(A/ N: This one is rough and bloody. And long. But you know what's coming.
Please take care of your mental health. Lots of love, thanks for reading! FW)
A few days later, Sam sat in the library, his laptop open, medical books strewn about, and two long lists on the table. It was getting late, and Dean and Melissa were in the kitchen, loudly trading yo-mama jokes. Sam was certain as the raucous laughter increased, a bottle of something had to have been opened, and was probably half gone.
Castiel joined him. "What are these?"
"That one," Sam said, pointing, "Is what we have in the lab. The other one is what we need to get. Aside from, y'know, an actual anesthesiologist."
"We could kidnap one, but Melissa would likely object." Castiel said, looking over the lists. "It's better if you do it."
"Cas, anesthesia is dangerous stuff. That's why they have a whole separate doctor to handle it when they put someone under for surgery." Sam objected.
"I will be focused on healing her. Healing her may interfere with the anesthesia, but keeping the anesthesia available as plan b is good."
Castiel passed the inventory list back to Sam, tucking the other into his coat. "There's a recently closed hospital in Grand Rapids that has equipment stored. I'll have the rest in the lab by morning."
Sam nodded. "I have to get some sleep, try to get those two to drink some water, or they'll be hungover."
Sam had barely finished speaking when a loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by Melissa's voice. "I told you not to climb it."
"I'll see to your siblings, Sam. Goodnight." Castiel walked out of the room quickly, following the sound of another round of synchronized hushing and laughter.
Castiel stood in the doorway of the kitchen, not entirely sure he understood why Dean was on the floor in front of the refrigerator, but Melissa was silently laughing too hard to speak from her spot at the table.
"Cas... gimme a hand, I wanna try that again." Dean said, sitting up slowly.
"That's not a good idea, Dean. And we may need you to be functional tomorrow." Castiel said firmly.
"Why's'at?" Dean slurred, getting to his feet.
Castiel glanced at Melissa, who was calming down. Dean looked to her, and suddenly his smile was gone. "Yeah, okay."
Melissa looked back and forth between them. "What? What happened to Spider-man looking for where Sam hides the oreos? That was awesome."
Dean chuckled half-heartedly. "That was awesome, but, I think I busted up my back on that last attempt. Maybe we should call it a night."
Melissa shook her head a little too hard. "C'mon, you said we were gonna try out that Letters hooch Sam doesn't know about."
Dean nodded, "Yeah, we'll do that, tomorrow night, okay? If you're up to it. No hurry. It's not gonna go bad one more night on the shelf."
Melissa got to her feet, stepping lightly, and started to giggle, as she made her way to lean on Castiel. "Yo mama..."
"Don't talk about my mama, bitch." Dean said, chuckling.
"Yo mama's so fat, she walked by the tv and I missed a whole season."
Dean laughed, "Yo mama's so ugly... no, actually, I can't. I can't.. She was really pretty..."
"Yeah," Melissa said, "Sorry... yours too, that was a really nice picture you showed me. I wish I had pictures..."
"You mean like with dad?" Dean slurred.
"Yeah... no, wait, you know what, no... fuck no... Nevermind." Melissa said. "I had a different dad... You would have liked him. Rich... He was a good person. Used to braid my hair in pigtails before I went to school..."
"I'm glad you had that. Really." Dean said, turning to Castiel. "Okay, I guess everyone needs to get ready for a full day tomorrow, huh?"
Castiel nodded.
Melissa began to stir, and immediately regretted it. She was about to open her eyes when a set of soft lips met her own, and her headache was gone.
"Mmn. You do that for Dean's hangover too?" Melissa asked, stretching.
"I don't believe he'd appreciate that type of contact from me." Castiel said dryly, slipping his hand out of her hair.
"What you said last night, are we really going to try this today?" Melissa asked, sitting up.
Castiel nodded. "We have a plan, and there's no reason it shouldn't work. But Sam says you'll need to do this on an empty stomach."
"Okay. I'm not really hungry, anyway."
Castiel looked at the thin fabric of her shirt. It was snug enough that the scars interrupted the design in a nearly imperceptible way.
"May I look them over, again?" Castiel asked, placing a hand on the side of her back that bore no markings.
"Knock yourself out. They'll be gone soon." Melissa said, peeling off her shirt. She lay down again, bringing her right side closer to him.
Castiel ran his hand along the clear side of her back, feeling the smooth, soft skin, while looking at the side that had designs both raised and sunken. Certain there was no way he could become more familiar with the flesh that needed to be removed, he pulled at her to hint that she should roll over toward him.
She complied, and looked up into his eyes, seemingly waiting on another kiss. He tried not to let his eyes roam over her bare breasts as he put an arm over her.
"Melissa, I need to make sure you understand... There are risks to removing the scars. If something goes wrong, however unlikely, death is a possibility."
"But they'll be gone, and I can die without being stuck, right?" Melissa asked.
Castiel nodded.
"I'm okay with that." She said softly. "How full are your batteries?"
Castiel looked away, attempting to distract himself. "Not exactly full. But I don't want you to overdo it."
"You could overdo it to me." Melissa said with a smirk. "I'd feel safer knowing you're on a full charge, anyway."
Castiel covered her mouth with his own, quickly slipping his hand into the blanket. He followed the feel of her bare skin into the waistband, finding her tight curls and sinking his fingers between her lips. He gently spread her open with his thumb and smallest finger, pressing the other three inside, his hand giving off a glow below the blanket.
She moaned, writhed, and clutched at his clothes as his grace purposefully activated her nerves. He curled his fingers to give gentle pressure as his mouth continued to devour her every sound. He flexed his palm against her as her body shook and thrashed, pulling at him, her breaths broken.
Her loudest screams completed, he broke away from her mouth, taking the moderate amount of grace from her throat, continuing his firm, slow motions as she came down from her earth shattering ecstasy.
Melissa was still breathing heavily as she made an attempt to burrow against him. She managed to get a hand inside of his shirt, still running in her primal mind.
Castiel quieted her. "Melissa... let's just stay like this for a little while."
Still breathless, she moved her hand up to the skin on his chest and lay back. He put his head down on her shoulder, leaving his hand where it was.
Dean walked into the lab, a half full bottle of water in one hand, and a full one in the other.
Sam was sitting next to a metal rolling cart, looking at a manual, and studying the gauges on the side.
"You know how all this stuff works?" Dean asked, trying to sound tough, but his voice gave away a nervous tone.
"Basically. But this is all just a backup plan, we can't run these while Cas is healing her, he might undo the anesthesia on accident." Sam said, sitting up.
"Then what happens?" Dean asked, looking at a large tank of gas.
"I ran through this whole plan with Cas, he's going to knock her out so she doesn't feel the needle, then I'll put in the starter piece for the I.V., and get an air tube down her throat. He'll know if anything goes wrong, and it'll all be in place ready to go if he can't keep her out for some reason."
"If we have to use this stuff to keep her out, what if I take a chunk off her, and he can't heal her?"
Sam stood up. "We don't have a way to plan for that, Dean. We just have to cross our fingers. Now you said what you needed, she can't wake up, and she can't feel it. That's covered. But there's no way this was ever going to be easy."
Dean nodded, continuing to look over the instruments. "I don't know if I can use this stuff."
"Cas said he didn't want to get started just yet, so if you think you can do better with something else, it's time to get it ready." Sam said, moving the cart closer to the table.
Dean nodded, "Yeah, I guess it's better if I've got something more familar, right? Something I've got practice with?... I'm going to sharpen the demon knife."
Sam looked up. "Ruby's knife?... You're gonna use that?"
"Yeah, well, I can't make any mistakes today, Sammy." Dean said, walking out.
'And if this goes wrong, she won't be coming back...' He thought gravely.
Dean shoved another bite of his toaster pastry into his mouth, and continued to sharpen the blade as he chewed. He knew it had been nearly half an hour, and it didn't seem to be making it any sharper.
He ran it down a piece of paper, separating it into pieces easily, no hint of a snag anywhere on the edge.
He knew the weapon was ready. He wasn't so sure about himself.
Melissa came into the library. "Hey. You're not hung over, are you?"
"Nah, I'm good," Dean said, faking a smile, and reaching for his water.
"What's that?" She asked, pointing out the knife.
"That... that is an ancient, Kurdish demon-killing tool."
"Looks sharp." she said, sitting down.
"Yeah, I hope so." Dean said, trying not to sound serious, but failing. "Hate to think what would happen if it wasn't."
Dean popped the rest of his pastry into his mouth as Castiel entered the room. He gestured to the table. "I see you're preparing."
Dean just about choked. "What?"
"Eating to keep your energy up is wise. I hope Sam did the same."
Dean nodded, and looked back to Melissa. She was still looking at the knife on the table.
"I can't do this. Not like this." Dean said. "You have to know."
"Dean, don't." Castiel warned.
Sam came through the archway just in time to catch the tension. "What's going on?"
"You said she's okay with this, but how can she be okay with it if she doesn't know how it's going to happen?" Dean said.
"Dean, can we talk about this somewhere else?" Sam asked quickly.
Dean shook his head and started to open his mouth.
"Maybe," Melissa said loudly, getting out of her chair. "I don't want to hear it. Pretty sure I know what you're going to do, okay? But hearing it, that makes it too real. I don't want to hear something that's going to make me think twice about trusting you. Any of you. You're trying to help me, I know that, that's what I want to focus on."
She picked up the knife by the back of the blade, holding the handle out to Dean. "Please... if you care, please don't say a goddamn thing. I'd rather never know. But I trust you to help me."
Dean nodded sadly, and reached for the handle. The moment he took it, Castiel stepped behind Melissa, bringing his hand up to her neck, knocking her out and catching her as Dean took the knife.
Castiel scooped up her limp body, and addressed Dean. "I'll understand if you need a moment, but please join us shortly. I'll be helping Sam."
Dean nodded, and looked at his brother. Sam threw him a look of sympathy and regret, likely considering their rather messed up lives, before turning to follow Castiel.
Sam supported Melissa's head and shoulders as Castiel put her down on the table.
"Okay, I should be able to get the saline lock in, but..." Sam handed him the tools to get her intubated. Castiel took them with a nod and moved to stand at her head as Sam picked up a needle and alcohol wipe and approached her arm.
Castiel opened her mouth and slipped the placement blade into her throat, guiding the tube in carefully. He pulled the blade out as Sam stood up.
"Did it work?" Sam asked.
"Yes, her airway is being held open, and she wasn't injured by the placement."
"Okay... that covers everything but local, just make sure you're really clear about it if you're not keeping up, that way I can get this stuff moving right away." Sam said, reaching for the heart rate monitor.
Castiel waited while Sam finished double checking everything was functional and ready to start.
"Okay, I found the head piece for this table, we'll turn her over, and it'll slide into place around the tube." Sam said picking up one more piece of equipment, but he froze where he was, looking at the doorway.
Dean stood there, looking shaken. "I guess we're about ready, then, since she's got tubes sticking out of her."
"It would have been far less intrusive if you didn't require them." Castiel said with a hint of attitude.
"Yeah, well..." Dean said, gesturing to Melissa with the knife. He looked as though he immediately regretted the action, and hung his head. "I guess we should sterilize this thing?"
Dean held the knife out sideways, waiting for one of them to take it. Castiel simply held a hand out toward it for a moment, before turning back to the table.
Castiel slowly rolled Melissa's body over, and held her head in place as Sam installed the head piece around the tube.
Sam stood upright again and turned to Dean, "We're ready... Can you do this?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah... I don't want to, but I can... I guess I should wash up, huh?"
"That won't be necessary, Dean, I can sterilize your hands." Castiel answered.
"As long as that's the only part of me." Dean muttered, moving to the side of the table.
Sam added a long arm to the table, using two straps to hold Melissa's right arm out to the side.
"Do we really have to do that?" Dean asked, pain obvious in his voice.
"You're cutting into muscle, it might cause movement... We don't want to take any chances, right?" Sam replied, moving to sit on a stool by Melissa's head.
"Okay... are we missing anything?" Dean asked, looking at the large, deep stainless steel tray on an otherwise empty cart next to him.
Castiel motioned him closer, and reached over Melissa's back, passing his hands over Dean's, causing a cold electric tingle. He looked up, meeting Dean's eyes. "She's out, Dean. She won't be aware of any of this. I promise."
Dean nodded, swallowing hard, and pulled the edge of her shirt up, exposing the scars. For a moment, it occurred to him, he was standing in the same place his father had, ready to cut into the same flesh, of the same flesh and blood.
Dean shook his head, putting his hand down on the same design he'd willingly had tattooed on his own skin, muttering. "God, how could he do this...?"
"Dean?..." Sam said firmly. "You gotta stay focused."
Dean took a deep breath and nodded. "Heal her in chunks, right?... How big?"
Castiel held up his first finger and thumb about an inch apart. "Start small, and we'll adjust as needed. But make sure you get deep enough to take the entire scar."
Dean turned the knife to the angle he thought he'd need, and pressed down, pulling the edge to the side, slicing into Melissa's flesh. Her blood spilled over the cut as he took hold with his empty hand, and sliced in a little deeper before coming away with a piece of skin and muscle roughly the size of the end of his thumb.
"Sam?... Is she okay?" Dean asked, watching closely as Castiel put his hands down on Melissa's back, and a piece of healthy flesh appeared, filling the gap he'd just made.
"Her heart rate didn't change at all. She's still under."
Dean put the piece into the empty tray, and moved to cut out another piece. This time, he found it more difficult, having to cut into the brand new skin to make sure all of the scar tissue came out. "This is the one that keeps her in, right?... If we have to stop early, I want to know we got that one first."
"That's correct. This one is the priority." Castiel affirmed, as he healed her again. "We will still have to burn the pieces, and she'd probably prefer not to see pieces of herself when she wakes. It can be very disconcerting."
Sam and Dean shared a look before each looking back to Castiel.
Dean progressively cut larger pieces until Castiel asked him to go a slight bit smaller. They began to develop a rhythm, where Dean would be putting the pieces into the tray, and the new flesh would be there when he turned to make the next cut.
"You missed some... There, between those two ribs." Castiel said as Dean turned to find the hole he had left empty.
"I don't know if I can get it." Dean said.
"Try. It all has to be removed." Castiel said insistently.
Dean gave it another shot, and came away with a tiny piece.
"Move, get the blade out of the way!" Castiel said quickly, healing her as Dean jumped back, bumping into some of the equipment.
"What? What happened?" Dean asked.
"You knicked her lung... she's all right now."
Dean looked at Sam, who checked the monitors again. "He's right, she's still good."
Dean looked down at the progress they'd made so far. "Is that it?... We got the whole thing, she's not stuck anymore?"
Castiel nodded. "Once it's been burned, she'll be completely unaffected."
"So, we could stop now." Dean said, cautiously. "We could just stop right now, the rest isn't important."
"What? No!" Sam said. "It's all got to come off."
"Why? An anti-possession symbol, and something that keeps her from making deals, that's just smart. Think about it."
"It wasn't her choice to receive these marks in the first place, Dean." Castiel said firmly. "I understand you didn't want to do this in the first place, but that was a choice your father made for her, and you have seen the horrific repercussions of that choice. But it's not your place to make that decision for her either."
Dean looked at the slight discoloration barely visible in the bright light. The brand new skin that had never yet been exposed to sunlight carried a fading seam of white where it joined the original skin.
"Dean, if you need to take a break, if you want to try again tomorrow-" Sam started.
"No... No, there's no reason to put her through this again. She wants it gone, I'll make it happen." Dean said, stepping back into place, and nodding to Castiel to get ready.
The rhythm of cutting and healing resumed, Sam keeping a vigilant eye on the monitors, and on Dean.
Finally, he took his hands away, holding the knife in one hand, and the last piece of Melissa's scarred flesh in the other. His hands were covered in blood, his face smeared, except for where his own sweat had washed it away. Dean turned to face his brother, still looking at the piece of flesh he held.
"Sam..." Dean said softly. "Do you think dad knew how bad it was going to get for her?"
Worry was written on Sam's face as he looked at his brother, wondering exactly how much he had had to fight his own less-than-literal demons to make through the procedure.
Castiel looked up, having healed the last cut. He was obviously exhausted and nearly out of grace, and also perturbed by the way Dean was speaking. "Sam, I think I can take it from here."
Sam nodded and took Dean by the shoulders, guiding him to drop the last piece in the tray, and hurrying him out of the room.
Castiel waited until they were gone before running his fingers over the new flesh fondly, and pulling the waistband down. The shirt had been stained, but for him, it would be salvageable.
He carefully slid his arm under the front of her shoulders, and down the center of her chest, pulling the head piece out of the side of the table with his other hand. He gripped her carefully and turned her to lay on her back, moving her lower to rest her head on the table.
The red marks on the sides of her face were a testament to the length of time she'd been unconscious with her face supported by the head piece.
Delicately, Castiel removed the breathing tube, and stroked the side of her face. "Honeybee..."
Healing her and keeping her unconscious had taken almost everything he had. He lifted the block he'd put on her mind, and waited...
In no time at all, if a little disoriented and uncomfortable, she would wake...
It was taking a bit longer than he expected...
Realization struck him. Something was wrong...
"SAM!"