She dropped the burning match onto Castiel's right wing, watching as the feathers went up in flames. Whatever sounds Dean had heard before from the angel now seemed like nothing at all compared to the wails he was hearing now. Every light in the room blew out, leaving them in darkness save for the light provided by Castiel's burning wings. The door flew off the unit and slammed into another building.
Dean was screaming too, crying, pulling hard at his own shackles. He could feel blood running down his forearms and the little bones in his wrists snapping, but he didn't care anymore. He just needed to stop her.
As the fire went out, Cas's screams dampened down into choked sobs. Jada dropped to her knees and placed a little vial under his eye.
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Dean screamed hoarsely. It broke his heart to see his friend, who was so stubborn and powerful, lose a battle he'd fought so hard on.
"Shut up," Jada ordered as the vial filled up. "I warned him that I'd do whatever I had to. I'm only sorry I didn't pluck all of his feathers before I burned them. I would've been able to sell those too if I had."
She stood up and capped the vial, "Now, since he blew the door off with those God awful shrieks of his, you can both be cold tonight."
Once they were alone, Cas wept openly. Everything hurt him: moving, breathing, even being completely still. It felt as though his wings were still blazing even though he knew, logically, that that was impossible.
Most of all, though, he was humiliated. He'd chosen to remain stubborn against Jada. After all, she was merely human, even if she was a witch. He hadn't believed she'd actually hurt his wings. He hadn't believed she'd be able to.
It had been an arrogant thought, and he was definitely paying for it.
"Cas?" Dean called. He sounded desperate, but Castiel didn't have the strength to answer. "Cas, hang in there, buddy. Don't go to sleep. I'm getting us out of here."
The hunter awkwardly toed off his boots and worked off his socks, never taking his eyes off the small hairpin Jada had accidentally dropped on the floor a few feet away. If he could get to it, he'd be able to get them out of here.
Apparently, his legs weren't long enough. Even stretching as far as he could, he could just barely nudge the hairpin with his big toe. That wasn't good enough. He tried to relax the muscles in his shoulders and ignore the pain in his wrists to stretch a little farther, but he just couldn't manage to grip it between his toes.
Well I know what I'm working on when we get home, he thought in frustration. Finally, after what seemed like hours of trying, he finally managed to grab the hairpin and drag it closer. Then the challenge of picking it up began. Eventually he settled for squashing it between his feet and bringing it up to grab between his teeth. He gagged at the nasty taste of foot sweat and hairspray, but somehow managed not to drop it and to manipulate it into his hands.
After that, they were practically home free. Dean uncuffed and picked up his now silent friend to get him as far away as possible, even though he knew every motion would be like starting the fire all over again. All he had to do was get his friend to safety without him going into shock. Could angels go into shock? Dean wasn't risking it. All he knew was that the hard part was just starting.
Ever come up with an idea that is so wrong you're actually mad at yourself for thinking of it? That's how this went.
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