AN: Okay I decided to continue and I have a third chapter on the way so yay you probably won't have to wait that long if you actually read this crap. Warnings for descriptions of wounds. Also, if you are wondering why I am not using actual curse words- I don't curse, and thus feel weird doing it in my writing. Just a personal thing. What I do though, is when I'm reading my writing (since I HATE too out of character stuff if I can help it) is actually use the curse word in my head. It helps, shush, it may not work for you, and you can be mad for ruining the characters for you, but yeah. Sorry! Just wanted to put that out there. I own nothing. I don't have a better disclaimer than that.
After ensuring that Cas FULLY finished his PB&J sandwich (and promising him that there would be better food once Sam got back from his supply run; like pie; and more pie), Dean escorted Cas back to his room.
"Okay," Dean ordered bluntly, "Shirt off."
Cas tilted his head in that adorable way of his. "I do not see why that is necessary Dean."
Dean sighed.
"I promised I'd take a look at your back, and I'm going to. Shirt off."
Cas grumbled a bit, but complied, slowly taking off his trenchcoat and unbuttoning his shirt.
Dean made a mental note to buy him some new clothes, but all such thoughts were wiped out of his brain at the sight of Cas' back.
"Crap, Cas," he breathed.
A brownish scab had settled over the majority of two once-gaping wounds in Cas' back. It was cracked in places, with bits of red infected flesh peeling off at intervals.
Dean took a deep, steadying breath before turning to Cas.
"These are scars, huh?"
Cas just staring down at his dress shoes, not answering.
"Cas, this will need serious treatment. Not to mention it's infected. Cleaning this sucker's not gonna be pretty, much less painless."
Cas continued staring at his shoes.
Dean sighed, putting a hand on Cas' shoulder.
"I'm not mad," Dean clarified, at the kicked-puppy look on Cas' face, "Just- tell me next time instead of dumbing things down, all right?"
Cas nodded mutely.
Dean smiled slightly.
"Right, let's get you cleaned up," he said, heading into the closet to get some first aid supplies.
"Dang, we're running low. Sorry Cas, you'll have to wait until Sam comes back with the supplies. I'll have to call him."
"It is not a problem, Dean. I didn't require assistance anyway."
Dean sighed exasperatedly at Cas' comment, but dialed Sam's number and didn't say anything.
"Hey Sammy," Dean started, "Can you get some peroxide, some alcohol, and gauze while you're there?"
"What happened? Are you okay? Is Cas okay?" Sam started questioning rapid fire.
"Yeah, I'm fine, and Cas is-" Dean glanced over at Cas who was giving him what could only be described as a death glare, "Um, well we'll get to that when you come home."
"Okay…" Sam answered hesitantly, wanting to ask more but deciding against it at Dean's tone, "Anything else you need?"
"Pie," Dean said, "And don't forget it like you did last time."
Sam sighed.
"You're going to corrupt Cas with your bad habits."
"It's PIE, Sam. You can't be human without PIE."
"Okay, okay," Sam grumbled, "I won't forget the pie."
Dean smiled, "That's the spirit."
Sam just groaned and hung up.
Dean turned to Cas again, who was struggling back into his button down, looking like he was trying to hide winces every time the coarse material of the shirt rubbed against his back in the wrong way.
"Whoa, Cas you don't have to put that back on. I'll get you one of my shirts. A dress shirt is not very conductive to healing wounds, and plus you look like you're about the pass out just putting your freakin' shirt back on."
"I'm fine Dean," Cas muttered determinedly through gritted teeth.
"Sure you are," Dean scoffed. "I'll go get some old clothes of mine, and you go take a shower. Make sure not to rub on your wounds too much though. Can you handle that?"
"Of course I can Dean, I do know something of human life."
"Right," Dean said, suddenly feeling a bit awkward at his protective nature. "Um, I'll be back in a bit."
When Cas came out in Dean's Metallica t-shirt and sweatpants, Dean stifled a laugh.
The shirt practically hung off his too-thin frame, and the sweatpants were all but falling off.
Cas looked morosely down at his too-big outfit and said, "I believe I shall need different clothes."
Dean smiled, saying, "Yeah, we'll take care of that," then added, more seriously, "But dude, you need to eat more. One PB&J per week ain't gonna cut it. I don't think I like the anorexia look."
Cas sighed and seemed to even roll his eyes a bit at Dean's choice of words, but did not comment otherwise.
They sat in relative silence until Sam's hesitant voice could be heard tentatively calling through the bunker, "Dean? Cas?"
Cas gave Dean a look that plainly said please don't bring him into this, and god, his puppy dog eyes could rival Sam's at their best, but Dean knew he couldn't put his family back together again unless what affected one was shared by all of them, so he firmly shook his head.
"Cas, we can't help you unless we ALL know what's going on. And I mean ALL. You're here now Cas, you're family. And I'll be darned if I let you fall."
"I have already fallen, Dean," Cas answered, "How is it possible to fall further?"
And the look on his face, the utter brokenness in his voice. Dean silently cursed himself for his choice of words and lack of tact.
Dean sighed. "We're in Cas' room, Sam. Come on up with the supplies," he called down wearily.
A few tense moments of silence later, Sam appeared at the door of the room, supplies in hand and a worried look on his face.
He looked from Cas to Dean and back again, observing Cas' wet hair and changed clothes, and Dean's worried but stern expression.
"Whenever you want to fill me in, feel free," Sam prodded.
Dean pointedly looked at Cas, and Cas pointedly looked down at the floor.
Sam sighed exasperatedly.
"You know, sometimes I wonder who's more stubborn between the two of you."
Dean took a deep breath before mumbling, "You might as well show him sooner rather than later, Cas."
Cas reluctantly began stripping his shirt off, trying to hide his grimace at the pain.
When his back was showing and Sam saw the wounds, all he could say was, "Oh."
Then he began to take control of the situation.
"Dean, get some cotton balls from the first aid kit. It's infected, so we'll need to clean it out first with peroxide then disinfect the infected areas with alcohol, see if we can get the inflammation down. Then it's just hope there are no complications, though with an infection like that, I'd be surprised if there aren't," he ended grimly.
While Dean was rummaging in the closet, Sam had a chance to really examine the wounds.
The infection looked a few days old at the very least, perhaps more.
Dried blood and half crusted over scabs covered the majority of the wound, like it hadn't been cleaned or looked at in a while.
Sam internally grimaced.
The guy was lucky not to be delirious by this time, and Sam wasn't sure if that was going to be avoided in the near future.
And when Cas actually got some sleep, who knew what the nightmares would do to him; not to mention his wounds.
Sam's heart went out to the new human before him.
Dean came back shortly with the cotton balls and a few towels for good measure, and Sam turned to Cas.
"Okay, lie on your stomach and try to relax if you can. It's gonna sting a bit."
Sam began to pour the hydrogen peroxide, first over one wound, then the next.
Cas tried to suppress the moans fighting to escape from his mouth, but he gave a few small, pitiful whimpers that broke Sam's heart and caused Dean to have to turn away for a moment to hide his emotion.
Sam cut off the flow and turned to Dean.
"Dean, can you gently clean around the wound with towels?"
Dean hesitantly kneeled down next to a whimpering Cas.
"I know it hurts, buddy, just hang in there with me," Dean said, beginning to gently wipe away the dried blood.
Sam began to put alcohol on the cotton balls and handed them to Dean in an attempt to clear away the infection.
As soon as the cool alcohol hit Cas' skin, he moaned deeply.
Dean hid a grimace of sympathy.
"Welcome to humanity," Dean said.
Cas remained silent, concentrating on regulating his breathing.
After a few moments, Dean sat back on his heels.
"Now I think we just have to bandage it, what you think Sammy?"
Sam nodded, handing over some gauze and a roll of bandages.
"Cas, can you sit up?" Dean asked slightly worriedly.
"'Course," Cas mumbled, but didn't moved.
"Cas?" Dean tried again.
A pause, then, "Hurts," Cas mumbled defeatedly.
Dean sighed.
He looked at Cas' back, helpless.
"Sammy, support his shoulders while I turn him over so he doesn't hurt his back more."
As Sam moved into position, Dean added, "Dang it, Cas, what the heck were you thinking when you let it get this bad?"
Cas just glared.
"Okay, on three," Dean said, "One, two, three."
Dean gingerly put his arms under Cas and flipped him onto his back while Sam made sure his wounds didn't touch any part of the bed.
Still, Cas was breathing heavily and looked pale from exertion by the time he was sitting up.
"Okay, okay," Dean muttered. "Let's get this done."
He had Sam hold the gauze on while he wrapped the bandages around Cas' chest.
Once that was done, he looked at Cas.
"I'll let you sleep now. But if you need anything, you know-" he finished, looking down embarrassed.
Cas nodded, putting Dean's shirt back on and lying on his side.
"Night Cas," Sam said quietly as they went out of the room, turning the lights off and closing the door once more on the newest edition to their (broken) family.
AN: Okay, hope you liked it! Sorry if Sam's a little out of character, or any of the rest of them for that matter, I have limited knowledge! Also the medical stuff... you know. I'm not a doctor. You use peroxide to clean normal wounds, and also alcohol to clean wounds out. There's not much they could do with Cas without a doctor also; I tried looking up how to clean infected wounds but it pretty much just said you need to see a doctor. Very helpful. Suppose they just don't want everyone in the world to be trying to treat their own wounds when it needs other treatment. Good for people, not good for FanFiction writers. Yeah, hope you enjoyed, please leave a review! Constructive criticism is welcome though if you want to bash my story um I'm not sure what to say because I didn't think it was that bad but I suppose... Yeah. Bye!