This is just a little one-shot that I thought of when I was writing my other one shot "Not Just a Substitute". It's kind of a long the same lines, but isn't connected in anyway. I guess this could be considered AU because it's not really linked to any episode, but is set in season 5 after Dean and Sam part ways. I just wanted to write another Cas and Dean fic, a little more angsty than "Not Just a Substitute". There's no real purpose to it, just a bit of an exploration into Cas' character and his relationship to the Winchesters and how he never seems to realize he means that much to them. Oh well, enough rambling. As always no slash, there needs to be way more Dean and Cas stories that are not slash.

Disclaimer: do not own the show or characters obviously.

Family Doesn't End With Blood

A Supernatural Fanfic

Castiel still had trouble figuring out all the nuances of the human world and how things were done. Everything just seemed so unnecessarily complicated, and as many times as Dean or Sam tried to explain things to him, he never seemed to quite be able to understand. One of those things was the cell phone Dean had bought him. He did really like that he could contact Dean when he needed to, even if he was not in the same room with him. It was very convenient. But it was hard to figure out. He knew how to call Dean, and how to answer calls, but that was about as much as he knew. The only people who ever called him were Dean and Sam, though now that Sam was off on his own, he didn't expect to get any calls from him. But he was supposed to get a call from Dean on where to meet him, and so far, he hadn't gotten that either.

They had been working a job together, and Dean had gone off to do some scoping while Castiel took charge of another lead. It had been a complicated case so far, what with one thing and another, and Castiel knew that Dean wished Sam was there. He never said it, but the angel knew the hunter well enough by now. He knew he wasn't as good at going on hunts as Sam was, and though he and Dean had fought and worked together on several occasions, there was not the years of experience and understanding as there was between the Winchester brothers. Castiel understood that well enough. It was like that in the garrison with his own brothers, but there was something much more between Sam and Dean than there had ever been between Castiel and his family. There was always the loyalty, true, but it was not the same as he had witnessed between Dean and his brother, even now when they weren't on the best terms, he knew that if the other was in trouble they wouldn't think twice about going to help them. Castiel had always felt that way about his brothers, but the feeling had rarely been reciprocated. He had been intrigued by the bond that Sam and Dean shared, and that they were willing to extend to him even though he didn't really know why. It also made him long to share that bond with someone, which had been one of the many reasons that led to his defense of the Winchesters and his defiance in the first place.

And now he was worried, because Dean was supposed to have called him an hour ago and he hadn't. He wished that he could find him, but with the warding it was impossible. Perhaps it wasn't anything to worry about. Maybe the phone had 'low bars' as he had heard Sam say once, which he had learned meant calls couldn't go through.

But then the phone suddenly came to life in his hand and he pressed the button to talk.

"Dean?" he asked. "Where are you?"

"Hello, is this…Cas?" a woman's voice that was clearly not Dean's came onto the other end of the phone.

Castiel stiffened, clenching the phone tight in his hand. "Who is this? What have you done with Dean?"

"Sir, please, if you could calm down and let me explain. Your friend, Dean, was found about half an hour ago in a parking lot, and someone called an ambulance for him. He's been injured pretty badly. I found your number in his phone as an emergency contact."

Castiel felt a strange discomfort in his chest. He had come to know that feeling as worry; one of those new human feelings that were popping up more and more as his powers receded. "Is he all right? Where is he?"

"He's at the general hospital on Fourth Street," the woman said on the other end of the phone. "You can ask for him at the front desk."

Castiel thanked her and ended the call. In another second he was standing in front of the hospital and hurried inside. He wasn't really sure what to do, but he grabbed the first person he saw as soon as he got into the lobby.

"I'm here to see Dean, I was told he was admitted here."

"Last name?" the man asked, looking down at a clipboard.

Castiel hesitated. What name had Dean used on this job? What ID would he have had in his pocket?

"Smith," Castiel said, hoping that was right.

The man looked through his notes. "Yeah, we have a Dean Smith admitted about half an hour ago. He went in for emergency surgery; collapsed lung, gun shot wound to the chest. EMTs think it might have been a mugging gone wrong."

"Can I see him?" Castiel asked, knowing how much Dean hated hospitals, and thinking of him there alone and hurt so badly. And him being hurt in the first place without anyone to watch his back.

"Sir, he's just out of surgery, and it's a family only policy," the doctor said, looking Castiel up and down.

"I'm…I'm his brother," Castiel said. He surprised himself with how easy it was to lie. He had always been a terrible liar. But then he realized that it wasn't really a lie at all. He had come to think of Dean as his brother, and now when Sam wasn't there for Dean, he had to be the one to take care of him.

The doctor looked skeptical. "Can I see some ID?"

"I don't have any, I came here as soon as I heard," Castiel told him, wondering if he would have to force the man to show him where they were keeping Dean. "Please, I'm the only one here to take care of him right now, just let me see him."

The man hesitated then finally shook his head slightly and motioned Castiel to follow him. "All right, but you'll have to fill out some paperwork for your brother since he's unable to."

Castiel didn't care as long as they let him see Dean. He followed the man with relief to a small room filled with modern medical equipment that beeped and lit up and made Castiel rather nervous. But it was nothing compared to the feeling he had looking at Dean lying in the hospital bed.

He was shocked at how young and vulnerable he looked, and he was so pale that his freckles stood out in stark contrast to his skin.

"I'll be back with the paperwork," the doctor said and left Castiel with Dean.

He approached the bed cautiously, as if afraid to make a noise and disturb Dean's rest. He reached out slowly and touched Dean's hand lightly, before moving to place it on his pale forehead. Not long ago, it would have been so easy to just heal him and not have to watch him suffer anymore, but now he couldn't. He couldn't heal Dean and he hadn't been there when he needed someone to watch his back.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he said quietly.

He pulled a chair over and sat at the side of the bed, and watched Dean for a while, just counting his labored breaths as his chest rose and fell, then decided to take his hand in his so Dean might not feel so alone. So he knew someone was there.

He had little practice at this: the art of human comfort, but he was still learning, and he had to admit it was easier now than he had thought before he met Sam and Dean. They had changed a lot about how he thought of things; everything really. But he didn't really regret it either.

He wondered if he should call Sam. Dean hadn't talked to him for weeks. He knew that because he would catch Dean looking at his phone sometimes, as if debating whether to call Sam before he would toss it aside. Castiel could tell just how much it hurt Dean to be away from Sam and thought he likely regretted telling him it was best to part ways, but the angel also thought it might be a good thing. Perhaps it could help work out the problems they were having. Still, it didn't answer the question of whether he should call Sam and tell him what happened to Dean. Perhaps he should first find out how bad Dean was. He would ask him when he woke up.

The doctor came back with a clipboard and a pen and told Castiel to fill out the information on the papers. He spent several minutes looking over them, but could hardly make any sense of it, apart from the information that pertained to Dean's physical appearance. Weren't the doctors supposed to be the ones who knew all the other things?

He gave up after a while, wishing Sam had been there to help, and turned back to Dean, taking his hand again. The continuous beep of the machines were starting to annoy him, wearing on his worried mind, and he was trying to instead concentrate on Dean's breathing.

He was lost in thought when he felt Dean's hand twitch in his and the man gave a small wheezing moan, shifting slightly on the bed. His head automatically turned toward Cas as his eyes fluttered.

"S'mmy?" he whispered.

"It's Castiel, Dean," the angel said, gripping the hunger's hand tighter and reaching out his other hand to touch Dean's shoulder with in a steadying gesture.

Dean's eyes fluttered open fully, finally, and Castiel saw the bright green dimmed with pain and drugs. "Cas?"

Castiel smiled slightly at him with a nod. "Yes, Dean. The hospital called me from your phone. I was told you were shot."

"How…" Dean looked around the room, blankly. "How'd I get here? How long…?" He wheezed a painful breath and his free hand fluttered to his chest with a grimace. Castiel gently put the hand back onto the bed, afraid Dean would do something to hurt himself.

"It seems someone found you. I was only informed after you were here. The doctor said you had a collapsed lung."

"Damn," Dean muttered, closing his eyes again. "No wonder I can't breathe without it hurting like hell."

"Are you all right? Do you want me to get a doctor?" Castiel asked anxiously.

Dean shoot his head, gripping his hand tighter. "No, I don't want those quacks feeling me up. Unless there's some hot nurse around. That would be okay." He flashed a grin at Castiel briefly then closed his eyes with a wince. He was quiet for a long time, and then he finally turned back to his friend and spoke in barely a whisper, his eyes only half open.

"It was just a mugger, Cas," he began, a wry grimace on his face. "Nothing strange, nothing supernatural, just a plain normal, everyday mugger. He just surprised me when I was heading back to the car, and…I don't even know what I did, but he just shot me. Am I really that pathetic, Cas? Am I so damn pathetic now that I can't even take on a mugger?"

The depressed self-hatred that was obvious in Dean's voice bore into Castiel's heart and saddened him. He shook his head. "You're not pathetic, Dean."

Dean grimaced, finally looking up to meet Castiel's eyes. "Am I not? Then how come I can't seem to function without Sam around? You know, Cas, I never wanted this for him. I really did want him to have a shot at a normal life, but then everything went to hell and I think we both realized that that was never going to happen. But sometimes I wonder if it was all just selfish on my part. I've always been a wreck when he wasn't around. I used to tell myself it was because I wanted to keep an eye on him, make sure he was all right, but now? Now I think it might just be because I'm pathetic without him. I know I need him more than he needs me. He doesn't need me at all, Cas, but he's the one who keeps my feet on the ground, and when he's not there…I don't know." His voice was thick and Castiel could see the unshed tears in Dean's eyes.

"I can call Sam, Dean," Castiel told him, not sure what else to say. "If you want him here."

Dean gripped his hand tighter. "He won't come. I don't want him to come."

"He would come, Dean, he's your brother," Castiel told him firmly. "You know he would."

Dean was silent, his eyes closed again and he took a deep, painful breath. His hand squeezed Cas' tightly.

"I am sorry, Dean," Castiel said softly and Dean's eyes opened again.

"Why's that?" he asked.

"I should have been there for you so this wouldn't have happened. I'm not very good at this, I'm afraid. But I…I will learn and try harder. Sam is the only family you have left and you will need time to adjust to not having him there. In that time, I shall try and do what I can to make it easier. I know I am a poor substitute, but I will do all I can."

Dean shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "No, Cas."

Castiel felt his heart fall a little. No, maybe he was wrong, Dean didn't need his help after all. "That's all right, Dean. You might be better off alone anyway."

"Cas," Dean's eyes opened now and looked at him. "You're really thick sometimes, you know? I'm not saying I don't need your help. I'm saying that Sam isn't the only family I have. Don't you get it? You are my family too, Cas. You're like a brother to me. Family doesn't end with blood, you know."

This took Castiel aback. "I'm…I'm like a brother to you?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Are you going to make this into more of a chick flick moment than it already is?" But his smile was genuine now, even if he was trying to hide it. "Just do one thing for me and stop thinking you don't mean anything to me and Sam and Bobby too, Cas. Just because your family upstairs don't give a crap about you doesn't me we don't. I know we're busted and broken, but we'll have you if you want us."

Castiel smiled genuinely, touched at Dean's words. "You really mean that, Dean?"

"When do I not mean what I say?" he asked.

"That means a lot to me, Dean," Castiel told him quietly.

"As long as you realize the issues with joining our busted broken family."

"I'm beginning to realize I might fit into that well," Castiel told him.

Dean nodded a bit sadly. "Yeah, you just might." He looked around the room again. "Now when are you getting me out of here?"

"When you're well enough to leave," Castiel told him firmly.

"You're no fun," Dean told him. He closed his eyes for a while then cracked them open again. "You can at least get them to give me another shot of morphine. I might as well be high if I'm going to be stuck here."

"I'll see what I can do," Castiel told him, making to leave.

"Cas," Dean's hand tightened around his again, forcing him to stay. "You don't have to do it now." Castiel clearly heard the words he would never say out loud: don't leave.

Castiel settled into the chair more comfortably. "Very well, Dean."

Dean's eyes closed again and in only a few seconds he was sleeping. Castiel didn't plan on leaving him any time soon, because there in that hospital at that moment, he was all the family that Dean had, and he would watch out for him so he would be able to rest. Castiel smiled down at his brother, and settled in for a long night.

Well, I hope you liked it :) Please let me know! And check out my other stories too, I've still got plans for another multi-chapter SPN fic, and will start it once I finish the Hobbit one I'm writing. Until then, keep a look out for some more one shots. I have a few more ideas for those.