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]

"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."

[singlemantear]

Dean looks down at their hands and then back up to Cas.

"Nah, just means we're even now," he says. "You already saved me. Couple times."

He squeezes Cas's hand before he moves away to go get him some more water. He grabs Cas's discarded sweatpants and brings them to the pantry. He'll add them to the pyre when they burn Cas's wings.

Dean returns to the bedroom with a full glass of water with a straw in it.

"Here, drink," he says, lifting the straw to where Cas can reach it.

[useinsouciant]

And he does, feeling some sense of guilt that he can't do anything for himself right now. He can barely move, much less sit up and take a water glass. So he lets Dean give him water, like some helpless baby bird.

"How long do you think the stitches will take to heal? Not entirely, but enough for me to move a little?"

[singlemantear]

"Probably a week," Dean says. "Although you may be able to move more freely in 4 to 5 days. We'll have to see how they're doing. But the more you can stay immobile, the quicker the healing will go."

But that won't mean just laying around. It'll be important for Cas to be up and about some of the day too. As long as he just does some walking, it shouldn't bother his stitches too much.

"And believe me, you'll know when they're really starting to heal because they're going to itch like hell."

[useinsouciant]

Cas blinks in realization. "I've never itched before. I don't really know what the sensation will feel like. I assume it's uncomfortable."

[singlemantear]

Dean huffs out a laugh. He hadn't really thought of that.

"Yeah, it's annoying," Dean confirms. "Doesn't hurt but sometimes pain is better. It will make you kinda want to claw your skin off."

Luckily, Cas won't be able to do that with where his wounds are situated. That'll be a blessing and a curse. He'll have to give Cas some kind of blunt back scratcher to relieve some of the annoyance - as long as he's scratching over the bandages.

"But, it's temporary. And the lady who lived her had enough lotions that we can keep you well moisturized as long as you don't mind smelling like sweetpea and lavender. It should help."

[useinsouciant]

"I enjoy lavender. Bees are very fond of lavender. I've stood in the fields for days, probably, watching their paths. It's very calming."

He takes more water before setting his head at the pillow. "Will you continue sharing the bed with me? I know if you don't, you'll end up sleeping in the chair. And besides, I sleep better listening to your breathing."

[singlemantear]

Cas and bees. He'll never understand it. But whatever makes him happy. There's not much of that to go around these days.

"As long as you don't think me moving around in the bed will cause you pain," Dean says. It's not like the mattress is one of those fancy ones that advertises how you won't feel your partner move next to you. Dean thinks those ads are probably lies anyway.

[useinsouciant]

"It hasn't disturbed me the past few nights. If you've moved, I haven't noticed at all." He's slept better the past two nights than he's ever slept since becoming mortal. He's fairly certain it has to do with Dean being close by.

"Besides. You'll be near by, if anything happens. If I need you."

[singlemantear]

Cas doesn't have to convince Dean. He planned on staying close, at least for the first night. If Cas wakes up in pain or needs to get up to use the bathroom, Dean wants to be able to be there to help him. He'll also sleep better knowing Cas is within reach.

"Alright," he says.

"How are you feeling now? Need any more pain meds?"

[useinsouciant]

"My back feels..." He furrows his brow and tries to think of a word, unused to judging levels of pain. "Sharper. It was sort of a distant throb, before." He's not sure if those are the right words, if that means the pain is better or worse, but that's all he has right now.

"It's not as bad as -- before. During."

[singlemantear]

"Well, I would hope it wouldn't be as bad as during," Dean says. "If that was the case, I'd be really fucking worried."

But it does sound like the morphine is wearing off.

"Let me get you a Percocet though. It'll take that sharp edge off before it gets even sharper."

Dean goes to the pantry where he's locked up all the hospital stuff and grabs the prescription bottle before returning to the bedroom.

"Here, take this."

He hands Cas one pill. He doesn't want to give him too much at once.

"If that doesn't do enough, let me know. You can take up to two every 4 hours."

[useinsouciant]

He frowns a little, not sure why Dean wouldn't just give him two if he can take two. But Dean's in control of the medications, and Cas hurts too much to argue. He just swallows his pill and sighs, closing his eyes.

"I know you wanted to think I'd have some Grace left. Something to heal me. But I don't think there's anything in me anymore, Dean. I'm just... a person."

[singlemantear]

Dean puts the pills on the nightstand next to Cas's water, so he can take more if he needs to. He thinks that he should maybe have a talk with Cas about how painkillers can be addictive but decides it can wait until the dude's not hours post getting his damn wings cut off.

"You're not just anything, Cas," Dean says. "Alright? Yeah, it'll take you longer to heal as a human but you're strong and you're gonna be fine."

[useinsouciant]

"I know that this wasn't something you wanted to do, Dean. I know it was hard for you. You are so much stronger than you think. We will get through this together. I'll survive. Because of you."

He pats the bed next to him, trying to settle in as comfortably as possible. "You deserve rest, as well."