Supernatural 1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

"You're a virgin Cas?!" Dean asked with just the slightest hint of teasing. Castiel blushed furiously, not wanting to meet Dean's gaze. He looked at the ground and out the window in an attempt to avoid answering Dean's question.

"So you are?" Dean asked again, with slightly more mockery in his tone. Unable to avoid answering the question anymore, Cas answered.

"Y-yes I am," Castiel said quietly. He blushed some more and looked at his foot. He dragged it across the floor, scuffing the toe of the shoe in the process. He stared at the toe of his shoe with false fascination.

Dean let out a quiet, throaty 'Huh.' He clapped his angel on the shoulder, making the angel jump.

"Well Cas, I know how you're spending your last night on Earth!" Dean exclaimed, all mockery gone. Truth be told, he was scared to think about Cas dying. He would never admit it, but he actually kind of loved the guy. Not love, love! Just, brotherly love… Or maybe something more…

Before Dean could sink any deeper into those thoughts, he heard Castiel ask him something. He shook his head, as if clearing the fuzz from his brain. "What?" he asked.

"I said: 'What do you propose I do?'" Cas said rather loudly, and Dean detected a little bit of impatience in his tone as well. Dean held out his hand to Cas-

"Trust me," he murmured, offering a soft smile to the angel. _His_ angel, Dean reminded himself. Cas took it slowly and warily, eyeing Dean's hand. His eyes slowly made their way up to Dean's green eyes, as if they were drinking in the sight of the eldest Winchester boy.

Cas would never admit it, but he _felt_ for Dean. He _felt_ responsibility for him. He _felt_ affection for him. What he didn't feel was worthy. Dean had never rebelled against his father; he had obediently followed every order like a good son. Cas had rebelled against his father, God, and had started to doubt his father. Castiel did not, in fact, feel worthy of Dean Winchester.

Dean seemed to be unable to break the eye contact between them. The intensity of the angel's eyes was unnerving yet fascinating at the same time. The blue of Cas' eyes were dark, with what Dean did not know.

But he hoped to God it wasn't lust.

Cas and Dean stumbled out of the strip club, Dean guffawing like a buffoon. Cas wanted to ask what was so funny about him being yelled at, but let it be. He hadn't seen Dean this happy since… since he'd met him. He actually laughed with Dean for a few seconds before they reached Dean's 'Baby,' as he liked to call the vehicle.

"Thanks Cas," Dean said. His eyes were serious, but he was still somewhat smiling. Castiel wanted to ask what for-after all they were just kicked out of a strip club because of him-but remembering the sheer joy Dean was radiating, he refrained.

"You're welcome, Dean." Castiel responded. He smiled as well. His eyes, bright blue now, met Dean's. He ran his hand through his hair awkwardly, and looked away. He tried to hide his now red cheeks.

Dean smiled wider, and blushed as well. He had had a few drinks, so he thought maybe the alcohol had tampered with his brain. It was just the alcohol telling him he wanted Cas, _needed_Cas, right? _Right_?

Dean opened his car door and got in, he stuck the keys in the ignition and turned on the car. Castiel got in the passenger side and closed the door. Dean groaned.

"Cas, your seatbelt," Dean said in his gruff voice. As he was saying that he was buckling his own. Cas grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it across himself and pushed it into the latch. The shoulder strap was behind his head so Dean leaned over to fix it.

Castiel could barely smell the alcohol on Dean's breath, but it was there. He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in Dean's scent. It was a mix between alcohol (at the moment at least), and pine. At least it was for Cas. When he opened his eyes, Dean was inches from his face.

Dean's eyes bore into Cas, and Cas thought he saw Dean lick his lips after a quick glance at his mouth. Cas looked over Dean's head, and Dean hurriedly pulled away. He grabbed the steering wheel and pushed down on the gas. He veered out of the parking lot and onto an almost empty street.

Cas had watched Dean the whole car ride, admiring his profile. He traced his eyes down Dean's nose and to his lips. Cas' gaze lingered a little longer than necessary at Dean's lips before he looked away.

Dean stopped the car and put it in park. He pulled the keys out and opened his door. He stopped to look at Cas, who was struggling to unbuckle his seatbelt, before he got out and shut his door. He was halfway to the front door before he heard Cas close the passenger side door.

Cas walked, almost running, to catch up with Dean. He supposed he could have teleported, but that would've been a waste of energy.

Dean opened the door and walked inside quietly, listening for anyone who may have wandered inside, waiting to ambush them. Cas followed in, right on Dean's heels.

They checked all the rooms on the main floor together before heading down in the basement. They each had grabbed a pistol and double-barrel shotgun loaded with rock salt.

After a quick check of the basement (all they had found were rats and mice), they headed upstairs. They walked on the edges of the stairs to avoid any creaks, and checked the rooms.

They split up the four rooms amongst each other; Dean would get the bathroom and smaller bedroom, and Castiel would get the office and master bedroom.

Cas walked into the office, holding the gun out in front of him. Truth was, he wasn't fond of these human weapons. He'd much rather use his angel sword, but the gun made it so you didn't have to get real close. That was a benefit of course.

Castiel checked the closet in the office and came to the conclusion there was no one in there. At least no one he, an angel, could sense or see. Castiel walked down the hall to the master bedroom.

Dean stalked quietly into the smaller bedroom. He checked under the bed and in the closet. Zip. Zero. Nada. Goose egg. Nothing.

He absent-mindedly fingered his amulet that Sammy had given him so many years ago. He missed his brother, but respected his decision to stop hunting for the time being. Dean strongly doubted Sam could stay away longer than a week or two.

Dean tiptoed past the office where Cas was just passing over the threshold to check the master bedroom. Dean stepped into the bathroom and quickly pulled back the shower curtain to reveal… nothing. He checked the cabinets under the sink for good measure as well. He was closing the cabinets when he heard a muffled _slice _and a strangled cry he recognized as Cas' come from the master bedroom.

"Cas?" Dean shouted worriedly. He quickly turned the safety off his gun and ran to the master bedroom. What he saw made his gut clench and the bile rise in his throat.

Castiel was lying on the floor, but it did not look like Castiel. It looked like a bloody mess hardly discernable as a body. But Dean knew it was his angel. There were so many cuts and gashes all over Cas' body. It should've been impossible to do that much damage in such a small time frame.

However, for the _thing_ standing over Castiel, it was not impossible to inflict this much damage in only a matter of seconds. It was Raphael, an Archangel; brother of Michael, Gabriel, and Lucifer. In his hand was an Archangel Blade, a much more powerful version of an angel sword. He was leaning over Castiel when Dean had come into the room. _Son of a bitch knew about the plan,_ Dean thought.

Raphael smiled a sadistic smile at Dean and vanished, leaving a bloody and broken Castiel on the floor. Dean dropped to his knees and hugged Castiel's body to himself. He used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the blood from Cas' face. Dean checked Cas' pulse and found a slow, but steady, rhythm.

Dean hoisted Cas into his arms and carefully set him on the bed. He took the wounded angel's shoes, trench coat, tie, and suit jacket off. He kicked his own shoes and jacket off as well.

Dean pulled back the covers and slipped Cas under them before climbing under the covers himself. He pulled Cas to himself and cried himself to sleep, all the while murmuring sweet nothings into Castiel's ears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

When Dean awoke, he had hoped everything had been a drunken nightmare. So when he opened his eyes, he was greeted with an unpleasant surprise.

Cas was lying beside Dean on the bed, facing him. Cas' eyes were closed, and his wounds were still slowly oozing blood. That was a good sign. That meant he was still alive and had survived the night. Dean needed to go downstairs to retrieve his bag with the first-aid supplies, but he didn't want to leave the bloodied and battered angel alone.

But the angel's health did matter more than leaving him alone. Dean doubted Raphael would return, he had made his point.

So with a final, tortured glance, Dean walked shakily downstairs to retrieve his cell phone and duffel bag full of a hunter's necessities.

Dean was torturing himself with thoughts of self-loathing. _He_ should've been the one to check the master bedroom. _He_ should've been the one to have been sliced and diced by an Archangel's blade. _He _should be the half-alive one right now, not Castiel.

Dean trudged up the stairs with these thoughts swirling through his head. He supposed Raphael would have found Castiel anyway. Raphael seemed to know Dean would have taken it much harder than Cas would have. Dean wondered why the Archangel hadn't just killed Cas, and then realized Cas probably would've just come back anyways. Just like he had once before.

And besides, seeing Cas in pain just makes the self-inflicted punishment worse. At least if Castiel was dead he wouldn't feel any pain. Dean pushed away all these thoughts and focused on helping Cas, as by now he had reached the angel on his mind.

Dean unzipped the duffel bag and pawed through it until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out the wrap and smaller bandages. Dean was about to put the bandages on Cas when he realized he should probably wash all the wounds.

Now of course Dean knew that meant undressing Cas, but considering the circumstances Dean was okay with that. He grabbed Castiel from behind his knees and around his shoulders and carried him to the bathroom that way. In the bathroom, Dean started the delicate process of unclothing Cas.

Dean peeled the white undershirt off, resisting the urge to vomit as the blood made a horrible squelching sound as he was pulling Cas' shirt off.

Next, Dean pulled Cas' socks off. At least his feet weren't bloody at all. Neither were his legs, Dean discovered, as he slid Castiel's pants off his slim legs.

So now Dean had to pull Cas' boxers off. That was the awkward part that Dean was afraid to do. To distract from that, Dean turned on the tub and let it fill with water. He used his hand to make sure it wasn't too hot or too cold. His priority was his angel, his Cas. _His._

When the tub was full, Dean turned back to Cas. He took a deep breath and quickly pulled down Cas' boxers. Dean didn't mean to look, but his eyes just kind of strayed there themselves.

What Dean saw actually surprised him, considering that Castiel was still a virgin and all. That angel-in-a-man's-body was actually pretty well hung. Dean mentally slapped himself for thinking about Cas like that. Cas was his friend, not someone to be sexually lusted after.

Dean quickly lifted Cas into the tub. He propped Castiel up so his head was above water, but his chest was still submerged.

Dean left Cas to go grab his phone to call Bobby with. On his way back to the bathroom, he grabbed a rag and towel out of a linen closet. He set the towel on the counter and wet the rag in the water.

Dean began the slow, gentle task of cleansing Cas' wounds. He swirled the rag around the wounds delicately, careful as to not aggravate the open wounds. The blood and dirt was starting to come off his body, and it made the tub a sickly mixture of black and red. Dean pulled the plug and decided to use the detachable showerhead instead.

He aimed the showerhead at Castiel's chest to rinse the blood and grime off of it. The blood and dirt ran down his torso and legs into the tub. Then Dean took the rag and administered the gentle swirly motions to the cuts on Cas' back.

Some wounds were deep, and Dean stayed away from those with the rag. He used the showerhead to rinse those ones.

With the shallow cuts Dean used the rag to wipe the blood off of. The cuts on his face were pretty shallow. The deepest cut, right above his left eyebrow, wasn't too deep that he couldn't bring a rag to it.

After the shower/bath, Dean had wrapped Cas in a towel and brought him back to the bed. He had lain Cas back down and covered him back up. Now to call Bobby…

Dean held down the number three, Bobby's speed dial. Sam's was two, but Dean didn't want to have Sam come back to him so soon. It was killing him to be so far from Sammy, but he understood why Sam wanted, and needed, a break.

"Hello Bobby? This is Dean listen-" Dean said as soon as Bobby picked up. Bobby cut him off.

"Ya idjit boy, what mess have ya gotten yourself into now?" Bobby interrupted. Dean sighed and pinched his nose between his right index finger and thumb.

"Bobby, I need help… Cas, he's hurt real bad. I don't know what to do. I-he needs help. Please Bobby…." Dean trailed off. He didn't want to beg but he needed Bobby's help badly. Especially right now that Castiel's life was on the line.

"Okay boy, where are you?" Bobby asked. He had heard Dean's tone and decided that this was a serious matter.

After receiving their location, Bobby hung up and got in his car to head to them. He would be there tomorrow, tonight maybe if they were lucky.

Dean set his phone down on the dresser and went over to the bed. He kneeled beside Cas and did something he'd never done before: prayed.

He prayed for Cas to be all right, and he prayed for Bobby to get here soon. Dean prayed for Sammy, and for his mother and father, whichever place they were in. He prayed for forgiveness. He also prayed that if they made it through this, Cas would stay with him and Sammy. He felt especially protective of his angel now and didn't want him to wander away where he might get hurt. Especially now that Heaven was on his ass.

Dean ended his prayer and got up. He looked at Cas and leaned forward. It was just a light brush on his lips, but he still pulled away with crimson cheeks. He opened his eyes and looked at Cas' closed ones. He never knew how much he depended on those blue eyes. Dean sighed and sat on the edge of the bed beside Castiel. He fiddled with the blanket before deciding he needed food.

He go up to go rummage through his bag where he kept extra power bars if he needed any. And he needed one now, for sure. He found one and pulled off the wrapper. He threw the wrapper on the floor and stepped on it, like a smoker would the butt of a cigarette.

He ate the power bar whilst leaning against the dresser. All the while he was watching Cas sleep, maybe in a coma, he didn't know. He just hoped Cas wasn't feeling any pain right now.

Dean remembered Castiel had had a gun with him when he came in here, so he set about to searching for that. He found it pushed halfway under the bed, opposite the side Cas was currently sleeping on. He pulled the gun out and checked the safety. The safety was still on.

Dean sighed and mentally punished himself again. He should've given Cas gun lessons. He should have known the _ex_-angel of Heaven wouldn't know how to operate a gun.

_But the past is the past,_ Dean thought. Rather humorously he added, _Hakuna Matata_. He smiled at that and turned again to the angel.

Dean carried the gun to the duffel bag and put it in there. He pulled out the salt in exchange. As he was salting the doors and windows, he let his mind wander. Not very far, but far enough to get to the interesting thoughts…

He wondered what Cas would be like in bed, and bashed himself mentallyfor probably the tenth time today. He also wondered if all angels were hung like that. _Oh I think I need to be cleansed by the Lord,_ Dean thought to himself. He smiled at that and finished salting everything. He added a Devil's Trap at the door under a rug for good measure.

With that all done, there was nothing to do but wait for Bobby to arrive. So Dean sat on the edge of the bed, looking longingly and hopefully at Cas.

The longing was for a stronger friendship, or maybe it was for love…

But the hope was definitely for the fact that Cas pulls through. Dean wasn't too worried though, he knew Cas would at least fight it to the very end.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Dean woke from his nap when he heard the loud crunch of gravel under tires outside. He pulled back the curtains just enough to peek through. It was Bobby.

Dean rushed downstairs, being mindful of the salt at the doorway.

"Bobby," Dean exclaimed breathlessly. Bobby had just walked inside. He looked at Dean and saw his expression. It was serious; a serious Bobby had hoped to never see again on Dean's face after Sam's.

"Where is he?" Bobby asked Dean. Dean pointed up the stairs. When Bobby nodded in acknowledgement, Dean started up the stairs. Bobby followed quickly, sensing the urgency of the situation.

When Bobby crossed the threshold of the master bedroom, he froze. Cas had been cleansed of the excess blood, but the wounds themselves were still there. _Dean wasn't lying when he said Cas had been hurt badly, _thought Bobby.

Bobby brought his bag over to the angel's side of the bed. He did the routine things: check the pulse, temperature, and bandage up the wounds. The bandaging took a while because of the amount of areas to apply it to, but he got it done with Dean's help.

Bobby was surprised with Dean's need to help, but didn't question it. It took maybe fifteen minutes with their combined efforts to cover Castiel's wounds.

Now all Bobby would have to do is confirm whether he was unconscious or comatose…

After performing the appropriate tests, Bobby determined Cas was not comatose. Just unconscious. He suggested they not wake him up until he's ready, though.

"Do you think you can stay, and keep checking up on him?" Dean asked in a small voice. It was so unlike him to ask for help, but Bobby understood. Some part of Bobby recognized the fact that Dean blamed himself for this.

"I'll stay," Bobby grunted. Dean let out the breath he had been holding in and returned to his vigil at Cas' bedside.

"Dean, it's not your fault you know," Bobby said softly to Dean. Dean nodded and looked up at him.

"I know…" Dean admitted. _But I still feel responsible,_ he added in his head. Bobby clapped Dean on the shoulder, took one last glance at Cas, and walked out of the room.

Once Bobby was out of sight, Dean grabbed Cas' hand. He gripped it tight and kissed the back of it gently.  
He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Castiel's eyes flutter open for just a second before closing again.

"Ouch," Dean muttered. His left shoulder was burning fiercely. He pulled up his shirtsleeve and saw the handprint Cas had left imprinted on him. The imprint was a bright red, and was slightly raised. Dean rubbed it with his right knuckle, and hissed softly in pain.

He looked over at Cas, and saw the angel's right hand was red as well. Dean reached his hand over, wincing when he stretched the skin on his left shoulder, and touched Castiel's right hand. Dean pulled back his own hand; Castiel's hand was as hot as his shoulder!

He got up and walked to the bathroom. He found a paper cup under the sink and filled it with cold water. He poured it on his shoulder and gasped. That did _not_ help at all. He clasped his hand over his shoulder and stumbled out of the bathroom and back into the master bedroom.

He sat down on the bed beside Cas and had an idea.

Bobby opened the trunk of his car and pulled out two bags. One had spare salt and spray paint for demons. It also contained one shotgun, four rounds of rock salt, and an iron crowbar.

The other bag contained his clothes. He had assumed he would need to stay with Dean for a couple days while Cas recovered.

He put one bag on each shoulder and trudged inside. He saw one particularly large piece of gravel and kicked it into the grass.

He walked up the stairs and opened the front door. He stepped inside and set down his bags. He saw Dean's bag in the living room and went to grab it so he could bring it up to him. By the weight of it, he guessed it was probably clothes inside the bag.

Bobby began to ascend the stairs.

Dean wasn't so sure about his 'idea' but he thought it was a good theory. He used his right hand to grab Cas' right wrist. He leaned in so he wouldn't have to tug at Castiel's shoulder. He extended Cas' right arm and pulled it to his left shoulder.

He looked in the mirror across from the bed and used it to line up Cas' hand with the handprint on his shoulder. When it was lined up, Dean took a deep breath and pushed Cas' hand to his shoulder.

Bobby was just reaching the top of the stairs when he saw a ray of white light shoot down the hallway. He dropped the bags and rain into the hallway. He looked and saw it was coming from the master bedroom, where Dean and Castiel were.

"Dean?" Bobby shouted above a high-pitched noise. It slowly got louder as Bobby progressed down the hall.

He covered his ears and sank to his knees. He groaned and flopped to his side.

"Dean?" he called out weakly. He curled into the fetal position and balled his hands into fists over his ears.

As soon as Dean had touched Cas' hand to his shoulder, a ray of bright, white light had erupted from the spot where Castiel's hand and Dean's shoulder touched.

Dean dimly heard a high-pitched noise, but it wasn't deafening to him. The white wasn't blinding either, even when it filled the entire room.

All he could see was Cas. His angel. _His._


End file.

Supernatural, Angst, Romance