Hunting Season // A Destiel Fanfic (AU)

Examination- Amputation?

Thursday // 10:06 am

Castiel watches Dean, not sure how to answer. He doesnt stop his movements, hoping they are helping. "You are... gentler than the previous people who owned me."

Dean nods and can tell the alcohol is starting to course through his vains. But he still drinks a few more until he's a little tipsy.

When he is drunk enough, a single tear drips down his left cheek as he lays back. He sniffs and loosely holds an empty bottle by its neck in one hand.

Castiel watches him lapse into intoxication, a bit worried about the man. "Why... why are you crying?" He asks, reaching to wipe away the tear like Dean had for him, frowning.

Dean glanced at Castiel with sad, tired eyes. "I'm not crying... I'm letting myself go again...." Dean mumbled and set the bottle down on the coffee table before laying back again. When he felt Castiel's hand on his cheek, he placed his hand on top of Castiel's to hold it there. "I didn't mean for dad to go and be that fucking stupid... You forgive me right?" More tears began to flood his eyes.

Castiel isnt sure what he is talking about and opens his mouth to say so. But he sees the tears in Deans eyes and wants to do whatever he can to fix them. He keeps his hand on his face. "Of course," he whispers, unsure. "It wasnt your fault."

Dean sniffed and took his hand off of Castiel's to then pull him into a hug, crying into the angels shoulder a little. "I just want Sammy, anybody...." he whined and silently cried.

Castiel stiffens for a moment but forces himself to relax and hugs Dean back, closing his eyes. "I am here," he offers weakly, although he knows it probably doesnt mean much. He's just an angel, so much less than a person.

Thursday // 10:35 am

Dean cried for awhile more until he gradually stopped, falling asleep on Castiel. His body going limp so most of his weight falls onto Castiel.

Castiel easily supports Dean. Now that he has eaten and rested, a lot of his strength is returning to him. He stands, scooping Dean up with him and carrying him into the bedroom. He lies Dean down, joining him and then pulling the covers over them both as he snuggles closer to the man. He closes his eyes, wanting to make Dean feel better.

Thursday // 12:24 pm

There is a loud knock on the door. Dean shifts in his sleep, but doesn't wake up. Castiel laid awake meanwhile.

Castiel frowns and looks at Dean a moment before he stands up and walks to the door, keeping his wings as folded as they can go. He bows his head in respect as he opens the door. "Hello?"

It was a chubby man ever so slightly shorter than Castiel with a black wool coat and a briefcase. "Dean here?" It was Crowley.

"Dean is asleep, is there anything I can do for you?" Castiel asks, frowning.

He nodded and peek inside to notice Castiel's wings. "I assume you're the angel I need to look at?"

"Yes, sir," Castiel murmurs and steps out of the way so he can come in

Crowley nodded and stepped inside. He noticed the bottles of empty beer and glanced at Castiel before placing his briefcase down on its side on the kitchen table. "What is your name?"

"Castiel, sir," Cas answers, obviously afraid of this man doctors have always hurt him.

Crowley nodded and pulled on some latex black gloves. "Okay Castiel, stretch out those wings as far as you can without hurting them even more..." Crowley steps towards Castiel.

Castiel keeps his eyes on the ground as he stretches out his wings to about half of what their span should be.

Crowley examines and eventually touched Castiel's wings. "I'm gonna feel around, if you move, I might hurt them even more..."

Castiel doesn't react in pain when Crowley touches them, despite the agony it causes. "Alright."

Crowley slowly felt around each wing, from base to tip before taking his hands and gloves off. "Your Ulna is broken into about two pieces and your carpals seemed to be disconnected in general... whoever did this to you has a strange way of showing 'fun'."

Castiel keeps his eyes on the ground. "It wasnt Dean," he quickly assures, not wanting this man to think that of him.

Crowley nodded. "I think we'll try casting to see how that goes, but worse case— they'll be amputated..."

Castiel feels panic go through him at the thought. "You cant!"

Crowley sighed, "Two to four weeks of casting should help heal them, but you cannot work at them..."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asks. "I cant move them?"

Crowley nodded, "You have to try to not touch them or move them until they're healed..." Crowley glanced over to see the lump that is Dean under the covers in the bed, "Aand how much did Dean drink?"

"A lot," Castiel says and sighs deeply. "Then he fell asleep."

Crowley sighed and started to pack up. "Well tell him to call me when he wakes up...." Crowley then left.

Castiel returns to bed and curls up to Dean again, sighing.