And then a hero comes along
With the strength to carry on
And you cast your fears aside
And you know you can survive
So when you feel like hope is gone
Look inside you and be strong
And you'll finally see the truth
That a hero lies in you

"Sam, dammit Sammy, drive faster!" Dean half muttered and half yelled from the backseat, his arms wrapped around a profusely bleeding Cas. One hand was pressed to the wound in his stomach, trying desperately to hold it closed, and the other was nestled under his head, brushing through his hair slowly.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Sam said sternly from the seat, every last word of his sentence reigning true. He was going seventy in a thirty-five, and his eyes were staring intently at the road as his headlights light up the dark night. "Just…" His voice faded out, because there wasn't a "just". Castiel was dying. He knew that. And somewhere, somewhere buried under a thousand layers of prayers and denial, Dean knew that too.

The rest of the fifteen minute drive was silent, save for the groans of Castiel, who moved every so often in his painful state. A few hushed words came from Dean, likely words of hopeless comfort, but that was all. No more demands, no more screams to hurry… And the silence was perhaps worse than that.

Sam pulled as close to the entrance as he could get, and before the car was in park Dean was spilling out of the car, carrying Cas in his arms. He burst through the door, and immediately a flock of nurses was upon him. "What happened?" The first approaching blonde nurse had asked as they lowered Castiel onto a gurney and started towards the back, Sam and Dean following in hot pursuit.

"He was- Someone stabbed him. A drugstore hold-up a few miles away." Dean rushed out, keeping pace with the women and men in white until an African American male nurse held his hands out, stopping them in their tracks.

"No one's allowed past this point, sor-." His voice was a deep rumble in his chest, cut short by Dean's outstretched hands, twisting the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't you dare tell me I can't go in there with him." He growled, green eyes slanting. The male nurse started ushering out apologies and excuses, and Dean felt the brush of Sam's hands pulling against his shoulders, trying to pry him away.

After a good ten minutes of protest, Sam had finally forced Dean into a seat, where the elder Winchester sat chewing on his nails and shaking his leg, ever silent. Occasionally he'd bark about why it was taking so long, but he didn't really expect or want an answer. His imagination as good enough, for now. Because at least there Castiel was making a full recovery.

Hours later the blonde nurse reappeared, her bun had fallen into a ponytail and her pink lipgloss was fading. "You can see your partner now." She smiled, blue eyes twinkling as she looked at Dean, who leapt from his seat at the words, not bothering or caring to correct her.

He raced into the small room where they had Castiel lying on a bed, his clothes exchanged for a hospital gown and his eyelids closed, heavy with the desire for a few minutes of relaxation. Dean's bright green eyes scanned the man up and down, and he fell to his knees at his bedside, his hand reaching to Cas's without thinking about, and wrapping itself around Castiel's fingers.

"Is he okay?" It was Sam's voice, echoing in through the hallway.

"Well, he's lost a lot of blood." The blonde nurse, likely trying to explain the worst case scenario as calmly as possible. "We did what we could, but there's no way to know if he'll make a full recovery. His brain lost a lot of blood, depending on how much will determine whether or not he'll wake."

Dean shuddered at the thought of Castiel, the once majestic angel, dying in a hospital bed like any ordinary human. His hand wrapped tighter around the exangel's, and he bowed his head, hiding his face from his brother. Hiding the tears that were building in his green eyes. "Cas, you can't leave me. Not now. Not like this." He whispered, using his free hand to wipe away the tears that fell from his eyes. "Dammit you son of a bitch. You're not dying here. You're not."

"Excuse me, sir." A brunette nurse had entered the room without his knowing, and after wiping away more of his tears he turned to look at her. "Can you be so kind as to tell me this man's last name?"

"Winchester. His name's Castiel Winchester." Dean responded immediately, then turned back to the man who was fighting desperately for his life. The brunette whispered a thank you, and Dean heard the sound of her footsteps as she walked back out into the hallway.

"Dean?" It was Sam's voice this time, and Dean didn't bother to turn around. "I'm going to drive home. Fill in Kevin and Charlie. I'll be back in an hour or two." Dean knew Sam could just call, but Dean also knew Sam wasn't one for hospitals. Every time his little brother had been in one, someone had died, or had nearly done so. He knew Sammy was just itching like hell to flee this place. He nodded once, felt his brother's large hand squeeze his shoulder, and then heard him pull the dividing curtain closed as he left.

Dean sniffled, and let a deep breath slide through his teeth. "Please, Cas. Please wake up." He whispered. This same command fell from him at least a thousand times as the sky outside grew darker, eventually fading into a time well past midnight. Sam had returned, Kevin and Charlie in tow, and the three had sat in the room for awhile, before decided to go grab something to eat while they waited. They hadn't returned thereafter, and Dean assumed they were chilling in the waiting room, passing the time in better ways than fretting over Castiel's barely-functioning body.

The elder Winchester was still kneeling at Castiel's bedside, not having moved, save for when Charlie had made him kneel on a pillow, at the very least. His hand was still wrapped around Castiel's, and his thumb had began to trail along Cas's palm. He continued to whisper his silent plea to Cas, and had no recollection that he fell asleep while doing so. In fact, he didn't know he was asleep until he was waking up to his name being silently spoken in his ear.

His green eyes opened slowly, and his lips turned up in a lazy smile as he stared into eyes bluer than the sunny sky outside. "Cas, you're oka-" His words caught in his throat as he felt dry, hesitant lips pressed against his.

"If I am going to die this often, I assume I need to take more frequent risks." Cas smiled as he pulled back, and Dean smiled too.

Without saying anything else, Dean rose to his sore and screaming legs, and wrapped his arms around Cas. It was funny, really, how someone nearly dying really made you realise how much you cared not about them, but for them.

Author's Note- Thanks for reading! I got the idea for this one from a post on Tumblr, so I decided to just sit down and write it really quick. Hope you enjoyed! Please follow/favorite/REVIEW! :D Also, I've been thinking of doing a long Destiel fanfiction of their time in Purgatory... Would anyone be interested in such a thing? Annndddd any ideas for a ficlet here would be greatly appreciated! I love you all sooooo much, and thanks for reading! Carry on my wayward readers!