This was written for Batmary, the contest winner from the Ready, Fire, Aim Chapter Three Challenge. Her prompt was, "Write me something dirty from when Cas forgot about Dean." I hope this fits. I tried to make it as dirty as possible. I was blushing like a motherfucker writing this. It's completely different from what I normally write, but I think it turned out alright. HAHA! Enjoy!
Bury Me
Castiel's POV
There were several reasons why I chose to go to Dean at this moment, and none of them involved thoughts of purity. His eyes were black, and he was growling, licking his lips hungrily, like he couldn't decide what he'd like more; to eat me or to fuck me. His cock was throbbing, leaking already with pearlescent seed, and I couldn't help but stare. Oh, if he ever knew we were doing this, he'd kill me. But there was a demon inside of me as well, and it wouldn't let this opportunity pass. He wanted me, and I was willing to do whatever it took to capitalize on that. I knew I had the power to banish this demon to Hell and back, but his hands were so hot, hotter than Dean's, and I had wanted this for so long. I wasn't accustomed to this, at all actually, but his hands were guiding me to his pleasure, and I was keen to comply. The demon trap held him in place upon the wooden chair, but there was plenty of room for me to maneuver around him. He gripped my hips like a vice, pulling my back to his front. I felt his cock slide in between my cheeks; I circled my hips in response.
Teeth scraped over my shoulder as his hand slid to my stomach, caressing the skin there. He wasn't going to let me go, that was certain. He had me now, and he wanted to make sure I couldn't escape, not that I wanted to. Beads of sweat glistened over my skin as I rocked my hips into him as his hand worked me to oblivion. My head fell back against his shoulder as he growled in my ear, a low and frightening sound, but for some reason, it just made me that much harder. The monster's hand squeezed the base of my cock, running its thumb up the underside before sliding to the tip, spreading the emergent seed all over the flushed head. He ground up into me while turning my head slightly; I could see him lick his lips. This demon was a dirty one, of that I was for sure. He was a creature of complete carnality, one that I just played along right into his hands.
I was on him faster than even I thought was possible when he began stripping off Dean's clothes, tossing them at my feet. I knew he was toying with me, but I was weak and couldn't even say I regretted it. Not with Dean's calloused hands doing things to my body that I didn't even think was possible.
"Raise your hips," the demon ground out in Dean's voice, low and husky. I did as I was told without hesitation. The demon spat into his hand, rubbing saliva over the head of his cock. His knuckles grazed the cleft in my ass, and I had a split second to adjust before he was filling me completely. I cried out at the pain, knowing that it just made him smile; I could feel his grin against my skin. He thrust up once, twice, in time with hard pulls on my cock, and I fell away again, pressing my back against his front as my hips gyrated against him. His other hand gripped me like a vice, his blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of my inner thigh, lifting my leg slightly as he pushed into me. He wasn't wasting any time. He was not gentle; I did not expect him to be, and when I turned my head to the side, it was Dean I saw, not the demon.
When the demon turned his head to bite at my bottom lip, I caught a glimpse of his black eyes, and the illusion was broken; this wasn't Dean. The realization made me feel hollow, even as he continued to fill me.
"Close your eyes," I demanded of him, voice coming out in disjointed syllables. Surprisingly, he listened, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. I scraped my teeth over his jugular, feeling the rough patches of coarse hair against my lips. It could be like this; as long as he didn't look at me, I could pretend it was okay. I had never experienced something that felt like this. Dean was rough, but I liked it and didn't bother to stifle my moans as his hand began moving faster. He guided my leg to bend over the arm of the chair as his hand meandered down my thigh.
"I've never fucked an angel before," he whispered into my ear, biting down on the lobe. His wandering hand gripped the base of my cock before cupping my balls and slipping lower, fingertips pressing against the soft skin there. "Who knew it would be this easy?" I could feel his fingers trace lightly over my hole, spreading his fingers, probing where his cock pushed into me. "I like fucking you," he stated bluntly, "I can see it in your eyes that you like it, too." My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I unabashedly groaned, causing the demon to chuckle. "I can stay like this," he said, punctuating each word with a hard thrust, "and he could be yours." I could see where the demon was going with this, but I was beyond caring what happened as a buzzing began to form in my lower abdomen. "Do you want him, angel?" I know he could feel that I was close and was taking full advantage of that fact.
"Yes," I managed and he licked a stripe up my neck, thrusting faster now.
"Forever?" I felt a change come over me at the thought of keeping this demon, his and mine, forever. A darkness formed within me, and as the first hot spurts of cum covered his hand, I whispered, yes.
Emanuel's POV
Emanuel shot up in bed, head bursting with pain and sweat forming over his body. He looked to the side, smiling softly to see Daphne sleeping soundly next to him. He reached out and touched her face, pushing the auburn fringe from her forehead. She didn't stir, but sighed in her unconscious state, and he breathed a little easier. Emanuel pulled away and slipped soundly out of bed, pushing his feet into plush house slippers. Careful not to wake his wife, he retreated soundlessly from the room, making his way to the lower level of his house, intent on making himself of refreshing cup of tea. Once the mug was steaming in front of him, he retired to the comfort of his favorite armchair, and sat upon it, gingerly sipping his tea. This was the third night in a row he's had these disturbing dreams. He did not know the men in them, but he had seen too much to not believe that they meant something. He knew it would be unwise to ignore them, he just wished that they didn't make him feel so guilty.
Somehow, Emanuel felt like the dreams were a warning. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like something was coming, something bad that centered around this man, whomever he was. Emanuel sat, looking out the window for a long time, lost in his own thoughts of this 'Dean.' The sun was peeking over the horizon, and his tea had completely cooled before he stood, making his way back upstairs to his bedroom. Daphne was still sleeping, but he felt no peace in knowing that. She had been the one to pick him up and put him back together, and he was grateful, but he felt no love towards her. He wasn't even sure he knew what love was. It disturbed him to know that the most passionate he'd ever felt was when he was playing at 'demons and angels' with that man in his dreams. The guilt he felt was almost unbearable.
With one last look at Daphne, he turned towards their shared closet, taking out the clothing he would need for the day: khaki pants, a white t-shirt, and a powder blue sweater. He took a quick, lukewarm shower before donning the clothes and leaving a short note to Daphne, claiming that he was going out for the day and should she need anything, she was more than welcome to call him. He never understood why he felt the need to be so formal with her, considering they were husband and wife. Today wasn't the first day he asked himself whether he married her out of love, or because he felt that he owed her a debt. It was sad that he couldn't differentiate between the two, he knew, but he didn't know how to change it. He sighed as he locked the front door behind him. Maybe, he just wouldn't come back; he always felt more at home on the road anyway. He couldn't do that though, not to Daphne who had always been so kind and selfless when it came to caring for him.
Emanuel shoved his hands into his pockets, letting his mind free and his eyes wander to the clouds. He meandered to his favorite park and was surprised to see a child sitting on the bench he usually occupied. She was not accompanied by an adult, a fact that struck him as very odd. It was six o'clock on a Saturday morning, and this child was alone on his bench. Emanuel knew she was waiting for him, he wasn't sure how he knew, but he just did. He approached her slowly, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench. She kept her eyes front, but spoke to him as if she knew he would be there.
"You're Emanuel," she stated; it wasn't a question.
"Yes," he confirmed as she finally turned towards him, her large brown eyes wide and searching. She scooted a bit closer and touched his hand.
"My mommy said you have magic hands." Her voice was small and quiet, and Emanuel heard the sadness in it. He gently curled his fingers around hers, not saying anything, just letting her continue and offering what support he could. "She said that you fix bad things." She pulled her hand away and cast her eyes back to the ground. "Can you fix bad things?" she asked, sounding almost desperate, which was something that he'd never heard from a child before.
"I'm not sure." He was honest, not wanting to give the girl hope where there was none, but not wanting to disregard her either. "What kind of bad things?" Emanuel looked over at her when she shifted. She pushed up the sleeve of her cardigan; there on her left forearm was a bruise in the shape of a hand. Emanuel felt sick.
"My mommy has them, too." Emanuel took her arm in his grasp.
"Who did this to you?"
"Mommy said daddy loves her too much. She's always crying, so I didn't show her that he loves me too much, too." Emanuel was horrified, his eyes bristled with the sting of tears as he rubbed her small arm with his hand. The bruise faded, leaving the skin unmarred. The little girl gasped in surprise, "You are magic!" She jumped to her feet, "can you help mommy, too?" Emanuel couldn't help but nod. Of course he would help them.
"What is your name?" he asked, taking her hand as she led him away.
"Annabell," she answered tossing her red hair over her shoulder, "I've been waiting for you, Emanuel." Her eyes flashed, but Emanuel just followed her, eager to help.
He walked slowly back home, lost in thought. He was glad to have been able to help the family, and hoped now, they would be well. He healed the physical manifestations of the father's anger before pushing away the sickness plaguing his mind. His eyes focused on Emanuel for a moment before they misted and he gathered his family to him. Emanuel left them then, content in his work. Just as he was about to cross the street, he felt a tug on his hand.
"Thank you," Annabell said, giving him a meaningful look before running back inside her home. Emanuel couldn't shake the fact that she seemed to know him. Her eyes were a bit too deep, and her manner of speaking was not that of a child's, but he did not sense any malevolence from her. He resumed his former stance of walking with his hands in his pockets and his head in the clouds all the way back to his home. Once there, he was taken aback to find two men in a heated discussion on his porch. He had just opened his mouth to speak when there was a strange electric buzz and one of the men toppled down the stairs, landing at his feet. He took a step backwards in shock as the man's face registered. It wasn't a man at all, that much was obvious. The eyes were black and hollow, the features slightly human, but distorted as if they had been blurred. It was frightening to behold, but what frightened him more was the image of the man remaining in front of him.
It was him, the beautiful man from his dreams. This was Dean, but his eyes weren't black, instead, they were a bright evergreen, and they were desperate. Emanuel couldn't place the expression on his face; it was as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, and the feeling was more than unsettling. His eyes searched over Emanuel's body, and he couldn't help but feel a little violated by the open way the other man was regarding him. The other man took a step down, moving towards him as Emanuel stepped cautiously around the body at his feet. The man still hadn't stopped staring. Emanuel ascended the steps, coming face-to-face with the man who was, quite literally, from his dreams. They shared an intense look for reasons unknown to Emanuel, before he picked up movement from the corner of his eye. There, just inside and in full view, was Daphne, tied to a chair and gagged.
"Daphne!" he exclaimed, not sparing the man another glance as he raced into his home to help the woman who had rescued him.
Dean's POV
Words can't express the relief I felt when Cas walked back into my life. There was a small moment of disbelief and panic when I thought my mind was playing tricks on me; that I was only seeing Cas because I wanted it so badly to be him. Granted, I was torn between wanting to kick his ass and wanting to throw him down on the nearest piece of ground and fuck the life out of him, but the relief was still there, and that's what's important. The feeling was fleeting, however, as I watched the confusion trigger lines in Cas' brow. He stepped around the demon I had just dropped and ascended the stairs. I had only moments to take him in before his eyes flicked to the right, looking straight into the window where the woman inside was struggling with her bonds.
"Daphne…" he whispered urgently, barreling inside the house. I followed, watching as he released her and take her hand, keeping her close to his side. "I am Emanuel," he stated, holding his hand out for me to shake. In my surprise, I fumbled with my hands stammering out, "Dean. I'm…Dean." He merely nodded, turning his eyes back to the woman next to him, letting my hand fall from his as he secured it around her waist. There was no amount of recognition in his eyes. What the hell is going on here?
"Thank you for protecting my wife," he stated, and my eyes went wide. At this point, I was more than one hundred percent certain that my life was one cruel joke after another. Cas has no clue who I am, what we meant to each other, and here he was, introducing his wife to me like they were the fucking Brady Bunch of Suburbia 2012. His eyes narrowed slightly, and I could see that he was picking up on my confusion.
"Your wife… right," I managed, clearing my throat audibly. He gave me one more odd look before turning back to his 'wife', securing her in his arms. I couldn't help the jealousy that bubbled within, nor could I keep the ice out of my stare.
"I saw his face, his real face," he said and I was grateful for the subject change.
"He was a demon," I answered like it was supposed to be the most obvious thing in the world. He gave me nothing.
"Demons walk the Earth?"
"Demons, whackloads of 'em. You don't know about…" I trailed off, knowing that he didn't understand a word I was saying. Who the hell took away Cas and gave me this? I almost slapped my hand to my face. This guy would be no help. I needed a healer, not this idiot in Cas' body. Luckily, the woman spoke up because I couldn't form a coherent thought.
"You saw the demon's true face?" she asked, and Cas looked over his shoulder at her. I wished she would leave. "Emanuel has…very special gifts," she announced, turning to face me, but I kept my eyes locked on Cas. If I looked at her, I would have punched a hole through her simpering face.
"Yeah. I've heard about…Emanuel," I said, still looking at Cas. I could tell from his gaze that I was making him uncomfortable, but I couldn't stop. "That you can heal people." He met my eyes this time, and though I felt the jolt of electricity that looking at Cas always gave me, his gaze held no recognition.
"I seem to be able to help to a certain degree," he confirmed. "What's your issue?" he asked, and I felt myself relax in spite of my confusion. He was going to help. Thank God.
"My brother." Emanuel nodded and kissed Daphne on the forehead.
"Lock the doors behind us. I'll be back before you know it," he told her and gestured for me to lead the way. Once at the door, Cas, or Emanuel rather, paused and turned back to share an intimate moment with the woman. I turned away to avoid gagging. Yeah, this definitely wasn't Cas.
"Hey, shake a leg, healer." I couldn't use his name because it felt too awkward. The woman waved a good-bye to me that I chose to ignore, and within minutes, we were in the car and on the road. It was dusk and the streets were clear, so navigating to the highway was a breeze. Once there, I set the cruise control and tried my best to avoid staring. Concentrating on the road had never been so hard. It was a long drive back where Sam was holed up, and I really wasn't sure how long I could last without slipping up and referring to him as Cas. Life really was cruel sometimes. I ask for Cas back, and get this.
"Great," I mumbled, "just fucking great." I shook my head, and when I stopped, I noticed that he was staring at me. "What?" I grumped in annoyance, and he shrugged, turning his head away.
"You seem…perturbed," he said, and I could tell he was trying to choose his words wisely.
"No more than usual," I answered, and his eyebrows drew together.
"Than usual?"
"Never mind," I said realizing my slip-up. I glanced down at the clock; I lasted less than three minutes before I spoke too familiarly with him. I pressed down on the gas pedal. I needed my baby to go faster.
The hotel was small and seedy, but Sam and I had shared worse places before. There was a 19-inch television set with dial channel changers, a mustard yellow two-seater velvet couch, and two twin beds covered in moth-eaten sheets. I grimaced but tossed my bag on the bed anyway. Cas, Emanuel, or whoever the Hell he was took a seat on the opposite bed closest to the front door. I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it to the side. I left my t-shirt on for posterity's sake, though. Normally with Cas, I wouldn't have even bothered, but as I reminded myself for the umpteenth time, this wasn't Cas, and I doubted that getting naked in front of this guy would be well received. We stared at each other for a few uncomfortable moments before I stood, unable to take looking at him and seeing no recognition what-so-ever. There was a convenience store across the street and I hoped against all hope that they would have some form of alcohol to tide me over till morning.
"I'm going to head across the street for some food, want anything?" I asked him, stuffing my wallet in my pocket.
"Some water would be nice," he answered and began fumbling for money.
"Don't worry about it. What about food? We've been on the road for nearly six hours. You must be hungry."
"I'm fine, thank you." I nodded, knowing I would pick him up something anyway. I hurried to the door and looked into the window before making my way over to the shop. My stomach clenched as I watched Cas stand and walk over to my bed, before hesitantly reaching down to touch my discarded shirt. First, he fingered the collar, then ran his hand over the material. I turned away, before I went back in and did something stupid, but something grew within me at that moment. I wouldn't call it hope necessarily, but something that at least made me feel like this wasn't as hopeless as it all seemed. Maybe Cas was in there somehow and would show himself in little ways like that. I grinned despite myself and ran the rest of the way to the store, feeling lighter than I had in days.
Emanuel's POV
Dean had been wearing the same shirt when the demon came to visit me for the first time. Cas, he had whispered, but I had no clue who that was, at the time. Dean had spoken of this Castiel on the ride, but I still had yet to put a face to the name. Now, this demon was referring to me as 'Cas' and I couldn't understand why. Not that that was in the forefront of my mind as the demon stalked closer, unbuttoning his fly as he did so. He had shucked the shirt off earlier, tossing it into my face playfully. He was different now; I no longer had to hold him with a trap, he came to me freely and I had no objections. His smirk was devilish, a promise of malicious intent, and I couldn't wait to swear to it. I would give him anything he asked for, and he knew it. This demon in Dean's body was my God now, and I worshipped him greedily.
My mouth was nearly salivating by the time he stood before me, his weeping cock pressing insistently against my lips. I took him in without preamble, wondering all the while why this seemed so easy for me. In life, I had no memory of any of this, but in dreams, I was as wanton as a whore, lying on my back, legs spread, unabashedly begging to be fucked. I realized this was a dream now. I'd been to this world so many times before I was able to now recognize it for what it was, an illusion. I'd felt my desire for Dean the moment I saw him; it came from a place buried deep within me, and it clawed its way to the surface when my conscience was most vulnerable. I didn't mind so much, though it made riding in the car with him nearly unbearable. The demon must have noticed that my thoughts were wandering, because he abruptly brought my attention back to the task at hand.
I felt his hands paw at the back of my head, forcing me to take in more of him. I complied, sucking his cock like it was my salvation. I closed my eyes and moaned around him, feeling him tense as he took his pleasure. My hands closed down over the firm globes of his ass, squeezing and kneading them, pressing him in deeper. I sucked selfishly and with abandon, giving more and more of myself to him as he did the same with me. He was my own idol, and I was intent on proving my devotion to him. He began to pump his hips as my tongue lashed around him, feeling him throb and pulse within me. I wanted it, wanted him, needed him to cum with my name on his lips. Not my false name, but the one he cries out when he's alone, the one he demands pleasure from…the one that haunts him.
"Cas…" he growls.
Yes, that's the one.
He throws his head back and shouts, "Cas!"
Once more, louder. The words are unspoken, but I know he hears me.
His back arches and a warm wetness coats the inside of my mouth as he screams, "Cas!" and I pull away, allowing his pleasure to form in web-like patterns along my lips, over my cheeks, and across my eyes. I open my eyes and stare at him. He grins down at me, his eyes green and unyielding. He grasps my jaw in one hand, pulling me up to stand in front of him. Squeezing tighter, he pulls me in. My mouth falls open as his lips press against mine, and I nearly collapse against him in reverence. He is my God, my enemy, my salvation, and I want more.
"Did you sleep well?" he asks, but through his nonchalance, I sense he is disturbed.
"Yes, why do you ask?" I retort, though I have a fairly good idea.
"No reason," he shrugs, I don't miss the way his eyes can't seem to meet mine, "you just seemed a little restless, is all." He was choosing his words very, very carefully, I could tell.
"Yes, I suppose I was feeling a bit…restless," I conceded, staring boldly into his eyes. He shifted, clearing his throat as he packed his bag.
"We'll reach Sam in about another six hours, you good with that?" I grinned, more at the fact that he changed the subject than at the prospect of helping him.
"Of course, Dean, anything for you," he smiles at me, it's shaky, but there and I sway my hips a little as I pass him. I'm not sure where that came from, but the beast within was rumbling to get out, and I was tired of repressing it. I no longer felt like Emanuel, but I knew I wasn't Castiel either. The two identities were warring within me, each struggling to cast down the other, and it was almost painful to feel them clash.
I slipped into the passenger seat as Dean quietly slid into the driver's side. He started the engine, but we just sat there, Dean staring at the steering wheel, me staring at Dean. I could feel something momentous was coming, I just didn't know what.
"Who are you?" he asked, and I struggled to answer.
"I…don't know." His breath quickened, as if my uncertainty angered him.
"Who are you?" he repeated, finally looking over at me. I was stunned by the intensity in his gaze, and locked within their embrace, I gave him my name.
"I am Castiel." I whispered, and all thoughts and images receded into nothingness as he shot across the space between us, planting his lips firmly against mine.
"I am Castiel." He answered with complete confidence, and in that moment, nothing could have prevented Dean from getting to him. Dean shoved his lips against Cas', feeling as much as he heard him moan against him. Cas turned in his seat, and Dean adjusted to fit in between his legs, rubbing up against Cas as he settled on top. He was going to fuck him, and he wasn't going to be kind about it either. It had been absolute torture to be with Cas and not have him remember who he was, or what they were, and Dean was intent on making sure Cas never forgot again. He nipped at Cas' jaw, trailing his hot lips down the rough column of his neck, forcing apart the two sides of his shirt. Once his chest was bare, he attacked that too, stopping only to lave attention on his nipples. The rosy buds hardened as Dean flicked them with his tongue, feeling Cas writhe beneath him.
"Moan for me, Cas. I need to hear you," he said, needing the assurance that this was, in fact, his angel. His God. Cas did, and suddenly, Dean's jeans became about two sizes too small. He sat back and pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, dropping it to the floorboards and instructed Cas to do the same. "I want it all off," he demanded, not caring that it was eight o'clock in the morning and they could be discovered at any time. Cas was all that mattered right now, the angel was all he could see. Dean vaulted over the front seat and pulled Cas back with him, settling him down on his lap. "I'm going to fuck you, angel." Cas' pupils were blown wide, so his eyes seemed more black than blue. Dean pressed his lips to the underside of Cas' chin, "Would you like that?"
"Yes," Cas hissed without hesitation. Dean grinned against Cas' skin, biting down before shoving three fingers into Cas' mouth, urging him to suck. Cas took what he wanted, coating his skin liberally before opening his eyes and glaring down at Dean with intent. Dean took the hint and unceremoniously drove into Cas' body, feeling the angel tense and grip his shoulders in response to the intrusion. Dean waited until Cas was keening and fucking himself on his fingers before pulling away and slamming himself in in one fluid motion. Cas kept up his pace, riding Dean with reckless abandon and Dean couldn't think of anything he wanted more. Sam became a distant memory, the outside world was completely lost as he delved into Cas again and again. The angel shuddered, his release imminent, but Dean wouldn't let him cum until he was ready for him to.
Gripping the head of Cas' cock, Dean looked him straight in the eye. "Don't come," he instructed, and then reached for one of Cas' hands to replace his own. "Lean back," he demanded pushing on Cas' chest. The angel's shoulders hit the front headrest, and Dean watched as Cas began stroking himself, still pumping his hips up and down on Dean's cock. A feral sound escaped his lips, and he could feel himself grow harder as he began meeting Cas thrust for thrust. Their skin slapped together, making obscene sounds, but they carried on, lost in their haze of lust.
"Dean…I can't…" Cas was whimpering now.
"Don't you fucking come." Dean held Cas' hips down driving himself deeper into Cas.
"Dean…" Cas' head was lolling on his shoulders as sweat was leaking down his brow from either exertion, or pleasure, Dean couldn't tell.
"Fuck…" Dean ground out. He needed more, so much more. Pulling Cas closer to him, he pushed the angel down on the seat, throwing a leg over his shoulder as he pushed in again. His hips snapped into a frantic rhythm as he reached between them to grasp Cas' cock in hand. "Now, Cas," he demanded, and Cas' eyes flashed open to meet his. "Now…" he said again as his hips stuttered and Cas' body clenched around him. Dean couldn't stop the moan that erupted from his lungs as Cas' cum shot over his hand and abdomen. Cas' back was arched, his legs were tense and Dean lost himself within the imagery, slamming into Cas one last time before he came, shouting unintelligibly.
His breathing was ragged and unsteady as he lowered himself down onto Cas who immediately wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
"You came back to me," Dean said, not caring how weak he may have sounded.
"I told you before Dean, I always will come back to you." Dean raised his head, looking into Cas' eyes for a long moment before stealing a kiss from his lips. They basked in the afterglow for a while longer before Cas shifted. "Should we get going?" he asked, and though Dean wanted to say no, clarity had unfortunately found him again, and he immediately felt guilty for forgetting Sam's plight.
"Yeah, we should have been on the road by now." Dean reached over into the front seat and snatched up his jeans, pulling them on, watching Cas do the same. Dean opened the door for Cas to exit first, and Dean grimaced when he looked down at his seats. After cleaning up the mess with one of his shirts, he climbed back into the front seat, threw the car into gear, and began hauling ass to Sam.
Dean's POV
As I watched Cas work with Sam, it became more and more apparent that I was going to lose one of them. Sam was screaming, and Cas had his eyes shut tight, like he was fighting off some terrible pain. It couldn't have lasted more than a few minutes, but still, the damage had been done. Cas turned to me, his eyes rolling, he looked like he was barely able to stand.
"It's done," he said as I rushed to catch him before he fell. I got him situated next to Sam on the bed before looking over at my brother. His eyes were open, and he was breathing soundly. I patted Cas' cheek a few times, and his eyes cracked open to meet mine. "Go," he said, "I will heal. Go." And with a slight push, he urged me to take Sam and leave. I pulled Sam's arm over my shoulder, but stopped by the door to look at him again. He seemed so broken, lying there on the bed, but he still had a smile for me. "Dean, come back for me." I grinned in return.
"I will, Cas. I swear." His smile widened and then his eyes fell shut. I knew I had only minutes to exit the asylum before demons and doctors alike caught us, so I wasn't given time to say my goodbyes. I concentrated on getting Sam to the car and us back on the road.
It hurt to leave him, but he had always come back to me, and there was no doubt in my mind that I would always do the same.
Thanks as always to my fabulous beta, Libranfate for being a sexy bitch and awesome as fuck.