Sam sighed, grabbing the last of the medical bags out of the newly stolen minivan. He slammed the door shut, turning and heading back towards the disheveled cabin they were about to hole up in. He was dragging his heels, he knew it, but he needed a second to collect himself before forging inside.

It had been a long journey from the hospital to there. The cabin was one of Bobby's old places. A safe house for hunters (he had a few across the country). It was only a couple hours from the hospital, but the awkward transfer from ambulance to van, and then the trip there, had taken a lot out of all of them. Dean had yet to wake up, and Sam was starting to get just a bit nervous.

Steeling himself he walked up the couple steps, heading through the main room of the cabin and into it's only bedroom. There his brother lay, pale and motionless beside the former angel. Castiel has his fingers around the hunter's wrist, keeping his pulse at Sam's request. Sam cleared his throat, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Still the same?"

Cas nodded. "His pulse remains elevated but steady. His breathing is still shallow and his skin has not regained any warmth."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he's in shock." Sam set down the canvas bag next to the bed. "This was a lot for him being just out of surgery." He unzipped the bag and tossed Cas a too-large hoodie, which the former angel gratefully pulled on. Sam set to work exposing the bandages across Dean's chest and let out a quiet curse, seeing the bloom of red across the stark white surface. He grabbed a pair of trauma shears stolen from the ambulance, opting to cut away the gauze rather than unwind it.

"How can I help?"

Sam looked at the sutures, feeling a little overwhelmed at the scale of the wounds, just how long the incisions were. The stitches were torn in a couple places, bleeding sluggishly from the seams, and in one place he could see a glint of metal from the plates that were presumably screwed directly into the rib itself.

"Sam?"

"What? Oh…" Sam coughed, giving a nod. "Uh, here, if I shift him up a bit, I can work." He positioned his brother, arm over his head. "Then if you can just sort of hold his arm up, I can fix these stitches."

Cas nodded, wrapping his good hand around the hunter's forearm, holding it steady.

Sam cleaned the wound out as best he could before replacing the missing and torn sutures. Once satisfied with his work he re-wrapped it, settling Dean's arm back down. He pulled a pillow down to keep Dean propped up on his right side, facing the angel again, keeping his weight off his destroyed ribs. A quick check of his head and leg showed nothing that Sam thought was concerning. Instead he left the room for a moment, returning with a pile of rough blankets, pulling them over his brother. He reached into the bag, pulling out a bottle of Vicodin, handing it to Cas with a water bottle. "Here, you should take one of these."

"Thanks."

Sam nodded, turning to focus on getting an IV set up for Dean, hoping the fluids, antibiotics, and morphine would help improve his condition. After a moment of hesitation he pulled out an oxygen canister they boosted from the ambulance, setting it up and looping the tube under his brother's nose. He didn't know if it was necessary, but he figured it couldn't hurt. When he looked over Dean, he felt like he looked just a little less ashen, and he hoped it was enough. "He seems stable."

Cas nodded, readjusting himself slightly to put a little less weight on his fractured ribs.

"How are you holding up. Your injuries okay?"

The former angel gave a weak smile. "Yeah. Pretty good all things considered."

"Do you think you'd be okay watching Dean for a while longer? I have some things I need to get, and I have to ditch this minivan somewhere. Not to mention make sure the Impala starts it's way back to Kansas." Sam knew if he stopped moving now, it would be hell to start again.

"Yeah, I'm fine Sam." Cas assured him. "Go. I'll call if anything seems wrong."

Sam hesitated, looking over Dean again. "You're sure?"

"Yes."

"I'll be back as soon as I can." The younger hunter stood up, heading towards the door. He paused one last time in the doorway before he closed it behind him. Seconds later Cas heard the outer door of the cabin close.

He was almost drifting off to a light sleep when he heard the light groan from the unconscious hunter beside him. He shifted, looking down just in time to see Dean's eyes open and then scrunch shut. "Hey-" Cas breathed.

"Hey." came the gruff reply. Dean forced his eyes open again, blinking a few times and looking around him. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"A safe house of Bobby's." Cas supplied.

"Right." Dean hissed as he took too deep a breath, resulting in a coughing fit that had tears running down his eyes by the time it was done. His head was swimming, the pain and the drugs combining to all but knock him out. He didn't really process what Cas had said.

Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, trying to help him remain steady until the fit had passed.

Dean leaned his head back weakly. He felt so groggy, it was a chore making his thoughts focus on anything. He already had forgotten how they got there, if he ever knew. He felt like he was dreaming… or maybe just still asleep. "Cas?" He mumbled, voice rougher than before, and just a little slurred still.

"I'm here."

"Why's it so cold?"

Cas sighed. "You're still in shock. Sam says it will pass."

"'M too cold." Dean weakly tried to pull the blankets closer to himself, but he was already bundled and his arms wouldn't cooperate. "Cas?"

"Yes Dean?" Cas waited to hear what the older hunter would ask him, but the silence stretched on. He was starting to feel like Dean had fallen back unconscious. "Dean?"

"It's too cold." Maybe not unconscious yet, but it certainly seemed like he was about to be.

Cas felt entirely inadequate at the moment. Dean was already under every blanket in the cabin, and Sam had started a fire in the fireplace that was doing it's best to warm the space. "I don't know how to help, Dean." He apologized. "I can't do anything."

" 'M too cold." He muttered again, his eyes slipping shut.

Cas hesitated, considering his next move carefully. Slowly he shifted down slightly, slipping himself next to the older Winchester, pressing against him beneath the pile of blankets. He hesitated, looking at Dean to see if the hunter would object in his half-awake state. He froze as Dean moved but relaxed tentatively as Dean seemed to react to the warmth by leaning into it, settling fully against and slightly on top of Cas.

Dean lost his fight with consciousness almost immediately after, and Cas stayed put, hoping that his body heat would help in some small way, that he could make a difference at all. He was pinned now, his good arm under the hunter, but he didn't mind. With his newly horizontal position, he knew he was soon to lose his own fight with consciousness.

.

He wasn't sure how long it was before something woke him, and he blearily opened his eyes, trying to gauge what time it was by the stretch of shadows from the window light. It didn't work. He paused as he realized what woke him was Dean stirring. "Dean?" He asked softly.

The movement stilled, and he felt the figure leaning against his side tense in response. "Cas?" His voice was still rough and quiet, but it seemed a lot more oriented than before. Dean looked up, realizing he was basically in Cas' arms. "Whats going on?" He asked slowly, trying to recall basically anything that happened after the hospital.

"What do you remember?"

Dean felt his cheeks growing red as he tried to piece together the puzzle. "We were heading for an ambulance." He tried to scoot away from Cas but his eyes clamped shut and he hissed as white hot pain spread over his ribs. He took a second, holding his breath and letting the stars clear from his vision. Too fast, that was too much movement, too fast. He resigned himself to staying in place for the moment, though he didn't let himself relax back in place.

"Sam got us to a safe house of Bobby's." Cas repeated his earlier explanation.

"Right…" Dean said, this time actually processing what was said. "And we're snuggled up because…?"

"You were in shock, and your body temperature was too low. The blankets were inadequate for warming you." He hesitated. "I hope I have not done anything wrong." He offered, knowing how valuable personal space was to the hunter.

"No… it's… it's okay." Dean's mind was catching up to this new information. His brain looped back and forth before he finally resigned and allowed himself to relax again, letting his weight gently settle back in place against Cas. "Um… are you okay?"

"My injuries are on the other side. This causes me no physical distress."

"Good." Dean replied, slightly too quickly. They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, and Dean felt completely out of his element. "Yeah, not just this, I mean, how are you… holding up?"

Cas seemed to consider this for a moment. "The day's events were… tiring." He said at last. "Sam and I were quite concerned when you did not wake after we left the hospital. Sam fixed the surgical stitching and set up an IV. It seemed to help."

Dean tensed again. "Where is Sam now?"

"Attending to a few matters outside of the cabin. Gathering supplies and seeing to the Impala."

Dean relaxed once more. He took a moment to let his mind think past the normal barriers he put in place almost constantly. He felt… well, he felt like he was in a metric shit-ton of pain, but otherwise sort of… nice. That, he figured, was the morphine talking. Still… being here... he felt… warm was the word Dean allowed himself to think, but safe was the word that better described what he felt at the moment. He was surprised when the arm that was sort of resting behind his back tensed, holding him just a little bit tighter.

"I was worried about you."

Dean shifted again so he could look up at the former angel and froze, taken completely off guard by the tears reflected in Cas' blue eyes. He tried to dismiss it, blaming whatever pain meds Sam had Cas on.

Castiel kept his gaze on the opposite wall, not trusting himself to look back at Dean just yet, hoping to avoid losing the fight with crying completely. "I have spent much of the last few days concerned for your life and entirely unable to help in any way."

"Cas…"

"Dean, don't-" Cas' quiet voice broke, preventing him from dismissing Dean's concern. He took a sharp breath. "Sorry." His voice returned to it's deeper, more indifferent usual tone.

The hunter remained still, his mind turning wildly, yet producing no thoughts for him to hold onto. He felt dizzy from the drugs, and warm from the blankets, and more than a little freaked out by the conversation and closeness and whatever the hell else his brain was processing. He felt completely overwhelmed, and entirely caught off guard. "I'm fine…" He managed to reply, trying lamely to offer comfort for the angel's fear.

Castiel managed to win his fight against tears for the moment, blinking a few times, and sighing, still not trusting himself to look at Dean. "I can move, give you more space." He began to shift his weight, getting ready to slip from under the covers, and scoot at least across the bed and up against the headboard. He was surprised when Dean's hand reached up and landed on his shoulder. He finally looked down, making eye contact with the hunter.

"Don't." The simple request, though Dean looked unsure even as he said it.

Cas hesitated, but he settled tentatively back in place.

Dean didn't look any more confident than he felt, but after a moment, he too settled back in place, his head against the angel's shoulder. They didn't speak any more, instead laying in an increasingly comfortable silence until they both found rest again.