Chapter Text
Dean walked past the closed door for the fourth time that morning. This time, however, he paused in front of it and even had the courage to raise his hand as if to knock. His knuckles never rapped against the wood, however, and, dropping his arm to his side, he moved away from it, chewing his lip.
"Just give him some time."
Dean looked up to see Sam standing at the end of the hallway, watching Dean knowingly.
"Time? He's been in there for twelve hours. How much more sleep does a guy need?" He followed his brother down the hallway and slid into the chair opposite him at the table.
"Well, I guess if you've spent most of history as a being that doesn't sleep, an opportunity to get some shut-eye is one you'd wanna take advantage of." Sam, always the rational one.
"Yeah, well," Dean grumbled quietly, picking at a spot on the table.
Sam watched him for a moment, eyebrows drawn together. "I'm worried about him, too," he finally murmured. "But I really do think he just needs time. We've all been there." Another pause. "He's lost everything."
Dean looked up. "Not everything. He hasn't lost everything. He's got us." He stood and left Sam at the table, heading to his own room.
***
Two days passed before Cas came out of the guest room for anything other than to use the bathroom. It was evening and the brothers were both in the kitchen, Dean standing at the stove flipping a few burgers, Sam at the opposite counter putting together a salad.
Cas shuffled in virtual silence into the doorway and stood.
"Cas," Dean said in surprise, looking up from his patties.
Spinning to also see the ruffled-looking man standing before them, Sam shifted his expression from pleasant surprise to something softer. "Hey, buddy."
Cas stood awkwardly for a moment before moving to a chair in the corner and easing himself into it with a soft sigh. Despite having spent so much time in bed recently, the man's face appeared drawn, his blue eyes not as icy as usual. The dark circles under his eyes contrasted sickly against his pale skin.
"You, uh... You want me to put a burger on for you?" A worried-looking Dean peered at him from across the stove, his hand hovering over a fourth patty to toss on the grill. "It's been a few days since you ate. Well, I mean - it's been longer than that, but uh, you know, three days as a - ..."
Cas merely looked at him, making Dean shift uncomfortably, worried he went too far. Luckily, his brother stepped in to help.
"We know you've got some stuff to get used to, but you should eat something," he spoke more kindly than Dean had, more sympathetically. "There are things you need to start remembering to take of, you know, as a human."
He said the word that Dean couldn't, and it made Cas flinch - the first expression he'd shown, however, other than that of exhaustion.
Sam and Dean shared a glance.
"Look, Cas-"
"I know." Cutting Dean off, Cas's voice came out gravelly from lack of use. "I know... This body has been protesting my neglect of it in the past three days. My stomach...has been very vocal."
A hopeful smile almost playing on his lips, Dean turned back to the burgers, throwing the fourth one on for Cas. "Yeah, that happens. Listen, why don't you get in the shower and Sam and I will get the grub ready. You can get out of those clothes, borrow some sweats from my dresser. Sound good?"
Cas nodded and stood, swaying slightly before heading out of the kitchen. As he walked away, it didn't go unnoticed from Dean when Cas rolled his shoulders in discomfort, wincing as if in pain before he disappeared around the corner.
"That's a good sign, right? He's coming out of his shell a little."
All Sam replied with was a soft "Hmm," however, before he turned his attention back to his lettuce.
***
Much to Dean's disappointment, Cas didn't make a whole lot of improvement over the next few days. He came out of his room mostly just once a day, and even then didn't say or eat much. He just sat with the boys and sipped water and pushed food around his plate. Sam tried in vain to keep a conversation going usually, but Dean had given up and just watched his friend with less hope each day.
After they ate, Cas would disappear to the bathroom, leaving Sam and Dean on the other side of a locked door and the sound of the shower running for way longer than necessary.
Finally, after almost a week of this, Dean had had enough. Cas was sitting at the table, staring down at a plate of eggs that had long gone cold. Dean was at the adjacent table, his disassembled gun spread out before him for cleaning.
He threw sideways glances at Cas for a while before finally speaking up.
"You gonna eat it, or just look at it?"
Cas looked up in surprise, as if he had forgotten Dean was there. "Um..." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I'm not hungry," he said, pushing the plate away.
Dean pulled the bore brush out of the barrel of his gun and slammed both things on the table, making Cas jump violently and look at Dean in shock.
"Alright, Cas, that's it. You've been moping around here long enough. It's time you got yourself together, okay?"
Cas seemed to shrink into himself, his hands starting to tremble. Dean didn't notice, and his voice raised to a shout.
"Yeah, I know it sucks. You lost your wings. But you've gotta start moving on, man! I can't - you just - "
"Dean."
Turning to see Sam standing in the doorway, Dean finally stopped yelling.
"What's going on?" Sam eyes went from Dean, who was standing with his hands balled into fists, to Cas, who was hunched over the table and avoiding looking at either of them.
"Cas, he -"
But Sam cut him off, gesturing over his shoulder. "Can I talk to you, Dean? In private?"
Before Dean could follow Sam out of the door, Cas lurched up from his chair and slipped out, brushing past Sam on his way to the bathroom. The door shut with a sharp click that seemed to echo down the hall to Sam and Dean.
The anger on Dean's face subsided slightly, being replaced by a look of guilt. He sighed and collapsed into a chair, picking up his gun again.
"You're not being very fair to him," Sam slid into the chair across from him.
"I know," Dean said quietly. "I didn't mean to get pissed like that, and I didn't mean to scare him off. I just - I can't stand watching him do this every day, Sam."
"I know. Trust me, I know. I just think you could be a little more understanding. I think... I think he's depressed, Dean. Clinically depressed. He's been through a lot in the last two weeks, and he just needs our support. He doesn't need you yelling at him."
Giving up on the stripped weapon before him, Dean ran a hand over his face. "I know. I know. I should apologize to him. I'll talk to him when he comes out of the bathroom."
"Alright. Just be gentle, okay?" Sam stood, clapping Dean on the shoulder as he walked to get his jacket. "I'm gonna make a supply run, we're low on just about everything. I'll be back in an hour or two."
Dean nodded, gathering the parts of his gun to reassemble. He pulled the keys to the Impala from his pocket and tossed them to his brother, who caught them as he made his way up the stairs to the door. "Get some pie," Dean said before Sam shut the door behind him.
Sighing again, he packed up his cleaning kit.
Just as he was finished putting his things away, the bathroom door opened and Cas slunk out, making a beeline for his bedroom door.
"Cas, wait!" Dean called, making the other man freeze, his back to Dean. He stood tensely for a moment before slowly turning, as Dean hurried down the hall toward him.
"Listen, I..." Dean began softly. "I'm sorry, about yelling at you." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes on Cas, who was looking everywhere but at Dean. "I know you're having a hard time. I just - I wanna see you getting better, feeling better... I mean, you hardly ever come out of your room, you lock yourself in the bathroom for hours-"
"Dean," Cas finally looked up at him, and Dean stopped talking. The two men looked each other in the eye for a moment. Cas spoke quietly. "It's okay... I know you're frustrated. I - I am having a hard time." He sighed, and slipped into his room. It was dim, the only light coming from the hallway. Dean followed and stood in the doorway, and Cas went over to his bed and sat on the edge before saying anything more. "Being human... It's not easy. Your emotions, they're so strong. I feel - " He looked down at his lap, looking embarrassed.
"Cas, talk to me," Dean moved across the room and sat next to him on the mattress.
The blue-eyed man sighed, wringing his hands in his lap. "I feel like I'm drowning." His voice cracked on the last word and he turned his face away from Dean, ashamed. "Sometimes it's so bad I can't catch my breath."
They were quiet for a minute, before Dean spoke, his voice softer than it had been before. "Of all people, Cas, I know what you're feeling. I really do. I'm... I'm glad you're telling me this. Me and Sam, we're here for you, alright? No matter what. You gotta know that."
Cas finally looked at Dean, his mouth pulled into an almost-smile for the first time in weeks, before it disappeared in a wince of pain. Rolling his shoulders, Cas reached and rubbed a hand over the back of his arm.
His eyebrows drawing together, Dean looked at him in worry. "Cas? Are you in pain?"
"I'm alright, Dean - "
"That's not the first time I saw you do that. Does your back hurt?"
"It's fine."
Dean glowered at him and Cas turn red, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
"I've been experiencing some pain, yes."
"Where? How bad?"
"It...varies. It's always in the same area, but sometimes it's not too bad. Other times..."
Looking at him knowingly, Dean said, "Other times it's so bad you can't get out of bed?"
The expression on Cas's face was confirmation enough. "Alright, lie down."
"What? Dean - "
"On your stomach, lie down." Dean stood, waiting for Cas to do as he was told. When Cas decided Dean wasn't going to let him get away with not complying, he lay down. He grumbled in pain and annoyance as he rolled onto his stomach, the side of his face pressed into the pillow.
"Alright, where does it hurt?"
"Er...mostly everywhere between my shoulders. Right in the center is where it's the worst."
Dean had pulled off his flannel so he was just in a T-shirt, and he looked down at Cas for a moment. "Where your wings would have been," he said, so quietly Cas thought he might have heard wrong. He did hear, however, and his stomach clenched tightly. He had been hoping Dean wouldn't make that connection.
"Yes," he murmured. He jumped slightly when he felt Dean's hands on the backs of his arms.
"It's alright," he heard Dean say softly from above him. His fingers pressed gently in the backs of Cas's arms, making their way up towards the top of his shoulders. Dean seemed to be thinking about something, and after a moment of quiet he said, "It's phantom limb syndrome."
"It's what?" Cas squirmed under Dean's touch.
"Phantom limb syndrome. You know, when people who get legs and arms amputated feel pain in the limb that's not there. It's pretty common, actually." His voice was gentle, and came from close behind Cas's shoulder as he leaned over him. "In your case, I guess it's even more figurative, since your vessel never actually had any wings. You're just feeling the pain through this body."
Cas pondered the idea of that, hyper-aware of Dean's hands moving over his trapezius muscles. The pads of his fingers were warm, pressing expertly into the skin on either side of his neck. The palms of his hands he could feel through the over-large crew neck he had borrowed from the man leaning over him.
"Alright, I'm gonna move down to where the pain is coming from. Try and keep relaxed."
Despite Dean's orders, Cas grimaced and tensed in anticipation. Dean felt his muscles ripple under his hands, but he kept going, despite Cas's obvious trepidation.
Castiel let out a hiss as Dean's fingers pressed between his shoulder blades, and he squirmed in pain. "Ouch, Dean -"
He tried to move out from under the man's hands, but Dean held him there. "Shh, Cas, relax. Just relax."
Cas forced himself to be still, but his muscles remained tight.
"I know it hurts. Just give me a minute, it'll help."
Shutting his eyes, Cas tried to concentrate on what Dean was doing. He felt his fingertips push into the muscle on either side of his spine, his palms kneading around the perimeter of his shoulder blades. Dean saw Cas clench his jaw a few times when he put pressure on particular spots, but he pushed through it, massaging out the kinks that were a result of Cas trying to protect himself from the pain in the last few weeks.
"That's it..." Dean said softly, surprising Cas again with how close his voice sounded. Slowly but surely, the pain seemed to be ebbing away, and Cas gradually relaxed. His breathing slowed into a more content pace, and he made Dean chuckle softly when he let out a quiet, "wow."
"It hardly hurts at all anymore," Cas whispered, his eyelids drooping. Dean hummed softly, his practiced hands still working their magic, until Cas drifted into a sleep that was the deepest and most relaxed it'd been since he'd been staying with them. When he was sure the former angel was completely out, Dean stood up straight and looked down at the peaceful-looking man. A soft smile on his face, he watched Cas sleep for several moments before turning and quietly letting himself out, shutting the door behind himself.
***
They had a sort of silent agreement after that. The days went by, and Cas came out of his room more, tried harder to eat what he could. In return, after Sam had gone to sleep each night, the two of them would make their way to Cas's room, where Dean massaged away the remnants of pain and loss that Castiel kept stored between his shoulder blades. With the phantom pain significantly reduced during the day, it was easier for him to get himself out of bed and take care of himself.
One night, when Dean was sure Cas had fallen asleep and he straightened up and turned to go, Cas caught his wrist. Dean looked down at the long fingers, curled loosely around his arm.
"No," Cas whispered, eyes still closed. "Stay."
Dean shifted from foot to foot, unsure if Cas knew what he was saying. He waited a moment, and Cas's hand dropped, releasing Dean's arm. He started to snore softly and Dean left the room.