Chapter 6
Blood.
Crimson, metallic, thick.
In large pools on the stone carpeted floor.
So much. So much blood.
There was no way any one could survive that amount of blood loss.
A groan.
A pain filled groan.
Castiel shot his concerned blue eyes to the sound. His breath hitched and panic filled him to the brim. Frozen to the spot.
So much blood.
Panic pushing him, he rushed over to the broken, bloody body on the ground, crouching down, yelling his name. He lifted his head, searched the green eyes before him. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't leave now. Not now. Castiel didn't know if he could survive without him.
Pressing a hand over the broken chest, his palm glowing. He wasn't healing. Why wasn't he healing? This should work. It has to work. It needs to work. He couldn't lose him now.
A voice yelling behind him. He knew that voice. But he couldn't think. Couldn't register it. All he could think about was the dying man before him. He couldn't lose him. Not like this. Not after everything they'd been through.
Strong hands pulling him back. Lips moving. Saying something. Those same hands picked up the wounded man. Castiel thought about stopping him, but something was telling him to let Sam do this. To let him take his brother somewhere safe. He needed to follow. Needed stay by Dean's side. Needed to beg him not leave him. Not like this.
His eyes darted around the motel room. Landing on the dead angel. There was no black echoes of wings. Just a dead woman with blonde hair and pale skin. The angel blade was still protruding from her chest, having pierced her pale blue blouse. He took in a shuddering breath. Logic needed to win the war that had raged inside of him. This needed to be dealt with. Sam was taking care of Dean. Dean would be okay. He needed to be. He had to be.
He forced himself to move. Forced himself to clean up the mess. To dispose of the body. To clean the blood. Dean's blood. All of it Dean's blood. Why couldn't he heal him? Why couldn't he do that one thing? All of this… his fault. All his fault.
The hospital smelled of the sick and the dying. Machines beeped, people talked, doctors rushed around. Sam was hunched on a chair in the waiting room. His eyes puffy and red. No! Dean can't be dead. Not now. Not after…
Sam looked up at his presence. "It doesn't look good, Cas."
Castiel fell then. The pain of losing Dean finally knocking him over. He clutched at his chest, the tears finally coming. This wasn't fair. He needed to go to him. Needed to try and heal him again. Sam stood abruptly, making Castiel jump. He looked up at the doctor that had approached them. He couldn't make out what they were saying, the blood pumping in his ears was too loud.
He looked back at the floor, watching, fascinated by the drops of tears landing on the tiles. A hand on his shoulder. Sorrow filling Sam's eyes. "He's stable, for now."
Castiel still couldn't move. Dean hadn't survived yet. He was still in danger. The waiting begins.
Two days had passed and still Dean wasn't out of the woods yet. Still a chance he could die. And all Castiel could do was play the scene over and over in his mind. Dean telling him he was hurting too. That he didn't know why. That it hurt to know Castiel was trying to get over him. He remembered all the questions he wanted to fire at him, he remembered being thrown back into the wall. Dean jumping from the bed, about to attack the angel. The angel got there first. Dean being beaten. The angel yelling that he'd corrupted him. Tainted him. Castiel had tried to intervene, tried to pull her off him. He needed to save Dean.
She threw him again. Looking up. Dean stabbed, through the chest, too close to the heart. Rage filled him. Stabbing the angel. She dropped. And so did Dean.
He blinked back the tears. He couldn't think about this any more. He looked at the man in the hospital bed. The man he loved with all his heart. It didn't matter if Dean didn't love him back. He didn't care about any of that any more. He just needed him to open his eyes. He just needed to see those green orbs. He would give up everything and anything for that.
Sam appeared at his side. He hadn't slept. He hadn't eaten. Too worried about his brother. He was worried too. His heart jolted in his chest. What if Dean died? What if all this waiting was just a way to torment him? To punish him? To punish all of them? No, this was his fault and only his fault. The Winchesters didn't need to be punished. They were good, brave and kind.
"No change?" Sam had been to shower. He'd always ask the same question every time he left, and he'd always know the answer, but needing to hear it all the same. Castiel simply shook his head. Sam placed himself on the opposite side of the bed.
Dean's hand was cold. Gripping it tighter, he couldn't hold it back no more. "Come back to me," he whispered unaware of Sam's penetrating wide-eyed look. "Please, you can't leave me like this." Another tear. He was really getting sick of all these tears. "Dean?" His voice turned croaky, thick with the pain he was feeling. Leaning his head on the hunter's arms, he finally allowed the sobs to rack his body, he finally lost control.
Eight days. Castiel hadn't cried in two. His body now numb. No more pain. Acceptance. Dean wasn't going to come back. The doctors were saying it would be best to turn of the machines. Castiel wouldn't let them. Not yet he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to let go. He wasn't ready to feel all that pain again.
Sam staring at him. He ignored it and gripped Dean's hand once more.
Thirty days. Sam had started eating again. Started sleeping again. Started leaving Dean's side for longer periods. Castiel hadn't moved. Can't bring himself too. It's a limbo. It's time now. He knew this. Knew that the machines needed to be switched off. He told Sam. Sam nodded and went to fetch a doctor. He couldn't bring himself to take his eyes off Dean. Sam signed papers. The doctor moved to the machines. This was it. "Wait." The first word he'd spoken in too long. His voice was raw and his throat scratchy. The doctor paused, his hand hovering over the switches. He could feel both the doctors and Sam's eyes burning through him. But he needed to say goodbye.
He bent his head to Dean's, his breath brushing the hunter's cold skin. Softly, he placed a kiss to Dean's dry ones. The tears falling again. "I love you." A whisper. He gripped the hunter's hand again. Squeezed.
A squeeze. He looked down at their hands linked together from his hovering position. Frowned. Castiel squeezed again. Another squeeze back. Dean had squeezed his hand. Castiel's heart jolted in a nervous excitement.
"That's strange," the doctor mumbled. Castiel stood, not letting go of Dean, not ready too. "His heart beat jumped a little."
"What does that mean?" Sam asked, hope in his voice. He shouldn't hope, not yet. It had been too long since he'd seen Dean's eyes, since he'd heard his beautiful voice. He couldn't hope yet.
A groan from the bed.
All eyes trained on the man in the bed.
Another groan.
The doctor moved quickly. Tending to his patient. Calling his name.
Castiel couldn't move. Couldn't breath. Was he waking? Was he finally going to see those eyes?
A flutter of his eye lids.
The doctor was feeding him water through a straw. Where did he get it?
Green eyes. Not looking at him, looking at Sam. A crooked smile. He should let go of Dean. Should allow Dean and Sam to have this moment. Sam whispered his brother's name.
Panic filled those green eyes. "C-Cas?" It was a croak from not having used it in a while, but to Castiel it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
"H-here, Dean."
His eyes shot to his. Relief. Happiness. Castiel squeezed his hand and Dean squeezed back.
The doctor, "Please, leave us. I need to examine him."
Sam had to practically drag Castiel out of the room. His mind still hadn't caught up. Dean was alive. Dean was alive. Dean was alive. His heart started beating again. The pain of nearly losing him hitting him full force, but it was outweighed by the happiness he was feeling.
Dean was alive.
- SUPERNATURAL -
Too much prodding. Too much time to think.
The doctor had finally finished his examination, says he's doing better than he should be, but hey, who's complaining, right? He says he needs him to stay in the hospital for a couple of days, just for monitoring. Dean hated the idea, tried to argue it. The doctor is having none of it. Sam pushed into the room after hearing the commotion. Dean was still yelling at the god damn doctor. He can't stay here, he just can't. His eyes catch his brothers, pleading, begging him to take his side on this. A few moments pass, and he realized that Sam isn't going to be on his side on this one. He continued to yell at the doctor, at Sam, at anyone who will listen.
Blue eyes catch his. Dean fell silent. His mouth clamping shut. Gulping nervously. Cas wasn't going to be on his side either. "Dean, you almost died. It's best if you stay."
All Dean can do is nod. He's nervous. He flicks his eyes back to the doctor, not wanting them to stay trained on the angel for too long. The doctor re-inserting the drip that Dean had ripped out during his tantrum. A sharp scratch and alls done. The doctor leaves, followed by the nurse, the nurse he hadn't even noticed till now. He frowned in confusion. His eyes followed her out. She was hot, so why hadn't he noticed her? Usually she would have been the first thing he'd noticed.
Sam comes over to him, a nervous, crooked smile upon his face. Dean eyes him suspiciously. "What the doctor say?"
"I'm good. They're surprised at how fast I'm healing, want to keep me in for a couple of days to monitor."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, we got that last part."
This is usually when he swings his gaze to Cas. He can't bring himself to do it. Why? It's only Cas. His best friend. Dean can feel the tension thickening in the small room. His throat starts to close up. Settling his head back against the fluffy white pillows, he closes his eyes, trying to regain control.
"I'm going to go get a coffee. Want anything?"
Panic flares up and he snaps his eyes open to stare at his brother, begging him without words. He doesn't want to be left alone with Cas. Not now, maybe not ever. He didn't trust himself. Didn't trust himself to not act on his urges. Didn't trust himself to bring up what he remembered, what he felt. Didn't trust himself to not ruin their friendship.
Sam offers him a reassuring smile and leaves. Just like that. Gone. They're alone now and still Dean can't bring himself to look at the angel. He trains his eyes on the blanket covering his half naked body, burning a hole right through the material. Instantly he feels vulnerable. Exposed. He doesn't like that feeling. He's never felt it before and he really, really doesn't like it.
"How are you, Dean." He finally looks him in the eye. What he sees there almost takes his breath away. Love and understanding. His walls are completely down and somehow Dean feels very privileged to be a part of that.
"I'm fine. Bit sore, but other than that..."
Electricity shoots through his hand as Cas grips it with his own. No, he can't take that. Far too quickly he snaps his hand away. He stares at it with wide eyes, shocked eyes. What the hell was that? Another feeling he's never experienced before. He brings his eyes back to Cas, regret and guilt fills him immediately. The love and understanding is gone, replaced by hurt and horror. No, he hadn't meant to hurt him, didn't want to. It just shocked him, that's all. He opened his mouth to explain just that. But nothing comes out, his mouth has dried up. He licks his lips, then tries again.
"Don't, Dean. It's fine." The angels voice is broken and hurt.
"I-"
"I said it's fine. I will wait for Sam to return, then I will leave." No. He doesn't want Cas to leave. It's a comfort to have him here. A different type of comfort to what Sam offers.
"You don't have to, Cas." His voice is also broken. Pain filled. Cas's eyes narrow, the pain still evident.
"I have things to attend to anyway."
Dean wants to argue. Wants to keep him here. But Sam returns, a steaming coffee in hand. Cas says goodbye to Sam. Not to him. He doesn't even look in his direction. That hurts. Not because he can feel a gulf between them, but because he'd hurt Cas that much that he can't bring himself to even look at him.
Sam nods and then Cas is gone.
Emptiness. That's what he feels now. He wants to call him back, wants to hold him, tell him everything is going to be okay. But he doesn't. Can't. Doesn't want to hurt him again. Too much of a risk.
Sam sits in a chair, sipping at his coffee. "What did you do?"
Dean fakes a hurt look. Although he's not altogether sure it is fake. "Why do assume I've done something?"
Sam rolls his eyes. "He's gone." As if that was suppose to explain everything.
"He disappears all the time."
Another eye roll from his brother, another sip of his coffee. "Dean, we're not entirely sure you're completely healed. Just because the doctor says so doesn't mean anything. Especially not in our lives."
"And?" He was getting inpatient now. What the hell was he getting at?
"Cas is still worried." Dean gestures for him to elaborate with a wave of his hand. "He hasn't left your side in thirty days, Dean."
What? Course he has. He has angels to track down. A case to finish. He wouldn't abandon that, not if there was nothing he could do for Dean. He has a cell, Sam could call if there had been any change. "Sure he did. We have a case. Cas would want to track down every one of those sons of bitches."
"No, Dean. He cried non-stop for six days. After that he wouldn't talk to anyone, wouldn't acknowledge anyone. Begged for you to just open your eyes. He was drowning in grief." Pain pulled at his heart. Shit. Had he really been broken up about his impending death? Sam wasn't finished. "The doctors wanted to turn of you monitors days ago. I agreed. There was no way you were going to make it. I'd come to accept it. Cas couldn't, wouldn't. He argued with me. I finally allowed it. Cas needed to wrap his head around it first. Today he finally agreed."
Dean held up his hand. He couldn't hear any more. Didn't want to. The pain in his chest was squeezing at his heart now and he couldn't breath. Shit. The guy had been really broken up. He was probably relieved that Dean was awake and chatting away. Then he goes and hurt him like that. No wonder he wanted to leave. No wonder he didn't want to hear any excuses from him.
For three days, Dean tried to call him. On the third day, he tried to pray. Hoping something was getting through to him. But he didn't show. Dean had gone from explaining how sorry he was, to getting angry at him for ignoring him for so long, then he went to pleading and begging. The tears finally came. He'd really fucked up and he didn't know how to fix this. He missed him so much, so much it hurt. He didn't know how long he could go on like this.
On the fourth day the doctors allowed him to be discharged. For the first time since Cas had left, he cracked a smile, finally happy to be free of this prison. Sam helped him to the car. They drove straight back to the bunker. Finally, home. He thought about calling Cas, to tell them he was home. But he knew he would be ignored. What was the point? Maybe later he would try. He needed a decent shower and a decent meal first.
He did just that. When he returned to the main room, Sam was on the phone. He waited, listening, back turned to him. Didn't see Dean.
"Okay. I will. Take care, Cas."
Dean choked on the pain that was now strangling him. He collapsed back against the wall. He was taking calls from his brother. He was purposely ignoring him. He didn't want to talk to him. Now he knew he'd fucked up. There was no going back to normal after this. He'd finally fucked up enough to lose his best friend.
Sam turned with wide eyes as he spotted his brother. Dean had tears sliding down his cheeks, burning his flushed skin. "Dean?"
He shook his head and left Sam confused and alone. He couldn't be near his brother, not at the moment. He rushed to his room and took his anger out on the items inside. Crashing, smashing and banging his way through each object. Yelling, trying to relieve the pain that was clawing at his insides. He wasn't angry at his brother. He was just being a friend to the angel. He wasn't angry at Cas. He couldn't blame the guy for wanting to avoid him. No, he was angry with himself. Angry that he'd finally pushed the one person away that actually put up with all his shit, the one person who stayed by his side no matter what. Sam never did. He always ran, never being able to cope with the shit Dean provided. But Cas, Cas never did. Cas always stayed. But there was only so many times Dean could push Cas away before the angel finally had enough.
He collapsed to the floor. The anger draining away, the tears falling faster than ever. Sobs shook his body. This was what true loss felt like. This wasn't like losing all his friends and family. This was a loss he'd never truly experienced before.
This was the loss of someone he was most definitely, and hopelessly in love with.
- SUPERNATURAL -
Okay so Dean has finally realized that he's in love with Cas. Do you think they'll make it through this? What do you think Dean's reaction to that revelation is? Drop me a review and let me know. I'm dying to hear what you all think.
Thanks to everyone for the wonderful support you have provided for this story. I hope you are still enjoying. I am sorry for all the angst. But nothing in life is easy, right?
Until next time.
