Chapter 4 – Angel with a Shotgun

Hey guys, sorry for the late post but this has been the week from hell in so many ways. I hope you enjoy the chapter, please review xxx

The Cab – Angel with a Shotgun

I'm an angel with a shotgun,

Fighting til' the war's won,

I don't care if heaven won't take me back.

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe.

Don't you know you're everything I have?

Sometimes to win, you've got to sin,

Don't mean I'm not a believer.

..and major Tom, will sing along.

Yeah, they still say I'm a dreamer.

Sam was about to respond with the usual reply of jerk when he was thrown into the air. Great, what was Dean saying about easy and pie?!

Castiel watched wide eyes with his eyes wide open as Sam went flying past him, slumping into a tree and struggling back to his feet. Bobby and Dean soon followed and before Cas knew what had happened he to had been flung into the air, landing heavily on a gravestone. Which hurt. A lot.

"SAMMY? YOU OK LITTLE BROTHER?" Dean had scrambled back to his feet, sprinting over to the younger hunter and quickly checking him over before grabbing his salt loaded gun.

"Yeah, fine. Bobby?"

"M'fine." The three hunters stood and turned, each separately pointing and shooting their salt loaded guns into the space where the ghost had just disappeared from. They were a second too late.

"Damn it."

"Balls!"

"Cas?" Dean hurried over to Castiel, who had managed to scramble onto all fours, clinging his already wounded abdomen and letting out a long hiss of pain.

"Hey, Dean, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, how about you, are you hurt?"

"No, all good." Cas lied through his teeth, knowing that Dean would send him straight back to the Impala if he admitted that his side hurt like a bitch. He didn't think it was bleeding, but definitely badly bruised.

"Good, let's gank this fugly." Castiel nodded and began to stare around, checking that the ghost had not popped up out of nowhere again. When he couldn't see it he turned back to the gravestone he had landed on and made a note to himself to pray that night for Kevin Tyler when he got home, it was probably disrespectful to sprawl across a stranger's grave.

"How come it can hurt and move us like that? If it's a ghost then surely it's just vapor, or air. Or something."

"Some sorta negative pent up energy we think. Dunno really though, we've never had the opportunity to have a sit down, coffee and a chat with them. Bit annoyin really, I bet that would really help us on our hunts."

"DEAN!" Sam's warning came far too late and next thing Castiel knew he was lying next to Dean, who was lying perfectly still in an almost fetal position. It looked as if he had hit his head on a gravestone and had come off even worse that Cas had with his encounter with a huge lump of granite. Cas knelt over Dean, his heart pounding as he checked for a pulse with shaking hands.

"Castiel? Is he ok?"

"Y-yeah. I think so. He-he's breathing." Cas realized how hard he was shaking when he couldn't keep his voice straight, so he coughed in an attempt to clear his throat. Then, satisfied that he was at least half managing to pull off an I'm ok vibe, he pulled Dean into the recovery position and yanked off his trench coat and shirt, wrapping the latter around Dean's head, which was bleeding slowly from a deep gash. He then pulled his trench coat back on and buttoned it up so the others would not see the black bruising which had already appeared over his usually milk white skin. Well, milk white when he wasn't having the living daylights being beaten out of him, which was more often than not when he came to think about it.

Bobby then joined Castiel at Dean's side, giving Dean another brief once over before turning his attention back to the grave. With one hand he managed out unscrew the lid of the petrol, the other hand held tightly around his gun. However, when he had just managed to pour a few drops of oil onto the carcass, he was once again flung into the air. Just before he too blacked out Bobby wondered whether ghosts would come up with another way to kick hunters asses, being flung around by a rag doll was certainly getting old by the five-hundredth go.

"Shit!" Sam now took his turn, grabbing the petrol can from where Bobby had dropped it and sprinted to the grave, pouring the entire contents in before something hit him on the back of the head. Hard. Suddenly on the floor Sam stared up at the contorted face of the once pretty woman who had been killed in a road traffic collision so many years ago. For a moment he half believed that his wide, puppy-dog eyes would convince whatever human part of the ghost that was left, that she should leave him alone. But since when were things ever that simple.

Suddenly an unbearable pressure was put on his throat and lungs when he felt ice cold hands wrapping around his neck. He struggled wildly with both of his own hands, trying to pry the ghost's fingers off before his brain switches off from a lack of oxygen, but it wasn't that easy. He was already beginning to see spots but sheer determination kept him struggling. He had to stay awake for Dean; god only knows what the ghost would do to him and his unconscious brother if it was left to its own devices. And of course, he needed to protect Castiel. As far as Sam was concerned, there was no way Cas was cut out to be a hunter. He was hardly one to talk, but Cas was an emotional wreck, emotions flying everywhere. You just couldn't afford to be afraid or panic during a hunt, it was suicide.

The pressure around Sam's throat seemed to intensify and Sam let out a strangled gasp. This was usually the point where Dean would burn the fucker's body and send the ghost's ass back-packing on the way back to wherever it came from.

God, I can't breathe. I can't breathe! DAMMIT. Damn this all to hell.

Sam now really needed Dean to rescue him, just a few seconds before it was too late, but Dean was unconscious, and Sam would be to if this carried on for another twenty seconds.

But it didn't carry on.

Instead, Sam heard the loud blast of a shotgun. But it couldn't have been Dean, or Bobby, which left…

"Cas?" Sam doubled over gasping for breath and dry heaving, clutching at his tender throat and trying to massage the air into his lungs.

"S-Sam, are you ok?" Castiel was standing tall, his back straight with Dean's gun held tight in his hands.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Sam looked confused; almost as confused as Castiel himself looked. The man that no longer wanted to fight, who wanted to avoid all conflict and guns had just managed to grab Dean's disguarded weapon and shoot a ghost right in the head. Not even point blank, he was a good ten feet away.

"I just shot a ghost." Cas' voice was measured, calm with no emotion. Sam could tell that this was all just a façade, but he wasn't going to crack that eggshell. Cas' melon was damaged enough and he wasn't about to open the floodgates, not until Dean and Bobby were back in the land of the living and ready to help him put the pieces back together.

Realizing that the ghost would only be stunned for a few minutes Sam pulled out his lighter and was about to light the grave when he realized that Cas should probably do the honors. This was his first hunt after all and his kill. He deserved to bask in the limelight, or the flame light, or whatever.

With one swift motion he chucked his lighter over to Cas, who caught it with one hand, now standing with a gun in one and the lighter in the other. He looked down at the two objects confusedly; surely Sam didn't want him to burn the body. That was just so…wrong.

"You gonna smoke her bacon or what?"

"Me?"

"Your kill." Cas flinched but gave a determined nod. He wanted to pay the Winchesters back for everything they had done for him. He really did owe them a favor, or two.

"Ok." Cas made his way over to the grave and dropped the lighter into the coffin, watching as the bones were engulfed in hellfire. Cas watched the flickering lights for a few minutes before making his way over to the others.

Bobby had come round and was cursing like a trooper and Dean was now standing with one arm wrapped around Sam's shoulder. It was clear that both brothers were leaning on each other for support, but if you asked whether of them they would deny this and say they were not clinging on for dear life, but to keep the other upright. They were stubborn like that.

Cas walked forward a little so he could hear what Sam and Dean were saying.

"What the hell happened? You look like crap dude." Dean sounded half amused and half worried.

"Gee thanks, you can talk. You look like a damn mummy with that shirt around your head! Anyway, the ghost decided that throttling me would be a good laugh. Would have succeeded if it wasn't for Cas. Shot the bitch right in the head and burnt the corpse."

"Nice one Cas! Y'know Sam, you need to stop getting you neck wrung so often, how many times is this now?"

"Don't be a jerk."

"Don't be a bitch, pushover." Dean laughed and turned his attention fully to Castiel, who was leaning heavily against a tree looking shell-shocked.

"So, looks like you fried her bacon! Nice one, you really saved our skins!"

"Yeah, I guess I did." Castiel grinned for the first time in what seemed like months, he had finally done something right. Maybe he wouldn't be a lousy hunter; he might just be able to do some good in the world.

"Right, let's bury the bones and head off, before Sam goes and collapses on me!"

"You can talk, you're barely standin!"

"That's so not true, you're the one that's practically blue from asphyxia!"

"You're the one with a bashed in head…then again…at least there were no brain cells to get knocked out."

"Oi. Bitch."

"Jerk." Dean let go of Sam and they both stumbled a little before standing proud and acting as if their legs could defiantly support their weight, despite their condition. Cas to was putting up a façade, when the others were not looking he had snuck a glance down at the stab wound in his side when the others were busy arguing, and going against what he had thought earlier, it was bleeding. No wonder it hurt so much. With another glance he checked that no blood was soaking through his trench coat before joining Dean, Sam and Bobby who were kicking and shoveling dirt and grime back into the six foot hole in the ground. He to began to kick the soil in, letting relief wash over him when Bobby said that they should leave and get some shut eye.

When they arrived back at Bobby's place Sam, Dean and Bobby all took it in turn to take a shower, stitch up their wounds and grab a beer, none of them noticing that Castiel had visible paled and seemed to be barely with it. H wasn't responding immediately to their comments and eventually excused himself to have a bath in an attempt to soothe his aching muscles. No one noticed when he grabbed one of the sets of needles and thread, he had never stitched a wound before but he didn't want Dean to worry or Sam and Bobby to think he was a wuss. Therefore he ran the water to cover up any hisses of pain he let out and began to place neat sutures into his flesh, flinching every time he had to dig the sharp point into his skin.

When he was finally done he felt incredibly sick and dizzy but decided to get in the bath regardless. He was covered in mud, sweat and blood and really needed to feel clean. With a low groan he sank into the water, allowing his muscles to relax and barely noticing when he fell asleep.

Dean clambered upstairs, deciding that it was definitely time to catch some shut eye and that he should probably check on Castiel, who had been in the bath for well over an hour, which was just not normal for a dude!

"Cas? Hey Cas, you alright in there?" Dean gave a quick knock on the door that was left ajar, Castiel never shut or locked the door behind him, probably because he didn't like the feeling of being trapped.

When there was not answer Dean gently pushed the door open, freezing when he saw that the water Cas was lying in was red, and that Cas' face was beneath the water.

"SHIT! CAS, CAS! SAM! SAM, QUICK."

"WHAT?" Dean didn't answer, he was too busy hauling Castiel's limp frame out of the bath and lying the younger man down on his back, immediately checking for a pulse and finding a very, very weak throb at the base of his neck. However, when he placed a hand over Cas' mouth he realized that he was not breathing.

Instinct kicking in and overpowering his fear, Dean grabbed Cas' head and tilted it to the side, grimacing when he saw a trickle of blood red water trickling from Castiel's nose and mouth. Then, he carefully turned his head back central and pressed his chapped lips to Cas', strongly breathing into his mouth four times.

Sam and Bobby came in when Dean was on his third round of breathing his own life into Cas and they both froze, panic stricken.

"What happened?"

"Dunno." Dean let out a short grunt before trying again.

"Come on Dean, you can do this." When Sam and Bobby were just about to abandon all hope when Cas let out a small spluttering cough, a mix of water and pinkish for the escaping his mouth. He groaned a little and managed to roll to his side, gasping for air, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. He didn't have a clue what had happened and was only vaguely aware of Dean's voice calling his name.

"CAS!" Finally Dean's shouts were answered when Castiel turned his face towards Dean, who flinched on sight of the bluish tint that had formed around Castiel's lips.

"Dean?"

"What the hell man? What happened?"

"I-I don't know." Castiel leant into Dean and closed his eyes. He just wanted to sleep.

"C'mon Cas, keep your eyes on the prize, look at me Cas, I need you to tell me what happened."

"Don't know, was tired. Dizzy." Castiel closed his eyes aware, the fact that he was lying naked in Bobby's bathroom with three other men only vaguely registering in his mind.

"Bobby, what do I do?" Dean sounded terrified, what would happen if Cas went to sleep and never woke up?

"He needs some sleep he's out of danger now, we just need to warm him up and check that cut, although it looks like he fixed himself up. Probably fainted and slumped under the water, he had a tough day and I guess seeing all that blood didn't do him any favors."

"Ok." Dean grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Castiel's body, scooping Cas up, the younger man groaning a little feeling sick and going completely limp and pliant, allowing Dean to dress him in one of his own baggy band t-shirts and tuck him in gently.

"Cas, are you ok?"

"M'fine." Cas buried his head in one of the pillows and kept his eyes closed, waiting for sleep to claim him.

"Bobby? Is he meant to be that lethargic?"

"The guy nearly drowned Dean, he's hardly going to be up and ready to kill a wendigo or somethin. Let him sleep."

"I just..."

"He's fine. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried. I don't worry."

"Sure you're not." Dean turned to see Sam with two beers in hand.

"M'fine."

"Shut up and drink this, you look worse than Cas right now."

"Cheers." The sarcasm was almost tangible as Dean took the beer, downed it in five gulps before turning back to the bedroom.

"I'm gonna keep an eye on him, seya tomorrow." Dean stripped off his jeans and t-shirt, lying in just his boxers next to Castiel, who was barely awake.

"M'sorry Dean."

"It wasn't your fault. I just thank my lucky stars I got in on time. You are one lucky guy at times!"

"I am not good luck Dean."

"Sure you are, I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I guess so. If that's what you want." Castiel felt a warm feeling flood over him as Dean gently rubbed the tension out of his shoulders.

"I really love you Dean."

"Good. I love you too." Dean, feeling that his limit of soppy, chick-flick words had now been used up, decided that he could get his emotions over better with a kiss. He leant in and pulled Cas' head up to his own, pressing his lips to Cas' and rubbing his back, relishing in the way that Cas responded deeply and passionately.

When Cas finally pulled back he rested his head on Dean's chest, nuzzling against his muscled torso and allowing himself to drift off.

Yeah…that turned out soppy. Guess I'm in a sentimental mood! Hope you enjoyed it, I guess I was a bit random but any excuse for hurt Cas right? You all know we love a bit of puppy-dog-eyed Misha ;)

Anyway, please, please, please review. I think there will be one more chapter and then I shall turn this one in.

Reviews are my life and I am having a really rubbish week…REALLY rubbish, so yeah, they really do cheer me up x