Just A Bit Closer (Book Two)

In Which We Learn

{Dean's POV}

Four days of searching.

Plus the three of waiting.

One week. One week since Cas blacked out.

Ten days since I heard him speak, heard him laugh.

It was day eight in this abyss of endless torture, a Thursday. I was eating a slice of pie.

"Dean?"

I jumped at the sound of my name. I turned to see Sam, laptop in hand.

"Yeah?" I asked, going back to my pie.

"You okay?"

I laid my fork down and sighed. "Sam. It's been eight days since Cas was alright. We've searched and searched, and nothing. We've found nothing."

Sam came and sat in front of me. "So you're just going to give up?"

"It's just like the Mark. There's nothing in the lore. Nothing from the Men of Letters. Our last resort has always been Cas. No angels are listening. I'm not giving up, I'm just saying that we're running out of options. Sammy, I don't know what to do anymore."

My brother walked behind me and patted my shoulder. "We'll figure it out. We always do."

Some hours later, I was digging through the archives. " 'Asteroids', 'Angry Spirits', ah 'Angels'." I pulled out the filing card that was titled 'Angels'.

"Oh, wow," I said as I scanned the contents of the list.

'Weaknesses', 'Origins', 'Wings', blah, blah, 'Grace'.

I had been thinking about Cas's grace for a few days. He said his grace was 'dwindling'. He shouldn't have been zapping back and forth like he had.

"This is my fault," I whispered, sinking to my knees. "It's all my fault." Tears started to drip down my cheeks and I wiped them away. "I've got to fix this."

I looked back at the card to find the information on grace. Annex C- 3:4

The Men of Letters had their own extreme filing system, everything was in an insane type of organization that I really don't understand. But sometimes, it helps to have such OCD ancestors.

I walked down to Annex C and found the third bookcase, fourth shelf.

In the file, there was a small journal from a Men of Letter named Maxwell Hanson.

Sitting down, I started to read.

Maxwell starts by explaining what an angel is, since I had a pretty good idea, I skipped that section. He then explains his theory about grace and its supernatural properties. Maxwell says that he believed grace flowed like blood through an angel's veins. But he wanted to test his hypothesis. He tells how he managed to capture an angel and decided to slit her throat. He thought it would kill her, but it didn't. She became human.

I closed the journal. That didn't help me. All Maxwell did was create a fallen angel. I frowned and put the record back on the shelf.

"Cas, I'm so sorry. I'm trying. I won't give up, but it may take some time. Hang in there, angel."

I started walking back to my room to check on Cas. I tried to hang onto hope, I promised Sam, I promised Cas, but everything was getting harder. But for now, I trudged on.

That is, until I heard Cas scream.

I was almost to the dormitories when a blood curdling scream came from my bedroom. Cas, I thought.

I ran faster than I've ever run before. Even with demons and the worst monsters chasing me, I wouldn't have beaten my sprint to Cas.

I hesitated at the door, terrified of what I would see. There he was, sitting up on my bed, awake. But not okay.

"Cas?"

He looked up with the most pained expression. I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him. When he winced, I released him, then gasped at the sight of my arms. They were coated in blood.

"C- Cas."

His lip started to quiver, his mind wandering to the exact thought mine did. I walked to the other side of the bed and choked.

The back of Cas's button up was stained red.

Cas had his eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping through the slits. I unbuttoned his shirt and carefully took it off.

Two long, bloody lines stretched from his shoulder blades to the small of his back.

His scars were open.

"Cas," I said in a hushed voice. He nodded sadly. "Your wings."

That's when I noticed a few scattered black feathers lying on the ground, bed, and pillow.

I picked one up and placed it in Cas's hand. He sucked in a breath and looked me in the eyes. "Dean, I'm scared."

I took him into my arms, cautious not to touch his open wounds. "It's alright. I'm here. I'll always be here," I soothed. "My angel."