-NO SLASH! Thank you!-

19

God Help Us

"Where is he?" Dean said as soon as he walked through the door, Sam directly behind him.

Annabelle looked murderous, tears on her face. "You guys think you could've mentioned torture?" She hissed.

"Annabelle-"

"What? Here I'm thinking he got hit by a car, or food poisoning, or he was in the hospital somewhere. But this? Who the hell would hurt him like this? How could someone…Were they mad at you, or what? 'Cause I know better than to think Cas did something to provoke something like this! Just tell me what the hell happened!" She was breathing hard, her face red, tears stagnant in her eyes.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, speaking silently before looking at her again.

"You're gonna wanna sit down, Annabelle," Sam said. "And you have to understand that what I'm about to tell you is the God's honest truth."

"I'm goin' back there with Cas," Dean said.

"Um, he, he's sick," she said quietly. "I mean, he's really sick. I gave him some medicine to try and break his fever but…but he's all cut up and, and I think he's been shot. I don't know how to help with that, I didn't know what to do and he wouldn't let me take him to a hospital and-"

"Hey," Dean said gently, holding her shoulders. "It's alright. I'll take care of him. He'll be okay." She nodded, sitting down on her couch across from Sam, ready for whatever he was going to dish out.

Dean walked down the hall, glancing inside each room, looking for Castiel.

He entered the bedroom when he found him, his eyes pained.

He was so pale. He was shaking lightly under the covers. Dean hoisted the duffel off of his shoulders, taking out the first-aid kit and a bottle of whiskey.

He carefully touched his face, trying to get an estimate of how high his fever was. He frowned at the intense heat.

"Ahn!" Castiel grimaced, flinching away, his eyes fluttering open.

"Hey, hey, Cas, it's me!"

I hugged him close, looking down at his now bare torso, deciding what the hell I should do.

His shoulder had stopped bleeding, the damp scab over it and the skin around it bright red with infection. I didn't know if the bullet was still inside him, or if he would know if it was. It didn't matter though. No matter what, it was gonna hurt like hell.

He was covered in bruises. His wrists were swollen and battered too. God, that son of a bitch was gonna be sorry for this…

"Shh…it's alright, Cas. It's okay. You're gonna be alright." I carefully laid him down, taking out the peroxide, gauze, needle, and thread and unscrewed the cap on the whiskey. "Okay, Cas," I said, dreading what I was about to do. "I'm gonna have to take care of that shoulder, alright?" He nodded. "Cas is…is the bullet still in there?"

"N-no," he trembled. I nodded.

"I'm gonna have to make sure, okay? It's not gonna feel good. The next few minutes are gonna hurt, buddy. But hey, when I'm done it'll feel better, alright?" He sniffed and nodded, watery eyes terrified. I winced, touching his forehead. "It'll be alright, Cas. I promise."

I felt around his shoulder, trying to see if I could find the bullet. Then again, Zachariah would make sure that whatever he did to Cas wouldn't kill him. At least not quickly. Cas whimpered and jerked weakly out of reflex. Shut his eyes, clenching his teeth, turning his face away.

"Shh, it's okay." I looked at the whiskey bottle wondering if Annabelle had given him anything. "Cas, did Annabelle give you any pills?" He nodded. "What was it?"

"I-I don't know."

"Alright, alright, what did they look like?"

"Th-they were blue. An-and they were gel." I nodded. NyQuil. I wouldn't be able to give him any whiskey. But I could use it to numb his shoulder.

"Okay, Cas. This is gonna hurt really bad, alright?"

I think re-opening it was the worst part. I gave him a washcloth to bite on, apologizing more times than I could count. I poured whiskey on it, squeezing his hand when he hissed, tears leaking out of his squinted eyes.

"Shh, I know, I know."

The peroxide was worse. He screamed into the rag, back arching. He collapsed a second later, breathing hard, sobbing softly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Cas, I'm so sorry. I know it hurts, I'm so sorry." I gently touched his forehead, feeling horrible for what I was doing. "It'll be alright." He shivered again, eyes shut, lips trembling.

I had to stitch it closed, it'd get infected all over again if I didn't. I wrapped it tight to keep air off of it.

"Shh, alright, Cas, almost done. Shh…almost done."

I had to do the same thing to the gash on his stomach. He sobbed quietly when I took the cloth out of his mouth.

"Dean…" He moaned, sobbing into the pillow.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," I hugged him again. "I'm sorry, Cas. I'm so sorry. I know it hurts. But that medicine should kick in soon and it'll make it stop hurting, alright?" He nodded miserably, body shivering against me.

"Okay, hang on just a sec, Cas," I said, reaching down and grabbing my duffel, since my clothes were the only ones that would fit him, and even then they were a little big.

I carefully got him dressed; putting a t-shirt on him even though I'd have to change those bandages in a few hours.

He hugged me tighter than I thought he could, crying into my shoulder. "Thank you, thank you…"

"Hey, hey, easy buddy. It's alright. Shh…" I let him cry, hugging him until the NyQuil kicked in and he fell asleep. I laid him back down, staying on the edge of the bed. If he had a nightmare someone needed to be there. There wasn't anything worse than waking up from something that scared you half to death alone. I would know…

I covered him back up, making sure he was warm enough and felt his forehead again. No change.

I sighed, running my hand over my face and licking my lips. I wondered how Sam was doin' with Annabelle.