Chapter Text
Suddenly, they are in the bunker’s bathroom. Dean doesn’t know how he could drive back to the bunker in that short period of time. He doesn’t even remember the drive back. He only remembers driving faster than in his whole life, never stopping to look at Cas on the rearview mirror, seeing him lying on the backseat, with his back bleeding and unconscious. He remembers Sam yelling something, but Dean isn’t sure what his little brother was yelling. The only thing Dean cared about in that moment was to bring Cas back to the bunker and heal him.
Dean remembers parking his Impala in the bunker’s garage, opening the backseat’s door and grabbing Cas, carrying him towards the bathroom in his arms and walking as fast as Dean could, without caring about Cas’ weight or about the blood that was staining him; nothing of that mattered at all. What truly mattered was that Dean needed to heal his best friend as soon as possible.
The water is dyed in red, Cas’ blood. His back is still bleeding and Dean doesn’t know if it will stop. He feels his eyes watering because he can’t see Cas like this, he can’t think about Cas dying. No, he can’t die right now, not after everything. They managed to defeat Darkness a month ago, and with that, the gates of Hell were finally completely closed. Now the gates of Heaven have been closed too, and with that, Castiel’s back started to bleed as he started to scream in pain. It scared the shit out of Dean to hear Cas in such pain and being unable to do anything.
It just happened suddenly; they just finished a hunt and Castiel passed out and he started to yell in pain. When Sam and Dean reached him and touched his back, their hands were soaked with his blood, and so was Castiel’s trench coat.
And now, they are in the bathroom. Cas is still unconscious and bleeding, inside the bath, where the clear water has turned into red. And Dean cleans the never stopping bleeding wounds on Castiel’s back.
Dean’s hands keep trembling. This is too much blood and Cas looks paler the more minutes that pass. He is freaking terrified of losing Cas. Dean knew that angels were going to close the gates of Heaven for a period of time, to rest after the hard and bloody battle against the Darkness. Cas told him about the angels’ plan, but he didn’t know how that action was going to affect Cas, and he wasn’t expecting it to affect him like this. He was scared of Cas leaving him behind, ending up trapped in Heaven, because Dean has never wanted Cas to leave him, and much less to leave forever and stay with those douchebags. But he wasn’t expecting to have Cas in the bath, bleeding like this, dying the water with that scary shade of red. He would rather lose Cas to Heaven and know that he is alive, than let Cas die like this.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dean mutters in between broken sobs. He throws what it is like the tenth gauze soaked with Castiel’s blood, not caring where it ends or if it is going to stain the damn floor. The wound is still bleeding and it doesn’t matter what Dean does, it keeps bleeding. He needs to sew it, but every time he tries it, the wound opens up again, spilling more blood.
“Here,” Sam says offering him another gauze. Dean looks at him. He doesn’t know when Sam showed up in the bathroom. Dean nods and picks up the gauze, cleaning that terrible wound. “Do you need anything else?” His voice is heartbreaking and shaking. Dean makes a grimace. He can’t even talk; there’s a limp in his throat and his tongue feels too heavy and useless. He looks at the wound, wishing that it could simply stop for once. Cas is losing too much blood, and that isn’t good. “Dean?”
“Just—” Dean starts to say. He sounds desperate and he is it. His eyes go to that angel face of Cas, looking paler and sadder with every second that passes. “Bandages.” He manages to say in a breathy and heartbreaking voice.
Sam leaves the bathroom, or it sounds like it. Dean doesn’t look; his eyes are only focused on Cas and on that fucking wound. He keeps cleaning it, blood soaking the gauze again. And Dean wants to cry. A few tears fall down from his tired and swollen eyes, leaving a trace on his not so young face. He is too tired and he feels so useless. He wants Cas to be alright, to be okay, but this looks further than okay than anything.
“Cas—” Dean starts to say. It sounds like a prayer, like begging. If he has to beg in order to get Cas well, he will do it. He will give his life for Cas. Anything. “Please, Cas—”
“Dean—” Castiel whispers extremely low, but Dean can hear it perfectly. He moves his eyes from the bleeding back to Castiel’s face. His eyebrows are making a frown and his eyes are half closed, but those baby blues meet Dean’s eyes, showing the pain Castiel feels. It breaks Dean’s heart into million pieces. “Dean—” he repeats, this time a little bit louder, but not too much.
“Hey, hey,” he says with a sad smile of relief. One of his hands goes to cup Castiel’s face, feeling the coldness of his face. “I’m here, Cas. I’m here.”
“My wings, Dean.” A tear falls from Castiel’s eye, ending on Dean’s fingers. The feeling is cold, really cold. “They are gone.” He cries out. “It hurts.”
Dean’s thumb caresses Castiel’s cheek. “I know.” His voice breaks with that. He can’t imagine how painful it must be for Castiel to lose his wings. It must feel as if they were ripped apart. “I’m gonna take care of you, Cas. And you are gonna get better, okay?” He needs Cas to get better. Castiel opens his eyes as much as he can, showing his glassy eyes, filled with pain. He gives Dean a weak smile. “Don’t you dare to die on me, not after everything we’ve been through.” Words come out desperate and easily, sounding really heartbreaking. He needs Cas to know that he has to fight. Cas can get through this, he can. He always makes it back to Dean. He can do it one more time, right?
Castiel simply nods and closes his eyes. Dean looks at him, praying in his mind for Castiel to get better, hoping that he will keep on fighting. He has fallen, his grace is turning into a human soul, turning him into a human being, burning and ripping out his wings, but Dean still doesn’t know how. But right now it isn’t important; answers will come later, what it is now more important than anything it is to heal Castiel.
He starts to sew the wound, as careful as possible, although his trembling hands don’t help, but he tries to keep his pulse as firm as possible. Sam appears again, with bandages and more thread, helping Dean to clean the wound as Dean sews. It takes its time to sew the wound; it goes from the upper side of Castiel’s blades to the small of his back. Two long wounds where his wings used to be, corrupting the angelic picture of Castiel, showing his pain in a grotesque way.
Once Cas is sewed, Dean gets him out of the bath and dries him. Cas is unconscious again and Dean hates it. And he hates seeing how terrible his back looks. It is going to hurt him forever, Dean knows it. The fallen angel finally managed to have his grace back, to get rid of all that pain, and then, one year later, he falls again, becoming human, pain overtaking him, losing everything. Dean can’t stand it.
Dean puts bandages on Castiel, covering his back and his chest, leaving them tight enough, but not too tight so it can’t hurt him. Cas looks so defeated, so weak, so lifeless that it breaks Dean’s heart; he feels so helpless. He would give everything just to avoid Cas being like this, feeling this pain.
With Sam’s help, they carry Cas to his bedroom, the one next to Dean’s, and they get him in bed, lying him aside, in order to not leave all Castiel’s weight resting on his injured back, because it would hurt him a lot, even if he is unconscious and right now he might not be feeling a thing, but still, they do it like that.
Dean looks at Castiel, who has a painful, sad face. At least now he isn’t as pale as before, but he still is it. Dean lets out a breathy gasp and he walks towards the bed to cover Cas; he can’t get cold. His fingers move away a lock of dark hair from his forehead, as sweet and as gentle as possible. It doesn’t take Dean too long to start crying again, this time with uncontrollable sobs. He wants to stop, but he can’t. He feels Sam’s arm embracing his shoulders and pulling him closer, to give him comfort, and although Dean appreciates his little brother’s gesture, right now, the only thing that can comfort him is Cas waking up and without those terrible wounds on his back.
He doesn’t know how he ends up in his bedroom or how he manages to sleep for a couple of hours. He guesses that he must be really tired, not only physically, but also mentally. But that couple of hours are more than enough, and when Dean wakes up, the first thing he does is to go to Castiel’s bedroom. Dean watches Castiel from the door; nothing has changed from when he got to bed; Cas is still unconscious and with that painful and sad face. The bandages are still covering his back and his chest, showing the humanity of Cas. Again, Dean feels how his heart breaks into million pieces.
And it goes like that for three days. Castiel doesn’t wake up. He is alive, Dean looks for his pulse all the time, making sure that his best friend isn’t gone, but Castiel is still unconscious and he hasn’t moved or said anything since he was gotten into that bed. He hasn’t even opened his eyes yet for a single time, and it is killing Dean.
Dean spends whole days in Cas’ bedroom, sitting on a chair, next to his bed, with one of Castiel’s hands in between his, holding it. He only leaves that bedroom to go to the bathroom. He doesn’t even sleep in his own bedroom, he falls asleep in that chair, not caring about how his whole body hurts and misses a proper bed. He is hoping that Cas will wake him up to let him know that he is awake and getting better, but that never happens. And Dean is starting to fear that it will never happen. Waiting is the worst. What if Cas never wakes up again? No. Dean can’t think about that. He would rather tear his own skin apart than get used to the idea of Cas dying.
Their hands are laced together, Dean holding Castiel’s tightly, with his lips pressed on Castiel’s knuckles. Dean has his eyes closed, like Castiel. He can’t look at Cas in this condition; it hurts too much. Holding his hand makes the ache of Dean’s heart to fade away a little, but Cas’ hand is still cold and still.
“Still nothing?” Sam asks. Dean opens his eyes and he sees that Sam is standing next to him. He checks Cas dozens of times during the day, hoping that the time he arrives, Cas might have woken up, but of course, it never happens.
“No.” Dean shakes his head and looks at Cas again. “He should have woken up a while ago.” With his other hand, Dean caresses Castiel’s cheek. He doesn’t care that Sam sees how intimate he is being with Cas, he knows that Sam knows about his feelings for Cas, even if Dean has never told Sam about it, but he knows that Sam suspects, if he doesn’t already know for sure about Dean’s feelings for Cas.
But Cas doesn’t deserve someone like Dean. And it is never the right place or the right moment for the two of them. Dean isn’t sure if it will ever be. He isn’t good enough for Cas. He even beat the shit out of him when he had the Mark; he hurt him and Dean hasn’t forgiven himself for that even if Cas told him that he forgave him. But now Cas is like this, and Dean just wants to hold him, wishing that with those touches, it will encourage Cas to get better and to wake up, hoping that the hands that broke that angelic face a year ago can now heal him. He is being stupid, but he wants to believe.
“Dean, he has fallen, his wings have been ripped out of him,” Sam starts to say with a touched voice. He isn’t dealing too well to see Cas like this either. For all Dean knows, Sam has spent some nights awake, doing research about fallen angels with any single file he has found in the bunker, but the men of letters never knew what happened after the angel fell. There was too much pain, but they didn’t know how long it took them to wake up again. “It is something really painful. It is going to take him quite long to get well. As far as I’ve read, the process of his grace becoming a human soul is painful and exhausting.”
“I know but—” He takes a deep breath and presses Castiel’s knuckles on his forehead. “He has to wake up.”
“He will.” With that, Dean looks at his brother, who has an honest tiny smile drawn on his lips. “He will make it.” And he places his hand on Dean’s shoulder to give him a comforting squeeze. “He always does, doesn’t he?”
Dean wants to believe that. Cas has always been a tough guy, he has gotten out from worse shit, but it is hard to believe Sam’s words when Cas is so lifeless in that bed. He tightens his grip on Castiel’s hand and looks at the fallen angel, searching for a hint, a change on his face that could indicate that he is going to wake up, but there’s nothing.
Sam leaves the bedroom, leaving Dean and Castiel there. Dean keeps looking at Castiel, until his eyelids feel so heavy that he has to close them, falling asleep, never letting Castiel’s hand to go from his.
When Dean opens his eyes is past midnight, by the time the clock on the bedside table marks. Dean now only sleeps when his eyelids can’t stay opened anymore. He doesn’t care; he will care about getting his sleeping habits back when Castiel wakes up, which is something that it is going to take its time.
He takes a deep breath and looks at Cas before he closes his eyes again and presses his lips on Castiel’s knuckles. Dean could say a lot of things right now, to confess a lot of things he has locked in his heart, but his voice doesn’t work. It must be because if he ever decides to say all those things, he wants Cas to be awake, not like this. Dean has never been good with words, but it he ever manages to say out loud everything he has had locked in his heart for a long time, he wants Cas to hear them.
“Dean?”
Dean opens his eyes in shock, looking immediately at Castiel, whose eyes are opened. “Cas,” Dean simply says, not fully believing what he is seeing. His other hand goes directly to cup Castiel’s face, feeling that it is warmer than those previous days, making sure that Cas is awake and alive. He lets out a relieved breath that he had been holding for too long. “You are awake.” He smiles in relief.
“I am awake,” Castiel says, voice weak but soft, a tender smile appearing on his pretty pink lips. His hand holds tighter Dean’s, making Dean’s heart skip a beat as those fingers tangle with his.
“How are you feeling?” he asks with a trembling voice that he can’t control. Dean is more than glad that Cas is finally awake, but he knows that despite of that, Cas is still in pain.
“Painfully human.” Castiel takes a deep breath and looks away from Dean’s eyes, as if he was ashamed. “It still hurts.” His voice is pull of painful emotion.
“I know, Cas, I know.” His thumb moves soothingly on Castiel’s cheek, making the ex-angel make a sweet but painful smile. “Everything is gonna be okay.”
Castiel’s glassy eyes meet Dean’s. Castiel doesn’t fully believe that everything is going to be okay, Dean can see it in those eyes. Castiel has become human so many times, but somehow, he managed to become an angel again. But this time, they know that isn’t going to happen. The gates of Heaven have been closed and Castiel’s wings have been ripped out; there’s no possible way to become an angel again.
The face Castiel makes is full of pain, sadness and devastation. He closes his eyes, letting a few tears out. He suppresses a sob, but he does a bad attempt at that. “Hey,” Dean starts to say, hoping that he doesn’t sound as hurt as he feels, he needs to show Cas that everything is okay and that they will make it over this. “It’s gonna be okay, Cas. Me and Sammy will take care of you, you are gonna live here with us in the bunker and things will get better, I promise.”
But Castiel doesn’t open his eyes, instead, he presses his eyelids harder, which Dean suspects it must be because he doesn’t want to let out more tears. Dean sighs and squeezes Castiel’s hand, hoping that it will calm him.
“You’ve been human before, remember? You did a great job when I kicked you out because of Gadreel.” Dean still feels pain when he remembers that. The face that Castiel made when Dean told him that he couldn’t stay; it broke both of their hearts. Dean has always wanted Cas to be in the bunker with him, and when he finally got that, it only lasted five minutes. It breaks his heart to think about all the times he has hurt Castiel. “You will do great, Cas,” Dean keeps whispering. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Finally Castiel opens his eyes, and Dean hates what he sees because everything in them is pain. “How can you be so sure?” The question comes out in a heartbreaking and breathy voice.
“Because I know you. And because we will make it work. Like always.”
They don’t say anything else. They fall into a soft silence. Dean’s and Castiel’s eyes let out some tears and they hold their intertwined hands tighter. No one of them mentions how their fingers are tangled together or how Dean’s hand is still cupping Castiel’s face or how their eyes are locked together. They never address any of that. Cas is awake and that’s all that matters.