Cursed to Love You ~ Destiel Smut

Chapter One

Dean's Prespective

  They rushed inside the motel room, Castiel leaning on Dean's shoulder. "Hey, Cas, buddy. Come on, you're gonna be fine,'' Dean reassured his angel, laying him on the couch. Castiel was breathing heavily, gripping where the bullet had entered him.

Sam scurried into the bathroom, coming back out with a box in hand. He popped open the lid, pulling out some supplies to retrieve the bullet and sew the wound.

  "Cas, this is gonna hurt like a son of bitch," Dean warned, patting his friend's shoulder. Castiel just grunted in reply.

  Sam stayed silent, pulling Cas' shirt up and carefully placing tweezers into the wound. After a few moments, Sam spoke, "It's not in here,"

  "What? What the hell do you mean, Sammy," Dean questioned, anger in his voice. "It has to be in there, Sammy. No exit wound,"

  "What's going on," Castiel's voice spoke, wavering.

  "Hey, relax," Sam ordered. They brothers stay silent, waiting for Cas to calm down before speaking again.

  "I know there isn't, okay? But I'm telling you it's gone," Sam told his brother, his voice low.

  "Then, what? It just vanished," the oldest Winchester growled sarcastically.

  "Look for yourself," Sam held up his hands, taking a step back. Dean approached Cas, investigating himself.

  "Dean," a gruff voice murmured, "what is it?"

  "Cas, dammit, stop talking," Dean hissed, before turning to his brother, on frown on both the Winchesters' faces.

  "Cas, we're going to the kitchen, getting some beers. Then Sam's gonna sew you up,"

  The two boys left the room, Dean rummaging in the fridge. He pulled out two bottles, handing one to Sam and taking a swig of his own. "What the hell's going on, Sammy," the words came out barely above a whisper.

  "I don't know, man. But it's gone," Sam paused. "We need to do research on this. What the did that witch say? Maybe we can figure out what's going on, if we know the spell,"

  Dean sighed, "Yeah, right. You fix Cas up, I'll get started,"

~~~

  "Whatever that bitch said wasn't Latin. Think it was like... I don't know, La yinkin wasmat something something... alan," Dean dragged his hand over his face. "I don't know man. Cas hasn't got his powers and we have no idea what she did to him,"

  Castiel was laying on the couch, sleeping- a rare sight. But he needed rest after the wound, and not being able to heal his himself. "There has to be something in here. We just gotta keep looking, Dean," Sam reassured his brother.

  "Look, I say we get some food, get a few hours of sleep, and we'll keep going in the morning. Cas should be awake and can help us then too," The younger Winchester suggested.

  "No," Dean snapped, "no. Not until we find something out,"

~~~

  Dean woke up, his face leaning on an open book and someone shaking his shoulder, "Dean," it was Castiel's voice, "we need to talk,"