Archive of Our Own ^beta

           Sam can feel the blood seeping into his coat. He tries to ignore it.

            Dean is already headed out for the bar, after telling them that he’s not planning on coming back that night. Nothing like a hookup to distract Dean from a calamitous hunt.

            Sam knows he needs to get the first-aid kit, go to the bathroom and clean his wound before stitching it up, but he can’t tear himself away from Cas, sitting on the bed, staring off into nothing and looking dejected. Well, he watched four of his siblings die today.  He killed two of them himself. He’s bound to be a little messed up.

            He needs Sam and Sam’s comfort right now, needs a shoulder to lean on, and the last thing he needs is to worry about Sam and his injury.

            “Cas,” Sam says, wincing as he bends his body to sit next to him. “I’m sorry.”

            Cas blinks at him, those big, sad eyes nearly tearing Sam’s heart in two. “They would have killed you,” he rasps. “I could not allow that to happen.”

            “I know,” Sam says, because he stabbed one himself to protect Cas and Dean, he knows better than most how it feels to fear for those you love. But they weren’t his siblings. “I’m still sorry.”

            Angels don’t cry but they do grieve. Cas turns into Sam, throws his arms around him and pulls himself close, burying himself in Sam as if Sam can hide him from the world, as if Sam can shield him from the reality of four of his siblings, two of them old soldiers from his garrison, trying to kill him and his new family. At least, Sam can shield him from the reality until Cas’ hand works its way under Sam’s jacket, making Sam hiss and tense as his fingers find the bloody gash.

            “Sam?” Cas asks, already pulling back, reaching to pull Sam’s jacket aside, revealing the bloody stain, still wet and growing. Cas’ face sets, hardening. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “I was going to take care of it,” Sam defends quietly. “Right after I knew you were okay.”

            Cas is up and gone, going to Sam’s bag for the first aid kit. “Jacket and shirt off,” he instructs over his shoulder and Sam complies, wincing as the material pulls away from the wound, as he has to contort his body to remove the clothing. Finally, he’s bare from the waist up, the deep gash just under his ribs clearly visible.

            Cas looks it over and begins to clean it, efficiently and quietly, just as he’s observed Sam and Dean do hundreds of times before, just as he himself has been doing for a while now. He begins the stiches, still quiet, making neat, efficient stitches that Sam would be proud of if it didn’t hurt so much.

            But Cas doesn’t give Sam an awkward clap on the shoulder and walk off when he’s done, instead, he finishes dressing the would and sits beside Sam once more. “You need to tell me these things,” he admonishes gently.

            Sam shrugs. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he offers.

            “You were very nearly not okay,” Cas counters. He sighs. “I can grieve for my siblings later, Sam, but would you have made me add you to the list of today’s dead?”

            “It wasn’t that bad,” Sam protests.

            “It could have been,” Cas says. “And I won’t lose you, not for anything, but especially not for this.” He stands. “I am going to get you something to drink, to help with the blood loss. Lie down, Sam, please. I will be right back.”

            Sam does as bid, and sure enough Cas returns with a bottle of orange juice that Sam drinks quickly, tossing the empty container into the trash.

            He lies back down. The juice helped a bit but he’s weak and tried right now, and lying down seems to be the best option.

            Cas crawls into bed beside him and gently drags Sam until Sam’s good side is presses against Cas, his head on Cas’ chest, and Cas’ fingers gently stroking Sam’s hair. Sam relaxes and lets his eyes drift shut. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

            Cas sighs deeply. “Don’t be,” he says. “Just don’t…don’t die on me, Sam. Don’t leave me. I can face anything that happens, with you here by my side. Do not take that away from me, please.”

            “I won’t,” Sam promises, turning his head to kiss Cas’ chest. “I won’t, Cas, I won’t. Not going anywhere.”