Dean hung up his phone, staring at Cas who had materialized before him without a question or thought as to being exposed. Dean needed him and Cas came. He hadn't even paused, he'd just blipped into existence right in front of Dean, and fuck if Dean wasn't overcome with the trust of it. He could cry or kiss him if there weren't other things that needed to be handled.
Before he could say anything Sam cried out, "Cas!" and barrelled into Cas's arms.
Cas wrapped a hesitant arm over the younger Winchester's shoulders and then pulled him in tight, keeping his eyes on Dean with a raised eyebrow. For all Cas was touchy with Meg and Dean he didn't seem to have any idea what to do with this sudden burst of affection from Sam.
As soon as Bobby came out of his stunned stupor his eyes widened at Cas and he shook his head. "How the hell did you get here?" He asked.
But Dean didn't have time for that. There wasn't time for anything. His Dad was bleeding out on the couch behind him, the whole room filling up with the smell of copper and fear. The wooden resolve he'd held onto so far fell away and he was no longer the Dean who yelled or kicked things. No longer the Dean who cursed his Dad for being so fucking reckless. Didn't he know Sam needed him? Sam. And sometimes Dean. Cas's presence melted all that away and he felt the tears and desperation settle in.
Cas crooked his head in question, concern wrinkling between his eyebrows. "How can I help?"
Cas broke through it all so simply. Dean called so he came and now he wanted to help. It all seemed so easy from Cas's point. Dean took Cas's hand and pulled him out of Sam's grip, leading him over to where John Winchester laid almost dead on the couch.
"Cas, this is my dad. He was out hunting and got shot in the stomach." Dean hated not telling Cas the whole truth, but he'd no more break his father's confidence than he would tell anyone about Cas, and it wasn't a complete lie. At the end of the day, his father was there right in front of them dying and, yeah, he sometimes hated the bastard, but he was still Dean's dad.
Cas raised a knowing eyebrow at Dean, he somehow always knew when Dean lied but he didn't call him on it. "John Winchester," he said flatly.
Dean squeezed his hand and pulled his attention back to the now. "Cas, please. I know it took a lot out of you when you healed me-"
"When he what?" Bobby interrupted, stepping forward but Dean ignored him. Sam made his way to Bobby, to block his path.
"Do you think? Can you… he's my Dad, man." Dean's voice broke at the end.
Cas stared at him for a long time, too long considering his father was bleeding out next to them.
Dean started to fidget, moving his weight from one foot to the other. Feeling a sinking dread in his gut that Cas might not appreciate being called here now that he knew there were other people involved. What if Cas refused to help him? What if Cas hated him? What if his Dad died?
"He is not a good man, Dean," Cas whispered.
Dean nodded. "He's still my dad." Dean put his hand on Cas's shoulder, pulling blue eyes to meet green. "Please, I know it's a lot to ask, but you can recover here, however long you need, instead of dealing with Shurley. I'll take care of you. I… I can't let him die, and I didn't know what else to do."
Dean pleaded for his father's life staring at a seemingly immoveable Cas and Dean was reminded of when he'd been Castiel, the hard, silent, weird dude Dean couldn't figure out. Before the touches and friendship. Before whatever this thing between them had started. But now he was Cas and Dean needed his help.
Cas's hard look softened as he stared at Dean and then he nodded once. Cas kneeled down in the squish of the blood soaked rug without seeming to notice and pulled the towel off John's abdomen roughly, causing a grunt and wince.
"What the hell are you doing, boy?" Bobby demanded, stepping forward again.
Sam put his hand on Bobby's chest. "Please Bobby, trust us. Dean and I will explain everything, but Castiel can save him."
"How exactly do you know that?" Bobby stopped moving, but his eyes were hard and his hands fisted. John Winchester may be a bastard but the man was still his best friend. He watched as Cas placed his hands against John's forehead and stomach, looking into the middle distance like there was an apparition just out of his field of vision.
"Faith," Sam said simply.
Bobby slumped, "Well, I guess that's all we got to go on now, anyway." He tugged off his cap and ran a hand through his hair before setting it back in place.
Cas pulled John's shirt up and used the dirty towel to wipe blood away from the wound as best he could. As he pushed it away more spurted out, a never ending well of thick red ooze.
John moaned and squirmed, making Dean want to pull Cas away from his father, but it seemed like Cas needed to see what he was dealing with before he could help. It took forever though. Time spanned out and his father was fucking bleeding out and his… his Cas was covered in blood up to his elbows now. It was a gory scene, and Dean had seen a lot of shit for someone his age.
"Is there anything else serious or just the gunshot wound?" Cas asked without taking his eyes off John. "If there's more, it may be beyond what I'm capable of."
"He lost a lot of blood and probably hit his head, but nothing he can't recover from other than the lead in his gut," Bobby answered, crossing his arms, and standing at the foot of the couch by John's feet. His face had fallen into the same look it did when he was on the phone with a hunter who needed help, available to give advice or even just comfort if the hunter had no good options. Bobby was in charge of the room, even if he wasn't doing anything.
"Did the bullet go all the way through? I don't want to roll him if I don't have to." Cas asked, poking the hole with his finger so that John's face squinted up in pain.
"No, fucker's still in there," Bobby grumbled. "Is that a problem?"
Cas let out a breath. "That makes this harder." He looked up at Dean and then Sam. "You may want to leave or look away. I don't know how much you remember but this isn't a pleasant process."
Sam looked at Dean with wide eyes and crept closer to his brother's side.
"We're staying," Dean said, wrapping an arm around his brother. "Don't worry, Sammy. I got you and Cas is going to do his best."
Cas frowned and turned to John. He laid one hand over the wound and pressed down hard, causing blood to pool quickly. John screamed out, his eyes opening for a split second before he appeared to fall back into unconsciousness.
Brilliant white light filled the room emanating from Castiel's hand.
"Son of a bitch!" Bobby shook his head watching as Cas opened his eyes, glowing bright and brilliant.
Sam ducked his head against Dean, but the older brother couldn't look away. This is what Cas had done to him. He remembered it, most of it anyway, the feeling of cool relief that the light brought, the impossibility of bone and muscle knitting together before his eyes.
Cas looked into that middle space, seeing through reality to something else the rest of them couldn't comprehend. His breath sped up and a sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead.
Dean wasn't sure he'd ever seen Cas sweat before. Doing this was taking a toll on him. A toll he was willing to pay without asking questions or wanting any kind of payment. He did it simply because Dean had asked. And it occurred to him then that Cas was good. Not just a good person. He knew plenty of good people. Bobby was a good person. No Cas was something else all together. Something solid and definable as goodness in a way Dean hadn't yet found the words for.
"The bullet's gone," Cas's voice was thin and distant and Dean wanted to wrap him up in his arms. "The wound is closing easily now, and the blood volume is increasing." Cas looked pale and sickly.
John gasped, sitting straight up, watching as the wound on his stomach stitched itself closed before Cas's light blinked out and he collapsed onto the bloody rug.
Dean dropped his arm from Sam and ran forward, falling to his knees. "Cas? Cas?!" Dean pulled him up closer so he could look in his face. "Are you okay? Come on, come back to me. Let me know you're okay."
His eyes filled with tears as Sam ran over, falling to his knees on the other side of Castiel. "Thank you, Cas. Thank you."
Castiel's eyes fluttered but stayed closed.
"Cas, give me somethin'. You gotta be okay." Dean rocked him slowly as Sam checked for a pulse and let out a relieved sigh.
"Dean?" John's voice was rough but strong. "What happened?" His eyes darted around the room, not quite focusing on anything in particular.
When neither boy replied Bobby just gave an exacerbated huff. "Damned if I know, but I think we better check you out and let the boys handle their friend."
John nodded and stood up with a slight wobble but not even a wince of pain. "How did you do this? I should be dead."
Bobby nodded without looking down at the boys. "Goddamn miracle if you ask me. Come on, you need a change of clothes and a shower somethin' awful. And you're payin' for a new couch."
Sam and Dean hauled Cas up to standing with an unspoken plan. He moaned slightly which would normally worry Dean but he was just so thrilled Cas was alive he didn't even mind if he was in a little pain. They each took one of Cas's arms and half dragged him upstairs. Slowly.
Cas was a lot heavier than he looked and it took a long time to maneuver him up the stairs, but they needed to get him out of John's line of sight. He hadn't seemed to notice Cas's presence and it would be safer if he never knew Cas existed. Dean knew his father would only see Cas as another monster, no matter what good he'd done.
John Winchester believed in a black and white world. Good and evil and no in betweens, and for him any supernatural creature was a monster, even if passing through all Bobby's warding proved otherwise.
They mostly dragged Cas into their room before dropping him onto Dean's bed. He was covered in blood and paler than usual, but he was alive, he'd be okay. Dean felt like if he just said it enough, if he recited that outcome enough, it would have to be true. So he sent it up like a prayer, begging Cas to be okay, to come back to him, to open his eyes.
Sam stepped back and looked at his brother. "What the actual fuck was that?" He ran a hand through his hair and then looked at it, dried blood cracking along his knuckles.
Dean fussed over Cas, settling him on the pillow and pulling his legs up on the bed. He unlaced his boots and pulled them off before pulling a soft blanket over him and sitting on the edge of the bed. He'd need to wash the blood off his hands and face if he didn't wake up soon. He could do that. Could even get him into clean clothes. That would probably be the right thing to do. No one wants to hang out in bloodsoaked jeans and t-shirt longer than necessary. Dean's thoughts raced and twisted in his mind so fast he couldn't keep up. His breath sped up and he knew he was on the verge of tears but he couldn't stop his whirling thoughts.
"Dean?" Sam asked when Dean finally stilled, anxious energy still filling the room.
"He'll be okay, he just needs to rest," Dean reassured Sam as much as himself. "He said he was drained after he healed me, I guess this was more intense."
"Did it look like that when he healed you?" Sam sat on his bed, staring at Cas.
Dean nodded and ran hand down Cas's cheek. He was cool to the touch, but still breathing. Something clenched inside Dean's chest at the thought of him not breathing, or not waking up, because of something Dean had asked him to do was like getting the wind knocked out of him. He stroked Cas's cheekbone with his thumb, tears coming to his eyes for a whole new reason.
"I'll get him some water." Sam stood up.
"He doesn't drink."
"Then I'll get you some water and check on Dad. I'll be back soon, okay?"
"Yeah."
"Dean, I'm sure he'll be fine." Sam dropped a hand on Dean's shoulder.
Dean couldn't stop the shudder that broke through his body at the contact but he nodded, swiping away his tears.
Behind Dean, Sam left and closed the door behind him. He was thankful for the moment alone, the privacy. That little brother of his was a good kid, no matter what anyone said. Dean should tell him that more often.
Dean maneuvered Cas over a little so he could lay down and wrap his arms around the unresponsive boy. He pulled Cas against his chest so he could drop kisses to his head and hold him tight enough to feel every rise and fall of breath. His weight was heavy and reassuring and Dean closed his eyes to breathe him in for a moment. The tightness in his chest relaxed just a fraction, but it was enough for Dean to get a handle on himself.
Cas always did that. He always made Dean feel safe. Right. And now Dean needed to take care of him, make this right. He swore to himself, he didn't care what happened next so long as Cas was okay.
"Hey Cas, I'm here, anytime you wanna flutter your eyes or wiggle your fingers, and let me know you're okay would be great," Dean whispered before pointlessly smoothing down Cas's wild hair.
Cas didn't reply but his breathing was steady and his heartbeat strong so Dean just kept whispering to him: about how Dean couldn't do this without him, about how amazed he was every day that someone like Cas would even consider spending time with someone like Dean, about how good he looked in that black eyeliner and how Dean couldn't wait to kiss him again.
"You're safe. I'm gonna keep you safe. No matter what. You take as long as you need to power up. I'll handle everything out here."
They laid there long enough for Dean's arm to fall asleep under Cas's weight, but he repositioned them so Cas laid against his side and continued to whisper and hum to the guy in his arms like he was the most precious thing in the world. Which according to Dean, he absolutely was. Fatigue started to pull at Dean's consciousness and the warmth of Cas lulled him. What he wouldn't give to just close his eyes and when he woke Cas would be looking at him with those blue eyes and a dimple from his wide smile.
Sam returned with a glass of water and a ham and cheese sandwich for Dean. He put it on the bedside table and sat on his own bed again. "How's he doing?"
"He's okay, breathing, heart's still beating, I don't think we have to burn any bodies tonight."
Sam huffed out a laugh, "That's better than how the night started."
"How's Dad?" Dean grabbed half a sandwich and shoved it into his mouth.
"He and Bobby are hauling the couch and rug out back and setting it on fire to remove any signs of Dad's blood. There'll still be some on the floor, but not so much it can't be explained away as a simple accident. Dad's asking a lot of questions though. He doesn't remember what happened."
"Good." Dean nodded.
"So far Bobby is keeping his mouth shut, but I don't know how long that will last."
"Why's he doing that? It's not like him to keep secrets from Dad."
"Dean, do you really think Bobby doesn't know about…" Sam gestures at how Cas is sprawled on his bed, head tucked under Dean's chin, Dean's fingers never slowing as they run through Cas's hair.
"How does he… what does he think?" Dean narrows his eyes at his brother.
Sam rolled his eyes. "It's not like he and I have had a heart to heart about your sex life."
"We're not having-"
"Yeah, I know, but still. Bobby knows Cas is important to you. It's impossible to miss. And you two aren't exactly subtle when he's home. Why do you think he stays away during movie nights. He's giving you your privacy."
"Oh," Dean exhales, releasing a tension he didn't know he was holding on to. All of this, whatever it was, with Cas was okay with Bobby. Dean's first thought was to tell Cas, and then he remembered the lump in his arms couldn't hear him and his heart sank.
"Plus, Bobby knows Dad isn't going to understand what Cas did, let alone you two being together."
"He might," Dean mumbled, drinking some water before stuffing the other half of his sandwich into his mouth. Sam didn't even bother arguing with him about Dad's tolerance levels for both the supernatural and his son deviating from expectations.
"Dean?" Cas mumbled into Dean's green flannel.
"Hey, sweetheart, hey. I'm right here." He scooted down so he was face to face with Cas, rubbing his cheek with his hand.
And like that Cas was out again. Tears came to Dean's eyes but he wiped them away quickly. "That's good don't you think? He woke up some, knows who I am." He looked at Sam over his shoulder, desperation and hope warring in his chest.
"Yeah, I think that's great." Sam smiled softly. "Let's go downstairs for just a few minutes okay, head off Dad coming up here to find us."
Dean frowned looking down at Cas again. "I can't leave him like this. What if he wakes up again"
"He'll know where he is if he wakes up. He'll be okay. And you'll be back fast. But Dean, if you don't go down there, Dad's gonna come up. Do you want that?" Sam's voice remained calm but Dean could hear the worry hidden behind it. John Winchester was not a fan of "the gays" and while he'd never come out and said anything openly homophobic, his feelings on the matter were pretty fucking clear.
Hunters don't get families.
Hunters don't get softness and cuddles and sweetness.
Hunters don't get an easy life.
Hunters had to be men, real men, like the kind in the old cowboy movies he'd put on when the boys wanted to watch cartoons in the motel of the week.
Hunters racked up women and kills but never settled down, never stayed in one place for too long.
Hunters had to be hard, keep their emotions in check, manly.
And Dean and Sam were expected to follow in his footsteps.
"Yeah, you're right," Dean slid out from beneath Cas, settling him so he looked at least somewhat comfortable and covering him back up with the blanket.
"I'll be back as soon as I can." He kissed Cas's forehead and Sam rolled his eyes but smiled.
They trudged out of their room, closing the door behind them, keeping Cas safe behind a hollow core door. Downstairs, John Winchester was pacing in the living room while Bobby sat behind his desk.
"Boys!" John greeted them, holding out his arms. The boys approached and let John wrap his arms around both of them tightly, feeling the slight shaking in his shoulders. "I've missed you so much."
"Yeah Dad, we've missed you two," Dean said pulling away and stuffing his hands into his pockets. Sam stuck close to Dean's side, shuffling his feet.
"You boys must have done some quick thinking back there, I swear I was a goner. The only thing that got me through was knowing I had to get here to you two, one more time." John gave a thin smile and shook his head.
"Thanks Dad, the sight of you bleeding out on our couch wouldn't have scarred us for life or anything," Sam snarked, earning himself a sharp look from John and a slap on the arm from Dean.
"Shut it," Dean hissed.
"So how'd you do it? How'd you get me all healed up like this?" John asked, but Dean knew it was the beginning of an inquisition. His father had that look on his face, the one that broached no disrespect or dishonesty.
The pause in the room could only be described as fraught. Dean did everything he could not to meet Sam or Bobby's eyes as he answered his father's question with as much confidence as he could muster.
"A spell." Dean lied.
John frowned "A what? There ain't no spell that does that."
"I remembered seeing one of those old Celtic spells in Bobby's papers. One of those 'use it once and then it's gone' deals. Paper went up in flames as soon as we were done."
John stared Dean down hard and it was all Dean could do not to break before his father turned his gaze on Bobby. "This true?"
"You sayin' your boy would lie to you?" Bobby retorted with fire Dean hadn't expected. Bobby, who knew full well he was lying.
"No, he knows better than to pull anything that stupid." John glared at Dean before reaching for his beer and taking a swig. "I guess that's that then. Too bad it was just a one off, would have been handy to have around."
Dean turned to find Sam fuming but biting his lip to stay quiet.
"Well, we have school tomorrow so…" he gestured to Sam with his head to go upstairs. The last thing he needed today was one of the infamous fights Sam and their Dad could get into. And there was too much at stake. Cas was at stake. He couldn't risk anything going wrong when it felt like they just might get away with keeping Cas's secret.
"Yeah, well boys I probably won't see you in the morning. I'm gonna grab a few hours and head back out. Gotta finish the job." John took another drink and Bobby's eyes were stormy.
"You almost died, John. You gotta give yourself some down time to rest." the older hunter scolded, disbelief at his friend's recklessness in his tone.
"I'll rest when I'm dead. Be good, boys—I'll be back soon." John turned away and walked into the kitchen to grab another drink, leaving a fuming Bobby behind.
Dean couldn't understand John. Not a thank you, not a pat on the shoulder. Nothing. Even if the spell had been a lie, John didn't know that and either way Dean had kept him alive and now he was just going to go right back out to where he'd gotten shot in the first place? What the fuck was wrong with him? DIdn't he even care? Didn't he notice that Sam hadn't stopped shaking or that Dean could barely stand still?
The older man who had stepped up when their own father abandoned them stepped closer. He clapped Dean on the shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts with a jolt. "How's Castiel?" he whispered, ducking his head.
Dean sighed, suddenly extremely tired. "He's sleeping, but he should be okay. Thanks for backing me on the spell." Dean tried to smile, but he was too anxious about his Dad overhearing them.
"I'm gonna need some answers," Bobby gave him his best I mean business look. "But it can wait till morning."
"Yes, sir."
"Don't call me that, I ain't your Daddy." His hand squeezed Dean's shoulder fondly. "We're just gonna need to all get up to speed."
"After John leaves," Sam added bitterly.
"Yeah, okay." Bobby frowned. "Go on up then. Maybe tomorrow's a good day to call in sick for all of us."
Dean shoved Sam toward the stairs and followed him up at a more reasonable pace than he wanted to go. All he really wanted is to get back to Cas.
In their room, Cas still slept. He hadn't moved even a finger since they'd left him there. On one hand Dean was relieved that Cas hadn't woken and thought Dean had abandoned him, but on the other the longer Cas stayed asleep the more Dean worried.
"I'm gonna crash," Sam said, slipping into his pajama pants, plugging in his head phones, and climbing into bed facing the wall. It wasn't much, but Dean was grateful for the privacy and for the thoughtfulness of his little brother. For all he'd been through, Sam was growing up to be a good person.
Dean sighed and headed to the bathroom. He grabbed a washcloth and set it in the sink with the water running on hot to warm it up and a small hand towel. He also grabbed a paper cup and filled it with more warm water. In his room, Dean knelt next to the bed and set the towels on the floor before pulling Cas's hand toward him and pushing the sleeve of his shirt up above his elbow.
Slowly, Dean ran the warm washcloth against Cas's strong forearm, following the lines of muscle and slowly removing the dried blood. Dean had learned long ago that scrubbing at blood rarely worked and usually just meant you ended up with roughed up skin. It was better to let the water and heat do its work. So slow swipes of Cas's skin, cool but no longer cold, removed layer after layer of blood.
Dean held Cas's hand as he ran the cloth across each finger, cleaning thick dried blood away, and softly washing the delicate webbed skin between them. He returned to the bathroom, rinsing the washcloth out with warm water before returning to finish Cas's left hand before starting on the right.
He repeated the process, rinsing the washcloth and gently cleaning Cas's skin over and over. Dean swept the terrycloth over Cas's face, quietly talking to him about how his Dad was okay now and how Bobby had covered for them. He spoke in quiet low whispers even though Sam had his headphones on and had started to snore gently. He told Cas how much he needed him to come back to him, how he couldn't imagine life without him now.
Dean swept the washcloth, newly cleaned and warm over Cas's forehead and into his hair. He wiped what little blood there was away and then just stroked Cas's face. He remembered his mother doing that with a cool cloth when he was sick and even though this wasn't the same thing at all he wanted to offer Cas the same kind of comfort he had found in it.
Awkwardly, he slipped Cas's shirt off his arms and over his head, trying not to stare and the light tan skin and strong body revealed. It wasn't right for him to gawk, but fuck Cas was hot. He picked out his softest black shirt and pulled it over Cas's head before sliding his arms in and pulling it down to his waist.
Dean paused with his hands over Cas's belt. He felt wrong undoing the other guys pants when he was passed out but he couldn't stay covered in blood. His knees were soaked through and had to be sticking to his skin. So Dean just approached it like he would if he was changing Sam for some reason. Imagine Sam, passed out from drinking too much. Dean would change him, clean him up, and then kill him. That's the mindset he took on excluding the killing him part.
Fortunately Cas's black boxer briefs seemed unsullied so once Dean had his pants off it was just a matter of washing his knees and shins where John's blood had soaked in through the rug. By the time Dean was pulling a pair of old Star Wars pajama pants he had at the back of his drawer over Cas's hips, there was a small knock on the door.
He tiptoed over and slipped out into the hall.
"How's everyone doin' in there?" Bobby asked, his face drawn.
"Sam's asleep. Cas hasn't moved but I've got all the blood off him now." Dean sighed, looking at his hands, amazed they weren't stained pink.
"Well, it's about time for you to get some shut eye. The three of you okay in there?"
"Yeah, it's fine. Is Dad okay?"
Bobby let out a frustrated huff. "He's as okay as your Daddy ever is. Bound and determined to leave at first light. I'd fight him on it, but I don't think he needs to know about Castiel just yet."
"Thanks Bobby. I… just thanks."
"No more secrets though, boy. I don't like surprises sneaking up on me like that. Especially when you need me to back you up on a lie. I'll always have your back, but it's hard when I don't know what's what."
Dean nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I've been trying to convince Cas to tell you, but he's afraid."
"Yeah, I can see why." Bobby shuffles his feet. "Anyway, it's after 1AM, you need your beauty sleep."
They stood in the hall for a second and all Dean wanted to do was through his arms around Bobby. He wanted someone to hold him for once. Not look at him like he should be able to handle whatever happened like his dad did or need him to keep his shit together like Sam. He wanted to be the fucking kid and Bobby was the closest he had to that but he didn't know how to cross the line in the sand.
"Alright, go on then." Bobby clapped him on the back and gave a kind smile before retreating into his room.
Dean took the fastest shower of his life and pulled on an undershirt and pajama pants before stripping the bloody blankets bundled around Cas. He pulled the winter comforter out of his closet and settled into bed.
When his head hit the pillow exhaustion pooled around him, but before he could crash the body next to him shifted slightly, rolling onto its side to make more room for Dean. They snuggled in, Cas's head on Dean's chest and a leg thrown over his. It was warm and if Dean felt that warmth deeper than any comforter could reach you couldn't blame him, it had been a hell of a day.
"Dean?" Cas slurred.
"Yeah Cas, I'm here."
Cas sighed, tension draining from his shoulders. He didn't say anything else, but his hand gripped Dean's shirt like he was afraid to be left alone. Like his life depended on being able to hold onto Dean.
And Dean didn't mind one fucking bit.
The dark room filled with even steady breathing as the three of them succumbed to exhaustion.