Hello,

Here is the 10th chapter and things change significantly between Dean and Cas.

Thank you for reading me and writing to me

See you soon

Sydney8201

Chapter's music:

Undiscovered by James Morrison

Warnings: swearing, language, mention of torture, mention of rape, mention of murder, blood, loss of blood, serious injuries, mention of physical violence, explicit sexual scene

Chapter 10: Distress Call

"Those who fall often drag down with them those who run to their rescue"

Stefan Zweig

Castiel had headed to New York on the day after his separation with Dean. He had renounced to join his brother immediately, convinced that he needed time to put his mind in order. He had loaded his belongings in his car, returned the keys of his room and had left Saint Louis without even a backward glance. He didn't know if his former companion had gone before him or if he was still in his room when he had left the parking lot. He had almost expected to see him hitchhiking on the road. But he hadn't seen him. And it was certainly better that way. Their paths had to separate for the sake of Castiel and it was time for him to forget the young man.

The first stop was planned for Louisville, on the border between Kentucky and Indiana. Castiel only took highways and major roads. Small paths reminded him too much the time spent with Dean going back up, watching nature around them. He wanted to be efficient and put maximum distance between him and the young man. For this, he much preferred traveling at one hundred and thirty kilometers per hours than fifty. He stopped at a fast food to grab a takeaway burger he ate on the road, parked at the edge of a lake. He checked his phone from time to time, hoping to find a text without actually thinking that he would receive one. Dean had certainly forgotten him already. Once again, it was better that way.

Kentucky was a relatively populous state but whose main resources came from agriculture and horse breeding. The roads were lined with fields and pastures where horses were running peacefully. Castiel quite liked the place. There prevailed some peace he particularly liked. He could easily imagine living in such a place, surrounded by horses and farms. He knew nothing about farming or agriculture, but he supposed he could learn. He knew it would make his parents completely enraged. It was worth reflecting on.

Once his hamburger swallowed and soda drunk, Castiel got into the car and set off again. He carefully followed the directions to Louisville, the state capital. He wanted to spend the next day there to soak up the spirit of the place. He didn't know yet if he would allow himself to. He had a clear goal in mind. Reach New York. For that, he still had to cross Ohio, Virginia and probably Pennsylvania. The road was long and he didn't really want to linger on the way. But he really loved Kentucky and he promised himself to spend a few days there on the way back.

There was hardly anyone on the road at the same time as him. Some trucks passed him, probably shuttling back and forth between the major cities of the area. He also overtook some on his route. But cars were scarce and Castiel liked even more the environment.

He allowed himself to think of Dean when he stopped to put gas near Louisville. He entered the service station to buy something to snack on the road and wondered if Dean was doing the same on the road leading to New Orleans. Castiel knew his former companion didn't really have resources and he had to work from time to time to hoard some money. He hoped he would have enough to reach his destination in one go without having to make long stops. He had the sensation that his goal was really important. He could have bet that it had something to do with Benny.

Castiel paid for purchases without actually keeping an eye on the final amount. He drawn a lot on his savings since the beginning of his trip and it would soon be time for him to think of earning some money in his turn. He could find something to do in New York. Maybe plate cleaning in a bar for a few days. He did not really have any qualifications and no degree to present. He doubted being able to find better.

When he took the road again, Castiel thought back lengthily to Dean. He hoped the young man had found someone decent to drive him to New Orleans. He still had many kilometers to cover and he would probably have to change cars several times. But he had resources. He had experience. He would succeed in reaching his goal without too much difficulty. At least, this was what Castiel liked to think.

He was driving window open to let the air cool down the inside of the car. He had read somewhere that the air conditioning used more fuel than necessary and he had every intention to save money on this point. Moreover, he liked to feel the wind on his face. He pulled his hand out the window to feel it against his palm. It was a gesture that Dean did constantly. He had never really knew why. But it was nice. That gave him the impression that nothing could stop him. That kilometers were tearing down the road. That he was totally free to go where ever he wanted. It was a simple gesture but it meant a lot for him.

He kept his eyes on the road signs when he approached Louisville. He did not really have a sense of direction and he didn't want to get lost in the middle of nowhere. He was alone now and did not want to take any chances. There were only four hundred kilometers between St. Louis and Louisville. Castiel could have crossed them in just four and a half hours. But he had taken his time. He had enjoyed the scenery, stopping here and there to watch the horses in their pen. When he finally reached the outskirts of the city, the night was beginning to fall. Castiel pulled into the parking lot of the first motel he saw and then took a room for the night. He took his bag inside before testing the bed.

When traveling with Dean, they shared the driving time fairly. But now that he was alone, Castiel had to admit that eating up kilometers in the same way was complicated. He had a slightly sore back and his legs were aching. He stretched them on the bed to get rid of the pain and then closed his eyes for a second.

The silence in the room soon became sweltering. He had shared his room with Dean only rarely but his absence seemed even harder to bear now that he was no longer driving. He had tried to ignore it, focusing on his own plans, but nothing worked. He missed Dean. Even when they were separated for the night, he knew he would see him the next day. It was enough to satisfy him. But things were different now. He would be alone again when he would leave this motel. Alone when he would cross all the states that separated him from New York. Alone when he would finally reach his destination. And in that room, this certainty of his solitude to come was unbearable. He opened his eyes and reached for the TV remote control to put an end to the silence.

He quickly zapped between channels and finally stopped on the one broadcasting the news of the day. He listened to the presenter talk about the climate that was going wrong, problems in the world and unemployment that continued to increase in the US. Obviously, things weren't improving for anyone right now. Castiel felt a bit less alone.

He then listened to journalists discuss the upcoming budget that the president had to submit in a few days. He watched them argue about whether such-and-such measure was appropriate to the situation of one or some particular category of the population. When they had finished talking, without managing to agree - Castiel was not surprised - the presenter took the floor again to talk again about the capture of the criminal he had already heard about in St. Louis. He came back again to his crimes and the death of his partner a year ago. Castiel found himself actually paying attention to what he was hearing. The certain Azazel was presented as a monster. A torturer who had raped and killed several people across the country. His accomplices were less cruel but equally dangerous. And their leader remained unknown to the police forces. They had no name or physical description. Obviously, they would never succeed in arresting him. Several people succeeded each other on set to talk about Azazel and his accomplice who had just been arrested. His name was Jake Talley, was twenty-three and had military experience. He had been chosen to become the disciple of Azazel a few months before the latter's death. He had since accumulated offenses and had been rapidly promoted among the most wanted people in the country. His arrest was a good thing according to police but raised questions as to the accomplices who might seek to free him or to take his place. Many names appeared then on screen. Castiel tried to memorize them at the same time as he was trying to remember their faces. Meg Masters. Fergus Crowley. Josie Abaddon. All were considered extremely dangerous. It was advised to stay vigilant and notify authorities if indeed one saw them. Obviously, with the death of Azazel, first lieutenant of the criminal organization of which they were all part of, and his disciple who had taken his place beside their leader, these three people were in the running for the position remained vacant. They were described as experienced and trained killers. Castiel had shivers down his spine just by looking at their faces. He however forced himself to do so to memorize them. The presenter then recalled the contact numbers if one came across one of them and gave the name of the agent in charge of the investigation. Victor Henriksen. Castiel watched him talked to the journalist who was questioning him. He was appealing. Tall, black, slender, he was a rather handsome man. But his eyes were cold and hard. He didn't seem like the kind of person you could joke with. It was probably necessary when one had to deal with criminals all day long.

Castiel listened to the rest of the news and the weather forecast to make sure it would not rain for his arrival in New York, then changed of channel. He stopped on a rerun of The Simpsons and grabbed his phone on the coffee table. He didn't have the strength to go out to eat and hoped he could get a pizza delivered. He needed a good night of sleep to ease his aching muscles and hope to do a good portion of road tomorrow.

He logged on the wifi of the motel, looked for the number of the nearest pizzeria and consulted their online menu.

He was focused on the long list of pizzas available for delivery when suddenly his phone began to ring, disconnecting him of the website where he was to show the number calling. He frowned, recognizing the name on the screen. Dean. Castiel swallowed hard and hesitated a second to pick up. This was definitely not good for him to continue to be concerned about the young man when he absolutely had to forget him. But he couldn't help it. He answered and pressed his phone against his ear.

"Dean?"

He thought for a moment that the young man had made a mistake when he got no response from him. There was noise at the end of the line and then he heard a moan. Okay. Dean had probably forgotten to lock his phone and Castiel's number had been dialed by mistake. He had to hang up. Now.

"Dean?" He called again despite himself.

He only got a new moan and Castiel then decided to hang up. It was out of the question to let himself being tormented by the young man even if it was accidental. He had to take things in hand. He was about to pull the phone away of his ear when he finally heard the voice of his former companion on the other end of the line.

"Cas… Cas?"

Castiel nodded, then, realizing that Dean could not see him, cleared his throat to speak.

"What's going on Dean? Why are you calling me?"

He hoped that his tone didn't betray too much the enjoyment he had to hear the voice of the young man. They were separated only for a day but Castiel already felt the lack. He hated himself a bit for that. A lot actually. But he could not do otherwise.

"You gotta help me Cas… You gotta help me." Dean explained after long seconds of silence.

Castiel had expected anything but that. He swallowed hard, muting the TV. He then focused on the sounds he could discern behind the voice of his former companion. He was not outside. But there was water flowing. Maybe he was in a bathroom.

"Help you to do what?"

"He got me Cas… just… I managed to escape but I can't… I didn't know who else to call. Sorry. I shouldn't bother you with all this."

Castiel immediately got up from the bed and walked to his bag without actually realizing it. He tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder and tried to somehow put on his jeans.

"Who got you Dean? Are you hurt?"

He turned on the speaker of his phone and placed it next to his bag. He then pulled on his t-shirt and a sweater. He finally looked around to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything before closing his bag and putting it on his shoulder. He then retrieved his phone, cut off the speaker and waited for the answer of Dean.

"'T's no big deal, 'tis but... a scratch."

Castiel did not believe him for one second. He knew that if that were the case, Dean would not have called. He could guess the pain he was in with the way he was talking. He had to find him and help him. He could not ignore his emergency call. He ran to his car and unlocked it with a trembling hand.

"Where are you right now?" He asked, sitting on the driver's seat.

"No, Cas, no need to come out. I'll be fine."

Castiel violently dug the keys in the ignition and then threw his bag on the seat beside him. The one Dean had occupied so far. He closed his eyes for a second.

"You called me because you needed my help and I am ready to provide it to you. But you must tell me where you are."

He waited a few seconds and was about to ask the same question when Dean finally spoke again.

"I'm still in St. Louis… I'm in my room. Castiel… I… I am bleeding a lot."

Castiel felt his heart speed up. He had guessed right. Dean was seriously injured. He immediately started the ignition and put his phone on speaker again. He didn't intend to hang up as long as he wouldn't be with the young man. He put the phone on the dashboard in front of him and then left the parking lot in reverse gear. He vaguely heard someone honk but didn't really pay attention to it.

"Dean, you must press a towel over your wound to stop the bleeding okay? Then I want you to lie on the bed and raise your legs. Can you do that for me?"

"I think so." Accepted the young man in a weak voice.

Castiel accelerated and burned a red light at a crossroad, triggering the anger of the motorists around him.

"Once you have finished, I want you to tell me where you are hurt and how you were injured all right?"

He heard Dean moving into his room for long seconds.

"He had a knife… cut me with it… to the belly… to the neck… but I don't think it's too deep. I managed to escape him you know…"

"That's good Dean… that's very good. Do you think he can track you down?"

Castiel still didn't know who was this "he" who had injured his former companion, but he could not ask the question now. He knew Dean would refuse to answer.

"No, he was knocked out when I left."

Castiel nodded, making a quick calculation in his head of the distance that separated him from St. Louis.

"Dean, I'll be there by four hours. Maybe less if I there is no one on the road. You'll have to stay awake until I arrive. I know you must be tired but you must not fall asleep."

Castiel took a few seconds to find a sign indicating the road to take. When he saw the name of St. Louis on his right, he turned and entered immediately on the fast lane. He doubted that the young man could stay four hours without falling asleep but he had to do his best to keep him awake as long as possible. He did not want to take any risks without knowing the exact extent of his injuries.

"Okay, Cas… I'm not… can you talk to me please?"

Castiel sped up a little, absolutely not caring about speed limits for now. He overtook a truck that was driving too slowly for his taste. He then began to talk about everything and nothing. He told Dean about all the tricks that Gabriel could play to him when they were young. He talked about his other siblings. The job of his parents. He talked about his intention to move to Chicago to find his niche. He then related how he had lived high school in complete anonymity then university without actually make friends. He described some of the people who had marked his schooling and eventually confided how his literature teacher in high school had captivated him. Dean intervened once or twice to approve or disapprove some of the things he was saying. He commented a few times what he was hearing. But after nearly two hours talking without stopping, Castiel was beginning to worry about the prolonged silence of his former companion for many minutes. He was still half way and was beginning to worry about being too late.

"Dean, you're still with me?" He asked.

He prayed for the young man to hear and answer him. But he only got silence.

"Dean? Dean? Answer me!"

"Cas… I think I'mma pass out now." Finally whispered the young man.

"No, no, no, no. You must hold on Dean. I'm almost here."

It was a lie of course. He still had two hours to drive. But he needed Dean to hold on and fight. He had to stay awake for a while again.

"Sorry Cas." Dean then murmured in an extremely weak voice.

Castiel violently punched the wheel. It was useless to yell. Useless to beg. He knew the young man had just lost consciousness. And it was not good at all. He could have received a blow to the head. He could have lost a lot of blood. It could be a thousand things that put his life in danger. He might be already dead when Castiel would arrive at destination. No. He refused this to happen. He accelerated again. He didn't hang up the phone and found himself talking again. He knew that Dean couldn't hear him. But the silence of the car was driving him crazy. He hoped the young man would eventually open his eyes again. And he knew he would need to hear his voice when he would wake up. If he woke up. Castiel wiped the idea of his mind and passed a car without actually bothering to check if anyone was coming across him. He quickly pulled back in and then continued to talk about his life, about his future and what he had seen on TV these days. He couldn't hear the breathing of Dean but he continued to believe that the young man would still be alive on his arrival. It could not be otherwise.

Castiel finally only took an hour and forty five minutes to reach the motel in St. Louis after Dean has passed out. He parked astride two spots without worrying to bother anyone and then ran to the room of his former companion. Fortunately the door was open. When he pushed it open, he stopped short when he saw the young man lying on the bed, knees raised as he had been asked but still unconscious. Castiel was unable to move for several seconds, watching Dean's chest. When he was sure it was heaving to the rhythm of his breathing, he ran to the bed and grabbed the young man by the shoulders. He shook him gently to try to wake him. Dean grunted one second before opening one eye and then the other.

"Am I dead?" He asked hoarsely.

Castiel shook his head, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He was so relieved that he was unable to control them. They rolled down his cheeks slowly. He sighed deeply as Dean was grabbing his phone which lay on the pillow beside him. Castiel then realized he still had not hung up his own. He would probably pay in terms of his contract but it didn't matter. He put a hand on the forehead of the young man to check if he had temperature.

"Did you receive a blow on the head?" He then asked.

Dean frowned, obviously half asleep. He seemed to need a few minutes to understand what Castiel was doing there. He eventually shook his head.

"Okay, great… that's… that's great."

Dean still seemed a bit lost. His gaze was hazy and his face too pale. Castiel detached his eyes from his forehead and withdrew his hand at the same time. Then he looked at the rest of the body of the young man and shuddered when he saw the blood stains on his chest and on the collar of his t-shirt. He would have to remove it to check his injuries.

"You think you can take it off?" He asked his former companion.

Dean tried to sit up but fell back immediately on his back with a growl. Castiel took this as a "no" and walked away from the bed to rummage in the room. Eventually he found scissors in a drawer. He came back immediately to the young man and began to cut the fabric of his shirt. Dean let him do without complaining. Castiel gritted his teeth when finally separating the sides of the shirt. The young man had not lied to him. He actually had two wounds in the torso. One on the abdomen, just above his navel and another on his neck, linking his two collarbones. They were deep. But they weren't fatal. It was the substantial loss of blood that had caused Dean's fainting fit. He would survive his injuries. But they needed to be treated.

"I'll get everything I need in the car. Don't move from here okay?" He said, walking away.

"I'm not likely to go very far in this state." Dean immediately replied.

Castiel ran to his car, grabbed his bag on the passenger seat and then locked the door and returned to the bedroom. Dean was still lying on the bed. He seemed to suffer but he had his eyes open. Castiel smiled weakly before opening his bag and settling what he needed beside the young man. Then he took the towels in the bathroom and sat down on the bed.

"I'll have to disinfect the wounds. It will probably be painful but necessary. They need to be stitched up. I would prefer you to have it done by a professional, but I can try to do it myself. I have the necessary. However, I must warn you that this will probably leave a scar. I am not a professional and I've never sutured in my life… aside from an orange once or twice and just for fun."

He realized the stupidity of his remarks about the scars when he saw Dean's face tense. He supposed that the young man did not care if his wounds left marks on his body. His torso was already completely covered in scars. Two more would probably change nothing. He opened his mouth to apologize but Dean pulled the rug out from under him.

"Do it yourself." He accepted.

Castiel nodded and began to clean the wounds with disinfectant. He felt Dean's muscles tense immediately under the influence of pain but the young man said nothing. Castiel used more disinfectant than necessary, but he had no idea of the condition of the knife that had wounded the young man and he would not take the risk to see his wounds fester. When he had finished, he grabbed the sewing kit he had stowed in his bag - and would probably have denied having if one had asked him - and grabbed a needle. He dipped it in disinfectant and tried to pass the thread through the eye.

"It's not ideal… this thread isn't meant to suture wounds. You'll have to be very careful that it doesn't yield when you'll move. And someone will have to remove it."

Dean vaguely nodded. Castiel finally managed to put the thread through the eye of the needle. He then turned back to his former companion and watched him one second.

"It also may be painful." He explained.

He waited to get a new nod before looking down at the first wound to suture. He was incredibly nervous. He didn't really know what he was doing. He had sutured the rind of some oranges to try his hand and had developed - again without admitting it to anyone - a certain ability for sewing. But stitching someone's skin was a whole new world. Yet he decided to have a go. He could not let Dean in this state and he was the only person who could do that for him. He took a deep breath and set to work. The needle pierced the skin easily and quickly, Castiel got the hang of it. He knew his work was not clean enough and that it would leave an indelible mark. But he would help the young man to recover faster and it was exactly the goal. He didn't allow himself to be distracted by the groans of pain of his former companion and finished the suture on his stomach quickly. He secured the thread so it wouldn't come undone and then took another one to care for the wound the young man had on his upper torso. He took a few seconds to cast a glance at the face of the latter. He seemed to suffer but his cheeks had regained some color and his eyes were less misted than on his arrival. His pupils were significantly dilated.

"Everything's okay?" He asked.

Dean nodded slightly before trapping his bottom lip between his teeth and biting it. Castiel supposed he was too proud to admit he was in pain and turned his eyes to refocus on the wound between his collarbones. He immediately set to work. His movements were a little more secure than a few minutes earlier and he was relatively pleased with himself. When he had finished closing the wound, he cut the thread, tied it, then threw the needle on the nightstand. He then went to the bathroom to wash his hands. When he came back on the bed, Dean was staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. Castiel took the bandage roll in his belongings and turned to the young man.

"I'm going to need you to straighten up to put a bandage on your wounds." He explained.

Dean said nothing but looked down to him. His cheeks were significantly redder than a few minutes earlier and his pupils had come to completely absorb the green irises of his eyes. He seemed to be extremely hot. Worried that he might have temperature, Castiel put a hand on his forehead covered in sweat. He wasn't particularly hot. Yet… Castiel pulled back his hand immediately, understanding what was going on. Dean let out a slight moan. For long seconds, they said nothing. Castiel didn't know what to do. He pressed the bandage in his hand.

"You… maybe I should… you need to keep the wound clean and dry and…"

He gestured toward the young man's torso without actually managing to make a complete sentence. Dean grunted, obviously once again ashamed of his state of arousal. Castiel could feel his own cheeks burning considerably. He decided to concentrate on the wounds of the young man to not think about the rest. He kept his eyes on the sutures he had just finished and then forced himself to go into action. He grabbed Dean by the shoulders and pulled him to him. He then maneuvered him until his face was buried in his neck. He then began to wrap the bandage around his torso, covering the wounds properly. When he was finished, he waited a few seconds, enjoying more than he should have the proximity of the young man. He knew he should have moved back and left some space to his ex companion. Dean was visibly excited by what Castiel had done - the pain of sutures and the tenderness of his actions if he understood how the young man worked - and it had to be uncomfortable for him to be pressed like this against another man in this state.

"Cas…" Dean murmured against his neck.

Castiel significantly pulled back his face and pushed on the shoulders of the young man to look him in the eye. What he read there was unmistakable. There was not just arousal in his eyes but something that looked remarkably like desire. Castiel swallowed hard. Their faces were very close to one another. The breath of Dean reverberated against his lips and cheeks. He wanted to kiss him. Wanted to finally know what taste could have his perfect mouth and beautiful lips. But he was not sure Dean also wanted this. So he restrained himself.

"Cas…" Dean repeated softly.

Castiel tried to smile but could begin to feel his body tense significantly. He finally bit his lip in his turn to keep himself from doing what he was dying to do. Dean seemed to understand what was going on after a few seconds. He slipped a hand between them to catch that of Castiel. He then lay down on his back again, wincing and then laid the hand of his former companion against his crotch. Castiel let out a moan when he felt the young man's erection pressed against the palm of his hand.

"Dean, what are you…" He blurted out.

But he was unable to finish his sentence. Dean had released his hand to press his own between his legs. And Castiel could no longer deny that he was at least as aroused as his former companion. It was a bad idea. It was a very bad idea. They hadn't talked about what had happened and they were probably in danger. But at that moment, he could no longer think of anything else but what he felt for the young man lying on the bed in front of him. So he wiped all his doubts out of his mind, vowing to himself to look into it the next day and went into action. He used his second hand to undo the buttons of Dean's jeans. The young man did the same with his own. Their arms collided constantly in their haste. But Castiel didn't intend to move. He absolutely didn't want to lose a second and risk to end the moment they were sharing. He waited until Dean raises his hips enough to pull down his pants and boxers and free his erection. When he took it in his hand, Dean let out a long moan. Castiel kept his eyes riveted on his penis disappearing in his hand at the rhythm of his movements. It was something he had never thought to do. Something he had never considered asking. And he knew it meant nothing. Dean was under the influence of what had happened to him. He couldn't think straight and would probably regret the incident the next day. But Castiel was tired of being reasonable. Tired of resisting and fighting constantly. He had a chance to get what he wanted and he well intended to seize it. He quickened the pace of his hand while Dean was struggling against his fly. Castiel then remembered he still had the splint on his finger. He released his cock to finish undoing his pants and then quickly got up from the bed to lower it. When he sat down, Dean immediately seized his erection in his hand. It was too fast and the position was not ideal. But that was exactly what they both needed. A quick way to release some of the pressure built up since their separation. One way to not talk about what he had to talk and delay the inevitable confrontation. Castiel got all these ideas out of his head and focused on the sensations Dean's hand was providing him. He could already feel the signs of his orgasm in the small of his back and in his belly. Dean did not seem too far behind him if the moans he let out at regular intervals were anything to tell. He had started to move his hips to accompany the movements of the hand of Castiel. This shouldn't have been so exciting. But Castiel found the young man absolutely gorgeous. He quickened significantly the pace of his wrist, rotating it when he came to the head before applying a little pressure on the way down. He then looked down at his own member that Dean's hand was circling with enthusiasm. He could not say how long it lasted. But when his orgasm hit him, he let out a guttural cry that surprised him. He came in the hand of his former companion for a few seconds before he remembered that he hadn't finished what he had started. He then continued to move his hand along Dean's cock. The young man brought his hand to his mouth to lick Castiel's sperm from his fingers. The latter moaned upon seeing him do. When he had finished, Dean grabbed his free hand and pressed it against his thigh.

"I need… I need you to…" He whispered between moans.

Castiel took a few seconds to understand what his companion was asking. Then he tightened his hand on his thigh and significantly sank his nails into his skin. It could not be very painful but obviously, it was all Dean needed to let go. He came heavily in his turn, pressing his fists against his mouth to muffle some of his moans. Castiel watched him do, utterly fascinated. He slowed down the pace of his hand and when Dean was too sensitive for him to continue to touch him, he completely withdrew it. He wiped it off on a towel he had used to clean the wounds of the young man and rose from the bed to get dressed. Dean did the same after a few seconds.

"Thanks Cas…" The young man said once he had put his pants on again.

Castiel nodded to indicate that he had heard him. He then looked around him. He could not leave Dean alone that night but there was only one bed in the room. He threw a glance to the ground. He could consider sleeping on the floor with a pillow and blanket. It was certainly better than the bathtub. Dean must have sensed his discomfort since grabbed his hand to squeeze it into his own.

"Lie down with me." He demanded.

Once again, Castiel knew he should have protested and go to sleep in the car. But he was weak and tired and didn't have the strength to say no. He contented himself with nodding again before settling next to his former companion. He pulled the blankets to put them on them and then arranged his pillow properly and rested his head on it.

"That doesn't mean anything you know." Dean assured without looking at him.

Castiel had no illusions about it. He knew that Dean didn't have feelings for him. He wasn't hoping to hear him declare his unconditional love for him simply because they had just masturbated each other. However, these few caresses had counted for him. He kept it for himself.

"Dean, the person who did that to you… do you…"

Dean put his hand against his mouth to silence him and Castiel didn't insist. His skin smelled of sex and Castiel had to hold back a moan.

"We'll talk tomorrow… I'll explain tomorrow. But I just want… For now, I just wanna sleep."

Castiel nodded. Dean then withdrew his hand from his mouth and placed it along his body. He was still on his back and did not seem to suffer as much as at the arrival of his former companion. This was undoubtedly due to what they had done a few minutes earlier. As soon as he would wake up, the pain would come back with full force. They would see at this moment. Castiel was exhausted and needed a few hours of sleep to be able to analyze what had happened. He knew he wouldn't get all his answers tomorrow. He hoped to have some. Enough to make him stay by the young man's side. He did not plan to leave again. Not after what had happened to Dean in his absence. He was glad the young man had called him for help. Glad he had trusted him enough to let him heal him. But he also knew that he was probably in danger by staying at his side. He was afraid that the young man drags him in his fall. It was inevitable. They couldn't flee indefinitely. However, Castiel refused to think about it yet. He was still under the effect of the orgasm that Dean had given him and he had every intention to enjoy it as long as it was possible. Tomorrow was another day. They would have to confront reality once again. Castiel would have to make important decisions for his future and that of Dean. He probably should have been nervous at this thought. But lying beside the young man, he felt oddly good. He paradoxically felt safe sharing the same bed with him. He could hear his breathing and feel the warmth of his body spread to his own. At this precise moment, it meant everything to him. He didn't care about the rest and he didn't care about danger. He smiled weakly, closing his eyes. He would never have believed that this day would end in this way when he had left that same motel this morning. He had thought he would never see Dean again. Never hear from him again and spend his life wondering what had happened to him. But a few hours later, they were again side by side. And if Castiel knew he had been wrong to run back at the first call of the young man, he absolutely didn't regret having done so. He was ready to face the consequences. Lying next to Dean, his scent filling his nostrils and reminding him what they had done a few minutes earlier, he felt ready for anything.