Dean's eyes shone brightly in the early morning light, but his face was dark and malicious. He was nearing the injured angel, holding a silver blade in front of him.
"Dean. Dean, stop. Please." The angel's voice comes out in a weak croak. "Just- don't do this Dean-"
Before Castiel can finish, the hunter cuts him off, kicking the side of the cot in frustration and practically yelling, "How do you know my name?!"
The angel's blue eyes are wide from shock as he tries desperately to form words. "I-.. Dean-" Before he can gather his thoughts enough to make a coherent sentence, the sharp of Dean's knife is being pressed against his neck.
"You're going to start talking." Dean practically growls. His piercing green eyes are locked onto Castiel's blue ones, staring deep into them with a cold, cruel gaze. The brunette can't bring himself to talk. Of all the thoughts that run through his head, there is only one that he allows his mind to dwell on.
He has looked into Dean's eyes a thousand times. Castiel has seen those vibrant green irises every day since Dean was born. He has looked into them when they drooped ever so slightly with dark bags beneath them when Dean didn't get enough sleep. He has seen them burning with anger directed toward his father, a monster, or even occasionally his brother. He has seen them glassy and red rimmed from overwhelming sadness. The angel can practically read Dean's thoughts and emotion just by a glance and what he sees in the hunter's eyes now leaves him speechless.
At first glance, Dean's eyes convey that he is determined and serious. It's the same look that he has in his eyes when he is hunting, or interrogating a demon. But something is different this time. Behind the hunter's strong facade, Castiel sees a flash of fear. Dean is afraid. How could he not be?
Every moment since Dean stepped over the rail of that bridge has kept Dean on the alert. From the moment Dean heard the crash from outside he entered monster hunting mode for the first time since Sam left. The blonde had said he was done with that life. He had sworn that the most he would do is keep in contact with some of the other hunters to help with research. When Dean laid his eyes on Castiel in the junkyard, he must have immediately thought that he was a monster and a danger to Dean's life.
Suddenly Castiel is pulled from his thoughts by the sting of flesh being torn by the knife in Dean's hand. Dean is dragging the knife down Castiel's left shoulder, keeping his eyes locked on the angel's face. Castiel tries to no avail to squirm away from the cold silver of the knife cutting into his shoulder. It splits his now mortal skin easily, leaving a sharp pain followed by beads of blood in its wake.
Castiel hisses at the cut and squirms against the bed, moving his other hand to his arm quickly to attempt to cover the now bleeding appendage. The sudden movement of his arm sends pain jolting through his broken wing, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream that reverberates throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing back into the angel's ears.
The knife doesn't pull away from his skin. It cuts deeper, drawing a bright red line from his shoulder down his upper arm. The angel is pleading with his captor, screaming and yelling for the pain to stop, for Dean to stop. "Dean, please! Just listen to me!"
The hunter's eyes narrow into bright green slits as he practically growls out, "I'm listening." Dean twists the knife into Castiel's skin, bearing down harder to rip another scream from the angel's throat. Before the blonde can react, a shadowy dark wing is flailing and extending outwards.
Castiel's uninjured wing flaps open, striking Dean hard across his chest. The blow knocks the air from the hunter's lungs and sends him tumbling backwards toward the ground.
Castiel frantically struggles to sit up, flailing and rolling onto his side, and putting his weight on his left arm. He hisses from the pain that shoots through his body, burning in his right wing, left wrist, and shoulder combined with the dull and drumming of the soreness from the fall. By kicking his legs and shifting his weight, he manages to sit up despite the immobility of his left arm.
Blue eyes look over the handcuff in panic, noticing the blood pooling from his wrist and onto the cot. The wound was likely inflicted during the angel's struggle to sit up. He reaches down to fumble with the chain of the handcuff, hoping to find the other end attached to something that could be easily broken in order to ensure his freedom. He finds the other end latched onto a horizontal bar that extends the side of the length of the cot. Both of his hands latch onto the metal bar, yanking and pulling on it despite the impracticality of it all.
The ragged breathing of Dean Winchester gasping for air snaps Castiel's attention back to the hunter. Dean is hunched over himself, grabbing at his chest in pain, trying desperately to fill his lungs with air. A pang of guilt shoots through the angel's heart as he watches Dean's struggle. It reminds him too well of all of those times that the blonde had been hurt while hunting. Except this time, it was not a monster that has hurt Dean. It was Castiel. Despite all of those times that the angel has tried to protect his human, he still somehow managed to hurt him. The angel cannot help but think that to Dean, he must seem like just another threat, a monster that needs to be dealt with.
The thought is unbearable to Castiel, and before he can register what is happening, his eyes are brimming with tears. "D-Dean," the angel sputters out, his throat tightening with despair, "Dean I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't m-mean to." His body is shaking as his chest heaves with broken sobs while the blonde gets up and hurriedly makes his way toward the angel again, knife raised. Castiel can't bear to defend himself from his attacker, too disheartened by the idea that he was the one who has caused Dean harm.
As the knife makes its way down toward the fallen angel's chest, the only thing that the sobbing creature can bring himself to do is lift his free hand and rest it upon Dean's upper arm lightly. The touch is not intended to stop Dean from hurting him. Castiel believes that he deserves the pain now, for if he has hurt Dean, then he is in fact a monster and he would rather the green eyed man end his life now rather than risking Castiel hurting him again in the future. However, before the angel dies he needs Dean to know how sorry he is.
Castiel is blubbering on helplessly, sobbing and repeating his apologies and how he didn't mean to hurt Dean. His fingers tighten slightly into the blonde's arm, hand shaking as he chokes out, "I-I'm s-sorry, Dean. I'm s-so sorry."
It is not until his head hits Dean's chest tiredly that he realizes that he has not been stabbed by the former hunter. His body is shaking with sorrow, fatigue, and ache. The fallen angel has lost so much blood at this point, and it is due to this that he slowly loses consciousness, all the while crying to his protected about how sorry he is.
Hey guys, thanks for reading :D Sorry that this chapter took so long, please keep in mind that this is being written during my free time and there is no set day for updates. A big thank you to Hannah, my beta for this chapter, and to everyone who has left a comment on my work. :*
(Also if anyone wants to draw fanart of this story I would p much die of joy. it can be sent to my email wakingonprospit at gmail)
IMPORTANT! I am seriously considering writing a spin off about Sammy and his guardian angel (already figured out the story line and all) let me know what you think in the comments?