[ It goes to show how far gone he is currently that Castiel is barely aware of Dean approaching before the man speaks behind him. He's had to pull his senses in, conserving energy where he could. It leaves him feeling crippled, blinded... grounded in all the wrong ways. He's come to see himself akin to the kite in his favourite Heaven, free to fly, yet pleasantly tethered to the ground below, pulled down by mortal hands but never shackled down. Now he feels like he's well and truly crashed, and he misses the wind in his wings.
He doesn't remember much from the latter part of those three days, lost in a haze of pain and hallucinations. He does remember I'm here, I've got you, and closing his eyes just in time to catch a tear from falling.
It felt like the ringing of heaven's bells, like Enochian ringing out: Castiel has been saved.
It doesn't sit right with him to be gripped tight and raised from perdition by the man he considers his charge, but perhaps they were due that role reversal.
A small line between his brows, otherwise he barely reacts at first. His expression softens eventually, deciding that this is safe. Dean is steadying him. It's not something even someone as foolish as him could misconstrue. ]
I had not planned on telling him.
[ The admission is soft, gaze slowly lifting from Sam to Dean. Castiel looks pale despite his tanned skin, blue eyes hazy with pain. He does stop the flow of grace, however, and allows Dean to lead him out of the room. It wouldn't do to wake Sam now. ]
You haven't been sleeping.
[ That is something he wouldn't miss, ever, no matter how far fallen or how hurt. Dean's well-being comes second to none. But just as he says it, voice pitched soft so as not to disturb Sam or Ellever in the other room, Castiel winces, hand curling around Dean's arm and gripping tight as he has to shift his wings through the doorway, putting strain on breaks and fractures that can hardly take more of that. ]
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He doesn't remember much from the latter part of those three days, lost in a haze of pain and hallucinations. He does remember I'm here, I've got you, and closing his eyes just in time to catch a tear from falling.
It felt like the ringing of heaven's bells, like Enochian ringing out: Castiel has been saved.
It doesn't sit right with him to be gripped tight and raised from perdition by the man he considers his charge, but perhaps they were due that role reversal.
A small line between his brows, otherwise he barely reacts at first. His expression softens eventually, deciding that this is safe. Dean is steadying him. It's not something even someone as foolish as him could misconstrue. ]
I had not planned on telling him.
[ The admission is soft, gaze slowly lifting from Sam to Dean. Castiel looks pale despite his tanned skin, blue eyes hazy with pain. He does stop the flow of grace, however, and allows Dean to lead him out of the room. It wouldn't do to wake Sam now. ]
You haven't been sleeping.
[ That is something he wouldn't miss, ever, no matter how far fallen or how hurt. Dean's well-being comes second to none. But just as he says it, voice pitched soft so as not to disturb Sam or Ellever in the other room, Castiel winces, hand curling around Dean's arm and gripping tight as he has to shift his wings through the doorway, putting strain on breaks and fractures that can hardly take more of that. ]