The day an angel knocked on 221B backer street door

Crying in the dark

Chapter 3: crying in the dark

When Sherlock saw him sprawled like a rag doll on the couch he grimaced but said nothing. He knew well that if John decided it he couldn't go back on it. He went upstairs.

John placed a small warm towel on his forehead and tried as best as he could to clean his wounds with alcohol. Sometimes he hissed in pain as John passed the cotton ball over the still visible wounds. He woke up sometimes and watched John heal him. He never says anything. He looked like he didn't understand what was going on or why John was taking care of him. He looked so nice, John thought.
-Thank you. I know I don't deserve care. He said with a small voice.
- You saved my friend. I owe you.

One night when John was about to fall asleep, he thought back to all the times he had seen Castiel in front of Sherlock's stone. If only he had known that his friend had just been resurrected...

A faint sound pulled him out of his thoughts. He sat down on his bed to listen better. It was crying.  A weak and hurt Castiel was crying and sobbing alone in the dark.

He couldn't let him cry alone. At first he thought it might be because he was in pain from his injuries, but no, it was cryings from sadness. The ones that really hurt.

He slowly descended downstairs and saw the angel who was on his feet and was leaning on the edge of a window looking at the stars. The soft light of the city lightly illuminated his tearful face.
-You shouldn't get up, it might make your condition worse.
Castiel turned to meet John's gaze. When John looked into his eyes he met the saddest look he had ever seen. It was as if all the pain this angel could feel could pass to John in a single glance.
- I'm sorry, I'm going to go sit down.
- No wait, I'll help you. John walked quietly over to Castiel and helped him sit down. He knew that if he didn't talk about all this pain, this pain he had inside him, it wouldn't help him. It would slowly consume him from the inside. Castiel was silent on the couch. He was just staring at John, gently wiping away his tears.

-The other day, when you arrived, you said that your friends didn't want you anymore. Why?
  Castiel stopped running his hands over his face before looking down.
-I .... I hurt him.
- you hurt him?
- It wasn't really me, I was controlled, but I'm sure he doesn't want me anymore. Anyway, I am just a burden for this team. And then it doesn't matter. They are surely happy without me. I don't matter.
- Yes you matter Castiel. Even though we've only known each other for a few days, I've grown attached to you. Tell me. It may not matter to anyone, but to me it does.

Castiel seemed surprised at first and then he leaned on John on the couch and told him the whole story. From the beginning to the end. How he abandoned all he had, his only house, his family for Dean, How much he loves Dean, the way Naomi had tortured him for months, Crowley...

Castiel was sobbing over John and he was putting his hand on his back to comfort him. It took about 4 hours. If only he too had been able to benefit from this help when he had lost Sherlock... He did not hold back his tears. He cried several times with the angel, his tears mixing with those of Castiel.

Castiel had appreciated what John had done for him. The warm hand on his back was comforting. The seraph ends up falling asleep on John and the military doctor had let the head of the angel fall on a pillow before bringing him a blanket and going upstairs. Even though he was asleep, Castiel's breathing remained stridious after a long episode of crying. He was glad that a few days ago, he didn't let Castiel leave alone. He didn't deserve to die alone. Dying alone with all that emotional pain. He didn't even deserve to die outright. He couldn't even understand what Sherlock had been thinking.