Chapter One

Dean sat on the edge of the cheap motel bed, his head in his hands, muttering to himself. Sam was out getting supplies (including pie—the most essential), leaving Dean to the thoughts that were echoing in his head. He didn't really know what he was saying, he was just babbling about every thought that crossed his mind. Suddenly, there was the telltale rustle of feathers, and Dean stood, whipping around, only to see a very bloody, almost shirtless Castiel, falling to the ground. His shirt was almost completely torn apart, and he had deep gashes everywhere in his stomach. Dean ran and caught him before he hit the ground, lifting him onto the closest bed. For an angel, he seemed to be losing way too much blood.

"Cas, what the hell happened to you?" Dean asked, trying not to show his worry. When Cas tried to talk, blood gushed from his mouth, and he coughed, trying to get it out. Just before he passed out, Cas managed to utter a single word—angels.

When Sam got to the room with the groceries, Dean was pacing back and forth in front of the bed that Cas was resting on. As soon as he saw the injured body and the trenchcoat, Sam dropped the bags and ran to his side.

"What the hell happened?" Sam asked frantically, checking Castiel's pulse. "He's got a pulse, but it's pretty faint. Why didn't he just heal himself?"

"I asked him what happened, but all he managed to say was 'angels.' Sammy, I don't know what to think... What should we do?" Dean asked, unable to control the complete worry he had for the angel. Sam shook his head, shrugging, with a pained expression on his face.

"I have no idea. I guess we just wait for him to wake up," Sam suggested, and Dean nodded, looking defeated. That night, while Sam slept, Dean tossed and turned, all the while thinking about Cas. Finally, when he had had enough, he looked at the clock, and upon seeing that it was 3:43am, he sighed and got up, throwing a shirt on and going to sit next to Cas's sleeping body. It freaked Dean out that he was even asleep, seeing as angels don't sleep at all, normally. Cas was shirtless except for the bloodstained bandages that were wrapped around his stomach. His trenchcoat and suit coat were folded neatly next to the bed, but his shirt and tie were both too damaged to ever wear again, so Sam had thrown them away.

Praying that Cas wouldn't awaken, Dean began unraveling the bandages, a fresh set next to him. Once he got the old ones off, he tossed them right in the trash, before cringing and assessing the damage before him. It looked like he'd been slashed repeatedly by some sort of blade, or maybe large claws had raked down his torso. There were six gashes in a row, all the same length, but some deeper than the others. Blood was still oozing slowly out of the deeper wounds, so Dean got a wet dishcloth and began gently cleaning the cuts until the bleeding stopped. When he was finished with that, he began wrapping the clean bandages around the angel's torso, making sure they were tight, but not too tight.

As he did this, he whispered things to Cas, knowing full well that he couldn't hear a word the hunter was saying.

"Cas... I don't know why anyone would do this to you. I'm so sorry, man. I think you're gonna need stitches for these—it looks pretty damn bad. I know we shouldn't take you to a hospital, but right now it's looking like that's our only option. I won't let you die, I can't. You're going to be fine, Cas. I know it."

Dean sat with him until the sun came up the next morning, and when Sam awoke, he found Dean asleep, lying across Castiel's legs. Sam's eyes traveled along Cas's body, seeing that there were fresh bandages on his torso. He also saw that Cas's eyes were open, and he was looking at Dean's sleeping form with a surprised and sort of confused expression.

"You know, you can wake him up if you want," Sam suggested amusedly, sitting up. Cas looked at him, relieved. He shook Dean's shoulder roughly, to which Dean responded by opening his eyes and then jumping up off of the bed.

"Shit! Cas, I'm so sorry! I was just changing your bandages last night and I must have fallen asleep," Dean explain frantically, "Wait a sec... You're awake!" he exclaimed, before sitting back down next to the dark-haired man.

"How do you feel? And what can you tell us about what happened?" Sam asked gently, getting up and pulling his jacket on.

"Well, other than the severe pain from the gashes in my stomach, I seem to be okay, physically," Cas stated matter-of-factly, "And, well... I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I do know that the angel who attacked me took away my ability to heal myself before they did anything. They definitely knew what they were doing. They wanted me dead. I still have no idea how I got away."

"Do you know who did it? Can't angels sense the identities of other angels when they're nearby?" Dean asked gruffly, to which Cas nodded.

"Normally, that's the case. But whoever attacked me didn't want me to know who they were. They masked their identity with some sort of spell, making it so that I couldn't tell who it was. It could have been anyone."

Dean sighed and shook his head, annoyed. "Whoever it was, I'll kill 'em," he threatened. Cas shook his head.

"How would you find out who it was? There wasn't a single distinguishing feature. Even their human form was masked in disguise, and it might not have even been their vessel. It could have been any human that they were possessing."

"Well, either way, at least we know that we have to keep you safe and out of sight. Hex bags maybe?" Sam suggested, and Dean nodded. "You do that, Sammy. I'll take a look at these wounds, make sure he doesn't need stitches or anything." Sam tried to protest, but Dean looked at him sternly. "Sam, go. I've stitched up enough wounds in my time. I'll make sure he's okay." Sam sighed and left the room, grabbing the car keys from the table by the door. Dean gingerly unwrapped the bandages after helping Cas sit up, which proved to be a difficult and painful task for the both of them.

"Ooh, damn. These look pretty bad... I think I'll have to do stitches on all of these, or else they'll get infected," Dean explained, and Cas nodded. Dean got up and retrieved the first aid kit, containing a flask of whiskey, which he handed to Cas. Cas downed the liquid in one go, seemingly not affected by it. Dean sighed and dug around in their duffle bag, pulling out a full bottle of Jack Daniel's. "Here, drink the whole thing. Then maybe the pain will be numbed a little," Dean told the angel, handing him the bottle. Cas downed the bottle, only looking a little tipsy when he was finished. He shrugged, tossing the bottle onto the floor. Dean sighed. "I guess that'll just have to do."

After pouring some alcohol into the wounds to keep infection away, causing a bit of a shocked scream from Cas, Dean began sewing, using a bent surgical needle to make it easier. One hole at a time, slowly, Dean sewed the first wound tight. Cas was fisting the blankets of the bed tightly, his eyes screwed up in pain. When Dean was finished with the first of six, Cas relaxed, sweating. Dean cleaned his hands of the new, fresh blood, letting Cas rest. When he got back to work, he took off his leather belt and folded it in half, placing it between Cas's teeth so that he could bite down against the pain.

Dean hated having to do something so painful to the angel, the angel who had never really felt that much pain before. Before this other angel had taken away his powers, he hadn't really felt pain. But now, the pain was probably incredibly severe. But Dean knew what had to be done, so he set to work once more, his fingers steady and his mind on one thing: keeping Cas safe. Just as Dean finished tying the knot on the last stitch, Sam walked in, two hex bags in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. Dean looked at him, taking the hex bags and stuffing both of them in Cas's pockets. "What's in the bag?" he asked, after doing so.

Sam opened the bag and took out a bottle of Jack Daniel's, a six-pack of beer, and a slice of chocolate walnut pie. "Pie!" Dean exclaimed, grabbing it quickly. The beer was placed into the fridge, and the whiskey bottle passed around by the three of them. Cas was last to get the bottle, since they all knew he'd probably want the majority of the alcohol. They were right about that. He drank the entire thing, becoming more tipsy and very sleepy afterwards. Sam chuckled, and they let the man sleep, going just outside the motel room so that they could talk. They sat on the hood of the Impala, looking up at the cloudy sky.

"Do you think he's gonna be okay?" Dean asked. Sam looked at him, eyes narrowed.

"You've been awfully nervous about him, Dean. What's up? You never freak out this much," Sam inquired. Dean shrugged.

"I just hate the fact that someone could ever do something like this to someone so innocent. I mean he's so weak and helpless now, and it doesn't matter who he is, because if anyone that we knew was stuck like that, I wouldn't be able to bear it. I guess I just care about the guy more than I thought."

"That's really sweet, Dean. Who knew you could actually be kind-hearted once in a while?" Sam joked. Dean scoffed and punched his brother playfully in the arm. They laughed together, and then just sat, watching the clouds go by. They talked, for the first time in a while. They talked about the car, about Dean's love for pie, about old hunts, about their father, about anything except Cas. Before they knew it, the sun came out, the the clouds dispersed, making the day quite hot. And sitting on the hood of a black car wasn't really helping, either. The boys decided to go back into the air-conditioned motel room, that way Dean could enjoy some Magic Fingers and Sam could do some research on how to get Castiel's powers back.

When they walked back into the room, Cas was sitting up, his suit coat and trenchcoat on, but his stomach and chest showing, since his shirt had been ruined. Sam laughed at the angel when he saw him, surprised at the attire. "Wow... It's a good look for you, man," Sam chuckled. Dean raised an eyebrow at the sight, also unable to hold back a giggle.

"Cas... I'm so sorry," Dean said, before bursting into peals of laughter. "I'll have to get you a new shirt... For now, you can just wear one of mine," Dean offered, and Cas nodded, thanking him. Dean dug around in a black duffle bag until he came across his favourite Led Zeppelin t-shirt, which Cas graciously accepted, taking his two coats off to pull the shirt over his head. It was a little bit big on him, but it fit him well enough, and it would work until they could get to a store to get him a new dress shirt and tie to go with the clothes he already had.

When that was done, the three men were standing in a crappy motel room on a Tuesday afternoon with nothing to do. So what better to do than lay down and enjoy the Magic Fingers? As Dean laid back and enjoyed the vibrations, he felt weird, so he looked up to find Cas standing over him, his head tilted, confused. Dean raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked, his eyes narrowing in that way they do when he's confused.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm being massaged by my bed. It feels really nice, you know," Dean explained, "You're welcome to join me. It might help with all of the stress you've been feeling from the attack."

Cas shrugged, deciding that he had nothing to lose, and laid down on the bed next to Dean, feeling the vibrations through his body. It felt nothing like a real massage would, but at the moment, it was the best he was going to get, and it felt pretty damn good anyway. He laid down with stiff limbs, but as he got more into it, he let his muscles relax, feeling himself sink into the mattress. Before he knew it, his hands were under his head, his eyes were closed, and his legs had fallen open when he relaxed them, putting him in a position that nobody had ever seen him in before.

Dean cracked open one eye to look at him, and grinned when he saw how comfortable the angel looked. He had never seen Cas look so utterly relaxed in his life. Content with what he saw, Dean closed his eyes again, giving in to the vibrations. Images danced in front of his eyes, moments in time. The memory of having to sew Cas's torn flesh up, of falling asleep on top of his legs, of watching the angel fight in their previous battles together, of their first meeting, of the bright blue eyes in contrast to the grey days that they had faced. Images of Cas. Before he knew what was happening, Dean was falling asleep, just barely dozing off. However, he could still feel every movement that happened, including the bouncing of the bed that occurred when Cas rolled towards him. He felt the warm body pressed against his, and loved the feeling.

Dean knew it was only about 7 o'clock, but he was completely exhausted from the previous night, so he put his arm around the angel's shoulders without thinking, feeling the body snuggle up into his side. He fell asleep like that, with the bed vibrating and his heart pounding from the feeling of having Cas so close to him. When he did fall asleep, it was the deepest, most dreamless sleep he had had in months, thanks to Cas. Thanks to his Cas.