Chapter Two

The older Winchester had stopped moving in front of the door of room 122. He just had frozen and hadn't twitched for more than a minute. Sam had waited beside his brother. He had an idea what was going around inside the other man at that very moment. He knew that Dean never had been the kind of talking guy. Not when it was about his feelings. But they had been together his whole life and he knew him better than anybody.

Maybe the only other person knowing his brother as good as he did was on the other side of that door. A person his brother cared very much about. And only because this caring was vis versa Dean was hurt worse than anything by any action of said person that implied he wasn't trusted.

And also when Castiel had told Dean and Sam that he still felt like being treated as a "tool" it surely had hurt Dean way more than the hunter ever would be able to admit.

But exactly that was the problem with the two men. Well…the man and the stoic angel. They both were damn screw ups when it came to talk about emotions. Dean because he was taught not to do such girly-shit by a broken father and Castiel, because angels never were meant to feel much anyway. Sam wasn't even sure if Castiel was really able to sort out what was going on with him without help of people who had experienced emotions that strong all their life.

At a very early stage in his growing friendship with the angel Sam had began to notice that the more Castiel became weak like a human or was in a lot of interaction with them, he began to show very different und unknown sides of his personality. Maybe these parts always had been there, but had been hidden by his angelic-soldier-drill or something like that. The more Cas was close to his charges, the more he was adapted in behaving and seeing things the human way, the more he revealed, that in fact he seemed to be a very sensitive character. Full of heart and caring for others. Filled up with faith for the love of his father and with love for his father's creation. Whatever Castiel did, he did it with the most devotion.

Perhaps that was the reason he got himself so deep into vulnerability for anything the Winchtester's did or thought of him. And the bigger part of his devotion was reserved for the human who's very soul he had touched when rising him from the pit. The profound bound that Castiel and Dean shared not only made their friendship (or whatever that was they shared) not only stronger, but both of them more open for hurt on each other.

Maybe at some point on their way Castiel had developed some need for affection…for belonging. And as much as Sam loved his brother…Dean had somehow sucked in showing the angel enough to understand that he meant the hell a lot to him.

Perhaps it was because Cas was new to all this. Perhaps Cas needed more to be convinced that they had not really been angry with him only for having secrets but majorly because they had been worried as hell about his wellbeing.

Sam sighed. He should try to talk to his brother at some point about all this to be sure that what he thought was right. But right now the most important thing to do was to courage Dean to go inside that room and face the situation.

"Dean. We can come back tomorrow. The doctor said that Cas wasn't awake anyway. Perhaps we all nee a bit rest at first."

"No!" Dean barked. Sam wasn't offended.

"I'm still mad, you know? Why am I still mad at him. Gosh…I have the feeling I am even worse than I was when he left the bunker."

"I know, Dean."

"How could he do this to me?"

"I don't know."

"It wasn't my fault, Sammy. It wasn't. I didn't betray him, did I? It wasn't my fault that he punched my back in that cave. It wasn't my fault he took the tablet. I didn't make a deal with Crowley. He did!"

"Dean…"

"I am still mad…but why do I feel guilty, huh? Why is that, Sammy?"

"Go inside and find out. We can't stay outside here. That's weird."

Dean gaped at the door in front of him as if it would jump him right in the face at any moment. Then he nodded.

"I know. This ain't get easier, does it?"

Sam made two steps around Dean and grabbed for the knob. Dean somehow seemed thankful that his little brother took the initiative and made a first step into the room.

Dean nearly froze again when he was finally inside. Sam only took a deep breathe and walked towards the bed Castiel was actually lying in. Dean tried hard to move. He somehow did but he went through the motions like a rusty robot.

Castiel, mighty angel of the lord was lying on the hospital bed. Tubes were everywhere stuck into his body. Painkillers and antibiotics as well as blood pumped inside the unusual pale body. A machine made sure his breathing was steady…the monitor showed a low but steady heart rate.

Dean hated the sounds of hospital machines. He hated the scent of antiseptic and clinical detergent.

He hated to see the angel being like this.

He hated most that none of this was caused by an accident…or a fight. That this was the result of free will. Wasn't that great? How free will was supposed to be something good and pure and was twisted into to something that ended on a hospital bed?

Because this damn son of a bitch decided by his free will that he wasn't worth it and that he could as well die? That Dean didn't show him enough how much appreciated he was and that he had no place to go any more…so he could go forever?

A finger snap caught his attention. Sam had taken one of Castiel's hand in his own and watched his brother intensively.

"We didn't know it was so bad. We weren't abel to prevent this."

"Speak for yourself, Sam." Dean wasn't abel to look his brother in the eyes. Sam tilted his head, not looking away. But his gaze still was warm. At least Dean would talk.

"Why would you say that?"

Dean took a seat on the other chair in the room after he moved said chair to the other site of the bed. He exhaled.

"Do you remember when Cas came back from Purgatory that evening? When we were alone talking and you came in?"

"I guess so."

"I had asked Cas to go back to heaven and sniff around a bit…to see what is up there, you know. But he totally lost it. I'd never seen him like that, Sam. He told me he couldn't go up because if he would see what he'd done…he…"

Sam waited patiently for his brother to continue.

"Sam, he told me, that he would probably kill himself after really seing what he'd done. He looked my straight in the eyes, Sam and told me that he was devastated enough that he was close to end himself…that it needed only so much to push him over that verge."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. You came in…he never really mentioned it again…I never really bothered to ask. I should have, huh? A great friend I am."

Sam didn't know what to say. It actually would have been nice to know about this earlier, but he did know why Dean hadn't been able to talk about this. Talk about something makes it real. Makes you to have to deal with this. Not only with the emotions of the other person, but also with your own fears. In this case of loosing someone.

Again.

"How did you feel about him saying that?"

"What?"

"You did understand me."

"I dunno. I was afraid, I think. The moment he looked at me...telling me he might actually kill himself…Sammy: it was as if he thought he had no value in this world. And when he later told me that he had wanted to stay in Purgatory for punishment…it somehow broke something inside of me. Why would he think of himself so low? Didn't we tell him over and over that we wanted him in our life? Didn't I tell him? Didn't I show him?"

Sam shifted on his seat.

"Dean, it is not your fault that his self esteem is that low. That he tends to punish himself that much. Self love is nothing others can bring to us… it has to come from inside. You only can help someone by showing that you accept the person for who he is. That's all."

"Yeah…I did a pretty shitty job on that, too."

"Lately…yes. Castiel isn't used in all these feelings. In the host he never needed to love himself or forgive himself. He just was there to function in the way he was told. No questions, no doubt. It only is naturally that he doesn't cope so well with that concept. He made some bad decisions…he thought he did the right thing but failed colossally and at the end hurt exactly those people he wanted to protect. I think he might need a win somehow. See that he can do something right. That he matters. But how to do that…I have no idea. He is very hard to convince. And we're not the best role models on this too."

Dean didn't know what to say. He looked at the pale features of his friend. He remembered Cas when he met him in Purgatory. How there was no glow in his friends eyes. How he had to push and pull Castiel to go further. He had felt it, but hadn't been able to let it surface let alone talk about it.

Castiel had been casted out of heaven for him. He had given up all he had known…all that his life was about…the big plan, his family, his kind…just for humanity…for the Winchesters…for him. Dean thought about how he had failed in showing Cas how much all this was appreciated. How Cas had thought that to bring him out of Purgatory had only been an action of guild. Well…Dean had thought about it a thousand times and had come to terms with that this wasn't the case.

He had needed Cas being in his life. Help him find a way. Trust him. Be part of his little family together with Sam.

He should tell Cas about this. Find out if the angel knew. Right now he only sat there beside the body wrapped in gauze and a light blanked and tubes all over him and watched him breathe in a steady rhythm.

He could not prevent Cas from doing as he pleased, but he could the hell show him that he was not only needed, but wanted.

Cas felt the bone break beneath his fists. Again and again.

"Do it, Castiel! Kill him!"

His world was a blur. It felt unreal. Where was he again? What was he doing? What was he holding?

"Cas…I…I need you…."

Who was talking to him? He stopped his motion. …I need you…He was needed? Of course he was…he was a weapon. He was a soldier…a tool.

He was needed.

His vessel's heart arched. This all felt so wrong. He didn't want to do this!

"Kill him, Castiel!"

"I can't…! "

I don't want to!

Free will. Team free will. Dean. I was Dean's scent in this place. The scent of his blood. He knew this scent too well. And there was the light pain again in his fist. His fist on Dean's face. His hand grabbing a collar.

From one moment to the next Castiel snapped out of it. Snapped out of Naomis world. Snapped back into the cold world of free will. He looked down on the hunter kneeling before him.

Suddenly Naomi was beside Dean…the scene somehow froze. She smirked an awful smile and raised a hand to stroked dark blonde hair.

"He needs you, Castiel. Like we all do. Needs your strength, your power to fight. He will give you nothing. He only wants to take. You as well can stay with me instead. I also need you. I need you, Castiel!"

He shook his head and pushed his hands to his temples.

I need you.

The scene shifted. He was in heaven. In the old heaven. The heaven full of angels. His body felt so free. Free from a meatsuite. Free from free will.

Raphael sat before him in a white chair. Castiel stood in front of him. Obedient. He was chosen to fulfill a great task. He felt honored that his skills were assessed capable to fulfill this difficult duty.

Raphael looked at him with nearly a friendly smile.

"I was told of your excellent skills. You are strong and faithful, aren't you, Castiel?"

"Yes, Raphael."

"You will be convoyed by a garrison to guide you down and back with the soul of the righteous man. The fight that awaits all of you will be devastating. Most of you will not make it back."

"We are aware of that."

"Very well. I know what your abilities are. I need them now more than ever, Soldier."

"I will not disappoint you and your trust in me, nor will my garrison."

"Sure you won't. Whether you surface with the soul or die trying. I need you to give yourself to heaven, Castiel."

"Don't doubt me, Raphael."

And he felt no doubt. No reason to do so. He would go down to hell, not matter what. To pull the soul of Dean Winchester out of the dark.

He felt that his faith was needed. His abilities were needed.

He was needed. It didn't matter what happened to him.

It didn't matter back then.

But this time it felt different. He himself was of no importance. Only what he was able to give. Only his skill…only the things he as tool was able to do.

He felt honored and yet it touched something inside of him he didn't knew it was there. He was sad. He felt belittled. He felt unworthy of love. Because he didn't matter. He mustn't feel that way…that was prideful. He should not be so proud…he didn't deserve that. He was designed to be a tool. A soldier…a weapon….

Why did it hurt all of a sudden? Why did it hurt there wasn't more?

Of course he would go down to rescue Dean Winchester…of course he would…but was it so wrong to have at least someone to wish for him to make it back in one piece?

Was that so wrong?

He began to fly up. Why up? He didn't know. Wasn't hell supposed to be downstairs? Why was he feeling like being pulled further up?

And why did he begin to feel more and more heavy by raising? His legs began to arch…his arms…his wings felt heavier with every beat. His head began to whirl and finally his abdomen began to burn like fire. It felt like his insides were ripped outside. He observed his pain and was shocked to find himself diving into it. Like he deserved it.

He didn't deserve to have someone to feel warm for him. But he deserved the pain. He deserved to starve in Purgatory. He deserved to feel dropped by his friends. He deserved to feel alone.

Because he had no value. Nothing he did was helpful when it was done out of his own free will. He sucked at it. He had failed in whatever direction he had tried to go. With them, without them. The more he tried the more damage he caused.

He didn't know how to end this. He couldn't stand it anymore. He wanted peace. He was so tired of feeling worthless. He couldn't go back to the host to make his feelings go away again…and he couldn't make it live with them either.

He tried to scream. Why would nobody help him to end this? As he shifted his throat felt hoarse. And he as he tried to gulp he couldn't. Something was blocking his vessel from doing so. He tried to breathe in his own pace but wasn't able to. Air was forced into him against his will and he had to exhale when he didn't want to.

He felt trapped. He was trapped in this meatsuite. He couldn't move. There were noises he didn't recognize and why the fuck was he not able to breathe properly?

A new sensation began to rise in his gut and there was the intensive urge to gag. He wanted to get rid of whatever was blocking his throat but he couldn't. He wanted it so badly but wasn't able to. The nervous feeling changed into something stronger. He felt like he couldn't breathe yet there was air forced into him. He began to panic.

"No one cares that you are broken, Cas!"

I care. I am afraid to lose my brother. I am afraid to lose this world. Why don't you help me?

Why am I so harsh?

Castiel stood in front of him. Eyes all puppy and wearing his white hospital suite. White shoes. No tie, but his trench coat. Vulnerable. Open.

Why did he punch him emotionally? Why did he transfer his own anger, his fear his helplessness to the angel? It wasn't fair. Being like this the angel was defenseless. He couldn't stop Dean from hurting him.

He would fly away in any instant. Dean knew it…because he had been there before.

But the angel didn't. He simply stood before the hunter. All others around him were gone. Only Castiel and Dean.

Castiel's face began to become wet. A single tear began to roll down his cheek. Then another. His yes bleed from tears. His blue orbs shouted devastation. The man began to shiver, to sob. He began to fall onto his knees. More tears melted with his face. His shoulders began to sack down. He became a crumpled picture of misery on the floor.

Yet Dean did nothing to comfort him.

You didn't mean it, fool. Tell him!

Castiel's abdomen began to become wet too. Every sob made his body tremble and emerge more hot red wet on his shirt.

"Cas, you're bleeding."

The angel looked up in Dean's face. His tears had become blood. And not only his gut was bleeding from inside out…so did a spot where his heart was. His heart was bleeding.

"No one cares that you are broken, Cas!"

Why did he say it again? What was wrong with him?

The angel before him lowered his head, looking down the floor.

"I know," was all Cas said before Dean felt his world shifting.

Noises made him look around. The trench-coat Castiel…the bleeding angel was gone. He heard alarming noises around him. Dean blinked and pryed his tired eyes open.

He remembered that they had come to visit Cas in the hospital. He had felt tired but wouldn't let Sam to make him go out for a motel to sleep there. So he had stayed and obviously had fallen asleep with his head on the tip of the bed.

There was motion beneath the blanked and Castiel's hands also moved.

From one second to the next Dean was awake. He stood up so fast that the chair fell to the floor with a loud thud. Dean searched for Cas's face and saw the angels eyes white opened in shock. There was panic written all over his face. He made choking noises.

Dean knew what this was happening. He had been there too when he had been in hospital several times.

"Cas, buddy, you have to calm down! Everything is alright. Look at me! You're intubated. Look at me!"

Cas wide eyes searched for the source of the words that had been spoken to him. He was so disoriented that he didn't recognize the voice. He barely recognized what the voice was talking about.

"Castiel! .Me!"

Something grabbed for his face. Two hands on each side of his head. They directed his view to another face. A familiar face. Castiel tried to focus.

He knew that face. He knew it. Somehow he managed to focus on the green eyes that started at him worriedly. They sent something warm inside him. Did these eyes care?

He tried to stop moving.

"Good. Calm down. Don't fight the breathing machine. If you do so it feels weird. We will get this thing out of you, ok?"

Castiel tried to nod. He didn't know if he really did, but obviously Dean had seen it. The hunter gently rubbed some hair out of his eyes that had fallen there during his panic attack. The touch felt strange. His eyes might have told that because Dean pulled away slightly and mumbled a quite sorry.

Dean looked for the door. He waited for something. The monitor was going back to normal. The heartbeat calming down to a stead but stronger rhythm.

"Well, I will search for a nurse to come and put this thing out, ok?"

When Dean began to remove himself from the bed he was grabbed by the wrist. Castiel squeezed his arm and his face showed desperation.

"Ok? Shall I stay? We can push the button for the nurse to come."

Another squeeze and slow shake.

"Cas…you need assistance with this."

Squeeze.

"Ok. But don't move. This will hurt a bit and is really unpleasant. I'll pull it out, ok? Try not to gag just let me pull. Do nothing. You understand me?"

Dean began to take hold of the tube and with the other hand hold Castiels face down. He began to pull and the angel really worked hard on not to throw up instantly. Panic tried to raise again but he tried to blink it away. Dean's voice again was talking to him: "Nearly done. Don't get lost. Stay calm. Nearly…nearly….aaaand out."

Castiel gasped for air and coughed right afterwards. His throat felt sore and hoarse and on fire and he really was thankful that this device was out of his shell.

A glass of water appeared in his sight. It was a feeding cup held by Dean.

"You should only drink a little sip first. It will hurt a bit, but it will help. Believe me. I've been there."

Castiel thought he could try and sipped out of the cup with the help of the older Winchester.

After Dean had placed the Cup on the nightstand beside the bed he cleared his throat and tried to find a spot to look at but at Castiel. So did the angel.

But finally Dean started to speak again.

"Cas, you scared the hell outa us. Why…"

"Don't." Castiel stopped him right away. His eyes began to burn. Moisture began to fill the edges.

"Please! I didn't meant to be so harsh the other day. I...I need you, Cas. We need you!"

If his throat hadn't hurt like shit Castiel had begun to laugh. Of course he needed him. Everybody needed him. He was so tired of it. So tired of being needed.

"I can't help you anymore. I'm no help for anybody anymore. Just leave and let me be. Please Dean…if the remains of our friendship mean anything to you…ever did…leave!"

"Cas…just heal yourself and come home with me. We can talk when you feel like it. OK?"

"No. Thank you for your help with the tube. Tell Sam, that I wish him the best, but I can't go back with you. I have no home to go back to. I never had. I never will have. I rebelled…I made grave mistakes…I have to deal with the consequences now. And I will."

"By committing suicide? That is not dealing, that is avoiding to face it. You're better than that!"

Dean had raised his voice in anger. He was so mad at Castiel. Shouldn't he pitty him? But he couldn't. His anger was what kept him from falling down on his knees and breaking apart.

Castiel shifted his head to face the hunter with sad eyes.

"Dean, why did you say you need me?"

"What?"

"What do you need me for?"

"I…I…" Dean didn't know how to answer that. Cas was family. He knew that.

"I cannot do this anymore. Raphael, Michael, Naomi, Crowley,you…you all need me in one way or another. I am so tired, Dean. I was able to be happy with fulfilling needs whole my life, when there was nothing but duty, but something changed when I began to be around humanity for too long too close. Now it eats me up…my essence…my powers…my will…there is nothing left. I can fulfill nothing anymore."

"Cas,, please…don't do this to me!"

"It's not your fault, Dean. I knew what the risk was when I came too close to my charges. Angels are not supposed to feel that much. Now I know why. We're not made for this. It eats us up. Free will works for humans…it is a gift my father gave to you. But not for me, Dean. There is nothing but pain in it. I wished the leviathans had killed me back in Purgatory. I wished you and Sam had found out earlier about me and Crowley…and had killed me. But it didn't happen that way. The only thing good I helped with was avoiding the apocalypse and rescue you from hell. Everything after that was a mess. I cannot go back to heaven and have Naomi make me kill people I care for…I cannot go ahead finding new home either, for I am too different to all the others on this planet. I'm all alone in a dark place. It is dark and there is no light for me. I am broken, Dean. A broken tool…useless for anyone around me."

Dean wanted to say that Castiel was a fool to talk like that. That he and Sam didn't only care for his use. That not everything had been bad…that there was plenty of light. That he would hate it to never speak to him again…that he liked hit when they just hung around to watch some TV or had a nice talk in the impala. When Sam and Cas went all Nerd about some bible stuff he never heard about. But he couldn't speak. There was a lump inside his throat that precluded him from bringing the right words out.

Something deep inside of him wanted to get angry again. Because that idiot in front of him didn't recognize his feelings and that he cared. That Sam cared too. What more would he be forced to do to show? Couldn't Cas simply get it? Why did he hurt him by saying that there was no light? That the world was only a dark place for him now? That hurt. That sucked.

Being the man his father raised him to be Dean was about to just stand up and leave the room. But something stopped him to do so. He remembered when he felt like Castiel more than once. As if nothing made sense. As if nobody cared. And no matter what people had told him…he wouldn't believe it. He knew this dark place. He knew this bitch very well.

And he knew that there were two kinds of love for somebody. The first was a taking one. Sucking away the life force to feed the own wellbeing only, but the second one was a giving one. When giving to somebody not took away energy but increased it in both sides.

But the second one was hard to find and at the beginning it was hard to go to the giving process because it hurt like hell. And the way was longer…and rougher. And there was no comfort on the first stage.

Go out…being angry with Castiel..feeling helpless and let it all go was the easy way. But at the end, Dean knew this for sure, it would not only cost him a friend…it also would destroy a part of himself. It also would destroy Cas.

He took a very deep breath…very, very deep. He gulped down his anger…he would deal with it later. Find the real source of it and punch the origin and not Cas for triggering it. He thought about what he really wanted.

He wanted to be around Cas and the other way around. He wanted him back home. Back in the family. Together with him and Sam: And he wanted hell, heaven and whoever alse to let him the fuck alone. But for this he needed to be strong now.

He stood up and arranged the chair back beside the bed.

"OK. Cas. I will leave. For now. But two things. You will tell Sam all this yourself. I am not your messenger. And second: I will come again tomorrow. Also the day after tomorrow…and the day after that as long as you're here. When you leave, I will find out your new place and be there too. You don't have to talk to me, but I will be there. Because that is what I fucking want to do. And don't think about flying away again. I will find you. I will waste a lot of time for this. So if you don't want to be a burden…just don't go puff…so that I find you more easily. And if it comes to my knowledge that you try to harm yourself again I will sure as hell kidnap and angeltrap you until you come to your senses. I cannot give you light though…that you have to do yourself."

With that Dean left the room with a pretty baffled angel remaining inside. On his way out Dean told the nurses that he removed the tube, what made them really pissed…and told them to observe his "brother" very closely because he didn't know if he might try to harm himself again. He would be back later and he also gave the hospital his other phone-number.

When he was outside the sun was already rising and the day was about to break. He fumbled for his phone and called Sam to come to the hospital to catch him. They had to figure out something because going back to a mental hospital was nothing that would work for the angel. He wasn't some delusional lunatic with a guild complex but a celestial being with thousands of years in his pocket and the very real guild of having killed hundreds of his own kind and the nearly disintegration of the whole planet. Dean guessed that there was no training for psychologists to handle things like that.

He had to find a way to give Cas light. Even if only a little. He knew it would not only lead to the redemption of the angel if he was able to do this, but it could possibly heal something inside of him too.

He had trailed away with his thoughts so much, that he wondered how long he had been standing there when he heard the rumble of the Impala coming closer.

Please be kind and leave a comment with some help, tell me how the english is...how you like the story so far...