everyone had their vices- bobby and dean were alcoholics, and sam had restored to demon blood several times. you were no exception, expect your vice was pain. you found it cleared your mind, made all the mental anguish fade into just physical pain.

tonight wasn’t any different. the bunker was quiet, sam and dean having went to bed a few hours ago. your sleeves were rolled open and you pressed down—

“hello,” you heard the familiar flutter of wings, followed by castiel’s deep voice. “allow me.” he lifted his fingers up, preparing to heal your wounds.