Chapter 11
AN:WOW. I can't believe all the feedback I've gotten since the last chapter. THANK YOU.
Disclaimer: Not mine, still Kripkes and CWs.
Dean finished wrapping his hands, waiting on Cas's response.
Cas looked overwhelmed and overly excited, gazing at the equipment in excitement.
"Tell ya what, hit up the bags for a bit. We'll see how you feel from there, ok?" Cas nodded, stretching his arms above his head, his tee shirt riding up slightly. But Dean didn't notice that. At all.
He averted his eyes, feeling shame wave over him even as Cas walked over to the hanging vintage punching bags.
He was stretching, hearing the first sounds of impact on the leather; he heard the occasional grunt and the heavy breathing of his friend exercising. Dean really didn't exercise; he figured digging up graves, chasing demons, witches and ghosts more than made up for the double cheese burgers and beer. He was just biding his time, he didn't want to leave Cas down here by himself. Didn't seem right in his state.
He was lost deep in his thoughts, and for a moment didn't realize that the sounds coming from Cas where becoming less and less rhythmic and more harsh and frustrated.
Dean looked behind him to see Cas pummeling the bag, his face red with exertion, sweat pouring down him and his fists hammering into the bag over and over.
"Hey Cas, wanna take it down a notch?" He called, getting a little concerned at the force behind the punches the ex angel was dishing out.
But he didn't stop, if anything his grunts got louder and the smack of fists on leather got more intense.
"Cas!" He exclaimed, getting up and stalking over to the heaving man, grabbing his forearm mid swing.
Cas looked up, eyes wide and chest heaving- Sweat poured down his face, drenching his shirt.
"Cas. Slow down."
Instead of him standing down, a small vein pulsed in his forehead and he wanked his arm out of Dean's grasp.
"What the hell Cas?" Dean yelled, pushing back on Cas's chest instinctively.
That was it; something in Cas seemed to snap. Growling, he launched himself at Dean, catching him off guard with a quick upper cut. Dean stumbled back as Cas's knuckles caught him hard in the cheek, knocking him back.
Dean stumbled back into the closet bag, looking at Cas in complete bewilderment, and then rage.
"You stupid son of a bitch!" He roared, running back at Cas and shoving him hard against the wall, effectively pinning him there, hands on his shoulders. "What the hell is your problem?"
Instead of answering, Cas effectively kneed him in the groin. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to push Dean away from him.
"Get off of me!" He yelled, his face red and hands curled right into fists.
Dean, finally able to stand, held up his hands, still wheezing a bit.
"Calm down." He tried to reason. Cas put his hands down, chest heaving and panic etched on his face.
Dean took his chance, propelling him back against the wall, this time effectively pinning his arms down and using his knee to prevent a repeat of last time.
"Cas.' He grunted, leveling his gaze to meet Cas's shifting one. 'Just stop and talk to me."
Cas finally looked at Dean, and his face crumbled. "Dean." He choked, tears spilling freely.
"Dammit, Cas." Dean muttered, his stomach knotting as Cas feel apart in front of him.
"I could barely move the bag." He whispered, his voice wrecked. "I used to lift cars without a second thought and now...' He trailed off, closing his eyes. 'I am useless Dean. I am no use to anyone."
Dean was already shaking his head, letting go of one of Cas's shoulder to grip his chin tightly, forcing him to look up.
"You are not worthless. You have done a hell of a lot of good in this world and you are wanted here." Cas trembled underneath his touch.
"How many times do I need to tell you that we need you?"
Eyes glassy, Cas nodded, choking back a sob that threatened to break free of his lips he was trying so hard to keep tightly closed.
Deans head was swimming due to the proximity to his friend, Cas was leaning heavily on him on him now, and Dean loosened his hold on the shaking man. As soon as Dean let go, Cas went to his knees, dry heaving almost immediately.
Gingerly, Dean laid a hand on Castiel, trying to soothe him as best he could. Truth be told, his face hurt, his heart was beating out of his chest and the constant contact with Cas was getting to him. And he wasn't handling it well.
"I'm sorry." The smaller man whispered, looking up guiltily at Dean. "I shouldn't have hurt you."
Dean forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes, and shrugged.
"Still got a hell of a right hook on ya man."
Cas back down at the floor.
"If you want me to leave I understand." He paused, shutting his eyes-waiting for Deans response.
Sighing, he crouched next to Castiel. "Let's get you to your room. And we need to get you some clothes, can't keep wearing mine."
Cas looked up incredulous, accepting Deans help up.
"Dean, I-"
Dean just shook his head, cutting him off.
"Its ok." He looked at the confused, wide eyed man in front of him, his stomach flip flopping. "It's ok."
SPNSPNSPNSPN
Dean went to the kitchen to grab some frozen peas for his face, it was throbbing. Man still had some insane upper body strength.
"Dude what happened to your face?" Gasped Kevin incredulously.
Dean shrugged. "Just a little sparing with Cas. Got a little intense."
Sam was staring at him curiously, watching Dean from across the table.
"What?" Dean asked, irritated at the attention.
"I think I found us a hunt." Sam said, bringing his attention to his laptop. "Just about two hours from here. Seems like a simple salt and burn."
"You want to go on a hunt?" Dean asked incredulously. "Dude, I just got you to where you don't look like you're going to fall over and you want to go after a ghost?" Dean shook his head, sitting down at the long table. Kevin sat between them, tablet on the table, simply watching their interaction.
"I'll go." Came a voice behind them. Cas stood in the hall way, still drenched in sweat from the sparing and holding a glass of water. "The practice would be valuable, and the change of scenery would be pleasing."
Dean's face fell quickly to a blank, angry glare.
"No frikken way." He stood up, slamming the thawing peas back into the freezer.
"But Dean-"
"I said no, Cas!" Dean yelled, slamming the freezer door with more force then necessary.
Dean felt the bubbling anger boiling inside him, so he pushed his way passed Cas, ignoring Sam's exasperated pleas to sit down and stalked off to his bedroom.
He slammed the door hard, even as he did so he realized how childish he was being, but at that point he didn't care.
What the hell where they all thinking? Cas is barely recovered, Sam just is starting to look healthy and they think a hunt just sounds like a perfect idea at the moment.
He was pacing back and forth when he heard a sharp knocking on his door.
"Go away." He snapped.
"Dean may I please speak with you." Came Cas's muffled voice behind the door.
Dean stopped, groaning annoyed, he swung open the door.
"You have 5 minutes."
"Dean I do not understand why you are opposed to the proposition. I am centuries old and have been fighting before the earth was formed.' He paused, looking a bit hurt. 'Do you find me so weak that you think I cannot handle a simple ghost?"
"Cas, its like that..."
"Then what is it?" Castiel inquired his trademark head tilt catching Dean off guard. His anger and frustration today, the way he moves, it so reminding him of the Cas he knows, the the badass angel that lifted him from hell. Shit.
"Shit, I don't know Cas. Just don't want you to get hurt.' He stumbled over his words, 'you or Sammy."
"Dean, someone has to protect these people. I want to help." Cas paused, looking down. "I need to feel useful."
Dean didn't know if it was the broken sound of Cas's voice, or the fact that ever since Sam mentioned the hunt, there was an itch at the back of his mind. The stress of everything was getting to him, between Sam and Cas he had a lot on I his plate and it sure would feel good to just burn some shit. Get back to things that make sense.
"Yea, ok.' He pushed pass Cas, who was staring at him surprised, to open his door. "Leave tomorrow, better get some sleep." He gestured to the hall, which Cas obediently followed.
Dean shut the door before Cas could follow through with whatever he was going to ask.
Opening his closet, he combed through his rag tag assortment of clothes and pushed back a few boxes that held what very few possessions he owned, finally pulling the beat up green duffel bag from the back. A few things remained inside, a fully stocked first aid kit, a couple crumpled protein bars and a blood stained rag he tossed in the trash can.
He realized he was shaking a bit as he packed a change of clothing into the bag; he was nervous. But not for what most people would be nervous before walking into a ghost infested hell hole, but the fact that this would be the first hunt Cas had been on since he fell, Sam would be alone again and he'd be looking out for not only his ass this time, but the fallen angels as well.
He packed his clothing and checked the first aid kit before collapsing on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Chewing his bottom lip for a moment, he made heaved a sigh before pushing open his bedside drawer and pulling out a small hidden flask he tucked away some tattered books he hid from Sam. He hadn't drank anything harder than beer for awhile now, he'd kept his alcoholism under control, but tonight he needed it. At least that's what he told himself as he took a swig, the whiskey having a distinct metal taste from sitting in the flask for so long. But it went down smooth and took the edge off and that's all that he told himself.
He turned off the light, tucking the flask near his hip, not even bothering to say goodnight or even take off his shoes.
He was asleep before he knew what hit him.
SPNSPSNSPNSPN
Dean woke with a start. Something wasn't right.
He sprung out of bed, immediately regretting his decision. His head pounded and he mouth felt like sandpaper. He stumbled into the bathroom, gulping down water from the sink, letting it run down his chin.
It hit him like a ton of bricks.
Cas.
He grabbed his phone and looked at the time in horror;9am.
He sprinted out of his room and down the hall, carefully walking silently around Sam's closed door. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes as he opened Cas's door. It was still dark, the light casting a yellow light on the deserted bed.
He raised a hand to his mouth, closing his eyes as he found Castiel curled in the corner, eyes tightly screwed shut. His blanket twisted around his feet, Dean could make out toppled over lamp and strewn pillows showing an obvious signs of struggle.
"Dammit Cas. I'm so sorry man." He whispered. Kneeling next to the man, he carefully drew him to his chest, heaving him up and carrying him over to his bed. He barely stirred, if anything he snuggled deeper into Dean's embrace.
Dean set him down, pulling the covers up over the sleeping man.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here Cas."
His hand reached to pat his head, the urge to touch him almost overwhelming him. But he stopped himself, hand hovering and closing into empty space.
Slowly he walked out of the room, feeling worse than he had before.
AN: OK I promise good stuff is happening soon. I'm really trying to stay true to the show and kind of show the emotional turmoil before I just jump into it.
On another note, thank you for all the reviews and faves/follows. It really means a lot and really motivates me to write. Working on the other chapter as we speak, and this will have a lot more action and some good Dean/Cas interactions.
Peace out!
