Hey there everyone~

So this will be the last chapter of this little
drabble series. I didn't want to go too far into
the plot of chapter nine; I just wanted to dip
into Castiel and Dean's reunion.

I hope ya'll enjoyed it!

Fallen Angel

Chapter Three

Dean had never seen Castiel cry before. It just wasn't something he did; angels weren't supposed to feel pain or fear or any of the other emotions that could cause tears. But he cried. He cried more than Dean had ever seen anyone cry. Hands tightened in Dean's brown leather jacket, as if he was afraid Dean would leave without him and he would be alone again. The hunter held him closer in response, brows crinkling at the sound of Castiel's muffled sobs. He looked over the angel's head at his brother. Sam stood behind Castiel, eyes sad as he reached out to touch Cas' shoulder in an awkward attempt at comfort.

Finally, Cas quieted down, trembling slightly against Dean's body. "Come on, let's get you in the car," Dean murmured, pulling back from their embrace to sling an arm around Castiel's shoulders and guide the fallen angel to the Impala.

"Is he gonna be alright?"

Dean glanced back as Cas climbed into the car. The blonde woman was standing by the doors of the diner, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Yeah. We'll take good care of him," Sam answered. Dean nodded once in both agreement and thanks before shutting the door and seating himself in the passenger seat. Sam got into the other side and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot.

The car ride was unnervingly silent. Dean glanced back at Cas; the angel wasn't faring well. His eyes were red-rimmed, arms wrapped around his abdomen self-consciously, face scrunched in pain. Dean then turned his gaze onto a worn-out Sam; his shoulder slumped, bags beneath his eyes. The two closest people to him were broken in such a way that he wasn't sure he could fix.

"Take the next off-ramp. We'll find a hotel for the night."

Sam nodded, not putting up a fight at all, and veered off the highway half a mile later. After just a bit of surveying, they located a hotel. It was run-down and old, but it had a roof, a bed and a bathroom.

Dean got out the moment Sam pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine, opening the back door and wrapping an arm around Cas' shoulders once he stood beside him. He shut the door and guided his friend into the hotel where Sam was paying for a room.

"They only have rooms with two beds," Sam murmured.

"That's fine. Thanks," Dean faked a smile, taking the key from the man at the counter and ushering Cas down the hall and into the elevator. Inside the lift, Dean glanced at Sam as Castiel edged closer to him, clinging to the fabric of his sleeve.

"Does it hurt, Cas?" Dean asked, peeking down at him as he tried to catch his eye. Castiel nodded heavily.

"Yes."

The ding of the elevator sounded before Dean could say anything more, and they stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. A short jaunt including a right turn and Dean stopped at a door reading 334, fitting the key into the lock and turning the knob. With Cas clutching to his arm, he stepped into the dark room, reaching to flip the little switch on the wall. Light flooded into the room, revealing the two hideously patterned beds, dresser and television. Dean stepped inside, accompanied by Cas and followed by a limping Sam.

Sam tossed their bags to the side of the farthest bed. Taking notice of the way the angel was stuck to his brother like glue, Sam ran a hand through his hair.

"You guys hungry?"

Dean caught onto Sam's intensions immediately. It was obvious that Cas was vulnerable and needed some space, and Sam's tall ass looming over them probably wouldn't help much. Dean, on the other hand, seemed to be someone Cas was comfortable enough around.

"Yeah, I could go for a burger. How 'bout you, Cas?" He nodded slightly in agreement. "Thanks, Sammy." With a nod, the brunet departed, leaving Dean and Castiel alone in the hotel room.

Dean moved closer to Cas, reaching out to touch him hesitantly. "You alright, man? I mean, besides the obvious."

Eyes welling with tears, Castiel shook his head. When he'd first awoken after losing his grace, he hadn't felt much discomfort. Now, though, there was a stabbing pain in his chest, as well as an ache in his shoulder blades where his wings had once been. Every movement felt strange to him without the balance of his wings, and the absence of flutters that his ears were accustomed to unsettled him.

Dean frowned. "How 'bout a bath? You'll feel better after you get cleaned up."

Castiel followed Dean into the small bathroom and stood idly to the side as the hunter ran the water to fill the bathtub. He turned to glance at Castiel. The figure standing in the room with him looked like a shell of his former self. He was tentative and introverted. Broken. Dean sighed profoundly.

"I'm gonna run downstairs and get some soap. Just... wait here."

Inside the small traveler's shop adjacent to the lobby, Dean snatched a bottle of attractive-looking bubble bath soap off the shelf. Paying the cashier, he hurried back into the elevator and pressed the 3 button. Once the door slid closed and he was alone, he leaned back against the wall and ran a hand through his hair.

Cas was important – definitely important – but they had other problems on their hands. Besides Sam's lack of strength, there was Metatron, Lucifer, as well as all the fallen angels who were more than likely after Castiel. It was a lot to deal with, and, once again, Dean felt like the big brother. He was the strong one; he had to be, for Sammy and Castiel.

Stepping out into the hallway, he unlocked the door once he got to it. Stopping at the closed bathroom door, he rapped his knuckles on the wood twice.

"Cas?"

"Come in," came the murmured reply, voice thick with what Dean assumed to be emotion. Easing the door open, he peeked inside hesitantly.

Castiel was standing in front of the mirror, coat and shirt discarded on the floor beside the half-full tub. He wasn't facing the mirror, though; instead he was looking over his shoulder at something on his back. Moving closer, he tried to see what Castiel was examining so intently.

"Oh man."

Castiel whipped around at the sound of his voice, blue eyes glassy and red, and he moved forward to bury his face in Dean's shoulder. The taller male wrapped one arm around the trembling angel, but the image of the scars still swam in his vision. On the blades of his shoulders were large pink tears, like his wings had physically been ripped from his body. "Cas. Cas, shh," he whispered, trying to soothe the broken man in his arms. Sure, he'd seen Cas injured before. He'd seen him sad, dejected, even. But he'd never seen him broken like this.

"C'mon, Cas. Let's get you into the tub."

Dean poured a generous amount of soap into the running water while Castiel removed his pants and shoes. He averted his eyes as the other sank to sit in the steaming water. With a sympathetic sigh, Dean scooped up the little bar of body soap and sank to sit on his knees beside the tub on the tile floor.

"Turn around, Cas."

The ravenet obliged, water swishing dangerously close to the top edge of the bathtub as he sat facing the wall. Green eyes rested on the scars, a frown curving his full lips.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Bad?"

Castiel paused for a moment. "It's not unbearable."

"C'mon, Cas. You don't have enough practice at lying to be good at it."

Castiel was silent, and Dean shifted to wet the soap, smoothing the rectangular bar over the scarred skin gently. The angel flinched, but when Dean discarded the soap and used his hands instead, Castiel's shoulders slumped and his head bowed forward. Working the heels of his palms into Cas' skin, Dean watched his fingers slide across the reddened skin easily amongst the bubbles.

"It's gonna be okay, Cas," he mumbled idly. "We'll get your grace back."

"How, Dean? You and I both know what lies in store for me in the future."

Dean hesitated for a moment. Cas was right, and he honestly had no idea how to approach the retrieval of an angel's grace. How did one get his grace back? Make a deal with God?

"Sammy and I'll figure something out," he replied simply, trying to sound confident. Going about massaging his aching shoulders and back, Dean fell silent. Castiel followed suit, making little noises of appreciation every so often, until Dean took his hands away to wipe them off and reach for the shampoo.

"Feel better?"

"Yes."

"I'm gonna wash your hair," he murmured, pouring the entire contents of the tiny bottle onto his palm.

Castiel's eyes slipped closed as Dean's fingers worked through his dark locks. The feeling of nails on his scalp was more comforting than he would have expected, and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

"Thank you, Dean."

The hunter lifted his eyes to the back of Castiel's soapy head, a small smile fitting itself on his lips.

"Well, you've looked after me enough. I think it's high time someone watched over you for a while."

Sam walked in the door as Dean emerged from the bathroom with wet hands and a small smile. He ignored the knowing smirk Sam shot in his direction and shrugged his shoulders.

"So, what'd you get me?"

"How is he?"

Dean's smile fell. "He's... he's alright. No, don't look at me like that," he added, furrowing his brows at Sam's smirk.

Before Sam could retort, the bathroom door opened and Castiel padded out, tousled hair still wet and Sam's shirt hanging on his frame loosely. He eyed the bags of food in Sam's hands.

"Hope you don't mind, Sammy. My clothes were all dirty." He grinned cheekily.

Dean's eyes strayed from the website page to the bed where Sam lay, snoring softly as he had been for the past half hour. Cas was sitting on the other bed, watching the Discovery Channel quietly. With a sigh, Dean closed his laptop, attracting Castiel's attention.

"I'm gonna get some shut-eye. You should too. We'll head to the bunker tomorrow."

Castiel picked up the remote and clicked the television off. Dean settled himself on the bed beside Sam, and then reached to turn the light off. All was quiet in the darkness for a few minutes before...

"Dean?"

The voice was quiet and meek and tugged at heart strings Dean didn't know he had.

"Yeah?"

"I can't sleep."

Dean contemplated Cas' words for a moment before sitting up and swinging his legs off the side of the bed, moving to lie beside Castiel. Big blue eyes shone in the darkness of the room.

"It's okay," he murmured, voice gruff with sleep. A reassuring hand reached out blindly to rest on his ribcage, halting momentarily to feel the rise and fall with each breath he took. Slowly, he slid his hand upward to touch Cas' shoulder. "Just close your eyes."

"I've never slept before."

"It's not that hard," Dean said softly, scooting closer. "Just count sheep or something."

"What do domesticated cattle have to do with this?" Castiel asked, puzzled.

Dean smirked, stretching his arm out beneath Cas' head. "Nevermind. Alright, angel. C'mere."

"I'm not an angel anymore, Dean." Castiel's voice was solemn as he scooted closer, allowing Dean to wrap him up in his arms.

"We'll get your grace back, Cas," Dean murmured, repeating his words from earlier as he folded one arm behind his head.

"How?" Blue eyes focused on him, large and deep.

"We'll figure somethin' out. Get some sleep."

Castiel was silent for a moment, and Dean felt his breath graze the bare skin of his collarbone. "What if I dream?"

"… Then you dream."

"What if it is a bad dream?"

Dean's own eyes slipped closed as he hugged the other close. "Well, then I'll be right here when you wake up."

And Dean was there. He was there for the entire night, and the one after that as well. He was there six nights later when Castiel did have a nightmare, and he held the angel close, even pressing his lips to his forehead in a soft kiss. Only then did Castiel understand that Dean wasn't going to leave him. Ever.