"Fuck!" Dean shouted as he punched a wall in the bunker's garage.
Sam stood close by, watching. "Are you done?" He asked flatly as Dean cradled his bruised fist.
"How are you so calm? Castiel is basically killing himself!"
"Keep it down, he'll hear you."
Dean sighed. Sam was right. It was the only reason he'd been able to keep calm as Cas showed him all those cuts...The angel was hurting, and he didn't want to make it worse by showing how upset he was. How angry. He wanted to kill Metatron. Well, maybe not kill. Death was too good for the bastard. He wanted the son of a bitch to hurt.
"What are we gonna do, Sammy?"
"Maybe we could start by taking away all his sharp objects?"
"Good idea."
Castiel sat on his bed, reading a book. His bed. It still felt odd to call it that, but Sam and Dean had made a home for him in the bunker. He even had his own room. His thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
"Cas?" It was Dean.
"Come in," He called out reluctantly. After what had happened earlier, he felt awkward around the brothers. He couldn't stand seeing the pity and concern in their eyes. He just wanted to be alone.
"Hey, buddy." Dean sat on the edge of his bed. "How you feeling?"
"Fine." Castiel squinted. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Dean shook his head. "Nevermind. Hey, I'm gonna have to ask for your angel blade. And any other knives or various sharp things you got in here."
"No." Cas felt his anxiety spike. He needed his angel blade. He could live without all the other things, but he needed that to hold onto...the only thing he had left from when he was an angel.
"Cas, come on..."
Castiel got up and started gathering up his knives and razor blades. He put them in a box and handed them to Dean. "I'm keeping my angel blade." He stated, a hint of his old angelic authority entering his voice.
Dean nodded, understanding his attachment to it. He took the box of sharp objects, feeling sick as he pictures the razor blades slicing through Cas's skin. "Thanks."
Over the next few weeks, The brothers were reluctant to leave Cas alone. It got to the point where he finally confronted them about it.
"I'm not fragile." He told them. "I'm not going to break. I'm not going to kill myself, and I already told you I'd stop harming myself. You don't need to babysit me." He snapped with annoyance. It was true. Now that he knew 'cutting' wasn't an appropriate way to deal with his feelings, he hadn't done it since they had found out. He was proud of himself; it was harder than he thought it would be.
"Okay, okay...don't get your panties in a wad." Dean mumbled.
"I don't wear panties." Cas said with confusion, which caused Sam and Dean to grin. Although he didn't understand their amusement, it was good to see them smile again.
One week later
Cas was rummaging through the fridge, looking for food. The need to constantly nourish his body was annoying. "Dean, we're out of bread." He noted. He had grown fond of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Dean came up behind him. "Damn, we're running low on beer too. I'd better make a run to the grocery store. You wanna come with me?"
Cas shook his head. Some days were worse than others, and the past few days had been bad. He didn't feel like going out.
He didn't want to tell Dean, but the urge to harm himself was growing hard to ignore. Sam was on a hunt about an hour away. It sounded like a simple salt-and-burn, so he went by himself. Cas knew Dean stayed behind to watch him, but he tried not to let it bother him. He knew they were just worried.
"Okay, will you be alright by yourself for a little while?" Dean tried to hide his hesitation in leaving Cas behind.
"Yes, I'll watch the Netflix. Go."
Dean had barely been gone for an hour when the thoughts started getting bad again. Cas was alone for the first time in a month. He missed the blade. He missed the relief it brought. It was getting hard to breathe...
Luckily Dean had been able to find everything he needed in under an hour. He was on his way home when his cell phone rang. He got nervous when he looked at the caller ID and realized it was Cas.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Dean," Castiel's voice was just above a whisper.
"Cas, you okay?"
"No."
Dean felt his heart sinking, and he sped up. "Talk to me, what's going on?"
"I need help..."
"Hold on, Cas. You're stronger than this, okay? I'm almost there, just hold on..."
