Patching up an injured Angel of The Lord was not on Dean's extensive list of special skills.

Driving was.

But driving when said Angel of the Lord appears in your lap while going seventy down the interstate, limp and bloody...

Well that didn't help.

It also didn't help that Sam screeched like a girl.

Dean jerked at the wheel, panic overwhelming him as he realized what was happening, adrenaline pumping his veins as he tried - and failed - to keep the car on the road.

"Cas!" Dean groaned as the car gave a violent left turn, crossing into oncoming traffic. Horns blared, tires screeched against pavement as cars swerved to avoid hitting the out of control car. Castiel lay limp on Dean as they flew off the road, swerving to avoid trees, Sam still screeching in the passenger seat.

Dean slammed his foot down on the breaks, hands clutching the wheel as he began to loose the feeling in his legs, tires slipping in the grass, metal groaning as it spun sideways, narrowly missing a tree before landing in a clearing, car giving a violent jerk as it settled.

Everything was silent as the car settled, Sam taking in deep breaths and most likely trying to a find a way to excuse his girlish freak out, but Dean wasn't paying attention to him. Panic clogging his throat, he shook his friend's shoulder, hitting at the wall that separated their bond once more as he shifted, trying to wake him.

"Cas?" he croaked.

"Castiel!"

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Hauling back an injured, limp Castiel was no easy task. Of course, he had no help from Samantha, who had finally calmed down from his melt down. The only help he got was the motel keys and Dean was determined to lock Sam out for not helping him carry the bloody angel into their room.

Cas was unconscious the whole time, head lolling back as Dean struggled to get him through the door, one arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other around his front. Dean grunted with relief as he dumped Cas onto the bed, his relief short lived as his eyes once again found the bloody stain that shone across his chest.

Dean had stripped him of his trench coat and suit jacket, hoping to find the problem. Well, he had found a problem alright. Head pounding, Dean thoughts clouded as he tried to think of what he would do in a time like this. First aid kits were always the best way to go, but there was no Heavenly first aid kits designed to treat Angel's. Or Angel doctors. How the fuck was he supposed to do anything that could help?

Fuck it, this was the best they had.

"Sam!" Dean called, hands rummaging in the cupboard as he looked for the first aid kit that should be hiding in the corner. Sam hadn't answered and Dean swallowed back a flash of frustration at his brother, his hands finally meeting their purchase.

He had struck gold.

Clutching the small first aid kit, Dean all but ran from the bathroom, finding Castiel in the same lifeless position as before.

No. No. No

Sam was clicking away at his laptop, eyes scanning the screen as his gaze flickered back and forth between the lifeless Angel and his laptop. Dean came to a stop next to Castiel on the bed, hovering over him as he looked for his injury, eyes coming to a stop at the blood stain, dry blood beginning to crust around it, turning a dark brown color. He set the first aid kit down, unsure of how to proceed before he finally began to undo the buttons numbly.

He wasn't going to loose him like this. Not at all.

He found the cause of the bond, no doubt. Breath catching in his throat, he watched as blood kept seeping from a large slash in chest. Maybe it was just the vessel. He flipped the first aid kit open, looking for anything useful in patching up a wound like that, sighing. He would have to use his own stitching kit. Yet, as he turned away, a bright white light caught his eye. Entranced he turned towards it. It was shining from Castiel's wound faintly, flickering slightly in the air around it. Dean gulped.

That was Castiel.

Dean's stomach flipped as he began to shake, mind encouraging him to reach forward, to place his hand upon the wound and fell Castiel's grace pulse under his hand. To feel Castiel pulse under his hand. To feel Castiel's life force so near his own.

He hadn't realized his hand was stretching towards it until it lay itself upon the wound, gripping his chest tightly as a bright flash filled the room, exploding the windows around them, Sam's cry of surprise muffled as everything shook around them. A curious sensation filled him, something that left him breathless and hungry for more.

Breathlessly, Dean opened his eyes warily. He hadn't known they were closed until this moment. Green eyes met drained blue ones as he stared back at a breathless Castiel.

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After the little light show Dean and Cas had put on, they were met with a wide eyed, unamused, hair singed, unamused Sammy whose bitchface radiated as much nuclear power as Castiel's explosion.

Dean hadn't much time to think of Sam and his hair troubles, spending half and hour stitching up sleepy Castiel, who now lay, neck deep in pillows and blankets, asleep. Which Dean found strange considering Angel's didn't need sleep.

That worried him. He had spent the last thirty minutes stitching him back together, trying to resist the urge to touch him again, to feel the same curious feeling he craved now. As soon as Sam realized what was going on, he turned tale and ran like the little girl he was, scooping his computer up, running a hand through his terribly singed hair, slamming the door shut behind him. Dean was sure he wouldn't back. He was also sure he had only ran because he didn't trust Dean not to cause another small nuclear explosion.

Castiel's grace was delicate and Dean couldn't help his hands from shaking as he began to carefully sew him up. It had been a success but Dean still couldn't help but frown as he watched Cas sleep, worry aching in his bones.

Castiel shouldn't be sleeping. Something wasn't right here.

Dean had been clawing at the wall that barred him from Castiel for the last ten minutes, finally giving up to check on him, coming to a stop beside his best. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, revealing the bloody gauze that was wrapped firmly around his chest, keeping his stitches in place.

Dean was aware of the vacancy in his mind. Castiel's presence had always been known in the back of his mind as soon as they had been mated. It was a soothing thing to know that he was there, always jumping in to help whenever there was danger. He was one of Dean's best friends to date, but he couldn't help the feelings that were stirring in his couldn't help but wonder why he was feeling this. True, he had always felt a sort of connected with the angel since their meeting in the barn, blue eyes bright, hair messed up and sticking up in different directions. Yet, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction and wonder as he gazed upon the Righteous man he had pieced back together from the bowels of hell.

His eyes roamed Castiel's figure once more, breath hitching as he watched him sleep. His face was relaxed somewhat, but Dean could detect a hint of pain...and sweat.

What the fuck.

Angels don't sweat.

Yet there it was, a thin sheen of sweat lay of his forehead. Raising an eyebrow, Dean placed a hand gently to Castiel's, hot, sweaty forehead. The guy was running a fever. Angel's didn't run fevers.

"Cas." Dean murmured as softly as he could, trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice. Was he falling like he had before. No. No he couldn't be. Dean began to rub his shoulder, trying his best to wake the sleeping angel.

"Cas, wake up." he said somewhat firmly, nodding in satisfaction as Castiel shifted, face pulling in discomfort. "Cas, buddy, come on." Dean sat down, prodding at his shoulder now. Castiel groaned, eyes opening slowly and he gazed back at Dean, eyes dark with sleep.

"I feel awful." he rasped, sounding as if he had spent a year in the Saudi Arabian desert.

"You don't look any better either." Dean chuckled nervously, wiping his sweaty hand on his jeans. "You're running a fever. Man, I thought that couldn't happen."

" I am weakened." Castiel said stiffly, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, eyes drooping shut once more.

"Weakened? By?" Dean prompted. He could see Castiel grit his teeth, keeping his eyes shut.

"Our bond. I've shut off our bond." was all he said.

"I know that." Irritation laced Dean's clipped tone as he pressed a hand to his forehead. "But why. Why shut me out like that." he demanded. "You could have died and I wouldn't know!" he pointed at Castiel's recently stitched chest.

"Oh you would have felt it." Castiel murmured. "Like a supernova exploding in your head." was all he said as his breathing began to settle.

"I did it...I did it because I didn't think...You shouldn't have to deal with this.." his sentences came out in weak, half mumbled. "It..Would be to much for you."

Dean watched him, the gears in his head turning. He had never realized how much Castiel may be holding back from him. How much he had kept back in case it overloaded Dean's sensitive mind.

"When you touched me, that was the part of my grace in you trying to reconnect." Castiel mumbled sleepily.

"Buddy, looks like holdin back is draining you." Dean finally said after a moment of silence. Castiel nodded. "Mates are supposed to be bound, not separated." he sounded like a small child trying to fight sleep.

"Then open it." Dean all but growled, laying a hand on his friends - mates - shoulder. Castiel shook his head, eyes scrunching up in stubborn defiance.

"No, Dean." he said firmly. He could still say it in such a way that sent chills up Dean's spine. "It's to much for you to handle." Before Castiel could finish his sentence, Dean's mouth was on his, hot and wet as he silenced the injured angel. Castiel stiffened, Dean's mouth working his over, hands greedily running down Castiel's legs making the angel shiver before relaxing, kissing him back with as much fever.

"Dean," Cas murmured against his lips. "Dean, no." he murmured once more as Dean slid in next to him, arms wrapping themselves around him. "Dean, please." his body was tensing now.

"Show me, Cas." Dean whispered, sucking his bottom lip between his own. "Show me. Show me." he chanted and a gasp elicited from Castiel as he tensed and for a split second, Dean felt as if something was tearing in the back of his mind.

Suddenly, everything was bright, soft blue light enveloped him as a steady stream of energy. He felt his breath coming in gasps, fireworks exploding behind his eyeballs. He felt Castiel's cool hands roaming him, his mouth pressing soft kisses to his neck once again. The energy soon began to make sense, branching off into different memories, feelings, thoughts and events. Things that happened thousands of years ago, memories that occurred a week ago.

Dean gasped as something hit him. Something so strong, it knocked the wind from his chest. Everything Castiel felt. His every thought, every feeling towards Dean. Dean could felt like his brain was beginning to melt, but he didn't want this to end ever. He dove into them, pulling at he bond, stroking it in a loving way as he discovered Castiel. Betrayal, disapoinment, despair, anger, love.

With a gasp, Dean pulled away, gripping the bond tightly as Castiel kept delivering kisses, soothing him as his eyes opened, greeting brighter blue eyes.

Without saying a word, Dean pulled himself weakly to Castiel, ignoring the sweat that was pouring off him in sheets as he crashed his lips to his, pouring every thought, feeling and need into the kiss.