Feathers And Spandex

Red And Black

⚠️Graphic depictions of blah blah⚠️

Sam woke to a frantic tapping. He looked to his alarm clock, it read 4 am. He groaned and sat up. The tapping noise continued.

What the hell is that?

He flipped the covers off of his legs and swung them the the side of the bed. He stood up, feet touching cold floor, he shivered.

The tapping got louder as he reached the living room, he wouldn't call it tapping anymore. More like knocking.

It was the window, he moved the curtain to see Dean frantically pounding on the window. He opened it. Dean crawled through, bringing another person with him, it was Cas. Dean was carrying him.

He looked horrible. Dried blood caked his face, his lip had split open. His right eye was swollen. Bruises blossomed all over the man, covering his arms and face. His shirt was in tatters and soaked in blood. His arm had a deep cut, but it was hard to tell where it ended because of all the blood surrounding the wound.

"Dean. What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know Sam, I really don't know."

—D

Dean sat on the chair next to the couch with his head in his hands. Sam looked over to him, he looked like a wreck. "Dean, he'll be fine." He looked up and ran his hands down his face. "Yeah, okay."

Dean turned his green eyed gaze to the man laying on the couch, still passed out. He looked a litter better, now that his face wasn't covered in blood. But bruises still covered him, he still had a black eye and a busted lip. He still had a deep gash in his arm. No, Cas wasn't fine.

Dean stood up. "I'm going to get him a shirt and some bandages for his arm." Sam nodded. Dean walked into the spare room, grabbing one of his many shirts he keeps at Sam's apartment. It wasn't anything special, just a plain black shirt, it should fit Cas. He stepped over to the closet, grabbing a roll of white bandages. He kept them here for when he got hurt on the job.

He walked back into the living room just as Sam stood up. "I'm gonna go make some soup." He nodded and his not-so-little brother walked to the kitchen.

Dean stepped around the edge of the couch, faced again with his injured friend. He lifted up the arm with a gash, inspecting it. It needed stitches. He figured it was best if the shirt wasn't in his way.

He unbuttoned the blood soaked fabric and peeled it off Cas, grimacing as it uncovered more wounds. Dean took the damp washcloth Sam had been using to clean the blood off earlier, bringing it to Cas chest.

He wiped the dried blood from the skin. It looked bad. Bruises covered his left side, little cuts all over his skin. He was being careful not to put too much pressure on Cas' side while he washed the red off.

When the blood had been cleaned off his chest, Dean moved to his arm. He took the first aid kit sitting at the foot of the couch, and pulled out a needle and thread. He hated stitches.

Being as careful as he could, he inserted the needle into the skin after applying alcohol, to ensure there would be no infection, pulling the thread until he reached the other end of the wound. Repeat.

It took 25 stitches to close the wound up, and when Dean finished, he wrapped it in bandages. He looked at his handiwork, it looked okay.

He moved his arms up on the couch and set his head down. "Soups ready!" Sam called from the kitchen. He lifted his head up and started to stand, then he felt a hand on his arm. He looked to Cas and saw the slits of his blue eyes staring back.

"Stay." He mumbled, and his eyes slipped shut again. Dean lightly took Cas' hand from his arm and held it, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles. "Okay."

"Dean-" Sam stopped when he saw his brother holding Cas' hand. He turned and went back to the kitchen, ladling the soup into bowls and bringing them out to his brother and Cas.

He set the bowls on the side table but Dean didn't notice, he was too caught up in his own world.

Sam smiled.

-•—
Okay, so really gory chapters I know. Don't worry, none of the main characters die. I swear it'll get happier.