Words Amongst Many

- Seven - Minutes -

- Cas's POV -

Michael came running out of the house carrying Dean. He put him in his truck and told me to get in. He laid Dean's head on my lap and now here we are. Driving aimlessly.
"Where are we going?" I ask running my hand over Dean's hair for the billionth time.
"A lodge." Michael says. I watch the blood trickle from Dean's injuries. He protected me again. I shouldn't have let him. Michael drives until we pull into a parking lot in the edge of town. A 6 story tall building. Fairly new.
"Okay. Here. Put this hoodie on Dean. I got it from his room." Michael hands me a sweater and I slide it under Dean carefully as Michael grabs three bags from the back. I zip up the hoodie and put the hood on. Michael comes around my side and hands me a backpack. He slides Dean off the seat. He looks so small. He's hurt and curled up in a little motionless ball. I swallow my tears and follow Michael inside. We go to the front counter. Michael gets a room. There is pool so I watch the people swim. When the employees ask about Dean, Michael just says he is really tired. The sweater hides most of his injuries except the leg one so Michael hides that the best he can.
"Come on, Cas." He says. I follow him. He go in an elevator and up to the second floor into room 275. Michael pulls a large thick black blanket out of a duffle bag and hands it to me telling me to lay it on the bed. I do. He puts Dean on the bed and takes the sweater off. I pull Dean's phone out of his pocket and dial Bobby.
"Dean?"
"No, Cas."
"Where's Dean?"
"Laying on the bed unconscious." I say.
"Protected you?" Bobby asks.
"Yeah." I say trying not to cry.
"Anyone with you guys?"
"Michael." I reply.
"Tell him I say thank you." Bobby says.
"I will." I hang up and watch Michael get a cloth out of his bag soaking it with rubbing alcohol.
"No. That'll hurt him more." I say grabbing Michael's wrist.
"He won't feel it." He reassures me. I release his wrist walking around the bed and sit next to Dean holding his hand. Michael cleans Dean's wounds and slips the sweater off him. He cleans the cuts all over his head and puts his stuf away.
"I'm gunna go get food. If he wakes up give him some water. You guys can watch TV." Michael directs I nod and keep sitting next to Dean.
"I'm sorry." I whisper. I lace my fingers through Dean's and he squeezes my hand.
"Dean?" My voice breaks.
"Hey, Cas." He says with a rough voice.
"Are you okay?" I ask. He sits up.
"Other than the massive headache and sharp pains. Yes." He says. I smile relieved.
I look at his hand.
"Can I fix that?" I ask. He puts his hand out and I grab the bandage that Michael left on the ground. I wind it around his hand and tie a knot in it. Dean leans over and kisses the side of my mouth gently.
"Thank you." He says.
"My dad called you my boyfriend." I say.
"I know." He responds.
"And you didn't deny it." I lower my voice.
"No." Dean whispers smiling at me. I hug him and he holds me tightly. I can feel him smiling which makes me smile. I pull back and sit on the bed beside him.
"Why didn't you deny it?" I ask going back to serious.
"Maybe because I wish for it." He replies looking out the window. Window reminds me.
"Dean. Whever I sleep over sometimes you get up and don't come back until dawn. Where do you go?" I ask.
"The roof." He replies hesitantly.
"Why?" I ask. He sighs and stays silent for a moment and look up at me with tears in his eyes.
"Because on the top of that hill, 20 miles forward from my roof, is a backroad. Where my dad and I crashed. And sometimes when I sit on the roof, it gives me a chance to think. But it never gets me far. I always end up in the same place. The place that has the thought that it was my fault." He explains. I stare at him.
"It wasn't your fault." I reassure him. He looks up at me with a pained expression. I have nothing to say to him because I wasn't there. I don't know how it played out. I lean forward and kiss him pushing him back down onto the bed. His hands rest on my waist pulling me down until I am laying ontop of him. He nips at my lip and I kiss his jawline.
"Wish come true." He says breathlessly. I smile and sit up. He stares at me. I can tell he wants to sit up. He's waiting for me. I grab two fistfulls of his shirt and pull him up. He pulls me against him and kisses my neck. He breaths on my neck sending a shiver from the core of my being to the tips of my mind.
"Where's Michael?" Dean asks.
"Getting food." I reply willing him to kiss me again. He kisses the hollow of the throat and it takes me a minute to realize that his hands are on my bare skin. On my stomach. I shiver again. I'm so sensative to his touch.
"Let's watch TV." Dean suggests. I nod.
I open my eyes. His cuts are bleeding again.
"You're in horrible shape." I say rolling off him.
"Really? Cause I've never felt better." He says sliding the remote off the nightstand. He turns on the TV and clicks through the channels. He eventually just turns on a movie called Night At the Museum. He leans on the pillow and slides his fingers between mine. I squeeze his hand daring him to never let go. He squeezes my hand back accepting the challenge. We lay there for a little while and Michael walks back in and sees us.
"Hey." He says.
"Hey, Mikey." Dean says. I just wave and smile thankfully.
"Hey, how ya feelin'?" He asks walking over to Dean.
"They hurt a lot." Dean says. My mind flashes back to earlier. My nerves crave the feeling again but I just push the feeling aside.
"What took you so long?" I ask.
"I wanted to make sure that dad was knocked out." Michael says.
"Why?" I ask sitting up.
"Call the cops." Michael says calmly. He takes his phone out and takes a picture of Dean and I. He shows us the picture.
"Wow, I look like absolute shit." Dean says.
"Good." Michael says.
"Don't we need to be with dad?" I ask. Michael nods.
"Leave the stuff here. Come on. We'll get food on the way back." Michael says. I slip my hand out of Dean's.
"Shit the employees. They are gunna see how horrible you look and blame me." Michael says stopping in the hallway.
"Cas." Dean says. I look at him. He pokes my shoulder.
"Tag." He says smiling. I get it. I swing my arm and he dodges it turning and running down the hallway. He romps down the stairs, Michael is on our heels. I turn around and hit his shoulder.
"Tag!" I yell loudly to make sure the employees hear. Dean laughs loudly stopping.
"Dean." Micheal says angrily and runs after Dean.
"Oh shit." Dean stops laughing and runs out the door. I am behind them. We run out the doors and I wave to the people at the desk. They smile and wave back, laughing. I turn back around giving a laugh of relief. We race to the truck. Dean sits in the middle seat and I sit in the passanger. We laugh all the way to the house.

Michael then Dean walk in the house. Then me. I look around. Everything is smashed and dad is laying on the floor.
"I did this?" Dean sounds ashamed.
"No. Dad did." Michael says defensively.
He pulls out his phone and dials something.
"Hi. I would like to report abuse." Michael says. He gives our address and pushes us out of the house explaining the situation.
He hangs up thanking them and opens the tailgate of his truck telling Dean to sit down.
"I need to make your wounds looks slightly fresh." Michael says.
"Then cut em." Dean says.
"What. No. Dean." I say. Michael slips a knife out of his pocket and in no time Dean is bleeding freshly again. Michael runs to Dean's backyard ad tosses the knife in a bush and comes jogging back out. Dean's eyes are watering.
"Dean?" I ask.
"Shut up. Look worried." Dean says.
"Why do we have to act if this all really happened?" I ask. Dean looks at me with such a pained expression is makes my heart split in two. I hold the sides of his face.
"Dean." I whine. The cops pull up behind us as Michael walks over to Dean with a wet cloth. He touches the wound on his shoulder and Dean flinches.
"Hey, everyone alright?" One cop asks.
"Him. Not so much. Us two," Michael gestures to me. "We're okay." He explains.
"So why is he beat up the worst?" The officer asks.
"He was protecting Castiel here and I had just arrived when Dean fell unconsious." Michael says. He's not lying.
"So what did you do?" The officer asks Michael.
"Took Dean out here and when I went back in my dad tried to hit me with a whip so I knocked him out." Michael says. I hold Dean's hand and he leans his head on my shoulder.
Michael leads one officer inside and one starts questioning us.
"What are your names?" He asks.
"I'm Castiel and this is Dean." I say.
"And are you hurt, Castiel?" He asks.
"No. But I just finished wrapping up Dean's hand." I say gently lifting Dean's hand. He groans and buries his head further into my neck.
"Cas I don't feel too well." He whispers weakly. I lean him up, he can't act that voice. I look into his eyes and they close.
"Dean?" I say laying him down in the truck bed. I jump up and kneelnext to him.
"How much blood has he lost?" The office asks.
"I don't know. We ran to a hotel and he was still bleeding and we came back here and he is bleeding again. He was okay. He was himself. I don't know what's wrong." I talk fast and panicked.
"Okay. Hey!" The office yells towards the house. The two lean out the door. Michael sees Dean's feet and runs the fastest I've seen him run.
"He's a joker." Michael laughs nervously.
"Is he?" He office asks.
"He better be." Michael says shaming Dean.
"Hey, Dean. Buddy. Quit the act. Dean!" Michael shakes Dean's shoulder.
"Mr. Novak. You said your dad puts stuff on the whip when he clean it?" An officer asks.
"It's a yellow liquid. I don't know what it's called." Michael is more panicked than me. The officers look at eachother. Dean is pale and his breathing is weak.
"Officers requesting an ambulance immediately." The officers radio. Ambulance? He was just okay.
How could he need an ambulance?
I look down at him.
"No need to panic. It's just a poison. It takes atleast 2 and a half hours to activate. If we get him to the hospital now then he will be perfectly fine." The officers explain.
"Someone needs to ride with him in the-"
"Me." I say before they can finish.
"I'll drive the truck." Michael says.

It takes the ambulance a few minutes to get there. Just like it took Dean minutes to go down. I ride to the hospital with him holding his hand tightly as my mind races through a thousand different possibilities.