[ oh, dean. guilt rolls through him when smacks his leg, and he offers dean the hangdog look of any animal caught doing something it knows it shouldn't. ]
I'm sorry, Dean.
Let me help.
[ he reaches for the cast without thinking twice— and although he'd lingered with the intention of asking dean his permission, he heals him now before he's had the opportunity to give it. his weakening grace flows through him, pouring into dean's body, centered on his newly reconstructed bone.
castiel's face twists in concentration, sweat beading on his brow. the lights in the hallway give a brief flicker, and then it's done.
castiel sags in place, his breaths coming faster than usual. ]
[ Cas does not, in fact, wait - instead he’s reaching for Dean and letting the flow of grace shiver through, a feeling Dean knows he’ll never get used to. It’s cool, a wash of nirvana and storm clouds, lightning crashes and ozone all in a blink and he’s left reeling, clutching the blanket. ]
It’s - good. I feel good. Sit, Cas, cause you don’t look so good.
[ He pushes himself up and pats the bed, moving to the side to make space. ]
[ he might try to make some excuse to get out of his end of his bargain if he weren't so overwhelmed by dizziness. suddenly, he has to sit, and he comes down heavily on the edge of dean's hospital bed, ashen-faced in the pale light of morning. after a few moments breathing through it, he begins to recover— but there's a sick heat in his center, where the wrong grace has failed to take root.
[ He’s sitting up now, kicking himself free of the blankets and ignoring the very mortifying hospital gown he wears in favor of focusing his attention on his angel. ]
Cas, I told you not to heal me, take it, take what you need from me.
[ He’ll scold Cas properly later, for the moment he’s more worried about getting the Angel stable. ]
[ don't say things like that to him— castiel shoots dean a glance that's meant to be chastening, but hardly carries any heat at all. but dean has a point. he can hardly let himself keel over in the hospital. there would be questions, and dean would be liable to be blamed.
and, well. he did make a promise.
sagging again in resignation, he looks toward the door, reaching out with a hand to turn the lock shot with one of the last wisps of grace in his body. then he sighs, and turns toward dean, sitting so they're directly facing each other at an angle across the bed. he reaches out, halting, fingertips brushing dean's gown. ]
This is going to hurt.
[ it's the only warning dean is given before castiel begins— pushing his fingers not just through his body, but into the very core of his being. into his soul. ]
[ Dean knows it’s gonna hurt; he saw what happened when Cas shoved his hand in that kids body, and Bobby had told Dean years ago what it had been like when Cas recharged from his soul. It’s painful. Incredibly so.
But they’d made a deal and Cas looks ready to collapse. Even if hasn’t been a bargain, he would’ve offered himself on a silver nagger to Cas.
I love you, too.
His eyes close when Cas reaches out, jaw setting, clamping down to hold back the yell of pain when CAs’ hand goes deep, deep into his body, his bones, the very core of Dean Winchester himself. Teeth grit so hard it’s a wonder they don’t break, he forces himself to stay silent through it, enduring the pain but somehow savoring it, too. Cas is touching him in the most intimate place possible, the very fabric of his being, and no matter how much it hurts, there’s a certain pleasure to be derived as well. ]
[ his fingertips press into the barrier of dean's body and through, past the physical into the metaphysical. it's a delicate procedure. his fingers skim the surface of that radiant, ever-lasting light, power flowing through the conduit of his body and into the core of the flickering grace. it catches like a spark and alights into a roaring blaze— castiel gasps when it happens.
it isn't the first time he's had to do this. but it isn't like those times.
it isn't like when he touched dean's soul in hell.
they have a history now. things are different. it's hard to imagine that any experience could exceed that wild flight, but he may as well be wheeling through the heavens now. it can't last long, though. once he feels himself rejuvenated, he's easing out. gently leaving dean's body, mercifully, thankfully, unscathed. ]
[ His face is pink when Cas finally withdraws, and despite the blinding pain he’d been in, once it’s gone he feels almost empty, floating in space, lost without the feeling of completeness, without Cas being part of him.
He reaches out, wraps his fingers around Cas’ wrist, breathing rough. ]
[ dean is pink faced, castiel is too. pleasure fizzles through his body the after effect of the touch. embarrassingly, the effect is physical, too— which is a brand new side-effect that he tries not to think about. ]
Cause you're, you're the one who needed the recharge.
[ Duh. Dean's aching and glad he's covered with a hospital blanket, because his dick doesn't really seem to know what's going on right now and is responding inappropriately. ]
[ he can't deny that he needed it— and he feels much better now, too. his body is brimming with newfound energy, grace blazing white-hot inside him. it still isn't his grace, but he can make do until they find some alternative. (or it burns out, but that isn't something they're going to think about right now. it's not important, anyway.)
of course— try as he might, dean can't hide his reaction from castiel. he can hear the change in his heartbeat, the spike in his blood pressure— even the subtle scent of his hormones, and reflexively he looks down between dean's legs to check. it's just a glance, but dean's not an idiot. dean will see, and dean will know that he knows, and, well.
it's too late to take it back now.
castiel coughs and looks away. then his expression softens. ]
[ Dammit Cas, you don't look at a dudes crotch, it's just not done. He yanks the covers higher, scowling because it's weird, both the pointed look and his stupid body's reaction. ]
Good. I'll uh, I'll text Sam and me and you are gonna get the hell outta here. You got your car? [ Whatever he's using at present. ]
[ no, it isn't done. but he's doing it. he's looking. and sniffing the air a little bit, because, wow. dean is incredibly aroused, isn't he? that's odd.
but he nods— his car is waiting for them outside. sam, presumably, has the impala. ]
I can get us out of the building.
[ with his powers at full blast, that'll be a simple thing. he can just turn them both invisible. however— the moment he moves to get up from the bed, another wave of power jolts through him. an aftershock of soul energy, knocking something loose. he stumbles, looking rattled— not realizing that his broken wings have popped out behind him. at least, with most of the primaries burnt off, they're not as big as they once were, but they still take up most of the room.
[ He’s scowling deeply, ready to hide beneath the covers and die
there. Asshole angel. ] And we don’t gotta use your powers we can
sneak out, we just- holy shit!
[ Of all things, Cas’ actual, physical wings pop out and
they’re right in front of his face, broken and bent, wide and taking up the
entire damn room. ]
[ creeping. but then there's the whole problem of his wings, and, well. dean is exclaiming and he's tucking them in as close to his back as possible, which considerably lessens the space they take up, but still doesn't succeed in hiding them at all. several expressions struggle across his face, each increasingly distressed.
funnily enough, castiel's face is now also furiously red. ]
[ He doesn't know why Cas can't help it, only that it's
happening and it's the first time he's seen them like this, in physical
form, huge and broken, but somehow still beautiful. ]
[ he tucks his wings back in before moving to the closet to grab dean's things while dean calls his brother, and then it's just a matter of slipping out unnoticed. castiel follows dean's lead on that, and then once they've both safely made it to the parking lot, guides him to where he parked the continental.
it's a big car, with his wings manifested, he still can't sit in the front seat. he has a moment of waffling indecision before he turns and hands the keys to dean— remembering almost belatedly that he's fully healed and, as such, can drive perfectly fine. ]
[ Not the first time he's escaped a hospital, but it is the
first time he's had to do it with an angel whose wings are out on display
for God and everyone to see. They only run into one person and Dean
hurriedly explains it's cosplay from a book and it was done to cheer
someone up but now they have to go because visiting hours are over. Or
something. He hustles Cas along and they slip out through the back, Dean
following closely after until they get to Cas' crappy car. ]
Close call. [ He takes the keys and glances around nodding,
gesturing urgently. ]
Let's go. We'll figure something out on the way. Motel?
[ the entire time dean is explaining, castiel is trying his best to look natural, which means he ends up looking incredibly awkward instead, but it works out in the end because they escape with no one any the wiser. back in the car, however, his problem isn't anywhere close to being solved.
he's sitting rather miserably in the back seat, hunched over so his wings have room to fit beneath the roof of the car. ]
[ It's wild to look in the rearview and see an angel with wings
taking up the entire backseat. ]
Does it hurt?
[ He backs the car out, turns to get them the hell out of the
parking lot and towards the open road. No one is really gonna care too much
that Dean's vanished, except maybe the billing department. It's not like
they can hold someone against their will unless they're a danger to
themselves or society, and Dean keeps his ideation in check around doctors.
]
[ dean's also now fully healed from a shattered bone that should have taken months of recuperation— if it ever fully healed at all. they'd have a hard time proving it wasn't a case of mistaken identity if they ever caught up with him.
but they won't. ]
It doesn't hurt. But yes, it seems I can't put them away.
[ his only hypothesis is that the influx of power from touching dean's soul caused them to reflexively materialize, though it doesn't explain why it hasn't happened before now. perhaps it's because his grip on his powers isn't as absolute, with this borrowed grace?
either way, it's going to be a problem. he can't use dean's excuses for everything, and he obviously can't fly anymore ]
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I'm sorry, Dean.
Let me help.
[ he reaches for the cast without thinking twice— and although he'd lingered with the intention of asking dean his permission, he heals him now before he's had the opportunity to give it. his weakening grace flows through him, pouring into dean's body, centered on his newly reconstructed bone.
castiel's face twists in concentration, sweat beading on his brow. the lights in the hallway give a brief flicker, and then it's done.
castiel sags in place, his breaths coming faster than usual. ]
How— How do you feel?
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[ Cas does not, in fact, wait - instead he’s reaching for Dean and letting the flow of grace shiver through, a feeling Dean knows he’ll never get used to. It’s cool, a wash of nirvana and storm clouds, lightning crashes and ozone all in a blink and he’s left reeling, clutching the blanket. ]
It’s - good. I feel good. Sit, Cas, cause you don’t look so good.
[ He pushes himself up and pats the bed, moving to the side to make space. ]
Gotta hold up my end of the deal, Cmere.
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it's seeping away. he knows. he can feel it. ]
Dean...?
[ he hasn't actually forgotten. ]
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Cas, I told you not to heal me, take it, take what you need from me.
[ He’ll scold Cas properly later, for the moment he’s more worried about getting the Angel stable. ]
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and, well. he did make a promise.
sagging again in resignation, he looks toward the door, reaching out with a hand to turn the lock shot with one of the last wisps of grace in his body. then he sighs, and turns toward dean, sitting so they're directly facing each other at an angle across the bed. he reaches out, halting, fingertips brushing dean's gown. ]
This is going to hurt.
[ it's the only warning dean is given before castiel begins— pushing his fingers not just through his body, but into the very core of his being. into his soul. ]
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But they’d made a deal and Cas looks ready to collapse. Even if hasn’t been a bargain, he would’ve offered himself on a silver nagger to Cas.
I love you, too.
His eyes close when Cas reaches out, jaw setting, clamping down to hold back the yell of pain when CAs’ hand goes deep, deep into his body, his bones, the very core of Dean Winchester himself. Teeth grit so hard it’s a wonder they don’t break, he forces himself to stay silent through it, enduring the pain but somehow savoring it, too. Cas is touching him in the most intimate place possible, the very fabric of his being, and no matter how much it hurts, there’s a certain pleasure to be derived as well. ]
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it isn't the first time he's had to do this. but it isn't like those times.
it isn't like when he touched dean's soul in hell.
they have a history now. things are different. it's hard to imagine that any experience could exceed that wild flight, but he may as well be wheeling through the heavens now. it can't last long, though. once he feels himself rejuvenated, he's easing out. gently leaving dean's body, mercifully, thankfully, unscathed. ]
Dean.
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He reaches out, wraps his fingers around Cas’ wrist, breathing rough. ]
You - are you okay?
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[ dean is pink faced, castiel is too. pleasure fizzles through his body the after effect of the touch. embarrassingly, the effect is physical, too— which is a brand new side-effect that he tries not to think about. ]
I'm fine.
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[ Duh. Dean's aching and glad he's covered with a hospital blanket, because his dick doesn't really seem to know what's going on right now and is responding inappropriately. ]
Are you sure?
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of course— try as he might, dean can't hide his reaction from castiel. he can hear the change in his heartbeat, the spike in his blood pressure— even the subtle scent of his hormones, and reflexively he looks down between dean's legs to check. it's just a glance, but dean's not an idiot. dean will see, and dean will know that he knows, and, well.
it's too late to take it back now.
castiel coughs and looks away. then his expression softens. ]
Of course I'm sure. Thank you, Dean.
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Good. I'll uh, I'll text Sam and me and you are gonna get the hell outta here. You got your car? [ Whatever he's using at present. ]
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[ no, it isn't done. but he's doing it. he's looking. and sniffing the air a little bit, because, wow. dean is incredibly aroused, isn't he? that's odd.
but he nods— his car is waiting for them outside. sam, presumably, has the impala. ]
I can get us out of the building.
[ with his powers at full blast, that'll be a simple thing. he can just turn them both invisible. however— the moment he moves to get up from the bed, another wave of power jolts through him. an aftershock of soul energy, knocking something loose. he stumbles, looking rattled— not realizing that his broken wings have popped out behind him. at least, with most of the primaries burnt off, they're not as big as they once were, but they still take up most of the room.
which might be a problem. ]
Uh— Wha—?
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Quit creepin-!
[ He’s scowling deeply, ready to hide beneath the covers and die there. Asshole angel. ] And we don’t gotta use your powers we can sneak out, we just- holy shit!
[ Of all things, Cas’ actual, physical wings pop out and they’re right in front of his face, broken and bent, wide and taking up the entire damn room. ]
What the hell, man?!
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[ creeping. but then there's the whole problem of his wings, and, well. dean is exclaiming and he's tucking them in as close to his back as possible, which considerably lessens the space they take up, but still doesn't succeed in hiding them at all. several expressions struggle across his face, each increasingly distressed.
funnily enough, castiel's face is now also furiously red. ]
I— I can't help it!
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[ He doesn't know why Cas can't help it, only that it's happening and it's the first time he's seen them like this, in physical form, huge and broken, but somehow still beautiful. ]
...Whoa.
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Wh-what?
[ shouldn't they be leaving now? and not staring at his wings? ]
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[ HOW DO YOU LIKE IT, HUH ]
Your...your wings. I've never seen 'em. Not like this, all...real. Just shadows, before.
[ Pardon him, he's just a little... awed. ]
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still red-faced, castiel loosens his shoulders, letting his wings peek from behind his body. at the same time, he takes a step toward dean. ]
Maybe we should leave.
So you can get a closer look at them elsewhere.
[ so they aren't cut short. ]
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Yeah, I. They're really cool, man.
[ Broken or not, they're friggin' angel wings and he's just a puny little human, what does anyone expect from him? ]
Good idea - lets get the hell outta here. My clothes are in a bag in the closet, boots should be there too.
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it's a big car, with his wings manifested, he still can't sit in the front seat. he has a moment of waffling indecision before he turns and hands the keys to dean— remembering almost belatedly that he's fully healed and, as such, can drive perfectly fine. ]
I'll have to get in the back.
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[ Not the first time he's escaped a hospital, but it is the first time he's had to do it with an angel whose wings are out on display for God and everyone to see. They only run into one person and Dean hurriedly explains it's cosplay from a book and it was done to cheer someone up but now they have to go because visiting hours are over. Or something. He hustles Cas along and they slip out through the back, Dean following closely after until they get to Cas' crappy car. ]
Close call. [ He takes the keys and glances around nodding, gesturing urgently. ]
Let's go. We'll figure something out on the way. Motel?
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he's sitting rather miserably in the back seat, hunched over so his wings have room to fit beneath the roof of the car. ]
A motel would be fine.
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Are they stuck out like that?
[ It's wild to look in the rearview and see an angel with wings taking up the entire backseat. ]
Does it hurt?
[ He backs the car out, turns to get them the hell out of the parking lot and towards the open road. No one is really gonna care too much that Dean's vanished, except maybe the billing department. It's not like they can hold someone against their will unless they're a danger to themselves or society, and Dean keeps his ideation in check around doctors. ]
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but they won't. ]
It doesn't hurt. But yes, it seems I can't put them away.
[ his only hypothesis is that the influx of power from touching dean's soul caused them to reflexively materialize, though it doesn't explain why it hasn't happened before now. perhaps it's because his grip on his powers isn't as absolute, with this borrowed grace?
either way, it's going to be a problem. he can't use dean's excuses for everything, and he obviously can't fly anymore ]
... Maybe it's only temporary.
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it got smaller and smaller
cas' dick
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