For a moment, which for Dean seemed like forever, he only sat there, collapsed against the floor but still at the moment on one piece, body all numb and sluggish, only feeling in his whole body the rough, cold douple barrel of that fucking shotgun against his underside of his chin. He gulped, feeling his Adam's apple move against the gun under his skin.

"I'll do it." Dean's voice seemed to be absolute, but Castiel heard tiny grue of uncertainity. Man glazed to Castiel with half-opened, hazel eyes, eyelashes laying dark shadows under his eyes. His eyes were darkened, sad, broken, and Castiel knew it, knew it well. Even when the air was as cold as it was now, Dean being only on his t-shirt when Castiel had undressed him from his jacket.

"No, you're not going to do it Dean. You're scared. You're insecure. You love your brother too much and don't want him to go through same things he did in your time in Hell", Castiel spoke, turning now fully towards Dean, hand clenching on a fist on the windowsill. Fast hint of anger glinted on Dean's eyes, and he pulled himself together, shaped up and straightened his back a little, slamming his head against the wall.

"I will. I swear", he said, as he whacked the barrel against his skin again, putting some pressure on the trigger. Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"I'll fucking pay my dept to you Cas. By my brain scat on the walls, with my blood", Dean said, starting slowly and calmly, but ended up screaming the last sentence. His mouth had turned into twisted grimace, and his lips shook the way that told Castiel that he wasn't far away from cracking up.

Dean breathed hard, corner of his eye twitching once or twice, when he put just little more pressure on trigger. Little more and he'd be kicked far above the stars and then right down where he had been pulled from. Of course he didn't want that. Or...?

"Dean. Put the gun down", Castiel said, emphasizing every single words he let out. He took a step closer, which made Dean only weigh the gun harder, making the sawed off barrels sink on his skin, scratching it until it bled. Round, deepish cut right under his chin.

"DEAN." Castiel sounded demanding, almost pissed off if even possible. In a blink of an eye, Dean pulled the trigger, gun went off. Shots sank deep, ripping everything on their way. Gunpowder reeked in the air.

But there was almost no blood anywhere.

Pantings filled up the air. Dean was still sitting spinelessly against the door. But it wasn't his head that had been cracked up and splattered all around the walls. No. He was just fine. Startled to death by the shot, but fine. Sweatdrops ran down his temples, his hazel eyes were clear and wide open now. His mouth had formed round 'O' and he breathed in fast, sharp and airless.

His hands were still on the gun's handle, but gun wasn't anymore under his chin.

In a the hundredth part of a second, Castiel had teleported himself to Dean, knowing that the shot was about to come. Now he sat straddled on Dean's thighs, long, slender fingers wadded around his wrists and pulling his hands away from himself.

Castiel panted hard, bright blue eyes staring fiercely at Dean, teeth showing.

He had spreaded his black, massive wings, and they were quivered, casting dark shadows upon them. Dean stared at them in a shocked, speechless state. He hadn't seen the wings in a long, long time.

"Ah..." He let out silent wince and let go of the gun. Castiel laid it on the floor and kind of slumped towards Dean. Dean grapped him before he did.

"Cas! Cas, what..." It was just fright that had gotten into Castiel, and couple of shots had hit him in the shoulder. It was nothing that Castiel couldn't cope with but... For Dean it was like a kick in the stomach. It evacuated his lungs and for a while it was hard to breath for him. HE had did this.

"Castiel! Castiel I'm..." His heart pounded hard against his ribs. He lifted his hands to Castiel's jacket, pulling it off without even asking to see the damage he had done. Blood welled up quickly from the couple of wounds on shoulder and absorbed on his white shirt with ripped holes in it.

"Oh fuck! Cas I'm..." Castiel, who dangled his head shook it a little and took a small breath, lifting his other hand and pressing his index finger on Dean's lips telling simply 'shut up'. Castiel straightened his back and unbuttoned his shirt fast and smooth, pulling it off. First thing Dean saw was old scar from angel banishing sigil Castiel and him had carved on his chest once. Wound had never healed. Or maybe Castiel just hadn't allowed it to.

The wound on the shoulder looked pretty nasty. Skin had ripped and flesh was hanging in strings every now and there, and the wound was deep. Some of the shots had gone right through, when rest of them had either sank on his flesh or in the ceiling, where the mortar peeled off by the hit.

Castiel placed his hand on his shoulder, and with one brush the shots pushed themselves out, and dropped heavily on Dean's legs and to the floor. Skin gathered up quickly, and in no time there was no trace of a wound at all. Castiel breathed in deeply, eyes closed.

Finally he stood up, returning his blue glaze to Dean, as he folded his large, black wings against his back.

"It's better if you leave now..."

"Cas!"

"Dean." It was clear that Castiel didn't want Dean to speak no more. Silently he stood up, glaring at angel.

"I'm sorry, Cas. I never meant..."
"Leave, Dean."

"Cas, I..." Words tangled in his throat.

"I know", Castiel said, like reading his mind. He looked him over his shoulder, tips of his wondrous wings thrilling. Dean swallowed nothing and walked to him.

"I never meant it to be this way. Cas... I love you", he said silently, struggling with his words like he was about to choke on them, placing his palms on former angel's bare back, just under the spot where the wings united with his fair skin. He brushed it slightly, before laying his sweaty forehead against the back of his neck. He felt Castiel tremble and his feather brush his bare hands.

"Leave. Now."