Take The Heart I Never Wanted to Give

11

Five minutes. Five agonizingly long minutes Castiel had to wait. He itched to get a move on and find Dean, but he knew if he did that he would automatically be disqualified. The image of Dean's face before the gunshot went off had been playing on repeat in Castiel's mind. The fear and panic that shined in his eyes, the way he stood there like a scared animal that's been wounded, it sent chills up Castiel's spine.

He suddenly realized just how important the safety of Dean was to him. He <i>had</i> to find Dean. He had promised Dean that he would and he would be damned if he broke that promise to him.

"How much longer do we have to wait?" Castiel asked the guard that stood as his 'helper'.

"Three minutes." Came the automatic reply.

<i>'Only 3 minutes have passed?'</i> Castiel thought. The waiting was slowly killing him. Dean was out there, running for his life, and here Castiel was, sitting, waiting, like some obedient dog. He should say screw it go now. <i>'King John and his rules be damned.'</i> Castiel thought.

"One minute, sir." The guard had said.

Castiel inhaled sharply, his hands gripping the reigns of his horse tighter, preparing to sprint into immediate action. He had studied the path that led to the redwood endlessly and the map tucked safely in his pocket in case it was necessary to use it.

"Do me a favor," Castiel said to his helper without looking at him, "stay behind and don't follow me."

"Huh?" He said.

That's when the gunshot went and everything happened all at once. Castiel immediately jerked the reigns of his horse roughly, the tall creature springing into action and running through the entrance of the forest, the silhouettes of tall trees and bushes blurred by as he sped up.

"Hang on, Dean," Castiel said partially to himself, "I'm coming."

✧✧✧✧✧

The sharp pain in Dean's feet was becoming increasingly harder to ignore. He didn't know how long he had been running, or how far he had gotten, but he knew he had to reach the redwood tree. He let out a cry of pain when a particularly sharp branch cut across the back of his foot. He collapsed on the ground, his chest and hands scraping against even more branches and sharp pebbles.

Dean grunted at the impact and sat up so he could examine his foot. There was a cut there that ran from the soul of his foot to his heel. It wasn't deep, but it was bleeding and it stung greatly.

"Dammit." Dean muttered. He tore off a piece of his sweatpants and wrapped it around his foot, making a makeshift bandage to keep any dirt from getting into the wound. He struggled to get up, nearly falling down when he tried to put pressure on his cut foot. He stopped and breathed out shakily, gathering his nerves and squashing the rising panic that had begun to pool in his gut, "Just breathe," He said to himself as he began to limp further. The redwood was still a ways away and he had to get there before the others reached him.

Dean's head snapped to the side when he heard hooves galloping along the dirt ground. A scent filled his nose and he recognized it as Michael's. Thinking quickly, he climbed the nearest tree, ignoring the pain in his foot and perched high enough to where the leaves hid him and partially hid his scent.

Michael and one of the guards came into view below on their horses,

"I swear I heard him over here," The guard said, looking frustrated and put off.

"He was. But he's not anymore." Michael climbed down from the horse he was on and he knelt down and rubbed something in between his fingers. Dean could smell the faint coppery scent of blood. His blood.