Finally

Chapter Three

(Dean's POV)

Dean sat with his uninjured elbow on the edge of the fallen angel's bed, his tear stained face resting on the palm of his hand. Even though his eyes were closed, the occasional tear would escape adding one more mark to his already marred skin. It had been six days, and Dean had hardly left his friend's side. But it had also been six days that Cas had been in a coma. Six days and Cas was still alive, but six days Dean has had to live with the guilt of breaking a promise to his friend. Dedication coupled with worry; hope paired with guilt. Dean wondered how much longer he would be able to last.

Lifting his head and opening his eyes, Dean looked at the fallen angel laying on the bed before him. Cas's face was pale, but blue and bruised from the beating he took. Wounds were stitched up, his broken leg bound tightly; Cas would be fairly well if he woke up. Overcome by another wave of guilt, Dean decided to break the silence of the room.

"I'm so sorry, Cas. I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to you, but here you are now. This is all my fault," murmured Dean, his voice choked with emotion. "I know you can't hear me, but I need you to come back, to wake up. I can't take this anymore. I need you, Cas." Dean then let his face fall onto the edge of the fallen angel's bed in exhaustion and defeat.

His mourning was interrupted by Sam quietly walking into the room. Dean rubbed his hands over his face before looking up towards Sam, waiting for him to speak.

"Dean, could I talk to you in the hall," asked Sam timidly. Without waiting for a reply, he left the room; Dean had to stand and leave Cas in order to confront his brother.

"Dean, you have been sitting in there with Cas for six days now. You barely eat and drink," began Sam. Dean opened his mouth in protest, but his brother cut him off. "Don't try and argue. And I know you don't sleep either, so don't bother protesting that either. Dean, I'm just worrying about you, alright? This whole thing with Cas seems to have hit you pretty hard, and I understand, Cas is my friend too, but you can't keep going like this. Just take a break, okay? I will watch over Cas," offered Sam.

Thinking about what his brother said, Dean realized all that Sam had put up with the past couple of days. While Dean was sitting with Cas, Sam had been taking care of Dean: bringing him food and water even if he didn't want it, beer when he couldn't take it anymore and needed to drown out the pain, a blanket, even a chair. He had been so numb, overcome by the grief of what happened. Dean can only take so many deaths before it become too much to bear.

"Sam...," began Dean, who looked up at his brother. Sam waved his hand to cut Dean off. Clearly he wasn't taking no for an answer this time.

"I have done a lot for you Dean, please do this one thing I ask. Go shower, eat lunch, take a nap, anything, just please go take a break. One hour, alright Dean? I will sit with Cas," pleaded Sam.

"Thanks, Sam," replied Dean wearily as he trudged down the hall towards the bathroom. He didn't exactly want to leave Cas, but it was the least he could do for Sam.

Dean stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, turning on the water as he did. Just one hour. I only have to do this for one hour, Dean told himself as he stepped into the steamy shower. He closed his eyes while soothing water cascaded down his face. Single drops slipped away down the drain like each of Dean's worries, only to circle through and resurface once more. Allowing the heat to melt away his thoughts, Dean stood alone listening only to the drumming sounds of the water as it hit the floor beneath him. The sound was slowly lulling him to sleep, its rhythm peaceful and simple, but just as he had the past six days, Dean resisted sleep.