AN: Hey everyone, so I hope there is still interest in this story, I'm going to bump it up a notch and hopefully put some new kind of omph in this story
Enjoy the fight scenes peoples!
Also, Dean might be a tad bitter.
Also want to thank the lovely readers who took the time to review. You all really make my day and I wouldn't continue writing this if it wasn't for your support. Honestly, I've had a bit of a writing block that I just recently got over. THANK YOU
Disclaimer: Not my thing. And not getting paid for the thing that is not mine.
The demons spilled through the door, the commotion from the group outside drawing them out. Dean immediately going this belt were the gun had been stashed, his hand still half bandaged.
"Dean!" Sam yelled, turning Dean's attention to the possessed woman that was headed straight for him. The cut must have been deeper than Dean had thought,his hand shaking a bit as he put a bullet deep in the skull of the demon in front of him.
It had been awhile since Dean felt the heat rushing through his veins, the heat of battle and the metallic scent of blood wafting around him as Sam was making short work of the two attacking him.
All Dean could hear was the pounding of the blood in his ears, as a handful of demons raced through the open door to assist their fallen brethren.
"Sam! We need to close the door!" Shouted Dean, realizing too late that he was nearly out of ammunition.
Sam nodded, and with a quick look to his older brother they surged forward, Sam swiping as he went and blood rained around him the demons fell under his trained hand.
Dean ducked and swayed, attempting to save his dwindling bullets for when he needed them.
Dean grabbed the steel handle of the old hotel door and pushed it shut, gasping as the horde of possessed bastards raged against it.
The door slammed shut as Sam rammed the long demon blade into the skull of the doors only remaining obstacle.
The knocks, growls and banging from the other side warned the two that the demons were not going to give up so easy.
"Why the hell did he drop us here? Its like a fucking nest!" Dean fumed, fumbling in his pockets only to find them empty of any other provisions or ammunition.
"Cas what the fuck was that?" Sam cried, his knuckles white from his tense grip on the demon blade.
Cas shook his head, his eyes wide and confused.
"I honestly do not know. I am as bewildered as you two," Cas replied honestly. He was glad only in the loose pajama pants that Dean had bought him the first week had lived in the bunker, and Dean noticed the black undershirt immediately as his own.
"Yea I'll bet," he heard Sam mutter.
"Listen, we need to clear these things out and get the fuck home, alright?" Dean reasoned, "I hardly have any ammo left and there could be dozens left in there."
He looked at Cas uneasily; they hadn't spoken since the night before and seeing the other man was unnerving and ruining his perfect plan of stoic indifference.
"Cas, can you use your mojo and blast those fuckers?"
Castiel didn't look at him in the eye, but nodded slowly. "I believe so, Gabriel had given me another wave of his grace only a few hours ago."
That stopped Dean, "He juiced you up and I wasn't there? You saw what happened last ti-" he stopped himself, closing his eyes and holding up a hand. "Never mind, just get your ass in there and fix this so I can go home."
"Dean I-"
"Shut it feathers," Dean stopped, paling a little. "I mean Cas..." he stammered again.
Castiel narrowed his eyes and in an instant he was gone, the rush of wings the only sound to his disappearance.
Dean looked back at the hotel, shielding his eyes as light leaked through the windows and the cracks of the door. The screams and pounding fists of the trapped demons could be heard outside.
And just like that, it was done. The smell of burnt flesh and the sound of wings as Castiel made himself known only a few feet away from the brothers.
"Well, I gotta say I miss that," Sam whispered, looking at Dean carefully as he surveyed the juiced up ex angel in front of him.
A slow clap emanated from behind them, causing the three to whip around to see Gabriel, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.
"You son of a bitch!" Cried Sam, lifting the knife up a bit though he knew it would do nothing to the archangel.
"Oh Sammy save me the dramatics. I had to take ole' Cassie boy for a trial run, see if the mojo was taking," Gabriel explained, pointing to the seraph behind them.
"This was a test?" Dean yelled angrily, stepping closer to the shorter man aggressively. "We could have been killed!"
Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically, "But you weren't, so stop with the belly aching." With a snap of his fingers they were back to the safety of the bunker. "Phew what a day, you have no idea what I had to do to round up those slimy bastards."
"You drew, nearly 40 demons just to test a theory?" Sam fumed, slamming the knife onto the table and cracking his knuckles.
"42 to be exact, and yea I did," Gabriel announced, completely unconcerned.
Thats when Dean noticed Cas- he was slumped a bit, a tired look on his face and his shoulders were twitching every few minutes.
"Cas, you ok?" Sam beat him to it, and good thing too because Dean really wanted to go back to ignoring the man.
"I am...drained. I need to rest," was all Cas would say on the matter, but Dean could tell that there was more. He knew Cas intimately enough to notice the way he was slouching was more than exhaustion, that the dark look in his eyes conveyed more than what he was letting on.
"Yea you go do that," snapped Dean, ignoring the way Cas looked at him, slamming the gun on the table.
In typical Cas fashion, he tilted his head, his eyes scanning Dean's body, causing Dean to scoot away from his view.
"You're injured," Cas stated, his eyes immediately dropping to his hand.
"I'm fine," snapped Dean, holding his hand to his chest protectively.
"I can heal you now," Reminded Cas, his face full of hope as the realization had suddenly hit him.
"Yea I'd like to keep my eyes thanks," Dean retorted harshly, regretting his words immediately as he saw Cas draw back.
"Dean!" Snapped Sam, disapproval etched over his face.
"Its alright Sam," whispered Cas, obviously hurt by the older Winchester's harsh words. His face was dark when he made his way to Dean, who had clenched his jaw and stood his ground. "Do not let your anger for me put yourself in danger."
And with that, he unwound Dean's hand from his chest, gently but his gaze never left Dean's face and he knew that he was making a stand. And if Dean wanted to make it an argument it would be one he would surely lose.
He could feel Sam's eyes on them as Cas pulled the hurriedly patched hand as he gently unwrapped the blood soaked gauze.
Dean hissed as the bandaged pulled at the jagged edges of the open wound, the kick from his gun during the shoot out causing the cut to bleed and become sore.
"Cas don't," Dean pleaded softly, his previous words echoing in his head, but in reality he didn't want to cause Castiel anymore pain or possibly drain the juiced up angel.
"Be quiet Dean," Castiel growled, leaving no room for debate as he softly brushed his fingertips against the cut. It was strangely intimate, Dean feeling heat pooling in his body as Cas's eyes still stayed on him. Dean felt his mouth open unbidened, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He swore he saw Castiel's lips pulled a bit, an almost smirk.
"Let me concentrate," he commanded, and Dean swore his voice was deeper, rougher than he was before.
Sam stepped a little closer to the pair cautiously, "Cas, are you sure-"
"Sam, I need to focus," Castiel snapped, his voice charged and left no room for disobedience.
Dean had almost forgot that there was someone else in the room, Castiel was taking all his attention.
Brushing his fingers again over the cut, Dean watched in rapture as Cas's eyes started to glow ethereally, his focus entirely on Dean. And thats when he felt it, nothing like before,when Cas was at full strength. Then it just felt like a twinge, a rush of power and heat all going to one central location.
It was slower, like a trickle of warmth spreading down his veins and ebbing with each heart beat. Dean kept his eyes closed tight, trying to focus on the tingling that ran down to his injured palm.
Cas was still, completely focused on the task at hand; he felt an overwhelming pull to move closer to the other man, he felt himself inching forward, their faces only a few inches apart.
He stared in wonder at his palm, and the slight tickle he normally felt was amplified to a dull itching, pull as he watched his skin slowly serge together as Castiel's healing powers took control.
Shuddering, Dean let out a shaky breath as Cas looked into his eyes, obviously concerned.
"Dean, are you alright?" Cas asked, his fingers dancing over the now unmarred skin.
"Yea, yea I'm good Cas,' Dean breathed, feeling a bit light headed. The after shocks of the healing giving him a fuzzy feeling, like his skin was crawling.
"You may need to sit down," Cas suggested, leading him to the already pulled out chair next to the table.
"Did it work?" Sam asked, peering at Dean's now smooth hand in excitement.
"Go job kiddo, knew you had it in you," Gabriel exclaimed, popping out from the kitchen, guzzling a soda that Dean was pretty sure had not been in the Bunker in the first place. "You're almost ready."
"Almost ready for what?" Dean asked, clenching and unclenching his healed hand.
Gabe looked at him with a smile, "To face Metatron of course."
SPNSPNSPNSPN
Cas stumbled into his room, his wings were weighing him down and causing his balance to falter. Without being at his full strength, with his own grace, they were too heavy for his mortal body. The amount of strength he had exerted healing Dean was substantial, even on such a minuscule as a gash had sapped him dry. He was lucky to stumble away from the group without drawing attention to his condition.
He sat heavy onto his bed, a low moan escaping his mouth as he settled and the weight on his legs dissipated to a dull ache.
Cas looked down as his fingertips, they were still tingling slightly from the energy that had passed through them only minutes before. He stretched them, peering at the digits thoughtfully.
He could feel the constant ebb and flow of the borrowed grace flittering around vess- his body. Cas closed his eyes, rolling his shoulders and feeling the mending wings shift around him.
As his closed eyes brought him to thoughts he would rather not deal with at that time; the way Dean had pulled away from him before he healed him, the way his wrist had trembled when he had held it in his grasp, the look he had given him as Cas had mended the gash.
Slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt, his fingers still fumbling over the small plastic buttons as he allowed his back to relax in the privacy of his own room. He knew that his wings were still rancid, the feathers still holding on desperately to the bare bones that once housed magnificent plumage. Cas looked around the room silently, the bare walls and painfully empty four corners were a stark contrast to the room that he and Dean had shared. The small pile of clothing was the only sign that someone resided in the the area at all. Some of Dean's old worn shirts that he had let him borrow, two pairs of jeans that Dean had surprised him with, when he had realized the jeans we had been borrowing were much too large and barely held up even with the sturdiest of belts.
Castiel felt lonelier than he had in months; even with the reemergence of this grace, he felt like he was slowly losing everything over again. Everything he had worked so hard for, a place to stay, simple things like clothing and a toothbrush. And not so simple things, like Dean Winchester.
He had his back turned to the door, so he didn't hear it open, he didn't see Dean standing there or the sad way he looked at him.
And he didn't notice when Dean turned, and walked out.
AN: UP NEXT (Chapter already partially written) wings and soul bonding. Because really, can there ever be enough of that?!