened his mouth to correct him.

Cas nodded, letting himself settle back against the decorative pillows. "Thank you," he looked up at Dean as the hunter pulled a blanket over the angel's body, "I feel... much better."

Dean grinned, letting out a breath of relief. "Don't do that again," he warned, his rough tone hiding a warm affection, "Or else I'll lock you in Bobby's panic room until this whole angel-thing has blown over."

Cas rolled his eyes, and Dean almost laughed at how similar the angel's exasperated expression was to the hunter's own. "I will try not to get into any more situations like this in the future," he agreed, "Thank you for saving me."

"'Course," Dean said, flashing one last charming smile over his shoulder as he turned toward the hotel kitchen. "That's what you do for family."

Cas closed his eyes and tucked his chin under the blanket, his entire face lit up with an uncharacteristically bright smile.

~ The End ~