Disclaimer: No money, nor pie, nor anything gained from this. Only for fun (mostly mine and of the readers, not so much for poor Cas).

Note: this chapter contains a scene that I find really weird but, for some reason, couldn't help write it down…anyway please, take note that this is NOT intended as a SLASH fiction. Thank you and enjoy your reading.

The afternoon turned into evening and the evening into night, Sam had awaken and taken Dean's place next to Castiel's bed so that the older brother could go to sleep.

After some hours Dean was recalled abruptly to consciousness by a sudden cry of pain. He jolted upright and gave a look to the alarm clock on his nightstand. 1:30 am. Great. He knew to be unable to help his friend in any way and tried to go back to sleep, trying to concentrate more on Sammy's words of comfort and shushing sounds than on the angel's moans…until the whining became a proper crying. At that point he could stand no more and ran immediately to the bedchamber next to his.

The view made his chest clench: the fallen angel was lying on his side, facing Sam, but his face was buried in the pillow and his hands were gripping tight the younger Winchester's arms, which were supporting his shoulders.

His entire body was shaken by spasms and sobs, the pain being so strong to make him cry.

Aware of his brother's arrival, Sam lifted his head and looked at him, unsure of what to do.
"Lift him up."
"What?"
"You've heard me. Now lift him up, quickly!"
With a sigh, he did as his brother said, picking the still crying angel like he was only a little child, letting him press his face on his chest and his hand clenching his shirt.
He followed his brother in the bathroom.

Dean had opened the water and was filling the bath tub.
"What's on your mind?"
"Usually, when you have a contracture, the first thing to do is to warm your muscles up. Isn't it?"
Sam nodded
"This should help him to ease the tension in his back a little…and don't look at me that way! I know: it's weird, but it's better than nothing."

They sat the hurting creature on the edge of the tub and stripped him to his underwear, which he refused to get removed.
Then the older brother took his sweaty head in his hands while the other lifted his legs and they eased him in the warm water, leaving only his head outside. The whimpering subsided and Castiel began to gasp, trying to regularize his breath, while Dean washed his face.
Slowly, the brothers helped him to sit and poured some water on his aching back, helping his clasped muscles to relax.

They helped him to get out and folded a huge towel around his body. Then Sam gave him another pair of boxer but the angel, given his ingrained shyness, refused any help to put them on. The simply process of re wearing his pajamas drained him of all his strength and Dean had to carry him back to the room. It was almost funny: the once magnificent creature that had raised him from the deepest of Hell was now in his arms, looking so pale and fragile, a mere shadow of his past glory.

Saddened, the older Winchester laid his bundle on the bed, making sure to put him on his side, and rearranged the covers around his shaking shoulders.

"Thank you"
Castiel felt a comforting hand leaning on his head, followed by his friend's voice "It's ok, buddy. It really is. Do you feel any better now?"
The fallen angel nodded slightly
"Good. Try to get some rest now. Sammy's going to stay by your side for a while and I'll be in the next room. Let us know if you need anything, ok?"
Another small nod and the hunter left exchanging a worried glance with his brother, who was sitting next to the bed again.

A few seconds later, Dean was back into his bed and fell asleep listening to his little brother's voice reading for their angel.

Two days passed by, bringing further sufferance and taking away Castiel's strength. He had completely given up eating, the boys had only managed to make him drink a couple glasses of fruit juice, to which Bobby had thought to add some holy water. The fallen creature was becoming so helpless and fragile that Dean had suggested to carry him to the Panic Room for further protection. But he had refused, begging the hunters to let him in the light, that reminded him more of his Home. They didn't have the heart to force him and were left to sit at his bedside, with a growing sense of worry as the attacks turned into more frequent and painful ones.

The only comfort that the Winchesters and Bobby could offer to their friend reduced to vigil on him, sponging his face and taking hold of his hand when the pain was so unbearable to make him scream or cry. Only in the moments when he was fully conscious, the angel would have tried to make some conversation or asked to someone to read for him. In both occasions he could be seen listening with attention, despite his fatigue. Those moments, though, were lessening, displaying the advancement of his agony.

In the afternoon of the third day after their forced-bathed the angel, both Dean and Sam were having a snack in the kitchen, both with grim expressions, while Bobby was watching over Cas, who had just collapsed after one of the worse attacks so far.

No words were being spoken but the brothers were deeply aware that, in spite of a remotely hypothetical miracle, it was only a question of days, if not hours, before they would have to add another mourning to their already long list.

The silence between them had grown heavier and heavier and the tension rise until Dean punched the table in anger.
"This is not going to help in any way, you know."
"Oh fuck! What are we supposed to do? Stay here and wait for Cas to burn out like an old candle?!"
"Look, there must be something…"
"What, then? We've tried everything!"
"Maybe…"
"No, Sam! We're really out of options now. Do you know what I did the other day? I prayed, Sam. I took his hand in mine and asked Big Boss to help. You know what happened then? Nothing! Just a huge filthy bunch of nothing!"

Before the youngest brother could attempt to calm him down, a sudden knocking on the front door interrupted them. Knowing that Dean was too pissed off to treat anyone in a civil way, Sam went to the door and opened it.

Immediately, he slammed it shut again.

Author's notes:

*clears throat* Heree's Jhoonnyy!

Who may this mysterious visitor be? We'll discover it soon, I hope.

Why don't you leave a review in the spare time?

(By the way…did you get that reference?)