![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
daylight_darknightStill not sure if shifting the mood from completely serious to completely silly in a story actually works, but I seem to have written this anyway.
Title: Five Times Castiel Healed Dean and One Time He Didn't
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam
Rating: PG for the effects of violence
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Humor
Word Count: 1057
Spoilers: None
Summary: It's very convenient having an all powerful angel at your beck and call. Maybe a bit too convenient.
Notes: Kind of a what if or possibly in an alternate universe. Would be set in season six, but doesn't match with what is currently happening or with the current attitudes of the characters. My muse is still trying to get used to all the personality changes.
Five Times Castiel Healed Dean
And One Time He Didn’t
By Daylight
By the time Castiel arrives he is almost too late, Dean is barely conscious and choking on his own blood.
Castiel immediately kneels down next to Sam who startles so focused on his prayers and on his brother he didn’t notice the angel’s arrival. Castiel heard those desperate prayers and the tone alone sent him racing down to Earth as fast as he could. Sam’s hands are tangled around Dean’s, knuckles white as he refuses to let go.
Quickly taking in Dean’s state, the bloody wounds, the grey features, the blue lips, Castiel gently lays two fingers on his forehead and reaching forward with the power of his grace, pulls the cells of Dean’s body back into the right order.
The effect for the humans is instantaneous. Suddenly, Dean is whole and not even the bloodstains remain.
Sam pulls his healed brother into his arms and Dean, still feeling shaky, lets him.
Over Sam’s shoulder, Dean meets Castiel’s eyes and whispers, “Thanks.”
The angel nods and goes on his way.
******
Tracing Dean’s prayers to their source, Castiel finds him alone, kneeling on the ground in front of a blackened house full of flames. As Castiel gets closer, he sees the burns covering Dean’s back and left side, the clothes charred, the skin a deep red. It is unlikely that the burns will be fatal, but Castiel knows the pain is severe.
He touches Dean’s forehead. The hunter takes in a deep breath as the wounds disappear.
“Thanks. I owe you one,” Dean says as Castiel helps him to his feet.
The sound of the impala can be heard roaring up the driveway towards them.
Dean winces. “Just don’t mention any of this to Sam,” he whispers to the angel.
Castiel frowns, but says nothing when Sam rushes towards them an anxious expression on his face.
******
“Finally” is how Dean greets him when Castiel appears in the motel room. Dean’s voice is slightly slurred by painkillers. He is lying on one of the beds, his left leg propped up on numerous pillows. Sam is pacing on the other side of the room.
“Dean,” says Castiel.
“I’ve gone and busted my damn leg,” Dean explains unnecessarily and winces in pain as he tries to sit up. Sam stops his pacing to glare at him. “And I can’t be laid up for however many months with all this shit going on, so could you please...”
Castiel puts his fingers against Dean’s forehead and the fractured bones are whole again.
Dean swings his legs off the edge of the bed, testing the left one gingerly before setting off in a dance across the room.
“You’re even better than Dr. Sexy,” he says with a large grin.
******
Castiel almost collides with Sam when he arrives.
“He’s your patient now. You deal with him,” the younger brother says before he stomps past Castiel on his way out of the room.
Dean is sitting at the table with a bottle of whisky and a bloody bandage wrapped around his right arm. “Hey, Cas.”
“You’re brother is angry.”
Dean waves it off. “He’s just pissed because I wouldn’t let him dig the bullet out of my arm.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want my arm healed not butchered,” Dean explains. “So if you wouldn’t mind using your angelic fix-me-up powers.”
Castiel performs the healing as he had before.
Dean gives the arm a quick stretch. “Awesome,” he says and finishes off the whisky.
******
When Sam sees Castiel, he rolls his eyes. “Dean, please tell me you didn’t.”
“What?” protests the older brother. “I need him to fix this cut.” He gestures to a long gash across his collar bone.
“What you need is stitches,” Sam counters.
“Stitches are a pain,” Dean whines. “Besides, why waste stitches when we have the walking, instant, first aid kit?”
Castiel narrows his eyes as he looks from one to the other. Then he gazes at Dean’s very non life threatening wound. It didn’t even appear to be bleeding.
“Please, Cas,” Dean begs with his best imitation of his brother’s puppy dog face. “It stings each time I try to move my arms.”
Sighing, the angel places his fingers on Dean’s forehead and complies.
Completely healed, Dean wears a self-satisfied grin. Sam shakes his head.
******
Castiel almost doesn’t come the next time he hears Dean’s prayers. He arrives to find Dean and Sam engrossed in something they’re watching on the television.
“You called,” the angel states.
“Oh, right,” Dean says as if just remembering.
Castiel wonders why Sam is hiding his face in his hands.
“It’s right here,” Dean explains. He points to a spot on the palm of his hand, but Castiel can’t see anything amiss. “I’ve been trying to get the damn thing out for ages.”
Looking closer, Castiel finally spots the problem. “A splinter. You prayed for me to come here and remove a splinter?”
Dean nods. “Like I said, I can’t get it out and it hurts each time I try to grip something, so…” He doesn’t finish distracted by the television screen which has suddenly turned to static. The buzzing of the static becomes louder and more high pitch until with a flash, the TV explodes.
“Um…Cas?” Dean questions hesitantly, slowly bringing down the hands he’d automatically raised in front of his face to look at the angel.
Castiel stares back at him, his jaw set, his eyes full of celestial fury.
Sam dives down behind his bed.
The lightbulbs follow the TV’s example shattering in a shower of sparks. The room starts to shake and a mini whirlwind begins tossing things around the room.
Dean follows his brother’s example and dives for cover,
The maelstrom rages loudly. Paper, books, bags, pillows and even chairs soar through the small space. It lasts for several minutes before finally settling down.
Now sporting several bruises from the flying debris, Dean tentatively peeks out from behind an overturned table.
Castiel is gone, the room left in a state of chaotic destruction.
Behind the far bed, Dean sees Sam giving the room the same cautious survey. “Think I went a bit too far?” Dean asks.
Sam picks up a lamp that miraculous survived Castiel’s outburst and throws it at his brother’s head.
Title: Five Times Castiel Healed Dean and One Time He Didn't
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam
Rating: PG for the effects of violence
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Humor
Word Count: 1057
Spoilers: None
Summary: It's very convenient having an all powerful angel at your beck and call. Maybe a bit too convenient.
Notes: Kind of a what if or possibly in an alternate universe. Would be set in season six, but doesn't match with what is currently happening or with the current attitudes of the characters. My muse is still trying to get used to all the personality changes.
And One Time He Didn’t
By Daylight
By the time Castiel arrives he is almost too late, Dean is barely conscious and choking on his own blood.
Castiel immediately kneels down next to Sam who startles so focused on his prayers and on his brother he didn’t notice the angel’s arrival. Castiel heard those desperate prayers and the tone alone sent him racing down to Earth as fast as he could. Sam’s hands are tangled around Dean’s, knuckles white as he refuses to let go.
Quickly taking in Dean’s state, the bloody wounds, the grey features, the blue lips, Castiel gently lays two fingers on his forehead and reaching forward with the power of his grace, pulls the cells of Dean’s body back into the right order.
The effect for the humans is instantaneous. Suddenly, Dean is whole and not even the bloodstains remain.
Sam pulls his healed brother into his arms and Dean, still feeling shaky, lets him.
Over Sam’s shoulder, Dean meets Castiel’s eyes and whispers, “Thanks.”
The angel nods and goes on his way.
Tracing Dean’s prayers to their source, Castiel finds him alone, kneeling on the ground in front of a blackened house full of flames. As Castiel gets closer, he sees the burns covering Dean’s back and left side, the clothes charred, the skin a deep red. It is unlikely that the burns will be fatal, but Castiel knows the pain is severe.
He touches Dean’s forehead. The hunter takes in a deep breath as the wounds disappear.
“Thanks. I owe you one,” Dean says as Castiel helps him to his feet.
The sound of the impala can be heard roaring up the driveway towards them.
Dean winces. “Just don’t mention any of this to Sam,” he whispers to the angel.
Castiel frowns, but says nothing when Sam rushes towards them an anxious expression on his face.
“Finally” is how Dean greets him when Castiel appears in the motel room. Dean’s voice is slightly slurred by painkillers. He is lying on one of the beds, his left leg propped up on numerous pillows. Sam is pacing on the other side of the room.
“Dean,” says Castiel.
“I’ve gone and busted my damn leg,” Dean explains unnecessarily and winces in pain as he tries to sit up. Sam stops his pacing to glare at him. “And I can’t be laid up for however many months with all this shit going on, so could you please...”
Castiel puts his fingers against Dean’s forehead and the fractured bones are whole again.
Dean swings his legs off the edge of the bed, testing the left one gingerly before setting off in a dance across the room.
“You’re even better than Dr. Sexy,” he says with a large grin.
Castiel almost collides with Sam when he arrives.
“He’s your patient now. You deal with him,” the younger brother says before he stomps past Castiel on his way out of the room.
Dean is sitting at the table with a bottle of whisky and a bloody bandage wrapped around his right arm. “Hey, Cas.”
“You’re brother is angry.”
Dean waves it off. “He’s just pissed because I wouldn’t let him dig the bullet out of my arm.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want my arm healed not butchered,” Dean explains. “So if you wouldn’t mind using your angelic fix-me-up powers.”
Castiel performs the healing as he had before.
Dean gives the arm a quick stretch. “Awesome,” he says and finishes off the whisky.
When Sam sees Castiel, he rolls his eyes. “Dean, please tell me you didn’t.”
“What?” protests the older brother. “I need him to fix this cut.” He gestures to a long gash across his collar bone.
“What you need is stitches,” Sam counters.
“Stitches are a pain,” Dean whines. “Besides, why waste stitches when we have the walking, instant, first aid kit?”
Castiel narrows his eyes as he looks from one to the other. Then he gazes at Dean’s very non life threatening wound. It didn’t even appear to be bleeding.
“Please, Cas,” Dean begs with his best imitation of his brother’s puppy dog face. “It stings each time I try to move my arms.”
Sighing, the angel places his fingers on Dean’s forehead and complies.
Completely healed, Dean wears a self-satisfied grin. Sam shakes his head.
Castiel almost doesn’t come the next time he hears Dean’s prayers. He arrives to find Dean and Sam engrossed in something they’re watching on the television.
“You called,” the angel states.
“Oh, right,” Dean says as if just remembering.
Castiel wonders why Sam is hiding his face in his hands.
“It’s right here,” Dean explains. He points to a spot on the palm of his hand, but Castiel can’t see anything amiss. “I’ve been trying to get the damn thing out for ages.”
Looking closer, Castiel finally spots the problem. “A splinter. You prayed for me to come here and remove a splinter?”
Dean nods. “Like I said, I can’t get it out and it hurts each time I try to grip something, so…” He doesn’t finish distracted by the television screen which has suddenly turned to static. The buzzing of the static becomes louder and more high pitch until with a flash, the TV explodes.
“Um…Cas?” Dean questions hesitantly, slowly bringing down the hands he’d automatically raised in front of his face to look at the angel.
Castiel stares back at him, his jaw set, his eyes full of celestial fury.
Sam dives down behind his bed.
The lightbulbs follow the TV’s example shattering in a shower of sparks. The room starts to shake and a mini whirlwind begins tossing things around the room.
Dean follows his brother’s example and dives for cover,
The maelstrom rages loudly. Paper, books, bags, pillows and even chairs soar through the small space. It lasts for several minutes before finally settling down.
Now sporting several bruises from the flying debris, Dean tentatively peeks out from behind an overturned table.
Castiel is gone, the room left in a state of chaotic destruction.
Behind the far bed, Dean sees Sam giving the room the same cautious survey. “Think I went a bit too far?” Dean asks.
Sam picks up a lamp that miraculous survived Castiel’s outburst and throws it at his brother’s head.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-10 01:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-10 02:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-10 09:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-10 07:45 pm (UTC)Sam picks up a lamp that miraculous survived Castiel’s outburst and throws it at his brother’s head.
Oh Dean! You idiot! Still, that should teach you.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-14 09:02 pm (UTC)somehow that is so very Dean....
(no subject)
Date: 2011-03-31 08:30 am (UTC)