Chapter Two

Heeeeeeeeeeeey, this chapter turned out much longer than I thought, so I split it in two to be able to post something sooner! Not sure how satisfied I am with it, but anyway. I hope you're gonna like it. I'm gonna go to sleep now, it's 2am and I have an exam tmr, oops.

Would love to hear your thoughts afterwards!

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

Dean would do anything in his power to help.

Even if he couldn't set a foot near that room. He'd do everything he could outside of Cas' reach, make food and bring water, run errands, whatever the angel might need. (His angel, Dean's brain insisted on providing very unhelpfully, for he was well aware that that had never been further from the truth than now.)

He'd already burned the clothes, found them scattered across the floor when he cleaned his room, his own carelessly discarded, Cas' forcefully thrown aside and torn. Dean burned them with the sheets.

Everything except for the trenchcoat. He couldn't bring himself to destroy it, couldn't make his fingers unclench as he held it above the flames. It was stored away safely in a closet of one of the spare rooms right now, waiting for Cas if he ever wanted it back.

"Dean?"

His head snapped up from where he stood leaning over the kitchen sink, white knuckles around the counter, just then realising that he'd been motionlessly staring at the slowly dissolving bubbles for several long minutes.

"He...ah." Sam stood in the doorway, brushing a strand of hair out of his furrowed forehead.

"Is he awake?"

Sam shook his head.

"He's sleeping, but-"

"Then why are you here?" Dean unceremoniously turned back to the sink, not bothering with picking any of the dishes up and even pretend to be working. "You should be with him. Let him rest. He needs it", Dean said darkly, clenching his teeth. "But we agreed not to leave him alone."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's just..." He could hear steps behind him, his brother coming up to lean against the counter beside him where Dean could see him from the corner of his eye. But he didn't look, eyes fixed in front of him.

Sam sighed.

"He talks in his sleep", he finally said carefully, lifting his hands in a soothing gesture at the plain shock and that formed on Dean's face when it suddenly snapped around. " Nonono, I didn't hear anything about-...it's just...mumbled words from time to time", he assured, watching his brother's shoulders relax slightly. "But he...he said your name. I just thought you might want to know that."

Dean swallowed hard, desperately trying to force the small spark of hope he could feel emerging back into the dark pit it had come from.

"That doesn't mean anything", he said, told his brother as much as himself. "It could just be...memories." His voice dissolved into a whisper by the end of the sentence, his eyes squeezed shut at the painful thought that Cas might be reliving any of those horrors right now, even in his state of unconsciousness.

"Yeah...I guess." Sam didn't look convinced. "Or it could be a good sign."

"Sam..."

"Dean, I don't-" Sam sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dean, I don't think this will be working. You...you can't keep that up, man. It's gonna destroy you, Dean. You...you need him", he said, making Dean flinch, his eyes widen. "You know I'm right."

He could have denied it. Could have said that he was fine, the same lie he was so used to telling he almost could have believed it himself at times. He could have told him that he was wrong, that as long as he knew he did what was best for Cas, he'd be good.

"I know", was what left his lips instead, truth whispered into silence.

"He needs you, too, you know?"

Dean shook his head forcefully, a desperate attempt not to let any of Sam's words make his determination falter.

He doesn't. He never did. He needs me to stay away.

"Won't you go to him?", Sam went on, merciless and unaware of it. "Please, Dean, just for half an hour."

Dean felt like his feelings were tearing him apart from the inside out.

He wanted to see Cas. God, he desperately craved to see Cas, just sit there and look at him, watch him breathe, watch his bruises fade, his cuts crust over, his pain vanish. He wanted to hold him in his sleep and comb his fingers through that unruly hair and whisper words of home and family and safety, words of...of-

But at the same time, he was terribly scared. He didn't know how it would be, laying eyes on Cas, seeing all the damage he'd done. He couldn't even stand the thought of it, let alone see it with his own eyes, the undeniable and tangible, real proof of what he'd done, of what Cas had gone through, was still going through.

But it didn't matter what Dean felt, anyway.

Do what's best for Cas, he told himself for the hundredth time in the last few hours.

"I-"

"It's been more than two days", Sam broke him off, driving a hand over his face in a gesture of exhaustion. "His state hasn't changed, he won't know you're there, and I'm tired, Dean. I don't wanna leave him alone, but I need sleep, man. Just half an hour. Please. For both of us."

It was true. It had been two days, and Cas had barely been conscious. He was asleep most of the time, Sam had told him, and when he showed signs of waking, unconsciousness had swallowed him up again before he could really acknowledge anything around him. His body was probably exhausted, worn out from dealing with trauma, pain, and the unfamiliarity of human weakness. He probably just needed time to adapt, Dean told himself, tried and failed to convince his own mind that there was nothing to worry about.

But worry he did. Of course he did. And it was torture, having to rely on Sam for every information about Cas' condition, his feet leading him to the angel's room of their own accord, only to be forced away again once they reached the threshold.

"Fine."

Dean pressed his teeth together, praying he wouldn't have to regret this. But Sam sighed in relief, rubbing tired eyes. His brother was right, he needed sleep (so did Dean, but he couldn't even think of closing his eyes), and Dean knew he needed to see Cas, just once, just one more time.

So he went.

~oOo~

The room was dark and quiet when Dean slowly stepped inside, closing the door behind him with as little noise as possible. He couldn't see much from this angle, just a sleeping figure on the bed, covered by white sheets, slowly moving up and down in the rhythm of his breathing. It seemed quite peaceful, hadn't he stepped closer there would have been no sign of anything more to the scene than someone resting through the night.

There was a chair set next to one side of the bed and Dean felt his feet slowly move towards it, eyes never leaving Cas as the angel came into better view with every hesitant step he took.

Most of Cas' body was thankfully hidden beneath the blanket, but there was an arm splayed out on top of it, scratch marks across the shoulder, a hint of the bandages visible that covered his back, bruises, some displaying fingers that Dean knew fit his own hand perfectly, a grotesque mirror of the handprint he had once worn himself. But that had been a mark proclaiming an act of saving, whilst this was just a stain, a leftover reminder of an attack, a violation. It didn't even help to know that the marks would fade, leaving the skin as if it had never been blemished in the first place, because that would be nothing but an optical illusion, a mockery of the true damage that lay underneath and could never be undone. Even in the dimly lit room Dean could clearly see the dark circles under Cas' eyes that stood out even more against the paleness of his skin. His face was twitching in his sleep, features contorted in discomfort.

Dean wanted to kneel down next to the bed, bury his fingers in his hair, smooth out the crease on his forehead with his lips, kiss those bruises until they were nothing but a faded memory. He wanted to keep kneeling on the hard floor and hold Cas' hand until he couldn't feel his legs anymore, wanted to tell him how sorry he was, wanted to beg for forgiveness he didn't deserve.

But of course, he didn't do any of those things.

Instead, he just slumped back into the chair and looked, silent tears streaming down his face.

He let them fall.

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

The next thing he knew was his eyes opening from total blackness to a dimly lit semi-darkness.

He needed a second to orientate himself, find out what had woken him, a strained groan, a sharp intake of breath, the sudden rustle of fabric-

Wait. Woken?

Dean's eyes snapped fully open, his head up, back straightening in the chair that he'd been slumped into. His neck hurt where his head had fallen forward when he-

Shit. Shit, shit, shit!

He'd fallen asleep.

How the Hell had that happened? He'd just meant to sit down for a couple of minutes, half an hour Sam had said, he- He looked around to search for the time, see how long he'd been here, but his gaze caught on something else before they reached the wall clock, previous destination completely forgotten.

"Cas", he breathed, eyes fixed on the figure that sat crouched into the further corner of the bed.

So that was why he'd woken up. Cas waking, seeing him, panicking...Dean could just see it before his inner eye, how a confused and disoriented Cas must have been looking around to understand where he was, just to find Dean asleep next to his bed. The way his eyes must have widened in shock, to find him here, of all people, provoking a startled gasp. How he'd hurried backwards, away, mindlessly tearing the sheets with him that lay tangled at his feet now, only covering his lower half as he pressed against the back of the bed.

"Cas! Oh God, I'm so sorry." He scrambled to his feet, practically falling out of the chair in his haste. "I didn't mean to be here anymore when you woke up. Shit, I-"

His feet took uncoordinated steps, legs still heavy with sleep. But he forced them to work, even from across the room still aware of the scared eyes fixed on him.

"I'm not gonna touch you, see? I'm just gonna go, ok?" He gripped the door handle, opened it, watched how the streak of light falling in from the corridor illuminated the angel's startled features. But instead of just leaving as he had intended, he found himself hesitating. Was this the last thing he'd ever see of Cas, a face full of horror and fear?

"Please," he heard his own pleading voice, unaware that he'd intended to start speaking. "Please, you don't need to be scared." Not of me. Please- "Nothing's gonna happen to you, I just-"

I just want you to be okay, Dean thought. I need you to be okay, I-

But of course, Cas wasn't okay. Neither was Dean. And it was all his own damn fault.

That Cas could just sit there right now, without a word, staring at him with those eyes...there was no one else to blame.

"I'm just gonna leave", he finally finished, sounding small, beaten - because what else could he have said? There was nothing to be done here. Not for him.

He swung the door open, ready to step outside when a whisper behind him made him pause.

"D-Dean?"

His fingers around the doorhandle tightened at the sound, knuckles turning white. He couldn't have heard correctly. Surely, that was just-

"Dean? Is that you?"

He dared to turn back enough to look at Cas on the bed, and for a second he almost thought his eyes seemed a little less alarmed, his posture a little less tense.

Ridiculous. Wishful thinking.

"Yeah..." His tone was careful, guarded, made sure not to drift off into pointlessly hopeful territory. "But it's fine, I'm gonna get Sam, I-"

"N-No, wait. Dean..."

But no, the way Cas' face seemed to open up couldn't have been an illusion. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, why on earth Cas would hold him back, but it was enough to freeze his feet to the ground, hesitating.

"Cas?"

"It's you", Cas breathed out, relief so obvious in the way his whole body seemed to slump down, tension easing out of his limbs...and what the actual hell was going on? Maybe Cas was confused, maybe...he didn't know, but he couldn't trust this, just shook his head, gripping the door handle like a lifeline.

"I should really leave, Cas"

"Wait. Please, I- wait." Cas pressed his lips together, the look in those blue eyes tightening like a fist around Dean's heart. "Don't. Stay, please."

"What?"

"Could you stay?", Cas repeated, and God, he sounded so small. "I don't want to be alone."

The words drove like splinters into Dean's chest.

"I'll get Sam", he pressed out between gritted teeth, "he can stay with you."

"Oh." Cas seemed to recoil into himself once more, which should have been nearly impossible in his crouching position against the headboard. "I see."

(Of course he wouldn't want to stay. He probably can't stand to look at me, Cas thought. I should have known.
Spoiled, broken thing that he was now... He should have seen that coming. He'd never been a particularly good angel. Now he didn't feel like deserving that name at all.)

His eyes lowered, his voice sounding so resigned that Dean couldn't help but hesitate once more. His mind was racing, telling him to get out of there as soon as possible, but his feet wouldn't move. His death grip on the door handle loosened slightly.

Oh, fuck- dammit.

"C-Cas?" The angel looked up. Okay, good. "You...you'd really rather I stayed?"

Cas nodded. Dean swallowed.

But then before he'd really made a decision, his hands started moving, slowly closing the door he'd been clinging to, switching on the lights instead.

Well then. That was that.

"Okay."

There was a moment of awkward silence, both of them unmoving, Dean unsure what to do with himself. Should he just keep standing there? Was he allowed to come closer? This whole thing was just such a fucking mess.

"I'm gonna sit over here, okay?" He pointed to the chair he'd previously occupied. "I won't come closer than that, promise."

He slowly made move towards the chair, taking a surer step as Cas didn't protest. In fact, once Dean was settled, the angel himself uncurled a little, stayed leaned against the headboard with his legs spread out under the blanket he smoothed over with his hands before they came to rest on his thighs. Dean watched all that from the corner of his eye, gaze wandering restlessly over blank walls and sparse furniture, didn't dare let it settle directly on Cas yet, afraid he'd be unable to stop once he let himself look.

It was Cas who finally spoke, and wasn't Dean damn grateful for that. Hell if he would've known what to say. He'd imagined having this conversation too many times, had never found a proper way to start, never thought he'd actually have to.

He knew what he wanted to do. But he could hardly just throw himself to Cas' feet unannounced and beg for his forgiveness now, could he?

"What happened?", was what Cas decided on starting with, and finally their eyes met. The blue was as beautiful and drowning as Dean remembered, and he tried not to dig any deeper than that surface, afraid of what he might find there.

"You..." Dean swallowed. "You don't remember?"

"Oh no, I remember." Cas' face flickered, turned hard and blank for a second, just the blink of an eye, but Dean didn't miss it. "I meant...after. How long have I been unconscious?"

"Two days."

Cas' eyes widened.

"Two days?"

"Mhm." His hands started fidgeting, a distraction from his words, the images they brought. "We just let you. You needed rest. Sleep helps to-" Helps to heal, he'd meant to say. But he didn't. There might not be enough time in Cas' eternal life to be truly healing from this.

"Sleep?" Cas' confused voice broke through his gloomy thoughts. "What do you mean, I- Angels don't sleep, Dean."

"Yeah, yeah." So he'd have to tell him more bad news now, huh? Great. "I know. But there's..." He trailed off, looked down to his hands he'd folded in his lap, feeling Cas' gaze bore into him.

"Dean. What is it?"

"Sam found it", he mumbled, didn't dare look up. "Some sort of sigil, he thinks. On your back. It's..."

"It's suppressing my grace."

It was a realization, the way Cas said it, not a question. Dean had to close his eyes.

"That's what we think, yeah."

"I can feel it", Cas said slowly, as if speaking more to himself. "Angel blade...He used the angel blade so it would take longer to heal."

"Cas..." He forced his eyes up, knew the words bubbling up in his throat weren't enough, would never be enough, but he had to say it anyway. "Cas, I'm so sorry. I'm so- God, I don't-"

He wanted to bury his face in his hands, hide away from Cas and those eyes, flee from the guilt and the shame and the pathetic pleading, needy sound of his voice.

"How can you even stand to be in the same room with me", it tumbled from his lips instead, what had been sitting in the back of his mind the whole time since Cas first whispered the word stay finally breaking free. "To look at me, to just talk to me as if nothing- to..."

"Because I know it's you." Cas' voice was much softer than it should have been. Hadn't he known better he might even have called it warm. "I can see the difference."

He shouldn't be the one that needed soothing now, Cas shouldn't have to comfort or explain or- wait. What was that?

"Wait. You-" Dean's eyes snapped up, a shaky breath escaping his lungs when the sudden wave of hope and longing and oh, yes, please hit him. "So you know it wasn't me who-? God, Cas, please, say you knew it wasn't me, I couldn't-"

"Dean." Cas smiled. It was small and wavy, but there was a smile. "I knew it wasn't you. I immediately knew."

Dean could do nothing but stare.

"H-How?"

"Many things. Your-" Cas swallowed hard."-his voice", he corrected, voice suddenly strained, features tense. "The things he said- it was all so..cold and cruel and humiliating and I-"

"Cas." Dean lifted a hand to interrupt him carefully. "You can stop, I'm sorry I asked. Of course you don't wanna remember."

Cas pressed his lips together, but then something settled over his features, something Dean couldn't immediately put his finger on.

"It's fine", Cas said then, slightly nodding to himself. "It's- it's hard but...I think it's good for me to remind myself how it couldn't have been you." The eyes that settled on Dean were the closest thing to determined that he might have imagined possible at the moment. "For both of us."