SPN15FIX-IT
Sam took down the last vamp-mime, the tainted blood plastering over the barn wall. He turned towards the barn door.
"Dean, come on. We need to get moving, find the boys."
"Sammy." Dean whispered. He turned back to Dean, who was still leaning against a support.
"What? Dean, we need to go."
"Somethin's wrong, Sammy." Dean coughed, thick blood on his lips. Sam's mind immediately went to the bodies behind him. Maybe- maybe one of the vamps turned him while I was out- his thoughts whirred rapidly- -that one vamp, Jenny. She must have bled into his mouth while the other two were holding dean's arms. but we can fix it, we can cure it, we have before, and-
Sam's thoughts were interrupted with another fit of coughing, and he rushed over to dean. "Did they turn you? Dean, there's blood-"
Dean grasped at the fabric of Sam's flannel, and he spat, "My back, Sammy." Dean used one hand to hold himself up on Sam, and the other to unbutton and pull up his shirt. Whatever was ripping through his back was pushing against the walls of his skin, like a dull toothpick on a balloon.
Sam put his hand on dean's back, and he felt it- a stray piece of rebar, that stupid vampire in its stupid mask pushed him into it. Dean's eyes were foggy, desperate to keep his eyes on Sam. His words were slick with blood and slurred, but he whispered "Sam, the boys. Go."
Sam laughed, his voice also wet, but with tears- of course Dean wants him to go. Saving people, hunting things, self-sacrificing whenever possible. "Dean, no, we can fix this." Dean shook his head, his eyes started to close against his wishes. "Dean, please, please." Sam turned around and stumbled to his knees, putting his hands together. "Jack, please, we need help. Dean's hurt, jack." He looked around, desperate for someone, anyone to appear. But there was nothing, just the slow trickle of blood from the headless bodies on the dusty floor. Hands off, Jacks words echoed through Sam's head, mocking him. Hands off. I can't help you.
Can't or won't? Sam argued to no one.
Won't.
"Sammy." Dean mumbled. Sam was at his side again, clutching Dean's hands. "I wanted-" he coughed again, and forced himself awake. "I need to say somethin'."
Sam nodded, wiping his snot on the sleeve of his jacket.
"Sammy, Cas was happy when he died."
Sam nodded, confused. "I know, dean."
"No, but…" dean shook the fuzz out of his vision, "You gotta know why. I need-" his breath hitched- "you to hear it."
"What? Dean, not now, not yet. I'm calling an ambulance."
Sammy dialed 911 as Dean spoke. "Sammy, he said-"
"911, what is your emergency?"
"Uhm, I need an ambulance, my brother is hurt." Sam gave the dispatcher the address and hung up.
"Sam!" Dean coughed, "Sammy please. This is the last chance for a chick-flick moment, so please."
Sam shook his head again. "what did he say, Dean?"
Dean scoffed at himself, which caused more pain than he had hoped. "God, this is stupid. He said he loved me, Sammy."
Sam blinked in disbelief. "He was family, Dean. Of course he loved us. We loved him too."
"No," Dean rolled his eyes at himself again. "He said he loved me. And he said-" Dean's words were really starting to slur, "He knew he couldn't have it, he said."
Sam's brain felt like it was short circuiting. He held Dean's hand tighter. "Dean, please stay with me."
"he thought he couldn't have it, Sammy. But he was wrong. And I," a bloody sob worked through Dean's throat, "I didn't say it back, he just left, and I didn't say anything.
"I been tryin', Sammy, to be the man he saw," Dean's eyes were closed, now. But there were still so many tears falling from them. "I loved him, Sammy. I needed to say it out loud. Just once."
Dean pulled Sam close, not caring about the pain springing through his back. He out his head on Sam's chest, listening to Sam's heart beating so fast it seemed to be trying to pump enough blood for itself and dean's. Sam put his hand on the back of dean's head and sobbed. "It's okay, dean."
They sat like that for an eternity, just listening to each other's breath as dean's slowed and Sam's stayed at a steady stream of way-too-fast. They both noticed, after a minute had passed, that the ground had started rumbling. It was quiet at first, but it quicky began to intensify. The rusty lights above their heads began to wobble, and the shingles on the roof began to shake.
"it real?" dean asked. Sam nodded and picked up his machete.
"Maybe…" he stared up at the roof, "maybe it's just the wind."
The lights that were wobbling before started exploding, sending sparks down and searing their clothes. NOT the wind. Dean was almost alert, his eyes trying to focus on something, anything.
The doors of the barn flung open, smearing the vamp blood on the dirt in a perfect bend. A shadowy figure stood in the doorway, walking towards Dean as Sam held out his blade in defense. Light shone, now, revealing shadows of transparent wings on the wall; wings of an angel that couldn't still exist, no angel had intact wings since the Fall, except the Michael and Lucifer, who were both dead. No, it was neither Michael nor Lucifer, nor was it a Nephilim. It was Cas, his wings back in all their former glory, and he had his hand out, reaching for dean's face.
Dean was almost gone, now, his eyes were half closed, and he was crying at the angel who stood before him. "Cas?" he whispered. He looked to Sam, "Real?" Sam nodded again.
"Hello, Dean." Cas put his hands under his Dean's arms. "This will hurt."
Cas pulled Dean off the rebar that was lodged between his ribs, set him down gently, and put his hand on Dean's cheek. Soft light glowed from his hand as the wound in dean's back slowly closed. The color in dean's face returned, and the life in his eyes was back. Cas started to pull his hand away, not wanting to make dean uncomfortable with the prolonged contact. Personal space, Cas, the soft memory spoke to him. Dean, however, grasped Cas' hand and held it to his cheek. His green eyes were red with tears, and his chest ached as he held in sobs. "Cas, you're really back?"
Cas smiled down at dean, not breaking eye contact. "I always come when you call, Dean."
Dean sat up at that, wrapping his arms as tightly around his angel as he could. "You stupid son of a bitch." He laughed and sobbed, and Sam stared down at the two with confused pride.
They sat in silence again, until the sirens of an ambulance got closer. "Dean, we need to go." Sam said.
Both Dean and Cas huffed, not wanting to let each other go. Cas helped Dean stand, and neither made any attempt at limiting the amount of physical contact they made. "wait, Cas. There's something I gotta say."
"I heard you, dean. Jack brought me back." Cas placed two fingers on both Dean and Sam's forehead. They were back in the bunker, standing in the library. "My wings are back."
"I could tell," dean smirked. Miracle ran up to the boys, barking at the stranger in their midst. Dean got to his knees, pulled the dog into a hug. "it's okay, girl. This is Cas, yes, good girl."
Cas chuckled at the strange voice dean was using with the dog, and Dean took his angel's hand again, letting Miracle lick it. "Dean, is it customary for Humans and canines to lick each other as a greeting?"
Dean laughed, tears spilling over again. "I'm glad you're home, Cas."