New: "Peace of Mind and a Gentle Hand" (1/1)
Title: "Peace of Mind and a Gentle Hand" (1/1)
Author: rhymephile
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel UST, H/C; and a bit of Sam
Spoilers: Set between episodes 504 and 505
Warnings: Some blood and slight language
Word Count: 4066
Summary: When Dean flips the Impala and finds himself alone and injured in the woods, he reaches out for the one person he knows will always be there.
Author's Note Title taken from the Mindy Smith song "Peace of Mind." I doubt Dean would have been doing much talking in his condition, but go with it. References at the end of the story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Peace of Mind and a Gentle Hand" (1/1)
By RhymePhile
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the leaves next to his ear that told him something was wrong.
He thought about this, wondering why he could hear a warbler piping a tune that wasn't what he'd had on the stereo moments ago. The air around him was still, but it carried the contradictory scents of musky earth and motor oil, neither of which went together in any positive way.
There was another smell too, a thick, heavy odor that meant he was definitely in trouble: Blood.
"Well, shit," Dean muttered.
He remembered leaving the motel before Sam, itching for the hunt, telling him they'd be heading up Route 97 to Three Rivers, Oregon, to investigate reports of a hairy creature roaming the woods. Sam still had the gold Lincoln Continental and was more than happy to be driving for once, so he let Dean go off in the Impala alone.
Dean opened his eyes and instantly closed them again. He was upside down, still strapped into the Impala's seatbelt. She was resting on her roof, smashed down into the dirt and pine needles of the forest floor. If he weren't in such a terrible predicament, it might be beautiful. Dusk was falling, casting late-day shadows across the magnificent pine trees that surrounded him.
How in the hell did he get here? The highway was only three lanes, with the two on the right separated from the third by a metal divider. No one had even passed him for miles, except when that deer...oh, right, he thought. He hit the deer. Damn, it must have been a big one to cause him to smash into the trees and flip the Impala.
His poor baby. He'd just washed her, too. He could feel the dashboard touching his knees, and the windshield had burst in on the passenger side from where the deer had hit and bounced off. Knowing Sam would have been sitting there, he didn't regret his decision to drive alone.
Reaching down into his left pocket he was able to maneuver a hand to reach his cell phone. The interior of the Impala was so crumpled he had difficulty holding it up, only to see that he had no reception whatsoever.
He tried to sigh in irritation, except it sounded more wheezy and hissy than normal, and a pain exploded along his right side.
Part of the roof was buckled near his head, so he couldn't turn to see what was causing the pain. He fought down the urge to panic, trying in vain to ignore the fact that he was alone, in an upside-down car, in the middle of the forest, with no cell phone, and apparently bleeding, since the smell was stronger now.
Sam would have to see where he went off the road, right? He wasn't that far behind him. Dean tried to remember what Sam had said before he left, something about a shower and grabbing dinner, but whatever it was Dean had only been half-listening as usual.
Now what? He pushed against the warped steering wheel, hoping the Impala's horn would sound. All he heard in response were the increased noises of a darkening forest. He tried to suck in a lungful of air to shout, but that only caused a blinding pain to spread across his chest that made him almost pass out.
Passing out would be bad in this situation, he reasoned with himself. He needed to stay alert and assess the situation. Sam would come to his rescue. He just had to wait, and try to stay calm.
Dean wondered where Cas was at that moment. If he were riding along with him in the Impala as he had been the past few weeks, he would have winked out of the car like a ghost and then reappeared to lend him a hand with this mess.
"I could really use you now, Cas," Dean said out loud.
"Hello, Dean," said a voice to his left, after which the upside-down head of Castiel popped into view.
Dean squinted. "I'm not dreamin', am I?"
"I highly doubt you'd choose to dream yourself into a car wreck, despite your propensity for depressing thoughts."
"Yeah, you're right. The apocalypse is bad enough."
"I see you need my help," Castiel said.
"Is it obvious?" he asked sarcastically. "How did you find me?"
"You called."
"What about the mojo carved into my ribs?" Dean asked.
"Do you want to hear the explanation, or would you rather be freed from your crushed vehicle?"
"Yeah, shuttin' up now," Dean said, agreeing.
Castiel reached up to Dean's forehead with two fingers outstretched. "I can easily..."
"Wait!"
"What is it?"
"You need to crawl over to the passenger side before you start zippin' me around the forest here, Cas. I can't move and I can smell blood."
Castiel cocked his head quizzically, and then appeared next to Dean inside the Impala.
"You're impaled on a tree branch," Castiel said firmly, but with a hint of worry in his voice. "It seems to have pierced the roof when the car landed, and punctured your side."
"Did you just say 'impaled'?"
"Yes."
"Great."
"What shall I do?"
"Well now that you can see what it is, do your I Dream of Jeannie thing and get me the hell out of here!" Dean said impatiently. "I'm startin' to have trouble breathing."
"But Dean, I may injure you further if I move you suddenly. I'm still cut off from Heaven as you recall. I can't heal you."
"Shit," he hissed, "I forgot. Okay, how much do you know about the human body, Cas?"
"I haven't been among humans as long as some of my brethren, so only what I've been exposed to through inhabiting Jimmy," Castiel answered. "Along with what I know about you."
"Which isn't all that much, considering you can heal yourself. Or Jimmy. Whatever. Wait, what do you know about me?"
"Your poor eating habits, the amount of scars covering your body, the curious way you scratch yourself in the morning..."
"You can see all that?" Dean asked incredulously.
"When I know where you are."
"That's..." Dean paused to cough, a harsh, wet, rattling noise. "Oh, that's not a good sound..."
Dean's voice trailed off, things went blurry, and then he felt Castiel touching his face.
"Dean. Dean. Please don't fall into unconsciousness. I don't know what to do."
"Whuh?"
Castiel patted Dean's cheek a little more forcefully. "I said not to drift into unconsciousness. I'm ill-equipped to deal with this situation and I need you to tell me what to do."
"My guardian angel needs help savin' me," Dean grinned, coming around again.
"This isn't funny, Dean."
"Okay," he grunted, trying to take shallow breaths, "first, don't pull whatever it is that's sticking in me out, got it?"
"Yes."
"I assume you can, y'know, blink me out of the car, right?"
"Yes."
"Then you need to break off the branch impaling me as close to the skin as possible. Then find somewhere flat where I can lie down."
"I can do that," Castiel said, nodding.
"Now would be a good time, Cas."
"Right."
Castiel touched the branch near Dean's side, and it broke with an audible click. Dean hissed and shuddered, and then Castiel touched two fingers to Dean's forehead. Instantly he was on the forest floor on a bed of pine needles, Castiel bending over him with a worried look on his face.
"Oh God, prop me up, prop me up!" Dean gasped.
Castiel dropped to his knees, sat down with his legs outstretched, and gently lifted Dean's head and shoulders into his lap. He held Dean as he wheezed and coughed, splattering the sleeve of Castiel's trench coat with blood.
"Cas...the hole..." Dean paused to grimace, and then continued, "in my side, put your ear close to it and tell me...what you hear."
Castiel held Dean aloft with one hand and put his head close to Dean's blood-soaked black T-shirt.
"I can hear air passing through the hole, along with a sucking sound."
"The blood...in the wound, is it frothy? Like, bubbles in it?"
Castiel peered down again.
"Yes," he answered in a concerned tone. "What does that indicate?"
"It means there's...air gettin' into...my...chest cavity." Dean took another labored breath. "Cas, you need to help me right away, or I'm not...gonna have to worry about...end of the world..."
"The Host wouldn't let you die," Castiel said.
"They...don't...know where I am."
Castiel frowned at this obvious problem. "What should I do, Dean?"
"How big...the hole?" Dean gasped.
"At least two inches, maybe three," Castiel said.
"Front seat of car...get gummi bears."
"Are you hungry?"
Dean shook his head. "Fix wound. Go. Gummi bears. And in the...trunk, roll of tape," he wheezed. "Go. Now."
Castiel took a moment to move a fallen tree trunk next to Dean so that he could prop himself up on it. Within moments Castiel returned with the roll of tape and a cellophane bag of gummi bears.
"Wipe hole." Dean motioned to the bag of candy. "Cut sides open. You need...place it over the hole, and then...then tape on three sides. Try to work...around...branch. Understand?"
Castiel nodded. "I need for you to lie down. I'm sorry."
Dean reached out for Castiel to help slide him to the forest floor. He was extremely pale and kept gasping for breath.
Castiel worked quickly, first pulling off his tie and using it to wipe around the wound as best as he could. He tore open the bag of candy and placed the wrapper over the entire wound, covering the bit of leftover branch completely. The duct tape, thankfully, was strong enough to stick to Dean's skin, and Castiel used strips of it to secure three sides of the wrapper.
Castiel could then notice the wrapper being drawn taut against Dean's skin every time he inhaled, and when he exhaled air escaped through the unfastened edge. The plastic prevented air from entering Dean's chest cavity, allowing his lung to inflate properly.
Dean was still terribly pale, but his breathing immediately improved and didn't seem as labored. Castiel glanced in the direction of the Impala, and Dean's duffel materialized at his feet. He found a clean T-shirt and pressed it to the wound, taking care not to obstruct the one free edge of the dressing.
Castiel took off his trench coat and draped it over Dean, and then lifted him back into his lap.
"Hold me so the wound is down. Makes breathin' easier," Dean instructed.
Castiel shifted to place Dean's head against his shoulder, and cradled his arms around him to keep Dean in position, propped up against Castiel's body.
"Ain't this cozy."
"I know your concern about 'personal space,' Dean, but if you can think of a better way..."
"No, it's fine," Dean said, looking up at him. "I hurt too much to care."
"Where is the first aid kit?" Castiel asked.
"Need to refill it," Dean muttered miserably. "It's empty."
"That's rather short-sighted of you, considering your history."
"You can just take me to the nearest hospital, Cas."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I need to know where I'm going. A location, at least. I can't simply appear somewhere, Dean. I must be summoned, or know where something is. For me to travel without a destination is akin to closing your eyes and crossing the street in the middle of traffic."
"Oh."
"But I can stand on the highway and send someone to your location..."
"No, you can't leave me, Cas. You need to make sure I don't pass out or go into shock, or have the air build up in my chest again. If that happens my heart could stop."
"I understand." He paused in thought. "Where is your cellular phone?"
"In my pocket, with no reception."
"And where is Sam?"
"Not far behind me on the highway."
"Perhaps I can leave a sign to direct him to your location."
"Yeah, that's about our only option at this point."
Castiel turned his head in the direction of the highway. "I've set a tree alight."
"You set a tree on fire?"
"No, alight. It will glow so that a passerby may see it."
"Oh."
They were quiet for a moment, with just the sounds of the forest and the odd rattle of the cellophane wrapper making noise every time Dean breathed.
"Next time, remind me to get into a life-or-death situation where there's cell phone coverage," Dean said humorlessly.
"That seems preferable."
Dean sighed. "Sure is dark out here, isn't it?"
"The sun has gone down, Dean," Castiel pointed out, cocking his head in confusion.
"I meant maybe you could make a fire. I'm startin' to get cold."
Castiel waved his hand so that a nearby pile of twigs caught fire. He placed an extra jacket from Dean's duffel on top of him as well.
"Listen, I know you're not much for conversation, Cas, but you're gonna have to talk to me to keep me awake. It's the only way to make sure I don't, y'know, bleed to death or stop breathin'."
"Are you in much pain?"
"A little, but I'm still bleedin' and I don't how deep this impaled branch goes. I hope Sammy gets here sooner rather than later."
"As do I. Are you warm enough now?"
"I guess."
Castiel made the fire burn hotter and settled his arms in a more comfortable position around Dean. "I can keep you warmer if you promise not to touch."
"Touch what?"
"My wings. I can drape them over you as long as you don't try to touch them."
"Why not?" Dean asked.
"What I showed you when we first met was a...suggestion to prove who I was. Just as you couldn't see my true form, you also can't see the actual composition of the alae angelorum."
"What would happen if I touched them? Are they sharp? Soft? Cold? Hot? Would I burn my fingers?"
Castiel looked down at him. "I find you are much easier to get along with when you're not constantly arguing with me or questioning everything I say."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Well?"
"The pennae are not sharp, nor cold. They are similar to feathers you've seen on Earth, but..." Castiel sighed. "Dean, this is very difficult to describe."
"Humor me."
"They are intense with energy. They wouldn't merely burn you. I believe the word 'melt' is more appropriate."
"I think I'm fine right here, then," Dean said, making a face.
"I will do my best to keep you conscious, Dean."
"So talk to me, Cas."
"About what?"
"Um, how about cars? What do you know about cars?"
Castiel frowned. "The roof of the '67 Chevy Impala is not impervious to puncture by tree branches."
Dean chuckled, and then coughed painfully. "Don't make me laugh!"
"I'm sorry. That wasn't meant to be funny."
"I know, Cas, I know. Okay, tell me how you found me here."
"You called and I answered. You may be hidden because of the sigils, but you are never alone."
Dean shifted a little in Castiel's arms so he could see him better. "What does that mean, exactly?"
"I have touched your soul, and thus we are bound by the power of Heaven," Castiel explained.
"You mean because you rescued me from Hell you're attached to me forever?"
Castiel met his eyes. "Yes."
"Did you really want that?"
"There is no 'want' in Heaven, Dean. It simply is."
"What about now? Would you still blindly follow orders? Would you do it knowing what you do now?"
Castiel looked away for a moment.
"Yes."
"Even though you rebelled?"
"I would never allow you to suffer such pain and torment if it was within my power to prevent it," Castiel answered. "I would again lay siege to Hell, because of my rebellion."
"Why is that?"
"You deserved to be saved," Castiel said, as he checked the dressing on Dean's wound.
"'Deserved to be saved.' Everyone keeps sayin' that. That's not why I'm here, Cas. You know it and I know it. I'm only alive and kickin' because Heaven needs me to quarterback their freakin' holy war."
"You are more than just Michael's weapon, more than a prophetic piece in Heaven's endgame." Castiel shook his head. "I don't understand why you can't see that."
"That's not what you used to think," Dean pointed out.
"That was when I was merely your messenger. I was following orders, doing what was asked of me by the garrison..."
"And you rebelled when you realized they were yankin' your chain."
"No, because other things became more important to me than following orders."
"Like what? Free will? The chance to make your own decisions for once? A way to get back at them for centuries of servitude?"
"I still serve Heaven with all my heart, despite the missteps of my more...fanatical brethren."
"Then what?"
Castiel didn't answer, and looked away.
Dean reached over to touch Castiel's arm. "What, Cas?"
You."
"What do you mean, 'me'?" Dean asked, confused.
"I turned my face from Heaven not because of the duplicity of my brothers and sisters, nor because I sought to be free of the constraints of my orders, but to be with you, Dean."
"I don't..."
"My superiors were correct in thinking that I had become too attached to the human in my charge."
"You rebelled for me," Dean confirmed, "is that what you're sayin'?"
"Yes."
"For me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Castiel motioned with his hand and the small fire blazed hotter. "I prostrated myself before the almighty powers of the Host and made a solemn vow to raise you from damnation, and to protect you thereafter. To be chosen was a great responsibility, but I discovered that you gave something to me in return: the ability to think -- and feel -- for myself. That is powerful indeed."
"Y'know," Dean said after a moment's thought, "I could never tell Sammy, but it was like...a piece of me was missing when I thought you were dead."
"That's due to our connection through the Host."
"No, I mean you sort of grew on me, Cas, havin' you around. I got used to it. It was nice, for a change, to have someone lookin' out for me. Even though you were kind of a douche in the beginning, I knew you cared."
"Of course I cared."
Dean smiled. "It needed to be said. I felt guilty when you sacrificed yourself for me. After...everything that happened."
"What 'everything' is that?" Castiel asked.
"After the way I treated you for so long," Dean answered, staring at the fire. "I was kind of an asshole. And then you went and...I couldn't believe you did that, Cas. Didn't you think about what would happen?"
"I made sure you could attempt to stop Sam," Castiel replied, gently lifting the trench coat and replacing the T-shirt sodden with blood with a fresh one.
"But you knew the archangels would be there to smite you back to kingdom come," Dean said, wincing as the dressing was changed. "Why'd you do it?"
"I believe I've already explained myself."
"For me."
"You are selfless, and caring, and worthy of happiness, despite what you may believe. I am able to see through the self-hatred and doubt to the radiant soul beneath, and I'd rather dwell in that in rebellion than in the subservience of Heaven."
Dean looked up at him.
"That sounds an awful lot like love, Cas."
"It does," he admitted after a thought, "but that is how I feel. I'm not used to expressing myself; I apologize if I've done so in an unseemly manner."
"No, it's...it's okay. Actually, the honesty is a refreshing change," Dean chuckled, and then grimaced, forgetting his injury. "I guess I was too busy being full of myself to think about how you felt."
"It's not uncommon in the human male."
Dean smirked. "And you say you don't know much about us."
Castiel's raised eyebrow was the only thing indicating he was debating the seriousness of Dean's statement.
The fire crackled and popped, sending sparks high into the night air. Dean watched the shadows play across Castiel's unshaven cheeks and chapped bottom lip, and wondered how one of the most powerful supernatural beings he had ever encountered had basically given up everything he'd ever known and taken to the road with him.
Dean also pondered whether he was worthy of such loyalty. He wasn't particularly honest; he was quick to anger; he probably drank too much; and he was still racked with guilt over jump-starting the end of the world, along with a hundred other self-loathing reasons he had that caused him constant doubt.
He didn't know what the future held, if this whole apocalypse thing was really going to end with hellfire and Lucifer in a Sammy suit, but Castiel was right there beside him throughout all of it. For the first time in his life someone other than Sam was sticking by him when the shit hit the fan, and that made him feel proud to have Castiel on his team. Cas, his personal guardian angel, a super-powered being who gave up Heaven to be with him.
Then he thought about how he often worried when Castiel wasn't around when he should be, or how he missed him when he was gone, or that irritating yet endearing way he would simply blink away when they were in the midst of a conversation, or the way Dean enjoyed trying to make him laugh despite Castiel's lack of understanding about humor.
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Cas."
"You were quiet. I wanted to be sure you remained awake," Castiel said.
"I am. Just thinkin'."
"About what?"
"How important you are to me, and how I miss you when you're not around," Dean answered.
"What does that mean, Dean?"
"That you convinced me to finally say out loud something I've probably been feelin' since the moment we met."
"I don't understand," Castiel said, frowning.
"I love you too, you giant feather duster."
"I believe your honesty is a refreshing change as well." Castiel cocked his head and frowned. "Unless I'm mistaken."
"No, you're not. I'm not too good at expressin' myself, either."
Castiel pulled his trench coat higher over Dean's shoulders, and in the process leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Dean's forehead.
"Love is a curious thing," remarked Castiel.
Dean grinned. "Yeah."
"Dean!"
"What was that?" asked Dean.
"Dean!"
"I believe Sam has found us," Castiel said.
"Where are you? Shout or something!"
"Cas, I can't call out. Make sure he knows where we are."
Castiel waved his hand, and one by one the pine trees leading to their position in the forest lit up in an otherworldly glow. "We're here, Sam!"
"I see it, Cas! I'm coming!"
"Sam is on his way, Dean."
"Good," Dean said, and winced.
"Cas?"
"Here, Sam!"
At that Sam came running up. "Dean! Oh my God, what happened?"
"Dean flipped the Impala and was impaled by a tree branch." Castiel kept his voice calm, but he lifted the trench coat to show Sam how urgent the situation was. "We need to get him to a hospital."
"Hey, Sammy," said Dean weakly.
"I heard reports over the police scanner of a weird glow in the woods, and when you didn't show up I thought I'd better check it out," Sam said by way of explanation. "There are cop cars all over the highway."
Castiel waved his hand and the trees returned to their normal state. "Show them where we are, Sam," Castiel said, his voice lowered. "I can't leave him and I'm unable to bring him to a hospital if I don't know where it is."
Then Castiel mouthed "Hurry." Sam nodded and ran off.
"Cas?"
"Yes, Dean. The police are coming to take you to a hospital."
"What about you?"
"Both Sam and I will be at your bedside until you've recovered," Castiel answered.
Dean motioned with his hand to draw Castiel closer. When he bent down Dean kissed him on the forehead.
"That's for all the times I never said thank you," he explained. Then he kissed Castiel's eyes. "That's for giving up your life and everything you knew." Finally he drew Castiel into a long, lingering kiss on his lips.
"And what was that for?" Castiel asked.
"The future, which might not be as bad as I think."
Finis
REFERENCES
1. Pneumothorax at Wikipedia
2. Brookside Press: Treat a Chest Wound
3. How to treat a sucking chest wound at eHow
4. PowerPoint presentation on chest wounds
5. Yahoo.com answer to wings of an angel in Latin
6. Three Rivers, Ore. on Google Maps
Author: rhymephile
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel UST, H/C; and a bit of Sam
Spoilers: Set between episodes 504 and 505
Warnings: Some blood and slight language
Word Count: 4066
Summary: When Dean flips the Impala and finds himself alone and injured in the woods, he reaches out for the one person he knows will always be there.
Author's Note Title taken from the Mindy Smith song "Peace of Mind." I doubt Dean would have been doing much talking in his condition, but go with it. References at the end of the story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Peace of Mind and a Gentle Hand" (1/1)
By RhymePhile
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the leaves next to his ear that told him something was wrong.
He thought about this, wondering why he could hear a warbler piping a tune that wasn't what he'd had on the stereo moments ago. The air around him was still, but it carried the contradictory scents of musky earth and motor oil, neither of which went together in any positive way.
There was another smell too, a thick, heavy odor that meant he was definitely in trouble: Blood.
"Well, shit," Dean muttered.
He remembered leaving the motel before Sam, itching for the hunt, telling him they'd be heading up Route 97 to Three Rivers, Oregon, to investigate reports of a hairy creature roaming the woods. Sam still had the gold Lincoln Continental and was more than happy to be driving for once, so he let Dean go off in the Impala alone.
Dean opened his eyes and instantly closed them again. He was upside down, still strapped into the Impala's seatbelt. She was resting on her roof, smashed down into the dirt and pine needles of the forest floor. If he weren't in such a terrible predicament, it might be beautiful. Dusk was falling, casting late-day shadows across the magnificent pine trees that surrounded him.
How in the hell did he get here? The highway was only three lanes, with the two on the right separated from the third by a metal divider. No one had even passed him for miles, except when that deer...oh, right, he thought. He hit the deer. Damn, it must have been a big one to cause him to smash into the trees and flip the Impala.
His poor baby. He'd just washed her, too. He could feel the dashboard touching his knees, and the windshield had burst in on the passenger side from where the deer had hit and bounced off. Knowing Sam would have been sitting there, he didn't regret his decision to drive alone.
Reaching down into his left pocket he was able to maneuver a hand to reach his cell phone. The interior of the Impala was so crumpled he had difficulty holding it up, only to see that he had no reception whatsoever.
He tried to sigh in irritation, except it sounded more wheezy and hissy than normal, and a pain exploded along his right side.
Part of the roof was buckled near his head, so he couldn't turn to see what was causing the pain. He fought down the urge to panic, trying in vain to ignore the fact that he was alone, in an upside-down car, in the middle of the forest, with no cell phone, and apparently bleeding, since the smell was stronger now.
Sam would have to see where he went off the road, right? He wasn't that far behind him. Dean tried to remember what Sam had said before he left, something about a shower and grabbing dinner, but whatever it was Dean had only been half-listening as usual.
Now what? He pushed against the warped steering wheel, hoping the Impala's horn would sound. All he heard in response were the increased noises of a darkening forest. He tried to suck in a lungful of air to shout, but that only caused a blinding pain to spread across his chest that made him almost pass out.
Passing out would be bad in this situation, he reasoned with himself. He needed to stay alert and assess the situation. Sam would come to his rescue. He just had to wait, and try to stay calm.
Dean wondered where Cas was at that moment. If he were riding along with him in the Impala as he had been the past few weeks, he would have winked out of the car like a ghost and then reappeared to lend him a hand with this mess.
"I could really use you now, Cas," Dean said out loud.
"Hello, Dean," said a voice to his left, after which the upside-down head of Castiel popped into view.
Dean squinted. "I'm not dreamin', am I?"
"I highly doubt you'd choose to dream yourself into a car wreck, despite your propensity for depressing thoughts."
"Yeah, you're right. The apocalypse is bad enough."
"I see you need my help," Castiel said.
"Is it obvious?" he asked sarcastically. "How did you find me?"
"You called."
"What about the mojo carved into my ribs?" Dean asked.
"Do you want to hear the explanation, or would you rather be freed from your crushed vehicle?"
"Yeah, shuttin' up now," Dean said, agreeing.
Castiel reached up to Dean's forehead with two fingers outstretched. "I can easily..."
"Wait!"
"What is it?"
"You need to crawl over to the passenger side before you start zippin' me around the forest here, Cas. I can't move and I can smell blood."
Castiel cocked his head quizzically, and then appeared next to Dean inside the Impala.
"You're impaled on a tree branch," Castiel said firmly, but with a hint of worry in his voice. "It seems to have pierced the roof when the car landed, and punctured your side."
"Did you just say 'impaled'?"
"Yes."
"Great."
"What shall I do?"
"Well now that you can see what it is, do your I Dream of Jeannie thing and get me the hell out of here!" Dean said impatiently. "I'm startin' to have trouble breathing."
"But Dean, I may injure you further if I move you suddenly. I'm still cut off from Heaven as you recall. I can't heal you."
"Shit," he hissed, "I forgot. Okay, how much do you know about the human body, Cas?"
"I haven't been among humans as long as some of my brethren, so only what I've been exposed to through inhabiting Jimmy," Castiel answered. "Along with what I know about you."
"Which isn't all that much, considering you can heal yourself. Or Jimmy. Whatever. Wait, what do you know about me?"
"Your poor eating habits, the amount of scars covering your body, the curious way you scratch yourself in the morning..."
"You can see all that?" Dean asked incredulously.
"When I know where you are."
"That's..." Dean paused to cough, a harsh, wet, rattling noise. "Oh, that's not a good sound..."
Dean's voice trailed off, things went blurry, and then he felt Castiel touching his face.
"Dean. Dean. Please don't fall into unconsciousness. I don't know what to do."
"Whuh?"
Castiel patted Dean's cheek a little more forcefully. "I said not to drift into unconsciousness. I'm ill-equipped to deal with this situation and I need you to tell me what to do."
"My guardian angel needs help savin' me," Dean grinned, coming around again.
"This isn't funny, Dean."
"Okay," he grunted, trying to take shallow breaths, "first, don't pull whatever it is that's sticking in me out, got it?"
"Yes."
"I assume you can, y'know, blink me out of the car, right?"
"Yes."
"Then you need to break off the branch impaling me as close to the skin as possible. Then find somewhere flat where I can lie down."
"I can do that," Castiel said, nodding.
"Now would be a good time, Cas."
"Right."
Castiel touched the branch near Dean's side, and it broke with an audible click. Dean hissed and shuddered, and then Castiel touched two fingers to Dean's forehead. Instantly he was on the forest floor on a bed of pine needles, Castiel bending over him with a worried look on his face.
"Oh God, prop me up, prop me up!" Dean gasped.
Castiel dropped to his knees, sat down with his legs outstretched, and gently lifted Dean's head and shoulders into his lap. He held Dean as he wheezed and coughed, splattering the sleeve of Castiel's trench coat with blood.
"Cas...the hole..." Dean paused to grimace, and then continued, "in my side, put your ear close to it and tell me...what you hear."
Castiel held Dean aloft with one hand and put his head close to Dean's blood-soaked black T-shirt.
"I can hear air passing through the hole, along with a sucking sound."
"The blood...in the wound, is it frothy? Like, bubbles in it?"
Castiel peered down again.
"Yes," he answered in a concerned tone. "What does that indicate?"
"It means there's...air gettin' into...my...chest cavity." Dean took another labored breath. "Cas, you need to help me right away, or I'm not...gonna have to worry about...end of the world..."
"The Host wouldn't let you die," Castiel said.
"They...don't...know where I am."
Castiel frowned at this obvious problem. "What should I do, Dean?"
"How big...the hole?" Dean gasped.
"At least two inches, maybe three," Castiel said.
"Front seat of car...get gummi bears."
"Are you hungry?"
Dean shook his head. "Fix wound. Go. Gummi bears. And in the...trunk, roll of tape," he wheezed. "Go. Now."
Castiel took a moment to move a fallen tree trunk next to Dean so that he could prop himself up on it. Within moments Castiel returned with the roll of tape and a cellophane bag of gummi bears.
"Wipe hole." Dean motioned to the bag of candy. "Cut sides open. You need...place it over the hole, and then...then tape on three sides. Try to work...around...branch. Understand?"
Castiel nodded. "I need for you to lie down. I'm sorry."
Dean reached out for Castiel to help slide him to the forest floor. He was extremely pale and kept gasping for breath.
Castiel worked quickly, first pulling off his tie and using it to wipe around the wound as best as he could. He tore open the bag of candy and placed the wrapper over the entire wound, covering the bit of leftover branch completely. The duct tape, thankfully, was strong enough to stick to Dean's skin, and Castiel used strips of it to secure three sides of the wrapper.
Castiel could then notice the wrapper being drawn taut against Dean's skin every time he inhaled, and when he exhaled air escaped through the unfastened edge. The plastic prevented air from entering Dean's chest cavity, allowing his lung to inflate properly.
Dean was still terribly pale, but his breathing immediately improved and didn't seem as labored. Castiel glanced in the direction of the Impala, and Dean's duffel materialized at his feet. He found a clean T-shirt and pressed it to the wound, taking care not to obstruct the one free edge of the dressing.
Castiel took off his trench coat and draped it over Dean, and then lifted him back into his lap.
"Hold me so the wound is down. Makes breathin' easier," Dean instructed.
Castiel shifted to place Dean's head against his shoulder, and cradled his arms around him to keep Dean in position, propped up against Castiel's body.
"Ain't this cozy."
"I know your concern about 'personal space,' Dean, but if you can think of a better way..."
"No, it's fine," Dean said, looking up at him. "I hurt too much to care."
"Where is the first aid kit?" Castiel asked.
"Need to refill it," Dean muttered miserably. "It's empty."
"That's rather short-sighted of you, considering your history."
"You can just take me to the nearest hospital, Cas."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I need to know where I'm going. A location, at least. I can't simply appear somewhere, Dean. I must be summoned, or know where something is. For me to travel without a destination is akin to closing your eyes and crossing the street in the middle of traffic."
"Oh."
"But I can stand on the highway and send someone to your location..."
"No, you can't leave me, Cas. You need to make sure I don't pass out or go into shock, or have the air build up in my chest again. If that happens my heart could stop."
"I understand." He paused in thought. "Where is your cellular phone?"
"In my pocket, with no reception."
"And where is Sam?"
"Not far behind me on the highway."
"Perhaps I can leave a sign to direct him to your location."
"Yeah, that's about our only option at this point."
Castiel turned his head in the direction of the highway. "I've set a tree alight."
"You set a tree on fire?"
"No, alight. It will glow so that a passerby may see it."
"Oh."
They were quiet for a moment, with just the sounds of the forest and the odd rattle of the cellophane wrapper making noise every time Dean breathed.
"Next time, remind me to get into a life-or-death situation where there's cell phone coverage," Dean said humorlessly.
"That seems preferable."
Dean sighed. "Sure is dark out here, isn't it?"
"The sun has gone down, Dean," Castiel pointed out, cocking his head in confusion.
"I meant maybe you could make a fire. I'm startin' to get cold."
Castiel waved his hand so that a nearby pile of twigs caught fire. He placed an extra jacket from Dean's duffel on top of him as well.
"Listen, I know you're not much for conversation, Cas, but you're gonna have to talk to me to keep me awake. It's the only way to make sure I don't, y'know, bleed to death or stop breathin'."
"Are you in much pain?"
"A little, but I'm still bleedin' and I don't how deep this impaled branch goes. I hope Sammy gets here sooner rather than later."
"As do I. Are you warm enough now?"
"I guess."
Castiel made the fire burn hotter and settled his arms in a more comfortable position around Dean. "I can keep you warmer if you promise not to touch."
"Touch what?"
"My wings. I can drape them over you as long as you don't try to touch them."
"Why not?" Dean asked.
"What I showed you when we first met was a...suggestion to prove who I was. Just as you couldn't see my true form, you also can't see the actual composition of the alae angelorum."
"What would happen if I touched them? Are they sharp? Soft? Cold? Hot? Would I burn my fingers?"
Castiel looked down at him. "I find you are much easier to get along with when you're not constantly arguing with me or questioning everything I say."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Well?"
"The pennae are not sharp, nor cold. They are similar to feathers you've seen on Earth, but..." Castiel sighed. "Dean, this is very difficult to describe."
"Humor me."
"They are intense with energy. They wouldn't merely burn you. I believe the word 'melt' is more appropriate."
"I think I'm fine right here, then," Dean said, making a face.
"I will do my best to keep you conscious, Dean."
"So talk to me, Cas."
"About what?"
"Um, how about cars? What do you know about cars?"
Castiel frowned. "The roof of the '67 Chevy Impala is not impervious to puncture by tree branches."
Dean chuckled, and then coughed painfully. "Don't make me laugh!"
"I'm sorry. That wasn't meant to be funny."
"I know, Cas, I know. Okay, tell me how you found me here."
"You called and I answered. You may be hidden because of the sigils, but you are never alone."
Dean shifted a little in Castiel's arms so he could see him better. "What does that mean, exactly?"
"I have touched your soul, and thus we are bound by the power of Heaven," Castiel explained.
"You mean because you rescued me from Hell you're attached to me forever?"
Castiel met his eyes. "Yes."
"Did you really want that?"
"There is no 'want' in Heaven, Dean. It simply is."
"What about now? Would you still blindly follow orders? Would you do it knowing what you do now?"
Castiel looked away for a moment.
"Yes."
"Even though you rebelled?"
"I would never allow you to suffer such pain and torment if it was within my power to prevent it," Castiel answered. "I would again lay siege to Hell, because of my rebellion."
"Why is that?"
"You deserved to be saved," Castiel said, as he checked the dressing on Dean's wound.
"'Deserved to be saved.' Everyone keeps sayin' that. That's not why I'm here, Cas. You know it and I know it. I'm only alive and kickin' because Heaven needs me to quarterback their freakin' holy war."
"You are more than just Michael's weapon, more than a prophetic piece in Heaven's endgame." Castiel shook his head. "I don't understand why you can't see that."
"That's not what you used to think," Dean pointed out.
"That was when I was merely your messenger. I was following orders, doing what was asked of me by the garrison..."
"And you rebelled when you realized they were yankin' your chain."
"No, because other things became more important to me than following orders."
"Like what? Free will? The chance to make your own decisions for once? A way to get back at them for centuries of servitude?"
"I still serve Heaven with all my heart, despite the missteps of my more...fanatical brethren."
"Then what?"
Castiel didn't answer, and looked away.
Dean reached over to touch Castiel's arm. "What, Cas?"
You."
"What do you mean, 'me'?" Dean asked, confused.
"I turned my face from Heaven not because of the duplicity of my brothers and sisters, nor because I sought to be free of the constraints of my orders, but to be with you, Dean."
"I don't..."
"My superiors were correct in thinking that I had become too attached to the human in my charge."
"You rebelled for me," Dean confirmed, "is that what you're sayin'?"
"Yes."
"For me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Castiel motioned with his hand and the small fire blazed hotter. "I prostrated myself before the almighty powers of the Host and made a solemn vow to raise you from damnation, and to protect you thereafter. To be chosen was a great responsibility, but I discovered that you gave something to me in return: the ability to think -- and feel -- for myself. That is powerful indeed."
"Y'know," Dean said after a moment's thought, "I could never tell Sammy, but it was like...a piece of me was missing when I thought you were dead."
"That's due to our connection through the Host."
"No, I mean you sort of grew on me, Cas, havin' you around. I got used to it. It was nice, for a change, to have someone lookin' out for me. Even though you were kind of a douche in the beginning, I knew you cared."
"Of course I cared."
Dean smiled. "It needed to be said. I felt guilty when you sacrificed yourself for me. After...everything that happened."
"What 'everything' is that?" Castiel asked.
"After the way I treated you for so long," Dean answered, staring at the fire. "I was kind of an asshole. And then you went and...I couldn't believe you did that, Cas. Didn't you think about what would happen?"
"I made sure you could attempt to stop Sam," Castiel replied, gently lifting the trench coat and replacing the T-shirt sodden with blood with a fresh one.
"But you knew the archangels would be there to smite you back to kingdom come," Dean said, wincing as the dressing was changed. "Why'd you do it?"
"I believe I've already explained myself."
"For me."
"You are selfless, and caring, and worthy of happiness, despite what you may believe. I am able to see through the self-hatred and doubt to the radiant soul beneath, and I'd rather dwell in that in rebellion than in the subservience of Heaven."
Dean looked up at him.
"That sounds an awful lot like love, Cas."
"It does," he admitted after a thought, "but that is how I feel. I'm not used to expressing myself; I apologize if I've done so in an unseemly manner."
"No, it's...it's okay. Actually, the honesty is a refreshing change," Dean chuckled, and then grimaced, forgetting his injury. "I guess I was too busy being full of myself to think about how you felt."
"It's not uncommon in the human male."
Dean smirked. "And you say you don't know much about us."
Castiel's raised eyebrow was the only thing indicating he was debating the seriousness of Dean's statement.
The fire crackled and popped, sending sparks high into the night air. Dean watched the shadows play across Castiel's unshaven cheeks and chapped bottom lip, and wondered how one of the most powerful supernatural beings he had ever encountered had basically given up everything he'd ever known and taken to the road with him.
Dean also pondered whether he was worthy of such loyalty. He wasn't particularly honest; he was quick to anger; he probably drank too much; and he was still racked with guilt over jump-starting the end of the world, along with a hundred other self-loathing reasons he had that caused him constant doubt.
He didn't know what the future held, if this whole apocalypse thing was really going to end with hellfire and Lucifer in a Sammy suit, but Castiel was right there beside him throughout all of it. For the first time in his life someone other than Sam was sticking by him when the shit hit the fan, and that made him feel proud to have Castiel on his team. Cas, his personal guardian angel, a super-powered being who gave up Heaven to be with him.
Then he thought about how he often worried when Castiel wasn't around when he should be, or how he missed him when he was gone, or that irritating yet endearing way he would simply blink away when they were in the midst of a conversation, or the way Dean enjoyed trying to make him laugh despite Castiel's lack of understanding about humor.
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Cas."
"You were quiet. I wanted to be sure you remained awake," Castiel said.
"I am. Just thinkin'."
"About what?"
"How important you are to me, and how I miss you when you're not around," Dean answered.
"What does that mean, Dean?"
"That you convinced me to finally say out loud something I've probably been feelin' since the moment we met."
"I don't understand," Castiel said, frowning.
"I love you too, you giant feather duster."
"I believe your honesty is a refreshing change as well." Castiel cocked his head and frowned. "Unless I'm mistaken."
"No, you're not. I'm not too good at expressin' myself, either."
Castiel pulled his trench coat higher over Dean's shoulders, and in the process leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Dean's forehead.
"Love is a curious thing," remarked Castiel.
Dean grinned. "Yeah."
"Dean!"
"What was that?" asked Dean.
"Dean!"
"I believe Sam has found us," Castiel said.
"Where are you? Shout or something!"
"Cas, I can't call out. Make sure he knows where we are."
Castiel waved his hand, and one by one the pine trees leading to their position in the forest lit up in an otherworldly glow. "We're here, Sam!"
"I see it, Cas! I'm coming!"
"Sam is on his way, Dean."
"Good," Dean said, and winced.
"Cas?"
"Here, Sam!"
At that Sam came running up. "Dean! Oh my God, what happened?"
"Dean flipped the Impala and was impaled by a tree branch." Castiel kept his voice calm, but he lifted the trench coat to show Sam how urgent the situation was. "We need to get him to a hospital."
"Hey, Sammy," said Dean weakly.
"I heard reports over the police scanner of a weird glow in the woods, and when you didn't show up I thought I'd better check it out," Sam said by way of explanation. "There are cop cars all over the highway."
Castiel waved his hand and the trees returned to their normal state. "Show them where we are, Sam," Castiel said, his voice lowered. "I can't leave him and I'm unable to bring him to a hospital if I don't know where it is."
Then Castiel mouthed "Hurry." Sam nodded and ran off.
"Cas?"
"Yes, Dean. The police are coming to take you to a hospital."
"What about you?"
"Both Sam and I will be at your bedside until you've recovered," Castiel answered.
Dean motioned with his hand to draw Castiel closer. When he bent down Dean kissed him on the forehead.
"That's for all the times I never said thank you," he explained. Then he kissed Castiel's eyes. "That's for giving up your life and everything you knew." Finally he drew Castiel into a long, lingering kiss on his lips.
"And what was that for?" Castiel asked.
"The future, which might not be as bad as I think."
Finis
REFERENCES
1. Pneumothorax at Wikipedia
2. Brookside Press: Treat a Chest Wound
3. How to treat a sucking chest wound at eHow
4. PowerPoint presentation on chest wounds
5. Yahoo.com answer to wings of an angel in Latin
6. Three Rivers, Ore. on Google Maps