Destiel Imagines

14. do you love me?

"The car! Get in the car!" shouted Dean, running full sprint towards the Impala and jumping inside as if his life depended on it - because, in all honesty, it did. Sam tumbled in through the passenger door, yanking it shut behind him and almost slamming his ankle in the process.

"Cas!" exclaimed Dean, "dammit, where is he?"

There was a flash of violent red light, and then Cas screamed in pain. "Cas!" Panicked, Dean started to get out of the car, but Sam held him back.

The light died. They heard another scream, this one feminine. The witch's. Moments later, the door opened and Cas fell to a seat in the back, wiping blood off of his blade.

"Cas, what the hell just happened?" Dean demanded, flooring it out of the gravel driveway and down the road. He looked through the rearview mirror, his eyes full of concern.

Cas sighed. "I'm not exactly sure. I believe she tried to cast a spell, but..." With no warning, he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Then he jolted, his body seizing up. "Cas!" Sam shouted, twisting in his seat and trying to hold the angel still. Cas convulsed for a moment, then went limp, falling across the backseat.

"Is he dead?" demanded Dean.

"No, no, he's...he's alive." Sam sat back. "Unconscious."

• • •

They reached the bunker and climbed out, carrying Cas inside. They set him down on a couch; he was surprisingly heavy. Dean ran a hand through his hair. "What the hell was that?"

Before Sam could reply, Cas abruptly sat straight up, his eyes opening and glowing faintly golden. "My convulsive condition was a reaction to a twenty-four hour honesty curse, cast by the witch. Nearly impossible to break, and in this situation, not worth the trouble. No adverse side effects." Then the moment passed as quickly as it had come. Cas weakened; he would have tumbled off of the couch if Dean hadn't caught him.

Sam's eyes were wide. "What just happened?"

Instantly, Cas's eyes glowed again. "The spell awakened me from my brief comatose state in order to respond to your question. Apologies if I startled you." The glow faded, his head falling against Dean's shoulder.

Dean and Sam shared a disturbed look.

"Cas?" said Dean. "You still in there?"

There went the eyes again. "I am still here, Dean. It is simply beyond my power at the moment to resist responding to any question I'm asked with anything but the complete and honest truth. The spell does not even leave me the option of resisting it."

"Is that you or the spell talking?"

"Both, Dean."

"Okay," said Sam, "this is really, really weird. Cas looks like shit and we have literally no clue what to do."

Wearily, Cas lifted his head. "I - I'm alright." He sank back down again. "Just exhausted. I'm sorry; that was stupid of me. I should have gotten to the Impala sooner."

"No, no, Cas, it wasn't your fault." Dean sighed. "Are you -"

"Avoid phrasings things as questions. I only have control over my responses to statements."

"Right. Okay. Then...I'm assuming you're not doing so well."

"That assumption is correct," said Cas with a small smile.

"And I'm also going to assume that...there's some way we can help. Maybe by getting you food. Or meds. Or a blanket. Or anything along those lines. And if...if you can think of anything else...don't hesitate to let us know."