Bare My Soul | Destiel AU

Sick

 Day turned to night as Castiel laid in bed, his grace slowly waving over Dean in a careful watch as the minutes slowly ticked past. He could hear The peaceful dreaming from the other students in the dorm, different dreams over lovers, tests, and food filling their tired minds. Castiel himself was tired, but his watch on Dean was more important and no amount of the dreaming universe was going to convince him otherwise.

 Yet, Castiel found his eyes slowly closing in as steady droop, unable to keep up with the soothing touch of a soul washing aver him, easing him to sleep. He should have been alarmed when he found his grace  easing back to his body, but he could not even find the strength to register what was going on. He only remembered closing his eyes, green dancing behind his lids before it all went black.

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A crash jerked Castiel from his dreamless state of dozing, his human heart hammering with surprise and fear as his eyes snapped open, coming to stare at the empty bed where Dean should have been lying. He flung his covers from his body, standing quickly and following the source of the noise into the kitchen, coming upon the sight of a shattered glass with Dean standing beside it, barely able to stand as he braced himself against the counter with shaking arms.

"Dean? What are you doing up? Come back to bed." Castiel urged gently, walking around the counter with a worried look on his face. However, Dean just shook his head, his face pale and what looked like vomit dribbled down his lips. It didn't take the angel long to see the mess on the kitchen floor beside the hunter.

"I'm thirsty." Dean mumbled, slowly shuffling away from Castiel the best he could. The angel followed him, careful of the mess, approaching him like he would a wild animal.

"Dean. You're sick. There are just times when you have to accept that you need help right now." Castiel said, reaching out to grab Dean, only to pause when the hunter switched all his weight to one, worryingly shaky arm and grabbing a knife out of the wood block with the other.

"Don't come any closer Castiel. I know what the hell I'm doing." Dean said, his voice barely able to stay above a whisper as he took another step back, only to stop when he bumped into the other adjacent counter. Castiel shook his head, moving closer anyways.

"That's enough, Dean. Don't be a child." Castiel mumbled, sliding his arm around Dean's waist to support him. Dean struggled in his hold, the knife nearly hitting Castiel's eye as the hunter waved it around wildly. The angel tried to grab it to keep Dean from hurting himself, but his spine locked up and a cry of pain left his lips as the knife hit his left wing, burying in the flesh just under the ridge of his wing to the black hilt.

There was a moment of silence as Castiel shuddered, trying to keep the pains in his spine from ripping him apart as he gritted his teeth, hauling the still struggling Dean back towards the bed. The hunter's nails dug into his skin of his cheek as they reached the bedroom, forcing him to look down at Dean.

"Please, Cas. Just kill me." Dean begged, his eyes wide with pain as he struggled to even keep his hand on Castiel's cheek. The angel felt his heart tear open, leaving his chest on fire as he took in a shuddering breath, tears stinging the back of his eyes.

Castiel didn't speak until he got Dean into the bed, laying him down gently and wiping off the blood that had begun sliding down his arm from his wing. He kissed Dean on the forehead, closing his eyes as tears began to escape in a flood.

"You'll be okay..." Castiel whispered against his skin, listening to how fast Dean's breath evened out and his heart beat slowed. The hunter never fell asleep that fast before.

"I'm so sorry, Dean." Castiel whimpered, blood and tears smearing on his face as he attempted to wipe the tears away. He walked back to the kitchen slowly, every movement making his legs feel like lead as he cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, putting everything back in place.

When it came time to pull out the knife, he grabbed a dish towel, folding it neatly and placing it in his mouth. With an extra effort to be quiet, he grabbed it at the hilt and jerked, letting out a loud groan as little by little it came out, each movement bringing a new spray of blood. Finally, the bloodied knife fell into the sink, and Castiel barely had the time to blink away his tears when his spine began glowing and moving towards the wound on his wing.

...shit. Castiel thought, letting his head and arms rest on the counter as he braced himself. His body seized and he thankfully choked on his own breath, making it impossible to scream around the gag as the wound began burning, slowly recombining the skin together and stitching new tissue back in place. Slowly, but surely, the pain finally began to lessen, until the last light faded away and he slumped to the ground with a heavy thump.

For several minutes, he let himself lay there, staring up at the ceiling with a weak and shaky breath. It's been almost a year since the last time he had gone through that, and his body felt like jello with the after effects. Yet, he preferred it over the pain. Slowly, his grace slowly came back out of its pained shell, seeking Dean's soul and allowing them to slowly swirl together, his eyes closing as he prayed to his father for all the help he could get.