A/N: Thanks to my not signed in reviewer. And to all you others, your responses to this make me so happy! :)

Stay tuned tomorrow, Aini NuFire and I will be starting to post our collaborative fic, Into the Breach ! It's an alternate version of the S12 finale, starting with Cas's first trip into the other world... where he finds someone he didn't expect. And what if he and Mary got trapped over there...?

But meanwhile, the boys need some care and comfort! Please enjoy ^_^

Dean stirred the soup, watching minuscule bubbles starting to trickle to the surface as the meal heated on the stove. He hated leaving Sam at the hospital; the blood-stained jacket hanging on the nearby chair only served as a reminder that his baby brother wasn't there with him. He'd have to clean the thing, but for the moment he still needed to take care of Cas.

No matter how many times he ran through it all in his mind, Dean could not escape the obvious conclusion: this was all his fault.

Only the knowledge that Cas was right down the hall and needed him to keep it together prevented Dean from breaking down just a little. He, and that stupid Mark on his arm, had done this to Cas and Sam.

Dean exhaled, long and slow, and grabbed a bowl from the nearby cupboard. Then, on second thought, he grabbed a large mug instead. He wasn't sure how well Cas would be able to handle a bowl and spoon in the shape he was in, but he did know that the angel-of-the-Lord would not appreciate needing to be spoon-fed.

And that was another thing… what the hell had happened to Cas? Sam had seemed pretty sure it wasn't anything Cole had done—though Dean still wanted that story, just so he knew what specifics to worry about. If it wasn't that bastard, though, how was Cas as weak as he was?

For that matter, Dean suddenly realized with a throb of guilt, when had Cas showed up in the first place? They hadn't heard from the angel since that whole thing with Metatron… the battle that had nearly cost Dean his life or worse. Why had Dean not tried harder to make sure Cas stayed in contact?

Oh, right, because he'd been too busy avoiding everyone else himself, because he was a coward who'd run out on his brothers so they wouldn't have to see what he was becoming. How long had Cas been in trouble, and why hadn't he called on Dean if he needed help? Was it because he could see what the Mark was doing to him, and he'd thought Dean wouldn't care enough to help him? Had Cas assumed that Sam would be too wrapped up in Dean's problem, so hadn't even bothered coming to them?

And if that was the case, well, Dean couldn't even blame him. Which was precisely why the guilt was crushing the hunter now, because any doubts that Cas had in him were completely justified.

Sighing, Dean turned off the stove and poured the heated soup from the pot into the large mug. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, the hunter then made his way down the hallway towards the dormitory wing. He was nearly there when a crash from Cas's room urged his legs into a panicked sprint.

"Cas?" he shouted, shoving his way into the angel's room and then pausing as he caught sight of his best friend sprawled on the floor with a look of embarrassment and chagrin. "Cas! What the hell?"

"Oh, you're… you're still here. I, um…"

Dean hastily put the soup and water on the bedside table and rushed to give his friend a hand. Cas wasn't meeting his eyes, clearing his throat awkwardly as the hunter grabbed his elbow and helped him stand.

"Of course I'm still here, I told you I was just gonna heat up some soup. What happened?" Dean demanded as he guided Cas back down onto the bed. "What were you-" He broke off, looking at the open door, then back to the angel as his heart sank. "Were you… running away?"

Oh god, did he think Dean was going to snap and try to hurt him? After all, the Mark had driven Cain to do terrible things… And Cas had just seen for himself the violent fit of rage Dean was becoming increasingly prone to…

"I, um… must have passed out for a moment… lost time… thought you'd gone back for Sam," Cas muttered evasively. His hand clenched and unclenched in the blanket, then he sighed.

Dean wasn't sure what to say, but if Cas was going to be a flight risk, he needed to know that now… before he left to see Sammy, only to return to an empty bunker. Running a hand through his hair, the hunter turned away and said,

"Cas, I- look, man, I'm under control now. I'm not gonna hurt you. Back there, with Cole, I know I kinda went off the rails a bit, but he'd tortured you and Sam. Even without the Mark, I still would have-"

"Dean, what are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, Cas." Dean turned back to the angel at last, needing his friend to see how truly and achingly guilty he knew himself to be. "I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry I didn't try harder to find you before, and… for taking this damn Mark to begin with, and for whatever it's turning me into. Hell, even without the Mark, I've done enough crap that I know you probably don't trust me, so-"

"Dean." Cas coughed again, though it was only a few sharp bursts instead of an entire fit. He cleared his throat and shook his head, scrutinizing the hunter with that same damn piercing stare he'd always had. "I'm not sure why you're apologizing, but I gather you feel guilty about something. I'm not angry with you, my friend. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Dean snorted. "That why you were recreating your own version of the Great Escape just now?"

Again, Cas looked down in chagrin. "I… I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't intend for you to believe that was a sign of mistrust in you. It's just…"

The hunter waited, but Cas didn't seem intent on finishing. Frowning, he stepped closer. "Just what?"

It took a moment for Cas to look up at him, and when he did, Dean could see the utter weariness in his eyes.

"I'm dying," the angel murmured. "I'm sorry. I just… don't want you to have to see it."

Dean's heart dropped to his stomach, lungs tightening against an iron band. Sammy had told him as much, but the hunter had been holding onto denial; Sam had been in pain, possibly delirious. But from Cas's own mouth…

"Look," he said, trying to stay calm. "Whatever it is, whatever happened, we'll fix it. We'll fix it, Cas."

"It's not something-" Another heavy cough, sounding wet and curdled like rotting cream. "-something you can fix."

"It's always something we can fix!"

"It's the grace, Dean," Cas said with a haunted glimmer in his eyes. "I took an angel's life and stole his grace. An angel is dead, and-"

"He was torturing you! He would have killed you!" Dean snapped, blood heating again.

"And now he will anyway. This grace is going to burn out, Dean, and it's going to take me with it. I would rather you and Sam not be close by when it does, as I have no idea how violent the resulting explosion-"

"Okay, stop." Dean wasn't going to listen to this. He'd come too close to losing his brothers already, and he wasn't about to end up without Cas anyway. Not after everything they had been through. Scowling and shaking his head, the hunter insisted, "It's not gonna come to that. Look, at least we know what the problem is. Me and Sam will think of something. But you gotta promise me you'll give us time, okay, Cas? You don't get to just clock out on us. Not if you haven't even given us a chance to figure something out."

The angel sighed, not agreeing but at least not arguing either. Dean couldn't be sure whether he was actually getting through to his friend or not. Grabbing the mug from the table, he pressed it insistently into Cas's hands.

"Here, drink this," he pleaded. "While it's still warm."

"It's not going to do any-"

"Damn it, Cas, will you just let me take care of you? Huh?"

Damn stubborn angel. Dean glared at Cas, arms crossed, until the angel finally sighed and raised the mug to his lips and took a slow sip. Despite the previous protests, Dean heard the softest noise of satisfaction at the hot soup, and Cas didn't lower the mug until he'd drank nearly a quarter of the contents.

"There, was that so hard?" the hunter groused. His expression softened, though, as his eyes shifted to the angry red lines encircling his friend's throat. They hadn't faded much, if they'd faded at all. "Do those still hurt? We should have some ointment around here somewhere…"

Cas glanced at his wrists, twisting them almost introspectively, before shaking his head. "No. I'm just… tired."

Dean nodded. "Okay. Well… drink the rest of that, then get some sleep, okay?" He paused, then added in a lower voice, "Cas, promise me you'll give me a chance. We'll find something. But… if you run off… Cas, I can't-"

He broke off, not sure what he could even say to fully elucidate just how devastated he would be if Cas ran away to die alone, like some stray cat that no one wanted. The thought of Cas hunched up in some dirty motel or back alley, all by himself as his life burned away, was an image of Dean's nightmares.

Perhaps his pain showed on his face, and maybe that was what did it, because Cas was watching him now with sadness and comfort and guilt as he finally nodded.

"Okay, Dean… I promise."

"Thank you."

"But," the angel interjected, "if I tell you and Sam to run, if I feel like the stolen grace will burn out… explosively… I need your word that you will do so immediately, without question or argument. Promise me that, and I'll promise you that I will stay."

Eagerly, but not so eagerly as to arouse suspicion, Dean nodded. "Okay." Not a chance in hell.

But it made Cas relax enough to lean back against the headboard of the bed and drain the rest of the soup from his mug, even letting the veggies and bits of meat slide down his throat with the broth. Another soft sound of relief escaped the angel, the soup clearly more refreshing than he'd wanted to admit. Dean took the mug and set it aside, handing Cas the water next.

"I gotta ask," the hunter finally muttered, already hesitant for the answer. "What happened, man? I know you probably don't wanna think about it-" Nor did Dean himself. "-but I need to know what we're looking at. How did that guy find you? Did he hurt you? What… what exactly did he do to Sam?"

A spasm of pain crossed the angel's face. Dean already knew from Sam's injuries that it must have been horrific for his brother, but what must it have done to Cas to be forced to watch and be powerless to help? And what other wounds had been inflicted on either of them that they couldn't see?

After a sigh, Cas closed his eyes. "Sam was coming to find me," he started hoarsely. "He stayed on the phone with me the entire drive. I- I heard it happen when Cole took him." And bit by halting bit, Cas went on, filling Dean in on every detail that had led to Cole's final demise.

SPN SPN SPN

Sam wanted to stay in the blissful reaches of unconsciousness, somehow knowing in the back of his mind that the waking world would bring an onslaught of pain. But he also had a vague recollection that someone needed him. Which meant he couldn't sleep forever.

"Sammy?"

That voice was the only catalyst he needed. Sam pried his eyelids open, blinking dazedly against the bright light surrounding him. His brother's face swam into clearer focus. As soon as Sam's mind was able to process that Dean was sitting next to him, everything else began to fall into place as well.

"Hey," Dean murmured, relief smoothing out his face and voice. "How you feeling?"

Sam groaned and tried to reach a hand up to rub his head, though he paused when he felt various tubes and lines pulling at the motion. "Like I went a couple rounds with a semi," he grumbled. The hunter shifted as though to sit up. Immediately, a furious throbbing in his chest had him rethinking the maneuver.

"Just hold still for a while," Dean insisted, already starting up his mother hen routine that Sam knew he would later deny having.

Not that Sam would complain; it was comforting, so familiar and so Dean.

In this case, he didn't have much choice but to do exactly that. Sam glanced down at himself, seeing the edge of a sterile white bandage peeking out from beneath the hospital gown. Breathing felt a little easier—his lung must have been re-inflated and functioning properly again—but his entire body felt like he'd been trampled. Those broken ribs would take a while to heal.

Not to mention the other two gunshot wounds, Sam thought ruefully. Even with those patched up, he'd have to stay off his feet for a bit. He was just grateful that Cas had put his knee back together, the one injury he'd feared from the start might permanently ruin his ability to hunt.

Or walk.

Which reminded him… "Cas?" Sam asked, watching his brother's face for any trace of hiding bad news. His pulse quickened, given away by the monitor beeping close by. Dean glanced at the monitor as well, before replying,

"He's home. And resting. I got some soup in him, so… that's something." Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then leaned back in the hospital chair he was sitting in. "He told me what happened. Sam…"

He trailed off and looked away. Sam frowned, knowing his brother well enough to pick up what was going on underneath the surface.

"Dean, you know Cole coming after us, that's not on you. You know that, right? Hell, we know how screwed up someone can be after losing family like that."

"No, I know that," Dean retorted. "Doesn't change what he did. Doesn't change why he did it. I'm not sorry I put the bastard down—him or his dad—but if I'd just been home… If I'd even bothered to check in on you… or Cas, I mean, I-"

He broke off, enough waver in his voice to lay his emotions bare for even Sam's groggy mind to see. Sam took a deep breath. Before getting captured, he'd been fully prepared to lay into Dean for going off on his own, but even he had assumed the danger would be to Dean, not to himself. Certainly not for Cas. Now, seeing the guilt-ridden shine in his brother's eyes, Sam didn't have the heart or the inclination to berate him.

"Don't," he said simply. "Dean, what's done is done. Yeah, you shouldn't have run off. But you didn't know what would happen. I mean, I'm the idiot who didn't even realize I was being followed, left the car out in the open for him to put the kill switch in. Let him get close enough to knock me out."

"Yeah, 'cause you were worrying about Cas," Dean pointed out. "I'm glad that… you know, at least one of us was a good enough friend to go get him. If you hadn't called, if he was still out there…"

"I know. I don't want to think about it, either."

Dean nodded but was still avoiding Sam's eyes.

"You're here, Dean," Sam murmured, trying to reach for his brother but only managing to move his hand a few inches. "That's what matters. When Cole tried to call you and you didn't answer, I- I thought…"

"I know. Sammy, I'm sorry," Dean sighed. "I shouldn't have run out on you, and then not even being in communication? Dad would tear me a new one if he knew. It was the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"And you've done a lot of stupid things," Sam immediately reminded him, cracking a small smile for the first time in weeks. "Don't get me wrong, I'm still kinda worried you're just gonna go taking off again-"

"I'm not," Dean interrupted with a glare. "I'm not going anywhere. Besides… whatever's going on with me, we've got a more important problem."

Sam's expression fell, shoulders slumping. "Yeah. Cas. We'll have to take care of that Mark eventually, but… it does seem like he's got a shorter timeline." Even in his own mouth, the glib words tasted foul. A shorter timeline… they were losing Cas faster than they were losing Dean, and he was already losing Dean way too fast.

And here he was, laid up in a damn hospital bed, not contributing to finding an answer. Taking a breath, Sam tried to sit up again. If he could just get up, get moving, he could escape back to the Bunker and start researching... The movement made his stitches pull, though, a throb in his chest making him groan.

"Whoa, whoa!" Dean snapped, a hand on Sam's shoulder to urge him back down. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Where's my clothes?" Sam asked with a stubborn scowl. "I need to get dressed."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sammy, don't be an idiot. You can barely move. They had to put your lungs back together, you get that? Let them heal for one damn day so I don't have to worry about you breaking something on the ride home. You're gonna have to stay here the night." His expression softened though, and he finished with, "Sorry, Sam."

Sam released a frustrated huff and brushed his hair from his face as he snapped, "And who's gonna start all the research? You're gonna go through the Men of Letters' library all by yourself?"

"Don't be a bitch." Dean leaned over, grabbing the backpack he'd brought in with him. He unzipped the main compartment and pulled out Sam's laptop, which he handed over with a rather smug look. "I brought you a present. See, sometimes I do things that aren't stupid."

Eyeing his brother, Sam nevertheless took the offered computer with a lighter heart. At least this way he could be trying to help Cas.

"Thanks," he muttered grudgingly. "You know… I really didn't want to bring this up, but we need to start resigning ourselves to the possibility-"

"Possibility of what?" Dean interrupted, jerking back from Sam. His eyes flashed with lightning, a thunderous glare focused on the younger hunter as he snapped, "We're not resigning ourselves to Cas dying!"

Sam lurched up again, pulling on an IV line running into his arm so hard that it nearly came out, as he stared at his brother in stupefaction. "What- dying? That's not what I was going to say! You think I'd ever give up on him that easy? Me?"

Dean seemed mollified, leaning forward again and holding up his hand. "Okay, sorry," he said, eyes flicking to the monitor that was beeping fast enough that it would trigger a nurse to come running in soon. "Sorry, Sammy. What were you going to say?"

"I was trying to say, we need to think about options," Sam snapped. "It's the grace that's killing him, right? He said it was burning him out. Like, poisoning him, using him up basically."

"He mentioned."

"Well… I know he's not gonna like it, but… if that's what's causing the problem, we might need to take it out."

Dean didn't respond. His mouth twisted, eyes looking anywhere but at Sam. The younger hunter understood. The very idea made his own gut clench, sickened at the thought of doing to their best friend what Metatron had done to him. Taking away his grace… even if they didn't carve it out as barbarically as the scribe had, Cas would be devastated.

"There's gotta be another way," Dean muttered now, gruff and still not looking at Sam. His voice echoed with hopelessness, though.

Sam wanted to believe, too.

"That's why I want to start researching," he pointed out. "It's a last resort, I know, but… like I said… we might need to start thinking about it."

Sam winced as he realized this would mean Dean was left with the duty of broaching the subject with Cas. That wasn't going to be a fun conversation, and his brother wasn't exactly known for his tact in handling sensitive situations.

…maybe they should wait until Sam got home…

Dean ran a hand through his hair, then shrugged. "If it's what ends up keeping him alive, that's all I care about," he said with the same gruff tenor. "I should call him anyway, make sure he's okay-"

"Dean… go home," Sam urged, already opening his laptop. "You're right, I'm not getting out of here tonight. Come back for me tomorrow. Go home and check on Cas. Make sure he eats a bit more. There's nothing you can do for me here."

When the older hunter hesitated, Sam looked up from his computer and shot him a wry smile. "Besides," he added, "you're too distracting. I need to research, so you need to go away."

"Hey, I know when I'm not wanted," Dean groused, holding up his hands. When he stood, though, there was an obvious lift in his shoulders. "You're sure?"

Sam bit back a comment about how he'd survived the past month without Dean there to hold his hand. It was a low blow, and it would accomplish nothing but lump more guilt onto Dean's already impressive complex. Instead he waved Dean off and nodded to his computer again. "Go. I've got work to do."

"…Okay, if you're sure. I'll be back for you tomorrow, okay, Sammy? I promise."

Yup. Dean and his complexes. Hearing the unspoken anxiety for Sam to know Dean wasn't just going to leave and not come back, the younger hunter obligingly met his eyes and offered a solemn nod.

"See you tomorrow. Tell Cas I'm doing everything I can. We'll figure it out."

Dean nodded, wavered another moment, then finally scooped up his bag and disappeared out the door. As soon as he was out of sight, Sam sank back into the hospital bed with a weary sigh and a heaviness in his heart.

Despite his optimistic words, he had absolutely no idea how they were going to get their angel back on his feet…

And he just couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over yet.