A Profound Bond (Destiel One Shots)

Castiel's New Wings

SORRY LIFE HAPPENED BUT IM BACK BITCHES, IF ANY OF YOU ARE STILL AROUND LMAO, ENJOY!

Dean Winchester laid in his bed staring at the ceiling of the bunker. The black surrounding him seemed to engulf him completely.

He was thinking about Castiel.

Normally when he thought about Cas, he felt tingly and happy inside. A feeling that he shamefully hid from those around him, sometimes even himself. But now, he felt as dark and frightened as the blackness that lurked in his bedroom.

Cas had fallen, his grace had been ripped away brutally, along with his wings. He was now human, and completely unaware as to how to cope with it.

Eight hours or so ago, Cas came stumbling in, muddy and soaked in blood and sweat. Sam had tried to help Dean clean him up, but all Cas did was desperately cling to Dean. He fell to the ground in front of Dean, apologizing, murmuring on and on about heaven and Metatron and how he had to fix things. Dean had dragged him back up by the forearm until he was at eye level.

"Cas." He had said softly, Dean's gentle tone somehow shushing the blubbering angel. His voice seemed to be as effective against Castiel's despair as a slap to his face.

Sam kept asking questions, what happened? Where's Metatron? What about the other angels?

Dean stared at his little brother until he stood down, promptly squeezing Cas' arm a little tighter as he looked him in the face, "Let's get you cleaned up Cas."

Sam made a gesture with his hands, asking Dean if he wanted help. Dean shook his head no, and began to help the struggling angel to an even balance on his feet.

Cas didn't say a word.

Dean walked him into the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet. Dean carefully removed Cas' trenchcoat, then his tie, then gently unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off of his shoulders as Cas winced and clenched his teeth. Dean's heart stopped as he realized he was peeling the shirt off of Cas' back. The blood was so thick and dry that it had begun to glue Cas' shirt to his skin. When Dean finally managed to get the shirt off without inflicting any further damage, he turned Cas to the side to take a look at his back.

He felt like gagging. Through his years of hunting he had seen blood and guts o'plenty. But what he was looking at now made his stomach churn in ways unimaginable. It looked like someone had cut Cas' wings out with a dull butter knife. There was blood, so much blood.

"Jesus Cas." He muttered.

Cas didn't say a word.

Dean got a wet rag, and began gently wiping the blood away. He lost count of how many addtional rags he used, each soaking up with blood within minutes. When Dean finally managed to remove every trace of blood on Cas, he got peroxide out of the medicine cabinet. Cas shot his head up, eyes growing wide.

"Hey. there's no alcohol in it. It won't sting. I promise." Dean found himself crouching in front of Cas like a nine year old with a scraped knee. He touched Cas' leg, squeezing it lightly.

Cas didn't say a word.

Dean poured the peroxide into Cas' wounds. Feeling him shudder as he latched onto Dean's arm, Dean felt a knot grow in his stomach as he realized how much pain Cas was really in. He bandaged Cas' back as best as he could.

"I'm gonna go grab some clothes for you to wear, I'll be right back alright?" Dean said softly. putting a hand gently on Cas' shoulder.

Cas stared at the ground.

Dean left the room.

He searched his dresser drawers until he found a a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Unsure as to whether his clothes would fit Cas, he made his way back to where he left Sammy to ask him for some of his clothes just in case. Wen Sam saw Dean enter the room, he quickly stood up.