Chapter 2: Cause No Harm
By the time they reached the bunker, Sam had managed to get himself together and fall back into his normal knowledgeably helpful mode and had manoeuvred the angel into a proper recovery position at the same time as keeping the airways open. He instructed Dean on how to carry Castiel into their home without causing any further harm and despite a couple of dizzy spells when he had to stop and rub his eyes till he could see and read the labels clearly, he promptly appeared with what he estimated to be a proper dose of analgesics for a powerful, yet weakened being like the angel could be. His wobble and holding onto the doorframe earned a "go to bed Sammy, I've got him" from Dean, still Sam could barely hear him. Concentrating on his task, he automatically worked together with his brother to remove Castiel's top garments and once finding skin, he injected the angel with the solution he'd previously prepared. "This should hopefully keep him comfortable for at least four hours," he gulped, even his out-of-focus eyes allowing him to be startled at the realisation of how injured Castiel was. "I don't think there's anything else we can do for him Dean."
"I know," his brother sighed, instinctively grabbing hold of one of Castiel's hands and took it into his own, "I'm still going to clean him up and wrap him in some bandages. At least it will help keep his..well, it will keep everything where it should be."
"He will get better Dean, he will heal," Sam gave his brother's shoulder a heartening squeeze, or maybe he was just holding on so he doesn't fall over.
Dean looked up at him as if suddenly remembering Sam wasn't well either. "I've got this Sammy. Have some rest."
Sam nodded, making a conscious effort to regain his equilibrium so he could to make it to his room, "wake me up if he needs another dose or there's something else I could help with."
The older hunter let the offer slide, he would maybe take up on it if it was an emergency, but he will cross that bridge when it comes to it, there were other problems he had to deal with first. Deciding he couldn't shift Castiel much without the danger of harming him even more unless he taped a protective bandage over his abdomen at first, he carefully applied several layers of gauze, his eyes glancing up at the angel's face with every one of the moves he was making, checking he didn't cause additional discomfort for his unconscious patient. He knew it didn't matter if he cleaned the blood up, Castiel could restore his cleanliness the same time as he restored his clothes, but the feeling of helplessness in how to aid his friend caused him to act upon his instincts and get a bowl of pleasantly warm water and a towel to wash Castiel's chest and sides. From when he had been sick, there were some signs of blood on his chin and neck, so Dean started there, then ran the folded up towel round both shoulders. He gently slid the fists open, washed the palms, the hands, then the arms and beneath them.
Castiel's trousers seemed saturated with blood, yet Dean still hesitated to remove them, then without looking he decided to quickly slide them off and cover the exposed privates with the corner of a blanket. He wasn't going to touch those, but he could wash the legs and around the covered area. The hunter glanced up at Castiel's face for a different reason this time, but he saw no sign that the angel was aware of his surroundings or what Dean was doing. Neither of them needed to be embarrassed when his hand slid over the line of dark hair, but Dean still gulped, finding himself having to repress some inappropriate inklings of desire. It was just flesh reacting to flesh, he reminded himself. With a shy blush, he moved on towards the wounded area, his hand even gentler now, like a stroke you'd give a kitten.
Castiel emitted a painful moan when Dean tried to clean his bellybutton and the hunter held back till the angel's breathing became steady again. "I'm sorry Cas," he whispered, admitting to himself the washing was mostly for his benefit to convince himself he was doing something useful for Cas. Resigned, and a little angry with himself, he discarded the bloodied towel and covered the angel up with a warm blanket instead. The conditions for rest and the healing process were in place, but Dean didn't have the heart in him to leave his incapacitated friend to it. Again, more for his benefit than Castiel's, the hunter needed to know, make sure that everything was moving in the right direction. He would be angry with his angel once he was in a better shape, but at that moment, nobody could drag him away from the bedside where he intently watched every expression and shade of pallor change on Castiel's face.
Tbc