You Soar & You Drown (Destiel AU)

Chapter Six

When Cas woke up, his face was pressed into a book, and he’d fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position. His neck ached annoyingly, and the human-like pain startled him. He jerked upright, only to find himself alone in a dark motel room that looked like a paper hurricane had blown through. Maps, newspaper articles, and notes littered the ground and were pinned up on the walls. It looked exactly the opposite of Cas’ neat, empty apartment.

As he stood up, stretching, someone suddenly started knocking at the door. His heart leaped, and for a second, he thought, Dean! and ran over to the door, throwing it open before he had a chance to reconsider. It wasn’t Dean at the door. A hooded figure stood before him, all of his or her features thrown into darkness. Only the glint of colorless eyes revealed that there was a person under the hood at all.

“Hello, Castiel,” a familiar voice said, and with one gesture, Lucifer swept the hood off and grabbed Cas’ wrist with one hand, the other one suddenly holding an angel blade. Cas tugged against his older brother’s strong grip, terrified, but he already knew it was useless. Lucifer brought the blade up, drawing it lightly across Castiel’s jawline.

“Well, hello, brother. This will be fun.”

 * * *

Cas woke up screaming.

 * * * 

Dean was the only one in the room when Cas jolted awake, sweating and crying out, clawing his shirt open as if there were something there. Dean ran over from his position on the couch and sat down next to the angel, pulling him into a hug and awkwardly running his hand up and down Cas’ back until he stopped shaking as violently, and his tears started to dry up.

Dean rubbed his hand against the angel’s back, but stopped when Cas made a moaning sound and shuddered. Then, without warning, his wings burst from his back, right where Dean had been touching, and knocking the hunter off the bed.

“S-s-sorry Dean,” Cas hiccupped, trying to fold his wings in again, but he was too distraught to focus his control on them.

“Don’t do that again, Cas,” the hunter groaned, pulling himself up laboriously. He froze right when the angel came back into view; Cas was staring down at his chest, where streaks of blood marked long cuts slicing through his skin.

“What the hell happened?” Dean breathed, not waiting for Cas’ answer before running to the bathroom for the first aid kit. When he got back, Cas was sliding his hands along the cuts, a confused expression twisting his mouth adorably. Dean blushed furiously as he caught himself thinking that and tried to push the thoughts away, hiding his face behind the kit as he approached Cas.

“I don’t understand,” the angel said as Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and opened the kit. “I can’t heal these wounds.”

“Maybe your angel mojo is just drained out or something.”

“My ‘angel mojo’ as you call it does not just ‘drain out’.” Cas glanced over at the bandage rolls in Dean’s hands and then looked away quickly, wincing as the slices along his chest and stomach shifted.

“Come here,” Dean instructed, not looking away from the kit as he searched through it for some medicine. Cas moved over, opening his mouth to ask a question, but suddenly seeming to reconsider.

“Take off your shirt.”

“What?”

“I need to be able to get to the cuts, okay?” Dean looked down again to hide his red cheeks, suddenly finding the beige bedspread intensely fascinating. Cautious, he gently placed his hand on Cas’.

Cas stared at Dean’s hand, looking at it as if it were alien. His pretty blue eyes flicked to the first aid kit, then they darted back to fix on Dean’s face. The Winchester felt his breathing speed up, his eyes moving from Cas’ lips to his eyes, trying to decide which was better to focus on.

“Dean?” Cas asked, his voice unsteady. His face was inches from Dean’s—if he wanted, he could just smash their lips together, like before.

“Cas,” Dean breathed, discarding all self control as he gently pulled Cas’ lips to his own. After a moment of pause, the angel kissed back, letting go of his own self control. Dean held him carefully, making sure not to touch the sensitive cuts along his stomach and chest. Cas was gentle too, as if he were unsure of himself, but after a few minutes he gave in and let Dean take control.