Title: The 64th Day
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Fluff, POV Dean
Status: WIP Currently 10k
Summary: When a newly human Cas is gravely injured during a hunt, Dean finds himself reliving the grief he felt when he lost Cas three years ago. Something has changed between the two of them, something Dean cannot deny any longer.
Cas had been human for 64 days before shit hit the fan.
They’d been investigating reports of ritualistic attacks involving “animals” trekking a path across Virginia when it became clear that they were in new territory. It wasn’t until they got a glimpse of one of them that they realized that they weren’t chasing animals or one of their run of the mill monsters, but witches that had somehow found the ability to physically bond with their familiars. Their targets were odd, no discernable connection between them except the fact that they always attacked families with at least two children and the parents’ hearts were missing.
It was a frustrating two weeks of tracking that culminated when they finally cornered the coven in an abandoned warehouse in Suffolk. There were four of them, dressed in ceremonial garb around a candlelit circle in the center of the large room, their chanting voices echoing off of the metal walls around them.
Dean motioned to Sam and Cas, taking the right as the two of them headed into position. He couldn’t see much, aside from the shadows cast by the candlelight, the hoods of the witches’ garb obscuring their faces as they continued to chant.
His stomach lurched as he watched one of the witches lift what appeared to be one of the missing human hearts above her head, blood dripping down the slightly exposed pale skin of her wrists. He looked across the room to see Sam and Cas in position, their eyes flickering between him and the scene in front of them.
Once he gave the go, the room erupted in a blur of movement and feral screams. The witches seemed to still be bound to their respective familiars and Dean started at the bright green eyes staring back at him as one of the witches swatted at him with what looked like a cat’s claws.
He tried to dodge but she was too fast for him, her arm reaching out and tearing a searing series of lines across his bicep.
“You catty bitch,” he scowled, bringing up his gun and putting a bullet between her eyes. He didn’t bother to watch her drop, his attention turned toward the sound of his brother swearing across the room. Sam was pinned, one witch wrapped around his back and weighing him down as another made her way towards him, her jaw unhinged in an unnatural way, fangs glistening in the candlelight as she snarled. His eyes flickered to Cas, who was engaged with the fourth but still on his feet.
He sprinted toward Sam, bodily slamming the snake witch into the wall before grabbing at the arm of the one wrapped around Sam’s neck. His brother let out a relieved breath as Dean pulled her arms free and threw her across the room. Then they drew their weapons and fired, both witches crying out before falling to their final resting place on the floor.
Dean turned just in time to see the fourth slide sickly from Cas’s angel blade and onto the floor, her elongated teeth slowly receding into her bloodied mouth formed in an ‘O’ of surprised horror.
“Well that was a lot easier than it could’ve been,” Sam remarked as he took in the room full of bodies. It was still dim in the room and the sudden quiet loomed around them like a witness.
“Everyone good?” Dean asked, his hand instinctively going up to check the gashes on his arm. He was still bleeding but it wasn’t nothing a few stitches and a bottle of Jack couldn’t cure.
The three of them stood there, silently taking stock of their various scratches and bites for just a moment before Dean caught the sight of movement on the outer corner of the barely lit room. “Cas!” he shouted, but it was too late. The last witch, the head of the coven if her garb was any indication, was already on him, her huge, canine teeth sinking into his neck with ease as her hands snaked around to sink her claws into his chest.
Dean and Sam were on top of her in an instant, both of them firing their witch killing bullets into her body but even as the life faded from her eyes, she refused to let go of Cas. Dean watched with wide eyes as Cas fell to his knees, the witch still wrapped around him, her receding teeth and claws finally letting go of him, her limp body falling to the floor behind him.
“D- De-” Cas tried, but the name was interrupted by the slow flow of blood from his lips.
Dean was on his knees beside him in a second, pulling off his flannel to bundle it up and put pressure on the draining wound in Cas’s neck. “Hey. Hey, look at me. Look at me, Cas,” he said, bringing up his other hand to hold his head steady. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
“I’ll get the car,” Sam said, already heading toward the back entrance where they came in.
“Dean,” Cas’s voice was a gurgle but Dean still heard the plea behind it. Cas’s hand came up to clutch at Dean’s arm as he struggled to inhale, his lung no doubt punctured in several places by the witch’s well placed attack.
Dean swallowed thickly and tried to keep back the panic that wanted to take over his limbs and mind. It didn’t matter whether Cas was human, angel or otherwise. The idea of losing him again –
Dean shook his head and offered Cas a tight smile. “I’m right here, buddy. You’re gonna be okay. Not goin’ out over a fucking witch. Not after everything, okay?” He knew he was saying it more for himself than Cas but he had to say it. Cas would be okay. He had to be.
Cas’ fingers tightened briefly on his arm before his eyes began to drift, his lids falling slightly. He was losing way too much blood. “Cas, come on, buddy. Hang on. Don’t pass out on me.”
Cas seemed to be trying to fight the inevitable but it was only moments before his eyes fell closed completely, his body going limp and Dean felt his throat starting to close up.
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