I've been to the edge
And I've thrown the bouquet
Of flowers left over the grave
I sat in the waiting room
Wasting my time
And waiting for judgement day.
"21st Century Breakdown" by Green Day
There was a war in his mind. The ground seemed to shift there, glass shards embedding somewhere on his skin and bones, cold pooling somewhere inside of him. A piece of metal lodged into his shoulder, cutting the sinews and slicing the muscles.
Castiel's mouth filled with blood. For a moment, he could not see. For a moment, he lost the war.
And then the door smashed open, Balthazar dragged the gun to face the intruder, and Dean Winchester stood with his own gun poised to shoot. His green eyes slid over the scene. When they attached themselves to Castiel, they twitched out of proportion.
"Cass!" He shouted, but Castiel could barely hear the sound. His ears were ringing. Clenching a fist over his shoulder, he could feel the warm slide of blood through his fingers, and his breath was momentarily taken away. Balthazar. Balthazar had shot him. But he was alive.
"Dean, get out of here," he coughed out, his voice rough and low. "It's a trap! Run!"
Balthazar swung his arm around, his face twisted in a sadistic grin, but Castiel dropped just fast enough for the punch to miss, rolling on the floor, already feeling the bullet wound knitting back together. The bullet was still in his arm, but he would have to worry about that later. He had to get Dean out of here, away from Balthazar.
With one quick motion, Castiel kicked out at Balthazar's feet from his position on the ash-coated carpet. The satisfying crunch of bone echoed into the room, and Balthazar let out a cry of pain as he, too, fell to the floor. His blond head hit the ground with a snap, and he lay there, unmoving.
Dean was rushing forward, the safety on his gun forgotten, his finger curling around the trigger.
"Dammit, Dean!" Castiel shouted, struggling to his feet. He dared not spare a glance at the unconscious Balthazar (what had he done?). "You have to leave. Now. You and Sam are in grave danger."
Dean's face went stony in an instant.
"Get out of the way, Cass. I'm gonna shoot this bastard's face off," he growled. His eyes were unfocused, steely and cold and wholly terrifying.
"No. Dean, it isn't his fault, he was–" Castiel faltered slightly. He clenched his arm again as it pricked up. He'd have to remove that bullet eventually. "He was manipulated, like me. Heaven runs biological experiments. He's part of it and," He paused to suck in a deep, anxious breath. Dean's gun still did not waver. "And so am I, Dean."
"What the fuck are you talking about, Cass?"
"The healing! Anna coming after us! It's all because of me, okay?" Castiel was getting tired of this conversation. His heart was beating rapidly, his head still spinning. His mouth still tasted vaguely of death, and it irked him. "We have to go. Now. Before Balthazar awakes."
Dean was shaking his head. He gritted his teeth, ground a palm into his eye socket. He looked, to Castiel, as if he hadn't slept in days.
"So you're an X-Man, that it? Well that's just dandy, Cass, but it doesn't have anything to do with me, so pardon me while I gank your douchebag of an ex." Dean moved to shove Castiel away, but he stood his ground, the nails of his fingers digging into his palms in frustration.
"Dean," he nearly whispered. "Please. Just go."
Green eyes met blue. The gun twitched. Slowly, reluctantly, Dean lowered it, face softening. He reached out a single hand as if to touch Castiel's cheek, but seemed to decide against it last minute. He let the hand fall to his side.
"Yeah. Okay. I trust you Cass," he grunted, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "Just promise me you'll explain in the car, got it?"
Castiel smiled softly.
"Yes, Dean. Of course." He reached out to take Dean's hand. "Anything."
Behind him, Balthazar stirred. Dean shot a disgusted glance at the blond man on the floor, a single eyebrow raised. He run a thumb over Castiel's outstretched hand.
"Okay, let's hit the road." He turned to face the door, hiding his red-cheeked smile as he held his (boyfriend's?) hand. "I get to pick the music though."
Castiel's hand was suddenly wrenched from his.
...
"Cass? What's the matter?" Dean turned to face Cass questioningly. Maybe the other man was having second thoughts, he mused apprehensively.
But when he was fully turned around, his heart dropped with a crash into his stomach.
Balthazar had Cass by the arm. The discarded gun was pressed dangerously close to Castiel's temple, and a stream of thick, soupy blood leaked from Balthazar's own head. He wore an expression of utter hatred.
"Winchesters," he hissed, through missing teeth. "I fucking hate Winchesters."
Dean reached towards his own gun with the speed of a well-trained soldier, his father's endless lessons scrolling through his head. Be fast, be sure. But Cass's eyes were trained on him. Don't stop for anyone, not even me or Sammy, just shoot.
His finger's barely brushed the grip before Balthazar snarled again.
"Don't you dare," he shouted. "I swear to God I will shoot Cassy's brains out."
Dean froze. He could almost hear his father telling him off. You're a failure, Dean. You won't save anyone. You won't even save yourself.
"Dean, just shoot him! He's not going to kill me!" Cass growled. Balthazar tightened his grip on his arm, making Castiel flinch, biting his tongue.
"Shut up," he flicked his eyes over to Dean again. "You tell me where your brother is. Now."
Dean hesitated.
"Sam–" he breathed, confusion rushing rushing through his brain. "Why–?"
Balthazar let out a twisted, wild sound, halfway between frustration and bloodlust. He rolled his eyes.
"Bloody hell, you are an idiot," he shouted. "Because you're both dead men walking. Because your daddy made my daddy very angry. Because I fucking told you to!"
"No," Dean breathed. "Go to Hell."
There was a snap, and Castiel let out a gasp as Balthazar broke his arm with a single hard wrench. Dean's heart kicked up a notch, hand on his gun once more.
"I'm getting tired of this, Winchester," Balthazar moaned. "Just tell me where your bratty little brother is, and Cassy won't end up stitching together his entire body."
"Stay away from them!" Dean shouted, just as Castiel's arm crawled back into a normal position with a disgusting crunch. "You wanna kill me, then kill me, but don't you dare lay a finger on Sammy, or I will destroy you!"
There was a tepid silence. Cass' eyes dug into Dean's, but he forced himself to look away.
And the Balthazar laughed. It was an amused laugh, a completely and utterly blissful one.
"Oh, this is just perfect," he giggled. "Dean's in love with a freak, and his poor little brother has to pay the consequences!" He grinned widely, an all-too perfect smile. "It's your lover or your brother, Winchester. Better choose fast!"
...
Castiel knew he had to act fast. Balthazar was holding him tightly, too tightly, and if he twisted his other arm around, he could just reach his ex-boyfriend's gun hand. He bit the inside of his cheek, praying for Dean to remain silent. I just need one more minute. One more minute.
He knew things Dean didn't know. He knew that John Winchester's first born son had been too old for whatever testing went on behind closed doors, but his youngest hadn't.
He knew that Sam Winchester was just like him. A failed experiment. Except that John didn't want his son to become the mindless drone Heaven wanted, so he took him and ran. Just like Castiel's brothers had done for him.
"Come on, Deanie boy," Balthazar taunted. "Is it gonna be Castiel or Sam? One or the other, and honestly, I'd prefer if you didn't kill Cassy. I'm rather fond of him, see."
"It's not happening, you son of a bitch," Dean snapped. "I've got four hunters behind me. They're on their way. Gonna be here in fifteen, and if you don't drop that peashooter, they're gonna blow you're skull open with something a lot bigger."
"So, you choose Cass? Shame. I guess I'll have to find little Sammy by myself."
The sound that came from Dean nearly tore Castiel's heart out. It was cold and desperate and red with fear.
"No!" he shouted. "Don't you dare–"
Castiel knew it was time to move.
"Dean, look away!" He shouted.
He reached his free hand up to grab Balthazar's gun, surprise rendering the blonde agent nearly frozen. Castiel easily dragged the barrel down to his own chest, pressing it into the skin there.
There was only one way out.
He wrapped his finger around Balthazar's and pulled the trigger.
...
Dean watched Cass shoot himself. He knew the bullet would go through Cass' torso, and into Balthazar's heart. He knew it was a perfect shot. Balthazar would be dead before he hit the ground.
But so would Cass, and Dean felt suddenly sick.
Without a word, he stumbled forward, feeling strangely as if he were running in molasses. His feet wouldn't go fast enough. His legs were slow and uncooperative. Before him, Cass collapsed.
A single strangled cry escaped his lips, and Dean Winchester crashed to the floor besides the two dead men, dragging Cass away from Balthazar (who's face was still frozen in shock) and into his suddenly stiff arms.
"Jesus–no! Cass! Cass!"
He let out a sob. Dean Winchester didn't sob. Saving face can save your ass, boy, John Winchester had once said, over the splayed body of a dead vampire. Emotions hinder the hunt.
Castiel's eyes were still open, the dark blue flat and empty. Dean was drowning in them.
"You're gonna be okay, buddy, just hold on," he muttered, fiercely, as he pulled Cass further and further away from the scene. The carpet was grainy and soiled under his knees, but he didn't care. "You're fine."
Cass still didn't move.
Never get your hopes up, Dean. The world'll just find a way to screw with them, in the end.
Dean pressed his lips into Castiel's. He kissed him, long and desperate, his breath catching irritatingly in his chest.
"Wake up wake up wake up–"
There's no such thing as miracles. God just doesn't give a damn.
"I'm here, Cass. We gotta go. We gotta go find Sammy."
His hand curled over the tiny, leaking hole in Castiel's dress shirt, the backwards blue tie soaking through with blood.
He leaned in again, for one more desperate, fruitless kiss. His eyes were flushed with dry tears. His head was pounding.
It took him all of two seconds to realize that Castiel was suddenly kissing back.
...