for useinsouciant

[singlemantear]

 continued from here.

Dean doesn't get much sleep. He stays in bed, makes sure Cas gets the sleep he needs, but Dean's too keyed up about what he's going to do the next day to get much more than short, fitful bouts of unconsciousness. His dreams are filled with images of anxiety and pain - the face of his brother, a hoard of Croats chasing him, the scorch mark of angel wings across pavement.

As the sun starts to rise, Dean slides out of bed, careful to not wake up Cas, and goes to prepare for what he's gotta do that day. He covers the dining room floor with sheets that will hopefully soak up the blood, he sterilizes the saw and surgical instruments with alcohol he'd gotten at the hospital and gets all the bandages ready. He feels sick but he's got his game face on - determined to do what Cas has asked of him. He isn't thinking beyond the present moment and the one after that and the one after that. He won't think of the future again until after this is over. Cas needs all his attention.

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[useinsouciant]

Despite his insistence that they get this over and done with, Castiel is still a little reluctant to get out of bed that morning. There will be pain, and blood, and things he's never experienced as an angel. Things that he will likely experience again as a human, but hopefully not to this magnitude. He picks a stray feather up off the mattress, twirling it back and forth in his finger for a moment.

No, it's time.

He moves out into the living room to see everything Dean's set up, and nods his approval. "I think this will work just fine. Later we can burn them in the back yard. I don't want anyone getting a hold of whatever leftover grace they might carry and using it to ill means."

[singlemantear]

Dean catches Cas enter the living room out of the corner of his eye. He feels an immediate panic arise that this is going to happen and soon, but he swallows it down to face him, wanting to put on a calm exterior.

"I'll take care of it," Dean assures him with a nod. Cas will be out of commission for a while after this.

He looks at Cas's wings. Dean hasn't even known them for very long, but he feels a sadness that he's already losing them. He can't imagine what Cas is feeling.

"I'm ready here whenever you are. But take your time. This is...entirely your show."

[useinsouciant]

He's feeling a thousand emotions he doesn't have words for. Has never had to have words for, since he's never had to worry about emotions before. It's completely overwhelming.

Feeling it's the right thing to do, he pulls Dean into a tight hug and kisses his cheek. If he doesn't make it through this, at least he'll have said goodbye to Dean in his own way.

Then, he sits on the sheets that have been laid out. Probably easier for Dean to get leverage that way, and he doesn't have to worry as much about collapsing. "All right," he says, taking a deep breath. "Let's... do this."

[singlemantear]

Dean hugs Cas back tightly, feeling his own wave of emotions break over him. Emotions that he's gotta shove down in order to get through this. Cas is going to be fine, is what he just keeps telling himself.

When Cas sits, Dean readies everything he thinks he'll need.

"Sure you don't want a little of the anesthesia?" he asks, just to doublecheck, even though he knows the answer.

He then hands Cas a rolled up cloth.

"You're going to want to bite down on this so you don't bite your tongue off."

It may also stifle some of the noise. Dean doesn't really want to attract attention to themselves.

[useinsouciant]

"Oh, I wouldn't have thought of that. Thank you." He takes the cloth, fiddling with it a little. Folding and unfolding it.

There's no use delaying the inevitable, so he puts the cloth between his teeth and gives Dean a thumbs up.

[singlemantear]

Dean puts his hand on Cas's shoulder and gives it a squeeze before he then moves it to gently slide through his wing.

"You'll still be you, Cas," Dean says, not sure who he's really assuring. "I'll be as quick as I can, okay?"

He starts looking over the wings, how they connect into Cas's back. The connection is thinner than Dean had imagined - which is good. The bones there aren't as thick or sturdy as something like a leg or arm. They'll be easier to get through - quicker. Or at least, he hopes.

[useinsouciant]

He'll still be him. Somehow, that does reassure him. Greatly. Dean's opinion of him won't change, he'll still be the same in Dean's eyes. He reaches a hand back to pat Dean's ankle in thanks.

He shivers a little at the gentle touch to his wings, but does his best to keep still. The bones are thinner where they connect to his back. And they're hollow, which is -- a blessing, he supposes the phrase is. Like bird wings.

[singlemantear]

Dean takes a calming breath and reaches for the saw.

It doesn't take as long as he thought it might, but it's long enough. Long enough to sear the sound of Cas in complete agony into his brain forever. He holds out longer than Dean had expected too, before he goes unconscious from the pain. Things go quickly after that. Dean can focus solely on the task - being precise and make the cuts clean.

The worst part is trying to remove the remnants of bone enough so he can stitch Cas up. He's careful about cleaning and disinfecting the wounds before he does - not wanting any infection to take hold.

By the time he's done, he's covered in Cas's blood and feathers, but he's satisfied with the job. He bandages him and gives him a shot of morphine which should keep him out a little longer and help take the edge off when he wakes up. He then carefully lays Cas on his stomach on some couch cushions and blankets Dean had laid out earlier.

He then goes about cleaning everything up - carefully wrapping Cas's wings in some clean sheets. He's decided to give them a hunter's funeral when Cas is well enough to take part if he wants to. It feels like the right thing to do. It doesn't feel right to burn them like garbage.

Everything else though, he gathers into a pile and brings them outside to burn immediately - they don't need the smell of blood attracting animals or Croats. When the fire's blazing he strips out of his sweatpants and adds them to the pile before he heads back into the house to get cleaned up in the bath before Cas wakes up.

[useinsouciant]

The first cut is the worst because he wasn't expecting it, wasn't braced for it. He clenches his fists against his thighs and bites down hard on the cloth, trying not to be too loud but unable to entirely help the sounds that are torn from his throat with every movement of the sawblade against his wings. The last of his Grace being cut from him, quite literally. He doesn't regret refusing the anesthetic; he needed to feel this.

At some point, things start to go black around the edges of his vision and for a moment he's terrified he's going blind. Or dying. But he realizes what this is just before it fully takes over him -- he's passing out. From pain, from blood loss, from everything all together. He slumps forward where he sits and he'll probably be grateful for his body shutting down, later.

When he comes to, his body still aches, but not in the way it did before. His fever is gone, and the pain is centralized at the two neatly stitched wounds on his back. Dean had been so careful with him, and Castiel counts himself as lucky to have such a loyal friend.

He tries to say Dean's name, but it comes out rough, barely a whisper.

[singlemantear]

By the time Cas comes to, Dean's cleaned up and in new sweatpants, t-shirt and hoodie. He's sitting up against the wall and reading, but mostly just keeping an eye on Cas, making sure he can see his back move up and down as he breathes.

At the quiet noise that may or may not be his name, Dean is at Cas's side.

"Hey champ," he says as he sits next to him, brushing the hair out of his eyes and not feeling any fever at his brow.

"Welcome back."

He gives Cas a small smile - relieve that he's awake.

[useinsouciant]

"Hey." It's good to see Dean smile again. Glad that this all worked. Glad to be awake again. He returns the smile, tired though it may be, and reaches out to pat Dean's knee in greeting.

"I'd say I feel better, but mostly I just hurt in different ways. But you did well. With everything. Thank you."

[singlemantear]

"You only think that because you're high on morphine and can't see the butcher job I did on your back," Dean deadpans, but there's a lot of relief in his voice too.

"Here, you need to drink some water."

Dean brings a cup with a straw in it to Cas's lips so he can take a sip.

[useinsouciant]

"Well then morphine is fantastic. Hardly feel a thing." Which is a lie, but only a little one. The pain is duller than he thought it would be. Than it should be, he's fairly certain. But he'll find out what it feels like eventually, he's sure, when the drugs wear off.

Cas leans up a little to sip slowly at the water, even though it puts a bit of a strain on his back. The water tastes amazing, coating his dry, screamed-raw throat.

[singlemantear]

"It ain't bad," Dean confirms. He's been on it enough times to know. He doesn't like how it blurs everything though. It's different than the effects of alcohol. Even drunk, Dean is totally in control of himself. Narcotics take that away in a way that he's not comfortable with. But they have their place, and after major surgery is one of them.

"Don't be shy about needing more painkillers, alright? You just let me know."

He grabs a bottle of pills that he had sitting next to him and pours one out into his hand.

"I need you to take one of these if you can. This will make sure you don't get an infection."

[useinsouciant]

"I can do that," he nods. The pill is taken and swallowed with a little difficulty, but he manages. It's mostly the awkward position he's in. Stuck on his stomach like this until he heals more. He doesn't want to rip the stitches, or bleed through the bandages by putting pressure on them.

"You're a hunter," he reminds Dean. "I'm sure you've sewn up worse cuts. I've seen you shove your own shoulder back into place. Impressive."

[singlemantear]

"Uh, can't say I've sewn up something worse than the wounds where someone's wings used to be," he says like Cas is nuts. "I don't think it needs to be said, but you're going to have scars there."

He doesn't want to scare Cas, but he wants to set a realistic expectation. Hopefully they'll heal up better than Dean expects, but there'll be no way around scarring. Dean's no plastic surgeon, that's for sure.

[useinsouciant]

"I was attempting to be encouraging. Optimistic, I think is the word." He knows, though, he'll have scars. Bad ones, likely. But at least they'll be on his back where he doesn't have to look at them every day.

"Where, uh. Where are they?" He's not sure if Dean burned them yet, to keep the scent of blood out of the house.

[singlemantear]

"I'm just glad you made it through," Dean says, the relief he feels coming through in his voice. "Anyway, you know who has scars? Survivors."

He hopes that's more encouraging. It's the truth too. Angel or not, Cas is a strong fucker. If he can survive all this, he's going to be fine.

"Uh, I wrapped them up in some sheets. They're locked in the pantry. I thought maybe, once you're ready and feeling up to it, we could uh, give them sort of a hunter's funeral."

Dean reddens a little as he suggests it. It sounds kind of ridiculous saying it out loud.

"Or not...whatever you want. They're...yours."

[useinsouciant]

"Survivors." He likes the sound of that. He's never survived anything before. Never had to. He'd just gotten on because of his Grace. But now he's survived Falling, becoming mortal. He's survived having his wings taken from him.

The care that Dean had taken with his wings makes him smile, and he reaches over to touch Dean's knee again, squeezing lightly. "Thank you, Dean. I would like that very much."

[singlemantear]

Dean nods, feeling relieved that he's done the right thing by not burning them right away.

"Good," he says. "We'll uh, we'll give 'em a proper send off, like they deserve."

He puts the cap back on the bottle of antibiotics.

"Do you want to try to move to your bed?"

[useinsouciant]

"It might be more comfortable than on the floor, you're right." It takes him a while to stand, moving slowly. Inch by inch, trying not to pull or tear anything. Leaning on Dean for support when he needs to.

"I think, if I can manage it, I'd like to change into the pajama pants. These uh, sweatpants should probably be burned, if there's blood on them." Better safe than sorry.

[singlemantear]

Dean helps Cas up carefully. He can't help but notice how much lighter Cas is without the wings. He'd gotten used to them just being there.

They walk slowly to the bedroom and Dean has Cas stop in the doorway.

"Hold on to the doorjam for a minute while I grab you some clean PJ pants," he says. He doesn't want Cas falling over.

Dean grabs the pants and brings them over, but he knows Cas can't bend over without pulling at his stiches.

"If you uh, want to push those down, I'll help you get these on."

[useinsouciant]

"Right." He takes a deep breath and leans his shoulder against the doorjam and pushes awkwardly at the sweatpants until the fall to the floor. He kicks them away a little, too tired to feel anything like modesty. Besides, Dean has seen him in the bath by now. There's very little of each other they haven't seen.

[singlemantear]

For Dean's part, he does avert his eyes as he squats down and helps guide Cas's feet into the pant legs. He then pulls them up quickly, until the waistband is settled at Cas's hips. Dean spent the morning cutting Cas's wings off and elbow deep in his blood before cleaning him and dressing his wounds. Seeing Cas naked hardly registers at this point.

Once the pants are on, Dean leads Cas over to the bed and helps him lay down on his stomach and get as comfortable as possible. He then covers him with the blankets.

"Is there anything I can get you?" he asks after he's settled.

[useinsouciant]

"I don't think I'll really be hungry for anything for a while," he says, sounding apologetic. The thought of food makes his stomach turn a little. "But I think I can handle some water."

Before Dean can move away, Cas reaches out to take his hand. "I owe you. For today. For saving me. For everything."