the hunt went wrong. sam is bleeding from the gash of an angel blade against his shoulder from raphael. and cas? oh, god, castiel.

dean lunged forward to castiel, shifting him in his arms to hold him tightly, to stop the blood. oh, fuck— there’s so much blood. castiel’s wings are burned into the ground, his eyes lit up with that burning angelic white light.

“goddamnit,” dean hissed, scooping him up closer to his chest. “c’mon, damnit-!” he shouted, tugging the trenchcoat around the angel’s body.

“i think raphael stole his grace,” sam breathed, his hands gripping onto the gash.

“i know that! call bobby, sam!” dean ordered his brother, sounding much too like his father, and while sam scurried off to grab his broken cellphone to call bobby— dean held castiel closer to his body.