Ordinary World

"Dean..." Upon the sound of his name, the injured man opened his eyes slowly, finding that his gaze rested on a blurry figure standing over him, it's head tilted to the side, and the expression on its face unable to be seen by him, let alone read. He was tempted to move his hands to rub his eyes clear, but he knew the attempt would just send waves of pain coursing through his body like they always did, and so he simply blinked the lack of vision away, until he could see clearly. The ever familiar suit and tie paired with a dirty, tan trench coat was a welcome sight, and he pulled the corners of his mouth into a small smile, the cut on his lip stretching slightly, a scab coming loose and falling down his chin.

"Cas," he mumbled, his voice rough yet breathy, far more scratched up than usual. This made Castiel wince inwardly, for this was not the voice he was used to. This was not the Dean he was oh so used to seeing. This was a broken man, a man that was like this because of him, because he hadn't been fast enough to save him. And how he was powerless to help, anything he could do stripped of him at the worst of times. He had to simply stand beside and watch his best friend slip away, the doctor's doing everything they could to help, though nothing seemed to work. Dean didn't say anything else for a while, but he looked up at the fallen angel expectantly, as if he expected Castiel to simply touch his forehead and make it all okay; take all his pain away.

Seeing this broke Castiel's heart a little more, and he clenched his fist and allowed his eyes to flutter shut, their blue gaze shrouded in darkness. Upon seeing this gesture, Dean frowned and began to look his friend up and down, noticing two things right off the bat. There was a scratch, a deep one, from the looks of it, considering the stitches, right under his hair line, and his right arm was help up in a sling. He knew something was wrong then, for those injuries would be healed by now. Castiel was an angel of the lord... he could heal himself pretty much instantly, and heal others in the same amount of time. But it seemed he couldn't now, and why that was, Dean didn't want to know.

But he asked anyway.

"What happened to you?" The angel opened his eyes, and one could plainly see the sparkle of tears beginning to well up in them, though they were held back and didn't dare fall. For the longest time, he simply held the hunter's gaze, before turning his head away from him completely, hidden from view as a single tear finally did slide down his cheek.

"I've fallen, Dean. I am completely and shamefully.... human." His voice was hardly a whisper, and Dean had to strain in order to hear it, and the words brought only more pain than he could have ever expected. He allowed his head to sink into the hospital pillow, and both his hand clenched the sheets of the bed. He was glad Castiel was turned away from him, for he couldn't stop the tears that poured down his cheeks for a few brief seconds. He wasn't about to let his best friend, his savior, see him over something that wasn't his problem.

Though, Dean did blame himself at that moment. He blamed himself for ever allowing Castiel to care so much about him, letting him into that room to try and wring answers from that demon, Alastair. But most of all, he blamed himself for not noticing the devil's trap had been overrun. Ruined by a damn leaky pipe. In his mind, none of this was the angel's fault. He had only been doing what he thought was right, and that was an honorable trait. What Dean did... he knew was wrong, and he never once fought back against the persuasion telling him he had to do it. Oh, how we wish he had.

Castiel finally turned around, and though he had obviously wiped them away, his injured companion could see the stains of the tears on his cheeks. He wants to reach out then, wipe away the remaining evidence of them with his thumb, and he even lifted his hand to do so, but soon let it fall as his arm arched, and sent a pain all through his hand. Instead, he simply watched as the angel moved slowly to sit in the chair beside him, groaning as he settled, an obvious hint to the pain he too, was in. A pain he was not used to before now.

Castiel went on to explain why Sam wasn't with them at the moment. He was out hunting down every last one of Alastair's puppets, and hearing it made Dean frown deeply. His brother would be hyped up on the demon blood he couldn't seem to step away from, and he couldn't be stopped now. A fallen angel and hunter that was bed ridden would be no match for a vengeful brother, and they both knew it so well. Too well, in fact.

A sudden pain in Dean's side brought his head up, and despite the protest in the rest of his body, he sat up quickly, both his hands flying to the source of the pain, as if it was on his skin. But it was under the surface, and despite the hold he had on it, it still coursed through the area. His jaw clenched and a groan escaped his throat, not caring that now his nails were digging into the skin through the hospital gown. Castiel watched for a moment, his whole body straightened up in alarm, and he waited a few seconds to see if Dean got through it, but he didn't. In a quick, surprisingly inhuman movement, his hand flew to where Dean's was, and for lack of anything else to do, the hunter grabbed it in a slow reaction, their fingers intertwining within seconds. Castiel allowed his friend to squeeze his hand till it turned red, and did so without protest. He never had a hand to hold in times of need, and this was a time of need, and the angel intended for his hand to be the one that would be held.

How relieved he was to see a nurse walk in at the knick of time, rushing to Dean's side when she saw the pain that laced through his features. She gently placed her hands on the hunters shoulders and pushed him back against the bed, Cas moving forward in order to avoid loosing his grip of Dean's hand. It took but a few minutes for the nurse to do her thing, and allowed him to rest with little pain, though whatever she did caused him to fall asleep rather quickly, and his grip on Castiel's hand loosened and his fingers fell away. Without a word, the woman exited the room, no doubt to tell the doctor about what had just went down. A worried look painted Castiel's face as he pulled away from Dean, and he sat back in his chair and kept watch, worrying himself to fight the fatigue that slowly came over him, another feeling he thought he should never feel.

---

It was the next day when Dean opened his eyes again, and once again, Castiel was there to greet him, though not in the manner he would expect. The angels head was resting on the back of the chair, his dark brown hair unkempt, probably from shifting in his sleep, and his slow breathing indicated he was certainly not among the waking world. Not wanting to wake him, Dean bit back any sounds he could have made as he propped himself up on his elbows, green gaze shifting to look out the window. It was dark outside, meaning it was either late night or early morning, he couldn't tell, and didn't have a clock in the immediate vicinity to check. He watched the still world outside for a few moments, before leaning back into the bed, the frame creaking in protest. This small sound made Castiel stir himself from sleep, and he took a moment to let reality sink in before looking over to where the hunter lay, his eyes closed in peaceful silence.

He simply watched for a few moments, before pulling himself from the chair and lightly stepping towards the door and out into the hallway, Dean paying no mind to his departure. He made his way to the reception desk right away, the nurse managing it looking up with tired eyes. She managed to give the man a smile though, for he was her patient when he too was bed ridden, injured from the brawl he and Alastair partook in after he dare stop him from killing Dean. Castiel leaned on the counter with his good arm, blinking slowly.

"How is he?" His voice gently cracked for a second, for the thought of Dean being no better weighed heavy on him. Like Dean, he blamed himself for all of this happening, and knowing the hunter was fighting death right now was enough to drive him over the edge of a cliff he had been standing on for a long time, itching closer and thinking about throwing himself off every single day. But luckily, the fear of no improvement was rebutted, for the nurse smiled broadly.

"Great! I think he may be ready to go home within a week." Her voice was cheerful despite her obvious fatigue, and upon hearing it, Castiel allowed a large grin to pull the corners of his mouth up, showing off two rows of white teeth. The words wrapped themselves around him and pulled him close in warm embrace, for within a week, he would be able to take Dean away from this place, call Sam, and reunite the three of them. Team Free Will once again.

---

It was on the fifth day of that week that Dean showed a major improvement. He could finally stand and walk around short distances without a lot of pain, and though he had to use a pair of crutches, he was obviously strong enough to support himself, though a few times he would almost slip, and Castiel's arm would have to be there to catch him. Once, when Dean thought he could walk without the crutches, he fell forward, and Castiel who had his arm out of the sling by then, let his arms slink down and catch him, helping him up and back to the bed. That process went on for about a day, and at last, the hunter could stand with only his hand on the angel's shoulder for support.

And just like that, the week was over, and Castiel could not have been happier to talk out the front doors of the medical center, taking a deep breath of the fresh air as he felt Dean's arm sling across his neck. He looked over to see the hunter smiling at him, obviously overjoyed to be out.

"We made it, Cas. We're alive," he breathed, letting his arm slide from where it rested on Cas' shoulders. In a hasty response, Castiel dug out the keys to the impala from his trench coat, and handed them to Dean, who clutched them in his hand before looking at them in disbelief. "Baby?" Castiel nodded, waving his hand off to where he could see the parked car.

"I had Sam bring... her over, ready to drive for when you got out." His speech was hesitated for a second when he referred to the car as a her instead of an it, for Dean liked it when others addressed the impala like it was a person and not an object. The next thing that happened was surprising, for Castiel was suddenly pulled from his spot, and was soon held against Dean as the hunter gripped him tight across the shoulders in a bear hug, their chests touching.

"Thank you," Dean muttered, his voice muffled because of where the lower half of his head rested on the nook of Castiel's neck. It took the angel a moment, but at last he wrapped his arms in a lighter hug around Dean's lower back, holding the motion for a moment before they both pulled away, and the hunter was taking long strides towards the car. With a chuckle and a smile, Cas followed, climbing into the passengers seat as they came up to and unlocked the car. Within minutes they were on the road, intending to check into the nearest hotel and have Sam meet them there.

---

"King sized bed?" Dean rolled his eyes at the receptionist, who smiled in amusement of his own joke. Sure, it made Dean laugh on the inside, but he hid it well, while Castiel chuckled behind him. "Two twins it is." Dean nodded his time, quickly grabbing the two key cards he was handed, handing one to Castiel as he began to walk back outside and onto the balcony that all the rooms shared. Though he hesitated a moment, the other man finally followed, and soon enough they were in the room and everything was settled. Sam was on his way, and now only the night awaited. The drive had taken a bit out of Dean, and so as he lay on his back in his own bed, he was falling asleep within a minute, Castiel sitting on his own bed and watching the darkness intrude upon the room.

Though he too was asleep soon enough, but it was far from peaceful. His dreams were laced with nightmares, all having something to do with what had happened to himself and Dean. He saw Alastair in his dreams, and what he saw him do was enough to drive him mad, if anything. Alastair had a knife at Dean's throat, and before Castiel could move or yell out, he cut, allowing the hunter to fall to the ground, gasping desperately for air. The angel yelled, but no words came out of his throat, and he was trapped in silence.

His eyes shot opened them, and he felt himself being shaken, a strong grip on his shoulders as he was pulled into a sitting position. Dean was in front of him, sitting on his knees as he held Castiel up. The angel moved his hand and touched his friend's elbow, just to make sure he was real. He was, and relieved, the terrified man pulled him into a tight embrace, his hand moving to rest on the back of Dean's neck.

"Cas, what happened? You yelled my name in your sleep..."

"A nightmare, bu-but it's over now." He heard Dean sigh against his shoulder, and felt his hand rub a few circles in his back in a comforting gesture, until his breath was back to normal and he could finally pull away and not feel hopelessly alone. He allowing himself to flop back down into a laying position, staring up at the ceiling even as Dean did the same next to him. He was drifting off to sleep when he felt a hand on his chest, and in instinct, he covered it with his own, welcoming the feel of their fingers locking together.

"It's okay, I'm here."

----

Okay. Weee. This is my... 80th attempt at any sort of writing for a long time now, and I am really proud of this one. Not only because I usually hate my writing, but because... DESTIEL, HELLO. No but honestly, for those that don't know, I do ship Dean and Castiel from Supernatural. Deal with it. It's canon and none of you are changing that. :'D

Characters and Supernatural [c] Warner Brothers
Writing and Idea [c] Me |D
Lyrics [c] Red

Word Count :: 2588
Time Taken :: Three hours

"Don't go," She whispered lightly, her voice sending shivers down his spine.

Licking his lips, he turned to her, confusion tinted in his expression. "You need rest." He mumbled, staring down at her with a series of emotions that Michael couldn't decipher.

"No," Diana shook her head, "What I need is you." She whispered, her hand finding its way in his hair as she pulled him down on her.

"Diana..." He whispered, trying hard not to let himself cave. Grasping her hands, Michael pulled them away from himself, "sleep."

A silence overcame them as Diana parted her lips several times to say something until finally, she managed to speak. "I need you to love me." She whispered.

Michael's body fell limp though as he fought to keep himself contained, "I already love you."

Shaking her head again, Diana strained her face as she tried to decipher what exactly what she wanted to say next. "I need you to show me."

Staring into her eyes to make sure she was in her right mind and not at all high as he expected her to be just moments ago, Michael bit the inside of his cheek. "Diana..."

"Please," She whispered, almost in a whimper as she held his upper arms, her fingers deep in his skin. "I need this."

Staring into the haze in her eyes, he didn't see what he expected to be lust but instead, he saw desperation, the want of reassurance that everything was going to be okay between them. Not wasting any more time, Michael sighed gently, his lips capturing hers in a sweet kiss.

Gasping against his lips from the bolt of electricity that they never felt before shot through us, Diana gripped the back of his head, arching her body into his as she deepened the kiss even further.

Kicking off his shoes, Michael lowered the blanket slowly off of her body, resting in between her legs as his hands ran up and down her sides, claiming her lips as his own.

Letting out a soft moan of appreciation the second she felt his lips travel down to her neck, Diana gripped around his neck as he began sucking on her flesh, careful enough to pleasure her but not too rough to mark her.

Sliding his hands up under her shirt, Michael slowly pulled it up inch by inch meanwhile kissing every section of her body that revealed itself to him, starting from her lower stomach, up and across it and over each of her breasts before finally pulling away enough to drag her shirt off and onto the floor.

Looking down at her, Michael stifled a sharp breath, his eyes taking in what was his. Flicking his eyes to look up at her, he took hold of the base of her neck before grazing his teeth against the side of her jaw and up to her ear where bit down on her lope earning a small groan.

Chuckling lightly to himself, he pulled away, grasping the ends of his t-shirt as he drew it off of his body and off to the side, meeting Diana's on the floor.

Instantly, like a magnet, Diana pressed a chaste kiss to his chest, her tongue swirling along with it.

In-taking sharply, Michael grasped the back of Diana's head, pulling her up to look at him as he leaned down, pressing his lips feverishly to hers as he laid her back down. Turning his head to get her at a better angle, he grasped her hips, sliding her up a bit before skimming his fingers against the top rim of her jeans.

Bucking her hips in indication that she wanted them off, he smirked against her lips, taking his sweet time to unbutton them and slowly run them down her legs that seemed to go on for miles.

Sliding down to the heels of her feet, Michael discarded her jeans before taking her left leg and trailing kisses from her ankle, across her thigh, making sure to nip the inner side all the way until he met Diana's lips once more.

"Stop teasing..." Diana muttered breathlessly, "Please."

"Your wish is my command baby," Unbuckling his belt, he slid it off before undoing his jeans and taking them off as well. Leveling against her, Michael placed each hand of his on hers, interlocking their fingers as he held them up above her head. "Ready?"

Nodding, Diana bit her lip, her eyes closed as she tried to relax herself for what's to come.

"Look at me," He nudged his nose against hers, his breath clashing simultaneously with hers.

Peeling her eyes open, Diana nearly gasped at the intensity that flew from his gaze to hers.

With one peck on the lips, Michael swiftly entered her, careful not to go all the way so that Diana felt him inch by inch, a sensation that no girl could deny.

Rolling her eyes back in pure bliss, a moan flew from her lips as Diana whispered his name endlessly in a wanting manner. "Oh my God..." She gasped as Michael managed to fill her completely.

Pressing his lips against hers, Michael sucked her bottom lip between his, nibbling before slipping his tongue in and against Diana's.

Digging her fingernails into his hand, Diana groaned once she felt her tongue being played with his.

Drawing himself back, he thrusted back into her slowly once more deciding to take his time with her. "I love you," He murmured against her lips as he pulled away.

"I love you too," She looked up at him with nothing but admiration.

Releasing the hold on her hands, he took her hips into his palms, fastening his pace a bit but enough to still have the thriving perception driving her crazy.

Taking this as her opportunity to run her fingers through his hair, Diana did just that as she pulled at the ends, her hips bucking to meet his. "Michael," She panted, her head tilting back, revealing the arching of her neck.

Dipping his head down, he began sucking on the sweetest spot she contained that he knew drove her mad. Tracing the bite mark with his tongue, he smoothed it over with a kiss.

Wrapping her legs around him, Diana drew him even closer as she held his face in her hands, her lips on his instantly.

Pulling away, Diana tucked her head back against the pillow as she let out a shallow breath, her nails on his shoulders once more. "Michael..." She whispered, her thighs tightening against Michael's sides as she let out a shaky breath.

Knowing she was near the edge, Michael leaned down, giving her a sweet kiss as he hastened his movements inside of her and within just three more thrusts, Diana caved against him, her body going rigid before falling limp, Michael's body crashing down against hers.

Pressing her forehead against her damp shoulder, he circled his arms around her waist as they both fought to bring themselves down from their high. Taking in a deep breath as Diana's fingers raked through his hair, he placed several comforting kisses on her burning skin.

After a while of comfortable silence, Diana still had her fingers in his hair once more, ironing it over with the palm of her hand before repeating the process. "I don't want anybody else," She murmured, "I just want you."

Looking up at her, Michael leaned up to place a passionate kiss on her lips, one she quickly returned. Brushing her hair away from her face, he gave her a peck on the cheek before brushing his thumbs against the skin under her eyes. "You're exhausted," He murmured a matter-of-factly, his heart pulling at the fatigue that showed on her face. Rolling himself so that he laid next to her, Michael brought Diana into his side as she laid her head down against his chest.

Drawing imaginary figures with her finger, Diana uttered out a soft yawn before pressing her palm flat down, her tired eyes finding his, "You make me happy." She whispered and with that, her eyes fell closed, a deep slumber taking over her.