Finding Faith [Destiel Love Story]

Chapter 10

Oxygen. Dean's first awareness was his ability to breathe properly. The air around him was keeping him alive. He couldn't remember what happened, but he knew he should be dead. Touch came next. Dean was laying comfortably on a mattress with his head propped up on a pillow. He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, just to make sure both of his hands were still there. They were. The pain lingered only in his memory.

Sight. Dean opened his eyes, blinded for a second by the sunlight pouring into the room. He was in his own bedroom, safe and sound. Nothing seemed to be different, but he was still disoriented. He brought his hand up to his face to rub his eyes.

The memories came back all at once and Dean was on his feet in a matter of seconds. He stumbled, head throbbing. The room was still spinning when he regained his balance. His face felt hot. His stomach dipped downward and then curved back in on itself.

Something glistened from his nightstand. Looking over, he saw his Demon-Killing knife sitting idly beside the alarm clock. The time was 09:37.

"Good morning, Dean."

His head snapped to the open door where Castiel stood, watching him carefully. Dean swallowed a lump in his throat, taking a step toward him.

"Cas?" His own voice startled him, it was so hoarse. He coughed into his elbow and cleared his throat. "Did you..."

"Yes, I healed you."

"What happened to werebear?"

"That creature no longer exists." Castiel paused. "I... Can't stay here long."

Dean crossed his arms. "That's it, huh?" he asked. "You only came back because I was too stupid to take care of myself."

Castiel squinted. "You are not stupid, Dean."

"I prayed to you, Cas."

"I heard."

"Well, you never showed." He uncrossed his arms. "You never told me – you could've said something. You could've told me you were okay."

"I'm here now."

Dean rolled his eyes, walking across the room until he was inches away from Castiel. He examined his face, searched those blue eyes. "Yeah," he said. "I see that."

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head. "You're angry."

Dean looked away.

"I don't understand," the angel said.

Dean raised his eyebrows, looking back at him. "Cas, you left in the middle of a conversation."

"I had something I needed to attend to. You didn't seem too worried."

"I didn't seem too worried?" Dean scoffed. "I prayed for you to come back."

Castiel stared at him. Dean stared right back. His guardian angel, the one person who knew him inside and out completely and fully, had to know the significance in that. Dean's faith had long since dissolved into nothing.

"Of course I know that, Dean. I did not mean to leave so suddenly, and I was in no position to leave my whereabouts simply to put your mind at ease," Castiel stated. "I was summoned back to Heaven."

"What?"

"There's been a lot of tension there lately. It was, as your people might say, an all hands on deck situation."

"Situation?"

Castiel nodded.

"Right. You're... You're okay, right?"