Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.

A series of short excerpts from Castiel's remaining life with the Winchesters, after hunting. Almost certainly AU. Set after Season 7. Close, but no Destiel. Warnings: Scenes of bereavement and indirect references to character death.

~#~

Excerpts from a Life

~#~

Making Amends

Castiel rushed into the ER and queued impatiently at the overwhelmed reception desk.

"I got a call that Dean Winchester was brought in," he explained, when he finally got to the front of the line.

A frazzled-looking nurse was called over who introduced himself, but Cas was too distracted and jittery to take anything in.

The nurse looked at him with sympathy, "Your father?"

"What? No, he's my brother."

The nurse looked surprised and more than a little suspicious at the large age gap.

"I'm adopted," Cas answered simply, realizing that he was stretching credibility to the realms of the impossible. It was definitely time to update to a new fake ID, maybe as Dean's son or nephew, or maybe even a grandson.

"Hmm. Your brother was brought in after he was found unconscious in the street. We've been running some standard tests, but really it's just age; his body's literally worn out. Although, I'm afraid he does also have some fairly extensive liver damage and quite frankly an appalling number of poorly healed broken bones and contortions. I'm guessing in the past he lived on the street?"

"What? No, well, not exactly..."Cas was getting irritated by the supercilious tone. This was a man whose physical form he'd rebuilt himself and someone who had made sacrifices his whole life to keep others safe. He deserved some respect.

"Okay... There are also signs of considerable scarring to the heart muscles, although it looks like that was from some time ago. It's a miracle he's survived this long."

"Yes it was," smiled Cas, despite the rudeness. "Last time he had heart trouble he was cured by a faith healer."

The nurse started to chuckle then stopped at the intensity of Cas' expression.

The young man looked harried and bone-tired as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, giving Cas the sudden, overwhelming impression of a young Dean. Here was another young man dedicating his life to saving people in the face of ever increasing odds, with probably little in the way of thanks.

"I'm sorry, no excuses, I'm just overtired from pulling a double shift. Can we start over?"

Cas nodded.

"Look, ten years ago we might have been able to do something for him, but these days what with resources so scarce, there really just isn't enough to go round."

Cas' heart sank at the words.

"Listen, the best thing you can do is take your brother home and try to make him comfortable," the nurse added gently.

"There's really very little we can do for him. Maybe a little more of that faith?" he gave a small, apologetic smile before leaving.

The former angel stood gazing at his friend for a long minute before reaching a decision. He concentrated on gathering up the very last vestiges of his grace and tried to use it to heal Dean, but it was just too little, too late. The tiny flicker of his grace was almost extinguished by the herculean effort required for what he was attempting.

"Please," he begged, and he wasn't quite sure if he spoke the word aloud or not.

For a moment he thought he heard the whisper of his name in the air, and he shivered at the sensation of the lightest touch of a hand on his arm.

It was as if he had found a hidden reserve of power, not much, but just enough to make a few minor repairs, maybe enough for a few more years of life.

On the bed Dean started to stir, the life returning to now florid cheeks. He groaned and his eyes fluttered and opened. His voice sounded rough and unused, "Cas? You okay?"

Cas paused for a moment, considering himself, with a shock like a punch to the stomach he realized he could no longer sense what had always been the ever present whisper of the Host of Heaven in the back of his mind. He suddenly felt bereft and all alone.

"Cas?"

Almost. He gave a quick, but heartfelt prayer of thanks before he reached out and laid an unsteady hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I'm fine, I'm right where I'm supposed to be," he smiled.

~#~