Swifter Than Reason - Chapter 3b
Go to the Introduction for synopsis and warnings.
Chapter 3 (continued)
It took several more discussions, intervention via telephone from the President of the Sentinel & Guide Institute of North America, a stack of disclaimer forms (and a further hour's delay while they harvested some of Dean's skin to culture the stem cells) but they moved a newly washed and disinfected Cas into Dean's room late that evening. Almost immediately, Cas's heart rate and blood pressure climbed a little, but he remained comatose as his monitors were reconnected and his IV lines adjusted. He had a nasogastric tube taped in place over his cheek and a catheter draining the bladder, and he looked pale and gaunt and very fragile.
Dean's own heart rate rose precipitously when he saw Cas wheeled in on his bed. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed being with the guy until he appeared. When the bed was positioned three feet away from his own he felt anxious and reached out helplessly.
"Relax, Dean," said Balthazar, who had suited up so he could be in the room with them. He made the orderlies removed the bedside unit that was blocking the space and then lower the guard rail and push the two beds together. Only once he was satisfied that the beds had no space between the frames and the brakes were locked on both beds did he let them go.
"Now," he turned back to Dean, "I believe you know what to do."
"Talk to him, touch him, bring him out of the zone."
"That's right. I'm fairly confident that he'll come out of it sometime this evening, but you’re not to stay awake all night if he doesn't. If he's still catatonic tomorrow morning I'll come in early and assist you with some additional sensory stimulation before you get your new skin. Even after that you should still be able to touch him, though you'll have limited movement."
Dean nodded. That was one aspect of his treatment he wasn't looking forward to - he'd only been allowed to sit up since that morning, and tomorrow he would be back on his stomach for at least three days.
Balthazar made sure the call button was within easy reach, that there were drinks and snacks on the bedside unit, and that Dean knew what to do if he felt that Cas wasn't responding. Then he dimmed the lights and made his exit, leaving Dean alone with his sentinel.
Well.
Dean tried to make himself comfortable, taking Cas' hand and rubbing it gently.
"Hey, Cas, umm, Major Milton, it's me, Dean. Staff Sergeant Winchester. Umm, I hope you don't mind I called you Cas. I know you said it was OK in the woods, but we're not there now, we're back in civilization, so I ought to be sticking to the rules, except that back there you responded much better when I said Cas than Major Milton. So I'll call you Cas. You can always tell me to back off later, if -- when -- you wake up.
"I'm sorry you're not well. Sam and Gabe and the guy from the Institute think we may have formed a bond. I didn't realize that was possible, not when ... well, I guess you didn't either. But we went through a fairly traumatic few days together, and that makes a bond even between normals, so I guess between a guide and a sentinel it's bound to have gone a bit deeper. I didn't know I was being a guide, I didn't do it on purpose, you have to believe me."
Cas slowly turned his head very slightly towards him. Was that an flicker of movement behind the closed eyelids? It was hard to tell. He watched Cas' face carefully for a few more seconds, but there was no further movement. His eyes stayed closed and his hand was limp.
"Come on, Cas. I know you're in there. I know you're hurting and grieving and you're all shut down because you feel like you're alone. But you're not. I'm here now, and Gabe and Sam are here -- they're your family too, as well as mine. So we're kind of cousins-in-law on top of the bond thing, which is weird. And even if this doesn't work out between us, I know Sam and Gabe will look out for you. Sam's cool. I know you haven't met him yet, but trust me, he is. Gabe's kind of a dick, to be honest, but he loves Sam and Sam loves him. They're so cute together it's kind of nauseous sometimes. But they get on really well, and they make a fantastic team.
"Sam and Balthazar seem to think this might be a permanent bond. I don't know about that -- I mean, it would be pretty freakish to bond with a new guide just minutes after you lose the old one. Not that Anna was old, you know, she was pretty hot. Well, not hot in a 'I want to jump her' way, because I wouldn't, you know, even if she weren't bonded. But she was totally kick-ass hot -- she took out four guards without raising a sweat. And she recognized my lame-ass attempt to throw out a Star Wars reference. Takes a pretty cool chick to do that, you know?
"I really wish she hadn't died. I wish that bullet had got me instead, because then the two of you could have escaped and you'd be OK."
Cas moved a little. Dean wasn’t sure if it was random or in response to what he'd just said. He stroked Cas's hand anyway, and continued. "OK so maybe I don't really think that -- I mean, being alive is pretty good, when you think of the alternative, and my fingers are healing and they're putting on the new skin tomorrow so that's going to be good. I might have some scarring around the eye, but hey, I don't have to look at my own face, right? Well, except when I'm shaving, but maybe I can get an excused chit on psychological grounds. Or maybe not. They might not let me back on active duty if I'm that fucked up."
His voice dropped. "I am fucked up, you know. I haven't told them everything. I didn't even tell you everything, but you knew that. I heard you talking to that lieutenant in the APC. He only suspected I'd missed stuff out. You knew I'd missed stuff out but you still trusted me. I guess that means something, yeah? Not sure what it means, though."
He took a sip of water. It was flat and tasteless but it was water that didn't have to go through the IV line in his arm. He wondered if Cas was thirsty -- he had his own drip but his lips looked very dry. There were some sachets of lip salve on the tray that had been delivered with him, and he reached over to get one. He managed to tear it open using his teeth. It wasn't very hygienic but he still had very little use of his fingers, and he told himself that mouths weren't exactly sterile anyway. He squeezed out a little of the ointment onto Cas' lower lip and spread it over the chapped skin with the fingertips of his left hand.
"I don't think this stuff tastes too good, but it will stop your lips from drying out too much. You probably need to have your teeth cleaned too, but there's no way I can do that for you until these fingers work a bit better. But I can get you water, or if you're hungry there's some protein milkshake stuff. Probably tastes like shit but it's supposed to be good for you. If you want something different though, just let me know and I'll get Sam or Gabe to get it for you.
He wiped his finger on the sheet. When he turned back, Cas' eyes were open. They looked startlingly blue against the pallor of his skin.
"Hey, there you are. I knew you were still in there somewhere." He resumed stroking the back of Cas' hand. There wasn't much awareness in Cas' eyes but he gave a little 'mmm' sound in his throat and his head turned a little further towards Dean.
"That's it, listen to my voice, feel my touch on your skin. Are you cold? You shouldn't be, they have the temperature up pretty high because I can't really wear anything at the moment. My back's pretty raw -- they had to remove a lot of dead skin, more than just what was burnt, so that's why I'm in isolation. You probably don't remember but they had to give you some sort of all-over antiseptic wash before they let you come in here with me, and some antibiotics to clean out your gut, which sounds pretty nasty. But at least you're here with me. They've got this antibiotic goop all over my back to keep it clean overnight. It itches a bit but that's better than hurting. If it's still clean tomorrow they're going to spray it with cells -- sort of like a liquid skin graft. If it takes, it might not even leave a scar, which will be really good. Didn't want to go through life with that scar. The doc showed me a picture of it -- if I ever see that bastard Alistair again I'm going to fubar him so bad his own mother wouldn't recognize him.
"Sam and Gabe are going to come visit in the morning. They have to go back to the States soon but I'm hoping they can stay until we come out of isolation. Gabe said he was going to try and get us something to keep us occupied, like a chess set. Don't know about you, but I suck at chess. At least, I do against Sam. Never really played against anyone else. Bobby had a lot of those old board games, and we never had money to go out or rent videos so we played a lot, especially in the winter. I did pretty good at Monopoly, cause that's buy-buy-buy, but Sam always did better at Risk. He's the one who can think five moves ahead. Me, I'm just a dumb grunt, I barely see the next move."
Cas' hand tightened briefly on his. Did that mean he had understood?
"I don't think I told you about Bobby before. He was my Dad's friend, and when Dad got sick he took us in, me and Sammy. Wouldn't let me leave school, either, made me stay and graduate. He said that I'd earn more that way eventually, a lot more than I would have earned in eighteen months on minimum wage. He was right, but I hated being dependent on him. Took us a while to mend fences after I joined the army, but we're good now. He and Sammy, they're basically all the family I have. Got some cousins on my Mom's side, but they're stuck-up little pricks. I'm not surprised my Mom ditched her family for my Dad. I just wish they'd had longer together. She died when Sam was a baby and my Dad never really recovered -- he took to drinking and his liver gave out on him eventually.
"God, I didn't mean to bore you with my family history. Got so many ghosts in my life I could write a book. But tonight it's just you and me, so if there's anything you want, if there's anything you need, just tell me and I'll do my best to get it for you. If it's not here I'll buzz the nurse and see what we can do." He looked down at their intertwined hands: feeling the rightness of it; the warmth of Cas' skin against his own; the faint thrum of Cas' pulse.
"Water."
It was more of a croak than a spoken word, but Dean's head came up so fast he winced. Cas was looking at him, aware of him, and he smiled.
"Hey there. What did you say?"
"I'd like a drink of water."
"Sure thing," he said, trying to smile. "One glass of water coming right up."
He grabbed the beaker and the jug of water that had been left for them. Slipping his thumb in the handle, he tilted it and half-filled the beaker. He slid one arm behind Cas' neck and supported him while he drank. The lip balm he'd applied a few minutes before left a greasy lip print on the beaker. He let Cas take a few more sips, then released him and set the beaker down.
"Where are we?"
"The big military hospital in Germany."
"Lazarett."
"Yeah."
"How long have we been here?"
"About three days."
"I don't remember."
"No, you went into bond shock when we got back to base."
"That's weird. I remember most of the journey back -- Anna..." His voice faltered.
"Yeah, I know."
"You brought me back. I remember some of it, I think."
Dean shrugged. "I just did the sentinel first aid thing - talking, patting your cheek. Wasn't able to do much else.
"But it worked."
"Appears so."
"How are you? Is your eye all right?"
"I've been worse."
"I know, I saw you."
"The eye's OK. They took the dressing off this morning to clean the burn and I could see OK -- a bit blurred but they say that's just from the swelling. It should be back to normal in a couple of days."
"That -- that's good news. I was worried about you."
"I was worried about me, too. They have me on every antibiotic they can get. And I've had so many X-rays I think I glow in the dark."
"Your hands..." Cas reached out and touched Dean's left index finger -- one of the few that wasn't broken.
"Yeah, they're ... they're pretty useless at the moment. The doctors didn't want to operate while I was so infected so they just got splinted."
"I'm sorry, that must make it very difficult for you."
"Tell me about it. It's a major evolution just to take a piss. They offered to put the catheter back but..." He winced at the very thought.
Cas winced with him. "I don't really blame you."
"It's OK. I'm getting better. You got me out of there, now all I have to do is heal."
"I suspect that goes for both of us."
"Yeah ... about that..." He got up and started pacing around the room. It didn't take long.
"What is it?"
"Do you remember much of what I've been saying while you've been in la-la land?"
"Some."
"Well, see, here's the thing. Sam and Gabe -- you know, it turns out your cousin Gabriel is bonded to my brother Sam, crazy coincidence, huh?"
"Really? I had no idea. I knew he bonded a few years ago, but I've never met his guide."
"Yeah, I didn't even know he had a cousin in the Army. But anyway, they think that we're ... that you..."
"That I what?" Cas looked up, curiously vulnerable.
"That we bonded. On the way home. Like bond-bonded, not just soldiers-in-hell bonded. Sentinel-and-guide bonded."
"Oh." Cas was silent.
"Oh? That's all you've got to say? I tell you that we underwent some mystical life-altering transformation out there and all you can say is 'oh'?"
"It's not exactly mystical. There is some very interesting research showing --"
"I'm not talking about research, Cas! I'm talking about the fact that somehow we got bonded without either of us knowing. That you somehow transferred your bond from Anna to me within the space of a day. I'm talking about the fact that I may be tied to you for life and no one even so much as asked me if I wanted it."
He wasn't looking directly at Cas, but he caught the flash of pain on his face, and felt guilty.
"I'm sorry," he went on, his voice much quieter. "I know it's not your fault. I know I basically did this myself just by talking to you, keeping you awake, keeping you focusing on me. I just didn't realize how ... how effective it was."
"I see. I'm sorry too." Cas took a couple of slow deep breaths, then braced himself and continued, "I understand that a permanent bond is not something that can be severed without significant discomfort, but perhaps this is not yet permanent? If I can contact someone from the Institute they may be able to suggest some medication that could help tide you over until the bond disintegrates."
"What? No! You think I'll just take happy pills for a month or two while you die quietly in a corner? No fucking way."
Cas looked very confused. "Then what is your problem?"
Dean tried to run a hand through his hair and failed. Goddammit, but he hated these splints! "It's just ... when you go to a meet & greet there's an expectation that you'll meet someone compatible. You're mentally prepared. I wasn't. I was escaping from hell, basically, in a rickety jeep with a grief-crazed sentinel. Bonding was the last thing on my mind."
"If it's any consolation, it wasn't on my mind either.'
"I know," he sighed. It really wasn't Cas' fault. And honestly, what were the chances? "Have you ever heard of this happening before?"
"A second bond is unusual but it has happened before."
"So immediately, though?"
"I don't know."
Dean slumped down. "Sorry. I really didn't mean to dump all this on you the minute you woke up."
"It has obviously been preying on your mind."
"Yeah. I've been feeling really twitchy the last couple of days. Actually since we got back the base. Knowing I needed to be somewhere else and not being able to get there."
"Yes, I know that feeling. I believe the medical term is formication."
Dean stared at him. "You're shitting me."
Cas' eyes twinkled a little as he added, "No, I'm not. Formication is the sensation of ants crawling under the skin."
"It's really called that?"
"Really. Obviously, you have to be careful how you say it if you don’t wish to be misunderstood."
"Yeah," Dean gave a reluctant grin. "I can see how that might go."
They were silent for a couple of minutes, then Dean gave into the compulsion and touched Cas' hand again. Cas immediately relaxed, and Dean felt all sorts of mean for having dumped his problems on the man who had saved his life.
"It's going to take me a while to get used to this," he ventured.
"Do you think you ever will?" asked Cas, and the carefully-neutral tone made Dean's heart ache.
"Yeah, I think I will. Not much else I can do. And don't talk about breaking the bond. It's not going to happen. Just let me take some time. I'll get there eventually."
"Thank you," Cas said in a soft voice.
He made an attempt to sit up, but was too weak. Dean found the control unit and brought the head of the bed up slowly until Cas was happy with the position. They were almost eye to eye and Dean took Cas' hand again.
"How are your senses?" he asked.
Cas shook his head. "Muted, mostly. I can see and hear you, but everything's muffled."
"Probably just as well. Hospitals are no place for a sentinel."
"True."
Mindful of his duties, Dean asked, "Would you like one of the protein drinks?" When Cas made a face he added, "They're not that bad actually. You even have a choice of flavors -- chocolate, coffee, vanilla or banana."
"I'd rather just have water or juice."
"I don't have juice. I can ring and ask for some though."
"No, leave it for now. Water will do. I'm not even really thirsty."
"Well, they've been feeding you through the tube and the IV, so you shouldn't be."
"Can I get them taken out? My throat is very sore."
"Sure. I'll ring for a nurse."
Cas' grip on his hand tightened. "No, it's all right."
"What's wrong?" Dean tried not to wince at the pain, but Cas must have realized anyway because he let go. "Hey, it's OK, it was just a little tight for a second. Why don't you want me to ring for a nurse?"
Cas looked a little embarrassed. "I ... I like the fact that we're alone. I don't have to worry about anything else. If other people start coming in that I have to go back to being Major Milton and I'd prefer to stay just Cas for a little while longer."
Dean slid his splinted fingers under Cas' hand. "I get that." He did. There was a cozy quality to the room they were in, with the airlock keeping the world at bay. There was no rank in here, no official position, it was just him and Cas, like it had been in Croatoa.
Cas moved himself closer to Dean. "I'm glad they put the beds together."
"Yeah, me too."
"That night, in Croatoa, when we slept..." he paused, as if he wasn't sure exactly how to describe it.
"Yeah, I remember." Dean had been cold and in pain, and Cas had pulled Dean half over himself so that his back wasn't taking any weight and they could keep each other warm. "It felt so comfortable."
"I was sure I wasn't going to sleep at all, I thought you'd be fidgeting and that would keep me awake."
"Nah, I was out like a light."
"So was I."
"You think that's a good omen for the future?"
"I think it could be."
Dean leaned back against the pillows and he and Cas stared at each other until they fell asleep, still holding hands.
~~~~~
Dean wasn't surprised to find that there was a queue of people wanting to see them the next morning. After Dr Banks had pronounced Dean's skin ready for the stem cell application, they endured a tough half-hour with Dr Langhorn who seemed determined to claim Cas' recovery as a product of his own treatment rather than acknowledging Dean's contribution. Once Cas had confidently claimed Dean as his guide, however, Dr Langhorn had no option but to yield ground to Balthazar.
Balthazar looked genuinely pleased to see that Cas was awake and in full possession of his faculties ... and also that Dean hadn't made a break for freedom overnight. He promised to get the preliminary paperwork completed before the end of the day, on the understanding that they would not achieve full partnership status until they could be tested at the Institute.
"I'll liaise with both your unit commanders to ensure that you can be assigned to the Institute during your convalescent leave. There will be some details to sort out, of course, and it may take some time before you are both back on active duty, but that's actually a benefit."
"I guess so," Dean acknowledged, although the prospect of at least three months out of action wasn't pleasant.
"It will be fine," said Cas, reassuringly. "The more we practice working as a team before we need to do so in the field, the safer we'll both be. And I will make very sure that you don't start physical training too soon. I don't want you to risk further injury."
"Huh. Just wait 'til you see what I'm like when I haven't run for a week or two."
Cas smiled. "Bad-tempered?"
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"I think I'll cope."
Balthazar left to make some phone calls, and they managed a half-hour of rest before the burns registrar came in with the stem cell gun. First Dean's back was thoroughly cleaned again to remove all dead cells and exudate, then the raw skin (including the donor site from the night before) was sprayed with the stem cell suspension. After that a special dressing was applied to protect the new cells while they attached to the raw surface and multiplied. Then the process was repeated with his left temple.
Cas watched it all with intent concentration, giving Dean a running commentary.
"It's looking a lot healthier than it did in Croatoa," he commented.
"After the amount of antibiotics they've pumped into me it damn well should," replied Dean. "Not to mention the number of times they've scrubbed it."
Finally it was done, with Dean being advised to stay on his front for the next couple of hours to let everything settle. After that he could sit or stand, but was told not to lie on his back for two days.
He grimaced at that, but made no argument. He wanted to heal as quickly as he could and he definitely wanted that scar to be gone, so he was going to adhere to the doctor's instructions as closely as possible.
Then Cas was freed of his catheter (the nasogastric tube having been removed before breakfast) and they settled down to the most exciting pastime on offer: Scrabble. To his own surprise, Dean won the first two games -- more on strategy than on vocabulary, admittedly, but he still won, and was not gracious in victory, either. Luckily for him, Castiel was the forgiving sort.
~~~~
The mood in the room plummeted after lunch when Cas received a phone call from mortuary services. They required advice on what to do with Anna's body, which had been had been transferred to Landstuhl on the same plane as them and had been resting in the morgue since then, awaiting further instructions.
Cas appeared to be quite upset and Dean reached over to touch his arm. He got a watery smile but no explanation until the call was over and Cas had replaced the phone in its cradle.
"What's up?" he asked.
"My sister's body. They want to know what to do."
"Oh. Didn't she leave any instructions?"
"She did, but apparently they want confirmation from next of kin before carrying them out."
"I guess that's reasonable."
"I suppose so."
"So what did she want?"
"Cremation and scattering of ashes."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, not that. That's fine, it’s the same as I've chosen myself." He sighed, and turned Dean's hand in his own. "The problem is..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dean. I can't explain it to you at the moment. I have to talk to Gabriel."
"OK then," Dean replied, trying not to feel annoyed at being excluded. It was obviously a family thing, and Dean knew only too well how complex and dangerous family issues could be, and how difficult it was to try and explain them to an outsider -- and being Castiel's guide didn't automatically mean that he was entitled to know everything about him and his family. He squeezed Cas' hand as best he could and said, "How about we try another game of Scrabble?"
Unfortunately, the teasingly competitive mood from earlier had disappeared, and it was with some relief that they saw Sam and Gabe entering a while later. Sam, at least, was genuinely pleased for them both; Gabe greeted Cas fondly but his eyes darkened a little whenever he looked at Dean. Well, Dean could hardly blame him for that.
With a brief apologetic glance at Dean, Cas turned on the small portable radio that Sam had brought in the day before and took Gabe to the far corner of the room, where they conversed for several minutes in whispers so quiet that only sentinels had a hope of understanding.
Dean tried to concentrate on Sam, he really did, but he was unable to stop himself glancing over at Cas several times. Finally Sam gave an exasperated sigh and shifted his own position so that Dean had to turn his back on Cas and Gabe in order to see Sam.
"Sammy..."
"Let them talk in peace, Dean. It's obviously private."
"Yeah, I know -- family stuff. Something to do with Anna, anyway."
"Ah."
There was a tone in Sam's voice that got Dean's attention. "You know about this?"
"I know a little, just from something Gabe told me years ago about his own family."
"Well, go on, spill."
Sam shook his head. "It's not my place, and anyway, I could be wrong." He shrugged. "If Cas wants you to know, he'll tell you. If he doesn't want you to know then you should respect his privacy."
"Sammy..."
"No. Come on, talk about something else. I take it the grafting went OK this morning?"
With a sigh, Dean focused on Sam. "Yeah. Took longer to prepare it than it did to spray it. I'm sleeping on my front again for two nights, though, that's not going to be fun."
"Two nights' poor sleep is a pretty low price to pay for a graft that's not going to leave any scars."
"Yeah, I know, I know. I'm just grousing for the sake of it." He gave Sam a self-deprecating smile.
"So do you need any supplies brought in?"
"Yeah, actually -- I need something to do. All the hospital would bring in was one lousy game of Scrabble. The radio's great, but it's background. I need something to concentrate on."
"Books? There should be an English-language bookshop somewhere."
"Yes, books would be fine. Or a game or something."
"I'll see what I can find."
"Great."
Luckily for his peace of mind, Cas and Gabe finished their conversation a couple of minutes later. Cas turned off the radio and Gabe beckoned Sam to come with him.
"We'll be back later," he said, reassuringly. "I just have to get something for Cas."
"Yeah, Sam has to get something for me too," Dean acknowledged.
It was quiet after their visitors had left. Cas got back onto his bed and reached across to rub Dean's forearm. "Sorry," he said, with an apologetic smile.
"It's OK," Dean responded automatically even though his inner child was screaming, Tell me! Tell me! "Family stuff's always awkward to try and explain to outsiders."
~~~~~
Sam and Gabe returned over three hours later, laden with parcels. Sam handed Dean a stack of novels, a set of playing cards and a travel game pack comprising chess, checkers and backgammon. "Sorry, Dean that's the best I could find."
"Hey, it's great, Sam. More than enough to keep us occupied."
Gabe handed Cas a similar stack of novels (more serious-looking than the ones Sam had chosen for Dean, he noted), plus a small pad of paper and a packet of envelopes.
"Thank you," said Castiel, gravely, reaching for a pen on the bedside unit.
"No problem, cuz. I still think you shouldn't bother."
"No, I must do this."
Gabriel sighed. "OK, but don't blame me when it comes right back at you."
"I won't."
While the other three conversed, Cas wrote for perhaps ten minutes, filling two sides of a sheet. With a sigh, he sealed the letter in its envelope and handed it to Gabriel, who held it in such a way that Dean couldn't read the address.
"I'll get it posted tonight," confirmed Gabe.
"Promise?"
Gabe nodded, though his expression showed that he really didn't agree with Cas' actions. "I promise. Cross my heart and everything."
"Thanks."
Dean waited until Sam and Gabriel had left before saying, "Important letter?"
"Yes. I had to write to my parents to inform them of Anna's death."
"Couldn't you phone or send them an email?"
"No, writing is the proper medium for this message."
"So," Dean gave him a smile, "when do I get to meet them?"
Cas closed down immediately. "I'm afraid that will not be possible," he said, his tone cold and forbidding.
"Why not?" He knew he was pushing it, and Sam would be glaring at him if he were still there, but he wasn't, and Dean really wanted to know what the big deal was.
Cas hesitated, then he shrugged and said, slowly, "This will be the first communication with my family for almost nineteen years."
Dean was appalled. Nineteen years? If Cas was thirty-six now, that would mean ... that would mean he had been estranged from his family from the year he turned eighteen.
"What happened?"
"I expressed my desire to join up and serve my country in a way that was commensurate with a sentinel's talents. My parents disapproved. They belong to a small but very strict sect and had never really adjusted to my enhanced senses anyway. Wanting to join the Army was the last straw for them. I think they might have accepted service as a firefighter or emergency medical responder, but police and armed forces are anathema to them."
Dean leaned over and enveloped him in a hug. "That sucks man. I'm sorry."
"It's old history now."
"So, you joined up on your birthday?"
"A few months later, but essentially yes. While I was a minor I was unable to go against their wishes, so I had to delay my application until I had reached the legal age of majority. When Anna and I told them that we had applied and been accepted, they disowned us. Luckily we were able to stay with some friends and then at the Institute until our joining date. Gabriel's family was also supportive -- his mother had left the sect some years before us."
Dean thought about how two kids from such a sheltered background could have coped with being thrown out of the family home. It made his own misfortunes seem small in comparison -- sure, his father had died, but Bobby had stepped in to look after them, and he and Sam had never been homeless. Even when he left to join the army he had always had a place to come home to, family to phone, emails and photos to download and carry with him. He had been very lucky.
He tightened his arms around Cas and nuzzled his hair. He'd have to take Cas home with him for Thanksgiving or Christmas. He wasn't sure if Sam and Gabe would be able to get leave, but Bobby and Jodi and all the gang in Sioux Falls would love to meet his new partner. He'd give Cas a new family; a better family.
"This skin graft of yours is most inconvenient. I want to hug you back but I can't touch your skin."
"Yeah, it sucks. But it's a whole lot better than the old-style grafts."
"True." Cas ran his hands over Dean's arms, and gave him a wistful smile. "I think I shall develop an intimate acquaintance with your forearms over the next couple of weeks."
"I think I'd like that."
~~~~~
The following morning brought the news that two officers would be flying in to debrief them about the mission in Croatoa.
Dean immediately felt nauseated and started to hyperventilate. He had been doing his best to suppress all memory of those nightmare days and felt he had largely succeeded. He had no desire to go through everything again, especially when he knew that he wouldn't come out of it well. He'd failed, badly, and there was no amount of fast-talk that could disguise it, and he really, really, didn't want to think about Jackson and Ponzi and Colonel Alistair.
"Dean. Dean." Cas was holding him, murmuring his name, running hands up and down his arms.
Dean opened his eyes -- when had he closed them? -- and realized that they were alone. That was good. He hadn't embarrassed himself and Cas by breaking down in front of the medical staff.
"Sorry," he whispered, letting his head fall forward onto Cas' shoulder.
"It's all right. You're here, you're safe."
"I know. I know that."
"Knowing it isn't the same as feeling it."
"I just have to get a grip on things."
"You will."
Dean forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly, and that, combined with Cas' continued rubbing of his arm, enabled him to emerge slowly from the cloud of panic that had surrounded him.
He straightened up and gave Cas a bleak nod. "I'm OK now."
"Good." Cas straightened up too, and let go of him with a reassuring final pat on the arm.
Dean felt a paradoxical urge to pull him close again, but resisted. Guide or no guide, that didn't mean that he was attached to his sentinel at the hip, and he had no intention of turning into another Sam.
On the other hand ... he could do with a friendly face around when he was being questioned.
"Do sentinels and guides get to do joint debriefs?" he asked.
"Usually, yes. Why?"
"I really don't like the idea of being questioned on my own. It's stupid, I know it's not a trial or anything, they just want to get at the facts, but..."
"You feel that it might all get twisted around and you want someone who can support your account if necessary."
"Yeah. It's not like our accounts are going to be contaminated because everything they'll want to know happened before the team rescued me."
"Likewise, any information they want from me is likely to be from the period immediately preceding the extraction. The only part they may have an issue with is the time between leaving the camp and the destruction of the helicopter."
"Well there isn't much I can say for that part, anyway, I was face down in the helo for most of it."
"In which case they'll probably agree. And there is no point excluding me from your part of the debrief, since I can listen in from anywhere in the hospital."
"You can?"
"Yes. Now I know your heartbeat and your scent I could follow you anywhere."
"Wow." And that was either the most endearing or the most stalkery thing Dean had ever heard. He didn't doubt it, though -- sentinels had been known to track their guides over impossible distances. Hell, back when Sam had been kidnapped Gabe had found him four days later and fifty kilometers away when there was no scent trail at all ... and Dean still thought there was something hinky about that, but neither Sam nor Gabe had ever explained it, except to say it was a sentinel thing.
"So we'll go through the debriefing together."
"Thanks," Dean said, and he honestly meant it. He knew he'd have to talk about his ordeal in Croatoa -- which was going to be nearly as bad as going through it the first time -- and while one part of him was terrified that Cas would think him a coward, another part was rationally reminding him that Cas had already got the condensed version when they were picked up. He already knew the worst and still wanted Dean for his guide ... or at least, he hadn't refused him, which was the next best thing.
Cas smiled at him, and he felt a little better.
"Dean, is there anything you wish me to know before the debriefing?"
Or maybe not.
Cas frowned. "Your expression and the change in your heart rate indicate that my question disturbed you."
Oh, great. How could he forget that he was now bonded to a human lie detector? Cas did have a point, though. He was going to be going through some fairly disturbing stuff during the session, and he wasn't really sure he was going to hold it together.
"You know what I told you and the captain when we got picked up. They'll want more details. They'll want to know exactly what he did, exactly what I said."
Cas touched his arm again. "I already know that you were tortured and raped. I already know that you broke down and gave him information. That doesn't make you a bad person. It doesn't make you weak."
Dean threw him a glance but there was nothing in his tone to indicate how disgusted he might feel. It didn't matter, anyway. Dean had more than enough disgust for himself. "I'm a soldier. I've done the training. I should have been stronger."
"It doesn't matter how strong you are or how much training you've had. Everyone breaks. I'd say your breaking point was ... appropriate."
"Appropriate?"
"Yes."
"How the fuck do you work that out?"
Cas shrugged. "You're alive and not permanently damaged."
"But --"
"What information did you give up?"
Dean forced himself to say the words. "Everything. Prisoner locations, call-signs, frequencies, patrol schedules, access codes ... anything they asked for."
Cas was silent for a minute, and Dean slowly folded in on himself. He'd given Colonel Alistair everything. He was a traitor to his unit, to his fellow-soldiers. He'd betrayed everyone. He should have died rather than given up.
Cas considered the information gravely, and said, "That doesn't sound too bad to me."
"What?"
"Everything you gave up was small-scale and time-limited. Inconsequential. Unimportant in the long run. If they haven't already used it, they won't get the chance."
"But ... So what would you call important?"
"Things that can't be changed quickly. Strategic plans, undercover agent identities, advanced R&D, materiel acquisitions, that sort of thing."
"I don't know any of that."
"I know. So you never had anything that was worth losing a body part for."
"But--"
"No buts. Torture isn't a contest. I mean it -- you don't get any prizes for holding out. The only goal is survival, and sometimes that is best achieved by giving in. In my opinion you made the right call at the right time."
The words were meant to be a comfort to him, he knew, but somehow he just couldn't believe it. He'd fucked up and he'd failed badly. That was never going to go away.
"Whatever you say, sir."
Cas cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "I'm not telling you this as an officer. I'm not even telling you as a sentinel. I'm just speaking as one soldier to another. You survived and you escaped. That means you won. And because you escaped, we now have important information about the Croatoans we didn't have before."
"Like what?"
"Firstly, they had a spy in the camp. Secondly, they were so keen to get those prisoners back they risked unmasking their spy and taking out a convoy from within our front lines to get information. And thirdly, they have a rogue interrogator who may well prove to be a weak spot."
"How the hell to do work all that out?"
Cas shrugged. "It’s just logical extrapolation."
Dean just stared at him. When he actually thought about it, he could see how Cas had come to his conclusions, but he would never have bothered to start the process in the first place. Well, that was why Cas was an officer and he was just a soldier.
~~~~~
The debriefing the following day was just as harrowing as Dean had expected. The two officers were determinedly neutral in their attitude and Dean was worried that he was going to get reprimanded for what he'd done. Not even the presence of Cas could stop him hyperventilating a couple of times as he described what Colonel Alistair had done to him and Jackson and Ponzi. For some reason it was still Ponzi -- Ponzi's ruined face and helpless whimpers -- that affected him the most. He was grateful for Cas beside him, holding onto his arm and forcing the debriefing team to give him a break.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to Cas as he struggled with a beaker of juice.
"Don't be. You're doing very well."
"It gets so difficult to breathe when I think about it."
"I know. Only a few more minutes and then it will be my turn. You can hold on for a few more minutes, can't you?"
Dean nodded. He could do this. He could do it for Cas. He could do it for his team; for the ones who'd died.
He made it through to the end, though it took an immense effort not to break down again, even with Castiel's calm presence beside him. He finished his description of that last session with the colonel, the return to his cell for night and the morning routine, before relating how Anna entered his cell and helped him to escape.
He was grateful for the additional break for refreshments they took before starting Castiel's debrief, though the two biscuits and lukewarm coffee weren't nearly enough to settle him. Cas made him take one of the protein drinks as well -- he made a face, but he had to admit that it helped.
Castiel's portion of the debrief was much more straightforward. He laid out the mission briefing before they left, the scouting expedition, the decision to enter in daylight as soon as he had made an aural survey of the camp rather than waiting for the early hours of the morning (which Dean was profoundly grateful for, as he would have been considerably worse off after another session with Colonel Alistair) and the mad dash to the helicopter. He had a little difficulty maintaining his composure when he described Anna getting shot, and Dean took the opportunity to give him a consoling one-armed hug when they took a short break. After that, though, he managed to provide a concise and accurate account of the firefight and the way the helicopter had been disabled.
Then it was Dean's turn again, relating their subsequent journey through southern Croatoa, the death of Anna, and his attempts to keep Cas aware and focused on the mission. He had to confess that his memory of the last twelve hours or so was fuzzy but that didn't seem to worry the two officers.
Castiel followed with his own version of their journey. Dean wasn't surprised to find that Cas had noted many more patrols than he'd let on, but he was a little disconcerted when Cas described just how sick Dean had been. From the way Cas put it, he'd been lucky he was still standing and able to talk by the time they were picked up. Cas also gave a quick summary of his initial treatment at the hospital, before they'd been separated. Although he was careful not to criticize the medical staff, it was clear that he had tried to remain with Dean and been forcibly removed.
Finally they were done, and the two officers packed up their recording equipment and left Dean and Cas to recover in peace.
Dean found that he was almost shaking, and Cas wasn't much better. They ate their lunch in silence and stayed as close to each other as possible.
"I think they're going to force me into seeing a psych," Dean muttered as he pushed his tray away.
Cas nodded. "It's standard practice after something like that. And honestly, Dean, it will probably help."
"Maybe, but I don't feel comfortable opening up to a stranger."
"You just debriefed to two people you'd never seen before."
"That's different -- I was just telling them what happened. I didn't have to tell them how I feel about it. I didn't have to go into any details about my shitty childhood or my dreams or anything."
"Well you may not have to with the psych either. It depends on what comes up in the screening."
"I guess." He knew he didn't sound convinced.
He was dreading it, in fact. He'd been through the psychological screening process before, when he'd returned from deployment, and he'd just laughed it off. He had a feeling he wouldn't be able to do that this time, even without Cas alongside to as his own personal lie detector. After what he'd been through there was no way that the psychs would clear him back to combat status until he'd been turned inside out.
Cas rubbed his arm gently, and Dean managed to come up with a smile. He'd deal with the psych as and when it was necessary. Until then all he had to do was heal and get to know his new partner.
~~~~~
Late that afternoon Sam and Gabe came in to say goodbye. Gabe was carrying a bakery carton and the smell of cooked apples caught Dean's attention immediately.
"Is that for me?" he asked.
"No it's for the cleaning staff," replied Gabriel immediately. "Oh, by the way, good evening, Gabe, it's nice to see you, Gabe, thank you for visiting."
"Word to the wise, Gabe," said Sam, taking the carton from him and putting it on Dean's tray table. "Never get between Dean and pie."
"Damn right," said Dean with a grin. He opened the carton and eagerly lifted out the contents, taking a deep, appreciative sniff. "Well it certainly smells like pie even if it doesn't look quite the same."
"It's apfeltasche," Sam said. "It translates to apple pocket. But it tastes the same, I can assure you."
"Excellent." He smiled happily at Gabe and said, "Thank you for the pie."
"You're welcome ... more or less. And it's for Cas too."
"Of course." He smiled across at Cas, then looked up at Sam. "I don't suppose you managed any cream or ice cream?"
Sam rolled his eyes and reached into his bag and pulled out a small tub of cream. "They don't have cream in a can here, but that's the finest clotted cream I could find. Guaranteed to annihilate the arteries if you take more than a teaspoonful."
"You're a god, Sammy. I know how it must have hurt to have to pay for that."
"Yeah, well, it's our last visit so I figured I could deal with the pain."
"Now all we need is a couple of bowls and spoons and we're set." He gave Sam his best puppy eyes and waited.
Sam heaved a sigh of capitulation and went to get something they could use to eat the apfeltasche.
Gabe turned to Cas. "How did the interrogation go?"
"It was a debriefing. And it went well," Cas responded.
Dean snorted. Yeah, right.
"It did," Cas repeated, giving him a stern look.
"I needed two time-outs."
"I needed one, also."
Dean rolled his eyes. He suspected Cas had only insisted on a short break because he felt it would make Dean feel better about his own almost-meltdown. Still, it was all over now, unless they decided to have an inquest, in which case he'd have to go over the same ground over again. He hoped that Cas was right and that it would get easier with practice.
"But they were OK with it?" Gabe asked.
"Yes, they reviewed the tapes over lunch and came back with some additional questions, but as far as we know, it's all done now."
"Good. So all you have to do is get better and go back home."
"Eventually, yes. We'll have to wait until Dean is fit to travel, but that shouldn't be more than a fortnight. Balthazar is trying to get us a temporary attachment to the Institute while we're on convalescent leave."
"That will be good. I've only visited briefly, but it's a beautiful site."
"It is." Cas didn't say any more and looked as if the memory had upset him. Dean reached out with his bandaged hand and stroked his shoulder, receiving a grateful smile in return.
Sam returned with two bowls and two spoons, and soon Dean and Cas were tucking into their apple pastry (once Sam had chopped the pastry into spoon-sized pieces, since Dean still had problems trying to put any pressure through his broken hands). Even Cas had had to admit that the hospital food was unappetizing, and the pie was a welcome change.
Dean watched Cas eating, and felt content. Sure, he'd had a bad couple of weeks, but his injuries were healing, he had a kick-ass sentinel partner and he was getting on better with his brother's partner than he had in years. Add pie to that, and he had to say that life was pretty damned good at the moment.
Whatever came up in the next few months ... well, he'd deal. He always did.
The End (for now)
Chapter 3 (continued)
It took several more discussions, intervention via telephone from the President of the Sentinel & Guide Institute of North America, a stack of disclaimer forms (and a further hour's delay while they harvested some of Dean's skin to culture the stem cells) but they moved a newly washed and disinfected Cas into Dean's room late that evening. Almost immediately, Cas's heart rate and blood pressure climbed a little, but he remained comatose as his monitors were reconnected and his IV lines adjusted. He had a nasogastric tube taped in place over his cheek and a catheter draining the bladder, and he looked pale and gaunt and very fragile.
Dean's own heart rate rose precipitously when he saw Cas wheeled in on his bed. He hadn't realized just how much he had missed being with the guy until he appeared. When the bed was positioned three feet away from his own he felt anxious and reached out helplessly.
"Relax, Dean," said Balthazar, who had suited up so he could be in the room with them. He made the orderlies removed the bedside unit that was blocking the space and then lower the guard rail and push the two beds together. Only once he was satisfied that the beds had no space between the frames and the brakes were locked on both beds did he let them go.
"Now," he turned back to Dean, "I believe you know what to do."
"Talk to him, touch him, bring him out of the zone."
"That's right. I'm fairly confident that he'll come out of it sometime this evening, but you’re not to stay awake all night if he doesn't. If he's still catatonic tomorrow morning I'll come in early and assist you with some additional sensory stimulation before you get your new skin. Even after that you should still be able to touch him, though you'll have limited movement."
Dean nodded. That was one aspect of his treatment he wasn't looking forward to - he'd only been allowed to sit up since that morning, and tomorrow he would be back on his stomach for at least three days.
Balthazar made sure the call button was within easy reach, that there were drinks and snacks on the bedside unit, and that Dean knew what to do if he felt that Cas wasn't responding. Then he dimmed the lights and made his exit, leaving Dean alone with his sentinel.
Well.
Dean tried to make himself comfortable, taking Cas' hand and rubbing it gently.
"Hey, Cas, umm, Major Milton, it's me, Dean. Staff Sergeant Winchester. Umm, I hope you don't mind I called you Cas. I know you said it was OK in the woods, but we're not there now, we're back in civilization, so I ought to be sticking to the rules, except that back there you responded much better when I said Cas than Major Milton. So I'll call you Cas. You can always tell me to back off later, if -- when -- you wake up.
"I'm sorry you're not well. Sam and Gabe and the guy from the Institute think we may have formed a bond. I didn't realize that was possible, not when ... well, I guess you didn't either. But we went through a fairly traumatic few days together, and that makes a bond even between normals, so I guess between a guide and a sentinel it's bound to have gone a bit deeper. I didn't know I was being a guide, I didn't do it on purpose, you have to believe me."
Cas slowly turned his head very slightly towards him. Was that an flicker of movement behind the closed eyelids? It was hard to tell. He watched Cas' face carefully for a few more seconds, but there was no further movement. His eyes stayed closed and his hand was limp.
"Come on, Cas. I know you're in there. I know you're hurting and grieving and you're all shut down because you feel like you're alone. But you're not. I'm here now, and Gabe and Sam are here -- they're your family too, as well as mine. So we're kind of cousins-in-law on top of the bond thing, which is weird. And even if this doesn't work out between us, I know Sam and Gabe will look out for you. Sam's cool. I know you haven't met him yet, but trust me, he is. Gabe's kind of a dick, to be honest, but he loves Sam and Sam loves him. They're so cute together it's kind of nauseous sometimes. But they get on really well, and they make a fantastic team.
"Sam and Balthazar seem to think this might be a permanent bond. I don't know about that -- I mean, it would be pretty freakish to bond with a new guide just minutes after you lose the old one. Not that Anna was old, you know, she was pretty hot. Well, not hot in a 'I want to jump her' way, because I wouldn't, you know, even if she weren't bonded. But she was totally kick-ass hot -- she took out four guards without raising a sweat. And she recognized my lame-ass attempt to throw out a Star Wars reference. Takes a pretty cool chick to do that, you know?
"I really wish she hadn't died. I wish that bullet had got me instead, because then the two of you could have escaped and you'd be OK."
Cas moved a little. Dean wasn’t sure if it was random or in response to what he'd just said. He stroked Cas's hand anyway, and continued. "OK so maybe I don't really think that -- I mean, being alive is pretty good, when you think of the alternative, and my fingers are healing and they're putting on the new skin tomorrow so that's going to be good. I might have some scarring around the eye, but hey, I don't have to look at my own face, right? Well, except when I'm shaving, but maybe I can get an excused chit on psychological grounds. Or maybe not. They might not let me back on active duty if I'm that fucked up."
His voice dropped. "I am fucked up, you know. I haven't told them everything. I didn't even tell you everything, but you knew that. I heard you talking to that lieutenant in the APC. He only suspected I'd missed stuff out. You knew I'd missed stuff out but you still trusted me. I guess that means something, yeah? Not sure what it means, though."
He took a sip of water. It was flat and tasteless but it was water that didn't have to go through the IV line in his arm. He wondered if Cas was thirsty -- he had his own drip but his lips looked very dry. There were some sachets of lip salve on the tray that had been delivered with him, and he reached over to get one. He managed to tear it open using his teeth. It wasn't very hygienic but he still had very little use of his fingers, and he told himself that mouths weren't exactly sterile anyway. He squeezed out a little of the ointment onto Cas' lower lip and spread it over the chapped skin with the fingertips of his left hand.
"I don't think this stuff tastes too good, but it will stop your lips from drying out too much. You probably need to have your teeth cleaned too, but there's no way I can do that for you until these fingers work a bit better. But I can get you water, or if you're hungry there's some protein milkshake stuff. Probably tastes like shit but it's supposed to be good for you. If you want something different though, just let me know and I'll get Sam or Gabe to get it for you.
He wiped his finger on the sheet. When he turned back, Cas' eyes were open. They looked startlingly blue against the pallor of his skin.
"Hey, there you are. I knew you were still in there somewhere." He resumed stroking the back of Cas' hand. There wasn't much awareness in Cas' eyes but he gave a little 'mmm' sound in his throat and his head turned a little further towards Dean.
"That's it, listen to my voice, feel my touch on your skin. Are you cold? You shouldn't be, they have the temperature up pretty high because I can't really wear anything at the moment. My back's pretty raw -- they had to remove a lot of dead skin, more than just what was burnt, so that's why I'm in isolation. You probably don't remember but they had to give you some sort of all-over antiseptic wash before they let you come in here with me, and some antibiotics to clean out your gut, which sounds pretty nasty. But at least you're here with me. They've got this antibiotic goop all over my back to keep it clean overnight. It itches a bit but that's better than hurting. If it's still clean tomorrow they're going to spray it with cells -- sort of like a liquid skin graft. If it takes, it might not even leave a scar, which will be really good. Didn't want to go through life with that scar. The doc showed me a picture of it -- if I ever see that bastard Alistair again I'm going to fubar him so bad his own mother wouldn't recognize him.
"Sam and Gabe are going to come visit in the morning. They have to go back to the States soon but I'm hoping they can stay until we come out of isolation. Gabe said he was going to try and get us something to keep us occupied, like a chess set. Don't know about you, but I suck at chess. At least, I do against Sam. Never really played against anyone else. Bobby had a lot of those old board games, and we never had money to go out or rent videos so we played a lot, especially in the winter. I did pretty good at Monopoly, cause that's buy-buy-buy, but Sam always did better at Risk. He's the one who can think five moves ahead. Me, I'm just a dumb grunt, I barely see the next move."
Cas' hand tightened briefly on his. Did that mean he had understood?
"I don't think I told you about Bobby before. He was my Dad's friend, and when Dad got sick he took us in, me and Sammy. Wouldn't let me leave school, either, made me stay and graduate. He said that I'd earn more that way eventually, a lot more than I would have earned in eighteen months on minimum wage. He was right, but I hated being dependent on him. Took us a while to mend fences after I joined the army, but we're good now. He and Sammy, they're basically all the family I have. Got some cousins on my Mom's side, but they're stuck-up little pricks. I'm not surprised my Mom ditched her family for my Dad. I just wish they'd had longer together. She died when Sam was a baby and my Dad never really recovered -- he took to drinking and his liver gave out on him eventually.
"God, I didn't mean to bore you with my family history. Got so many ghosts in my life I could write a book. But tonight it's just you and me, so if there's anything you want, if there's anything you need, just tell me and I'll do my best to get it for you. If it's not here I'll buzz the nurse and see what we can do." He looked down at their intertwined hands: feeling the rightness of it; the warmth of Cas' skin against his own; the faint thrum of Cas' pulse.
"Water."
It was more of a croak than a spoken word, but Dean's head came up so fast he winced. Cas was looking at him, aware of him, and he smiled.
"Hey there. What did you say?"
"I'd like a drink of water."
"Sure thing," he said, trying to smile. "One glass of water coming right up."
He grabbed the beaker and the jug of water that had been left for them. Slipping his thumb in the handle, he tilted it and half-filled the beaker. He slid one arm behind Cas' neck and supported him while he drank. The lip balm he'd applied a few minutes before left a greasy lip print on the beaker. He let Cas take a few more sips, then released him and set the beaker down.
"Where are we?"
"The big military hospital in Germany."
"Lazarett."
"Yeah."
"How long have we been here?"
"About three days."
"I don't remember."
"No, you went into bond shock when we got back to base."
"That's weird. I remember most of the journey back -- Anna..." His voice faltered.
"Yeah, I know."
"You brought me back. I remember some of it, I think."
Dean shrugged. "I just did the sentinel first aid thing - talking, patting your cheek. Wasn't able to do much else.
"But it worked."
"Appears so."
"How are you? Is your eye all right?"
"I've been worse."
"I know, I saw you."
"The eye's OK. They took the dressing off this morning to clean the burn and I could see OK -- a bit blurred but they say that's just from the swelling. It should be back to normal in a couple of days."
"That -- that's good news. I was worried about you."
"I was worried about me, too. They have me on every antibiotic they can get. And I've had so many X-rays I think I glow in the dark."
"Your hands..." Cas reached out and touched Dean's left index finger -- one of the few that wasn't broken.
"Yeah, they're ... they're pretty useless at the moment. The doctors didn't want to operate while I was so infected so they just got splinted."
"I'm sorry, that must make it very difficult for you."
"Tell me about it. It's a major evolution just to take a piss. They offered to put the catheter back but..." He winced at the very thought.
Cas winced with him. "I don't really blame you."
"It's OK. I'm getting better. You got me out of there, now all I have to do is heal."
"I suspect that goes for both of us."
"Yeah ... about that..." He got up and started pacing around the room. It didn't take long.
"What is it?"
"Do you remember much of what I've been saying while you've been in la-la land?"
"Some."
"Well, see, here's the thing. Sam and Gabe -- you know, it turns out your cousin Gabriel is bonded to my brother Sam, crazy coincidence, huh?"
"Really? I had no idea. I knew he bonded a few years ago, but I've never met his guide."
"Yeah, I didn't even know he had a cousin in the Army. But anyway, they think that we're ... that you..."
"That I what?" Cas looked up, curiously vulnerable.
"That we bonded. On the way home. Like bond-bonded, not just soldiers-in-hell bonded. Sentinel-and-guide bonded."
"Oh." Cas was silent.
"Oh? That's all you've got to say? I tell you that we underwent some mystical life-altering transformation out there and all you can say is 'oh'?"
"It's not exactly mystical. There is some very interesting research showing --"
"I'm not talking about research, Cas! I'm talking about the fact that somehow we got bonded without either of us knowing. That you somehow transferred your bond from Anna to me within the space of a day. I'm talking about the fact that I may be tied to you for life and no one even so much as asked me if I wanted it."
He wasn't looking directly at Cas, but he caught the flash of pain on his face, and felt guilty.
"I'm sorry," he went on, his voice much quieter. "I know it's not your fault. I know I basically did this myself just by talking to you, keeping you awake, keeping you focusing on me. I just didn't realize how ... how effective it was."
"I see. I'm sorry too." Cas took a couple of slow deep breaths, then braced himself and continued, "I understand that a permanent bond is not something that can be severed without significant discomfort, but perhaps this is not yet permanent? If I can contact someone from the Institute they may be able to suggest some medication that could help tide you over until the bond disintegrates."
"What? No! You think I'll just take happy pills for a month or two while you die quietly in a corner? No fucking way."
Cas looked very confused. "Then what is your problem?"
Dean tried to run a hand through his hair and failed. Goddammit, but he hated these splints! "It's just ... when you go to a meet & greet there's an expectation that you'll meet someone compatible. You're mentally prepared. I wasn't. I was escaping from hell, basically, in a rickety jeep with a grief-crazed sentinel. Bonding was the last thing on my mind."
"If it's any consolation, it wasn't on my mind either.'
"I know," he sighed. It really wasn't Cas' fault. And honestly, what were the chances? "Have you ever heard of this happening before?"
"A second bond is unusual but it has happened before."
"So immediately, though?"
"I don't know."
Dean slumped down. "Sorry. I really didn't mean to dump all this on you the minute you woke up."
"It has obviously been preying on your mind."
"Yeah. I've been feeling really twitchy the last couple of days. Actually since we got back the base. Knowing I needed to be somewhere else and not being able to get there."
"Yes, I know that feeling. I believe the medical term is formication."
Dean stared at him. "You're shitting me."
Cas' eyes twinkled a little as he added, "No, I'm not. Formication is the sensation of ants crawling under the skin."
"It's really called that?"
"Really. Obviously, you have to be careful how you say it if you don’t wish to be misunderstood."
"Yeah," Dean gave a reluctant grin. "I can see how that might go."
They were silent for a couple of minutes, then Dean gave into the compulsion and touched Cas' hand again. Cas immediately relaxed, and Dean felt all sorts of mean for having dumped his problems on the man who had saved his life.
"It's going to take me a while to get used to this," he ventured.
"Do you think you ever will?" asked Cas, and the carefully-neutral tone made Dean's heart ache.
"Yeah, I think I will. Not much else I can do. And don't talk about breaking the bond. It's not going to happen. Just let me take some time. I'll get there eventually."
"Thank you," Cas said in a soft voice.
He made an attempt to sit up, but was too weak. Dean found the control unit and brought the head of the bed up slowly until Cas was happy with the position. They were almost eye to eye and Dean took Cas' hand again.
"How are your senses?" he asked.
Cas shook his head. "Muted, mostly. I can see and hear you, but everything's muffled."
"Probably just as well. Hospitals are no place for a sentinel."
"True."
Mindful of his duties, Dean asked, "Would you like one of the protein drinks?" When Cas made a face he added, "They're not that bad actually. You even have a choice of flavors -- chocolate, coffee, vanilla or banana."
"I'd rather just have water or juice."
"I don't have juice. I can ring and ask for some though."
"No, leave it for now. Water will do. I'm not even really thirsty."
"Well, they've been feeding you through the tube and the IV, so you shouldn't be."
"Can I get them taken out? My throat is very sore."
"Sure. I'll ring for a nurse."
Cas' grip on his hand tightened. "No, it's all right."
"What's wrong?" Dean tried not to wince at the pain, but Cas must have realized anyway because he let go. "Hey, it's OK, it was just a little tight for a second. Why don't you want me to ring for a nurse?"
Cas looked a little embarrassed. "I ... I like the fact that we're alone. I don't have to worry about anything else. If other people start coming in that I have to go back to being Major Milton and I'd prefer to stay just Cas for a little while longer."
Dean slid his splinted fingers under Cas' hand. "I get that." He did. There was a cozy quality to the room they were in, with the airlock keeping the world at bay. There was no rank in here, no official position, it was just him and Cas, like it had been in Croatoa.
Cas moved himself closer to Dean. "I'm glad they put the beds together."
"Yeah, me too."
"That night, in Croatoa, when we slept..." he paused, as if he wasn't sure exactly how to describe it.
"Yeah, I remember." Dean had been cold and in pain, and Cas had pulled Dean half over himself so that his back wasn't taking any weight and they could keep each other warm. "It felt so comfortable."
"I was sure I wasn't going to sleep at all, I thought you'd be fidgeting and that would keep me awake."
"Nah, I was out like a light."
"So was I."
"You think that's a good omen for the future?"
"I think it could be."
Dean leaned back against the pillows and he and Cas stared at each other until they fell asleep, still holding hands.
~~~~~
Dean wasn't surprised to find that there was a queue of people wanting to see them the next morning. After Dr Banks had pronounced Dean's skin ready for the stem cell application, they endured a tough half-hour with Dr Langhorn who seemed determined to claim Cas' recovery as a product of his own treatment rather than acknowledging Dean's contribution. Once Cas had confidently claimed Dean as his guide, however, Dr Langhorn had no option but to yield ground to Balthazar.
Balthazar looked genuinely pleased to see that Cas was awake and in full possession of his faculties ... and also that Dean hadn't made a break for freedom overnight. He promised to get the preliminary paperwork completed before the end of the day, on the understanding that they would not achieve full partnership status until they could be tested at the Institute.
"I'll liaise with both your unit commanders to ensure that you can be assigned to the Institute during your convalescent leave. There will be some details to sort out, of course, and it may take some time before you are both back on active duty, but that's actually a benefit."
"I guess so," Dean acknowledged, although the prospect of at least three months out of action wasn't pleasant.
"It will be fine," said Cas, reassuringly. "The more we practice working as a team before we need to do so in the field, the safer we'll both be. And I will make very sure that you don't start physical training too soon. I don't want you to risk further injury."
"Huh. Just wait 'til you see what I'm like when I haven't run for a week or two."
Cas smiled. "Bad-tempered?"
"Like you wouldn't believe."
"I think I'll cope."
Balthazar left to make some phone calls, and they managed a half-hour of rest before the burns registrar came in with the stem cell gun. First Dean's back was thoroughly cleaned again to remove all dead cells and exudate, then the raw skin (including the donor site from the night before) was sprayed with the stem cell suspension. After that a special dressing was applied to protect the new cells while they attached to the raw surface and multiplied. Then the process was repeated with his left temple.
Cas watched it all with intent concentration, giving Dean a running commentary.
"It's looking a lot healthier than it did in Croatoa," he commented.
"After the amount of antibiotics they've pumped into me it damn well should," replied Dean. "Not to mention the number of times they've scrubbed it."
Finally it was done, with Dean being advised to stay on his front for the next couple of hours to let everything settle. After that he could sit or stand, but was told not to lie on his back for two days.
He grimaced at that, but made no argument. He wanted to heal as quickly as he could and he definitely wanted that scar to be gone, so he was going to adhere to the doctor's instructions as closely as possible.
Then Cas was freed of his catheter (the nasogastric tube having been removed before breakfast) and they settled down to the most exciting pastime on offer: Scrabble. To his own surprise, Dean won the first two games -- more on strategy than on vocabulary, admittedly, but he still won, and was not gracious in victory, either. Luckily for him, Castiel was the forgiving sort.
~~~~
The mood in the room plummeted after lunch when Cas received a phone call from mortuary services. They required advice on what to do with Anna's body, which had been had been transferred to Landstuhl on the same plane as them and had been resting in the morgue since then, awaiting further instructions.
Cas appeared to be quite upset and Dean reached over to touch his arm. He got a watery smile but no explanation until the call was over and Cas had replaced the phone in its cradle.
"What's up?" he asked.
"My sister's body. They want to know what to do."
"Oh. Didn't she leave any instructions?"
"She did, but apparently they want confirmation from next of kin before carrying them out."
"I guess that's reasonable."
"I suppose so."
"So what did she want?"
"Cremation and scattering of ashes."
"Is that a problem?"
"No, not that. That's fine, it’s the same as I've chosen myself." He sighed, and turned Dean's hand in his own. "The problem is..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dean. I can't explain it to you at the moment. I have to talk to Gabriel."
"OK then," Dean replied, trying not to feel annoyed at being excluded. It was obviously a family thing, and Dean knew only too well how complex and dangerous family issues could be, and how difficult it was to try and explain them to an outsider -- and being Castiel's guide didn't automatically mean that he was entitled to know everything about him and his family. He squeezed Cas' hand as best he could and said, "How about we try another game of Scrabble?"
Unfortunately, the teasingly competitive mood from earlier had disappeared, and it was with some relief that they saw Sam and Gabe entering a while later. Sam, at least, was genuinely pleased for them both; Gabe greeted Cas fondly but his eyes darkened a little whenever he looked at Dean. Well, Dean could hardly blame him for that.
With a brief apologetic glance at Dean, Cas turned on the small portable radio that Sam had brought in the day before and took Gabe to the far corner of the room, where they conversed for several minutes in whispers so quiet that only sentinels had a hope of understanding.
Dean tried to concentrate on Sam, he really did, but he was unable to stop himself glancing over at Cas several times. Finally Sam gave an exasperated sigh and shifted his own position so that Dean had to turn his back on Cas and Gabe in order to see Sam.
"Sammy..."
"Let them talk in peace, Dean. It's obviously private."
"Yeah, I know -- family stuff. Something to do with Anna, anyway."
"Ah."
There was a tone in Sam's voice that got Dean's attention. "You know about this?"
"I know a little, just from something Gabe told me years ago about his own family."
"Well, go on, spill."
Sam shook his head. "It's not my place, and anyway, I could be wrong." He shrugged. "If Cas wants you to know, he'll tell you. If he doesn't want you to know then you should respect his privacy."
"Sammy..."
"No. Come on, talk about something else. I take it the grafting went OK this morning?"
With a sigh, Dean focused on Sam. "Yeah. Took longer to prepare it than it did to spray it. I'm sleeping on my front again for two nights, though, that's not going to be fun."
"Two nights' poor sleep is a pretty low price to pay for a graft that's not going to leave any scars."
"Yeah, I know, I know. I'm just grousing for the sake of it." He gave Sam a self-deprecating smile.
"So do you need any supplies brought in?"
"Yeah, actually -- I need something to do. All the hospital would bring in was one lousy game of Scrabble. The radio's great, but it's background. I need something to concentrate on."
"Books? There should be an English-language bookshop somewhere."
"Yes, books would be fine. Or a game or something."
"I'll see what I can find."
"Great."
Luckily for his peace of mind, Cas and Gabe finished their conversation a couple of minutes later. Cas turned off the radio and Gabe beckoned Sam to come with him.
"We'll be back later," he said, reassuringly. "I just have to get something for Cas."
"Yeah, Sam has to get something for me too," Dean acknowledged.
It was quiet after their visitors had left. Cas got back onto his bed and reached across to rub Dean's forearm. "Sorry," he said, with an apologetic smile.
"It's OK," Dean responded automatically even though his inner child was screaming, Tell me! Tell me! "Family stuff's always awkward to try and explain to outsiders."
~~~~~
Sam and Gabe returned over three hours later, laden with parcels. Sam handed Dean a stack of novels, a set of playing cards and a travel game pack comprising chess, checkers and backgammon. "Sorry, Dean that's the best I could find."
"Hey, it's great, Sam. More than enough to keep us occupied."
Gabe handed Cas a similar stack of novels (more serious-looking than the ones Sam had chosen for Dean, he noted), plus a small pad of paper and a packet of envelopes.
"Thank you," said Castiel, gravely, reaching for a pen on the bedside unit.
"No problem, cuz. I still think you shouldn't bother."
"No, I must do this."
Gabriel sighed. "OK, but don't blame me when it comes right back at you."
"I won't."
While the other three conversed, Cas wrote for perhaps ten minutes, filling two sides of a sheet. With a sigh, he sealed the letter in its envelope and handed it to Gabriel, who held it in such a way that Dean couldn't read the address.
"I'll get it posted tonight," confirmed Gabe.
"Promise?"
Gabe nodded, though his expression showed that he really didn't agree with Cas' actions. "I promise. Cross my heart and everything."
"Thanks."
Dean waited until Sam and Gabriel had left before saying, "Important letter?"
"Yes. I had to write to my parents to inform them of Anna's death."
"Couldn't you phone or send them an email?"
"No, writing is the proper medium for this message."
"So," Dean gave him a smile, "when do I get to meet them?"
Cas closed down immediately. "I'm afraid that will not be possible," he said, his tone cold and forbidding.
"Why not?" He knew he was pushing it, and Sam would be glaring at him if he were still there, but he wasn't, and Dean really wanted to know what the big deal was.
Cas hesitated, then he shrugged and said, slowly, "This will be the first communication with my family for almost nineteen years."
Dean was appalled. Nineteen years? If Cas was thirty-six now, that would mean ... that would mean he had been estranged from his family from the year he turned eighteen.
"What happened?"
"I expressed my desire to join up and serve my country in a way that was commensurate with a sentinel's talents. My parents disapproved. They belong to a small but very strict sect and had never really adjusted to my enhanced senses anyway. Wanting to join the Army was the last straw for them. I think they might have accepted service as a firefighter or emergency medical responder, but police and armed forces are anathema to them."
Dean leaned over and enveloped him in a hug. "That sucks man. I'm sorry."
"It's old history now."
"So, you joined up on your birthday?"
"A few months later, but essentially yes. While I was a minor I was unable to go against their wishes, so I had to delay my application until I had reached the legal age of majority. When Anna and I told them that we had applied and been accepted, they disowned us. Luckily we were able to stay with some friends and then at the Institute until our joining date. Gabriel's family was also supportive -- his mother had left the sect some years before us."
Dean thought about how two kids from such a sheltered background could have coped with being thrown out of the family home. It made his own misfortunes seem small in comparison -- sure, his father had died, but Bobby had stepped in to look after them, and he and Sam had never been homeless. Even when he left to join the army he had always had a place to come home to, family to phone, emails and photos to download and carry with him. He had been very lucky.
He tightened his arms around Cas and nuzzled his hair. He'd have to take Cas home with him for Thanksgiving or Christmas. He wasn't sure if Sam and Gabe would be able to get leave, but Bobby and Jodi and all the gang in Sioux Falls would love to meet his new partner. He'd give Cas a new family; a better family.
"This skin graft of yours is most inconvenient. I want to hug you back but I can't touch your skin."
"Yeah, it sucks. But it's a whole lot better than the old-style grafts."
"True." Cas ran his hands over Dean's arms, and gave him a wistful smile. "I think I shall develop an intimate acquaintance with your forearms over the next couple of weeks."
"I think I'd like that."
~~~~~
The following morning brought the news that two officers would be flying in to debrief them about the mission in Croatoa.
Dean immediately felt nauseated and started to hyperventilate. He had been doing his best to suppress all memory of those nightmare days and felt he had largely succeeded. He had no desire to go through everything again, especially when he knew that he wouldn't come out of it well. He'd failed, badly, and there was no amount of fast-talk that could disguise it, and he really, really, didn't want to think about Jackson and Ponzi and Colonel Alistair.
"Dean. Dean." Cas was holding him, murmuring his name, running hands up and down his arms.
Dean opened his eyes -- when had he closed them? -- and realized that they were alone. That was good. He hadn't embarrassed himself and Cas by breaking down in front of the medical staff.
"Sorry," he whispered, letting his head fall forward onto Cas' shoulder.
"It's all right. You're here, you're safe."
"I know. I know that."
"Knowing it isn't the same as feeling it."
"I just have to get a grip on things."
"You will."
Dean forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly, and that, combined with Cas' continued rubbing of his arm, enabled him to emerge slowly from the cloud of panic that had surrounded him.
He straightened up and gave Cas a bleak nod. "I'm OK now."
"Good." Cas straightened up too, and let go of him with a reassuring final pat on the arm.
Dean felt a paradoxical urge to pull him close again, but resisted. Guide or no guide, that didn't mean that he was attached to his sentinel at the hip, and he had no intention of turning into another Sam.
On the other hand ... he could do with a friendly face around when he was being questioned.
"Do sentinels and guides get to do joint debriefs?" he asked.
"Usually, yes. Why?"
"I really don't like the idea of being questioned on my own. It's stupid, I know it's not a trial or anything, they just want to get at the facts, but..."
"You feel that it might all get twisted around and you want someone who can support your account if necessary."
"Yeah. It's not like our accounts are going to be contaminated because everything they'll want to know happened before the team rescued me."
"Likewise, any information they want from me is likely to be from the period immediately preceding the extraction. The only part they may have an issue with is the time between leaving the camp and the destruction of the helicopter."
"Well there isn't much I can say for that part, anyway, I was face down in the helo for most of it."
"In which case they'll probably agree. And there is no point excluding me from your part of the debrief, since I can listen in from anywhere in the hospital."
"You can?"
"Yes. Now I know your heartbeat and your scent I could follow you anywhere."
"Wow." And that was either the most endearing or the most stalkery thing Dean had ever heard. He didn't doubt it, though -- sentinels had been known to track their guides over impossible distances. Hell, back when Sam had been kidnapped Gabe had found him four days later and fifty kilometers away when there was no scent trail at all ... and Dean still thought there was something hinky about that, but neither Sam nor Gabe had ever explained it, except to say it was a sentinel thing.
"So we'll go through the debriefing together."
"Thanks," Dean said, and he honestly meant it. He knew he'd have to talk about his ordeal in Croatoa -- which was going to be nearly as bad as going through it the first time -- and while one part of him was terrified that Cas would think him a coward, another part was rationally reminding him that Cas had already got the condensed version when they were picked up. He already knew the worst and still wanted Dean for his guide ... or at least, he hadn't refused him, which was the next best thing.
Cas smiled at him, and he felt a little better.
"Dean, is there anything you wish me to know before the debriefing?"
Or maybe not.
Cas frowned. "Your expression and the change in your heart rate indicate that my question disturbed you."
Oh, great. How could he forget that he was now bonded to a human lie detector? Cas did have a point, though. He was going to be going through some fairly disturbing stuff during the session, and he wasn't really sure he was going to hold it together.
"You know what I told you and the captain when we got picked up. They'll want more details. They'll want to know exactly what he did, exactly what I said."
Cas touched his arm again. "I already know that you were tortured and raped. I already know that you broke down and gave him information. That doesn't make you a bad person. It doesn't make you weak."
Dean threw him a glance but there was nothing in his tone to indicate how disgusted he might feel. It didn't matter, anyway. Dean had more than enough disgust for himself. "I'm a soldier. I've done the training. I should have been stronger."
"It doesn't matter how strong you are or how much training you've had. Everyone breaks. I'd say your breaking point was ... appropriate."
"Appropriate?"
"Yes."
"How the fuck do you work that out?"
Cas shrugged. "You're alive and not permanently damaged."
"But --"
"What information did you give up?"
Dean forced himself to say the words. "Everything. Prisoner locations, call-signs, frequencies, patrol schedules, access codes ... anything they asked for."
Cas was silent for a minute, and Dean slowly folded in on himself. He'd given Colonel Alistair everything. He was a traitor to his unit, to his fellow-soldiers. He'd betrayed everyone. He should have died rather than given up.
Cas considered the information gravely, and said, "That doesn't sound too bad to me."
"What?"
"Everything you gave up was small-scale and time-limited. Inconsequential. Unimportant in the long run. If they haven't already used it, they won't get the chance."
"But ... So what would you call important?"
"Things that can't be changed quickly. Strategic plans, undercover agent identities, advanced R&D, materiel acquisitions, that sort of thing."
"I don't know any of that."
"I know. So you never had anything that was worth losing a body part for."
"But--"
"No buts. Torture isn't a contest. I mean it -- you don't get any prizes for holding out. The only goal is survival, and sometimes that is best achieved by giving in. In my opinion you made the right call at the right time."
The words were meant to be a comfort to him, he knew, but somehow he just couldn't believe it. He'd fucked up and he'd failed badly. That was never going to go away.
"Whatever you say, sir."
Cas cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "I'm not telling you this as an officer. I'm not even telling you as a sentinel. I'm just speaking as one soldier to another. You survived and you escaped. That means you won. And because you escaped, we now have important information about the Croatoans we didn't have before."
"Like what?"
"Firstly, they had a spy in the camp. Secondly, they were so keen to get those prisoners back they risked unmasking their spy and taking out a convoy from within our front lines to get information. And thirdly, they have a rogue interrogator who may well prove to be a weak spot."
"How the hell to do work all that out?"
Cas shrugged. "It’s just logical extrapolation."
Dean just stared at him. When he actually thought about it, he could see how Cas had come to his conclusions, but he would never have bothered to start the process in the first place. Well, that was why Cas was an officer and he was just a soldier.
~~~~~
The debriefing the following day was just as harrowing as Dean had expected. The two officers were determinedly neutral in their attitude and Dean was worried that he was going to get reprimanded for what he'd done. Not even the presence of Cas could stop him hyperventilating a couple of times as he described what Colonel Alistair had done to him and Jackson and Ponzi. For some reason it was still Ponzi -- Ponzi's ruined face and helpless whimpers -- that affected him the most. He was grateful for Cas beside him, holding onto his arm and forcing the debriefing team to give him a break.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to Cas as he struggled with a beaker of juice.
"Don't be. You're doing very well."
"It gets so difficult to breathe when I think about it."
"I know. Only a few more minutes and then it will be my turn. You can hold on for a few more minutes, can't you?"
Dean nodded. He could do this. He could do it for Cas. He could do it for his team; for the ones who'd died.
He made it through to the end, though it took an immense effort not to break down again, even with Castiel's calm presence beside him. He finished his description of that last session with the colonel, the return to his cell for night and the morning routine, before relating how Anna entered his cell and helped him to escape.
He was grateful for the additional break for refreshments they took before starting Castiel's debrief, though the two biscuits and lukewarm coffee weren't nearly enough to settle him. Cas made him take one of the protein drinks as well -- he made a face, but he had to admit that it helped.
Castiel's portion of the debrief was much more straightforward. He laid out the mission briefing before they left, the scouting expedition, the decision to enter in daylight as soon as he had made an aural survey of the camp rather than waiting for the early hours of the morning (which Dean was profoundly grateful for, as he would have been considerably worse off after another session with Colonel Alistair) and the mad dash to the helicopter. He had a little difficulty maintaining his composure when he described Anna getting shot, and Dean took the opportunity to give him a consoling one-armed hug when they took a short break. After that, though, he managed to provide a concise and accurate account of the firefight and the way the helicopter had been disabled.
Then it was Dean's turn again, relating their subsequent journey through southern Croatoa, the death of Anna, and his attempts to keep Cas aware and focused on the mission. He had to confess that his memory of the last twelve hours or so was fuzzy but that didn't seem to worry the two officers.
Castiel followed with his own version of their journey. Dean wasn't surprised to find that Cas had noted many more patrols than he'd let on, but he was a little disconcerted when Cas described just how sick Dean had been. From the way Cas put it, he'd been lucky he was still standing and able to talk by the time they were picked up. Cas also gave a quick summary of his initial treatment at the hospital, before they'd been separated. Although he was careful not to criticize the medical staff, it was clear that he had tried to remain with Dean and been forcibly removed.
Finally they were done, and the two officers packed up their recording equipment and left Dean and Cas to recover in peace.
Dean found that he was almost shaking, and Cas wasn't much better. They ate their lunch in silence and stayed as close to each other as possible.
"I think they're going to force me into seeing a psych," Dean muttered as he pushed his tray away.
Cas nodded. "It's standard practice after something like that. And honestly, Dean, it will probably help."
"Maybe, but I don't feel comfortable opening up to a stranger."
"You just debriefed to two people you'd never seen before."
"That's different -- I was just telling them what happened. I didn't have to tell them how I feel about it. I didn't have to go into any details about my shitty childhood or my dreams or anything."
"Well you may not have to with the psych either. It depends on what comes up in the screening."
"I guess." He knew he didn't sound convinced.
He was dreading it, in fact. He'd been through the psychological screening process before, when he'd returned from deployment, and he'd just laughed it off. He had a feeling he wouldn't be able to do that this time, even without Cas alongside to as his own personal lie detector. After what he'd been through there was no way that the psychs would clear him back to combat status until he'd been turned inside out.
Cas rubbed his arm gently, and Dean managed to come up with a smile. He'd deal with the psych as and when it was necessary. Until then all he had to do was heal and get to know his new partner.
~~~~~
Late that afternoon Sam and Gabe came in to say goodbye. Gabe was carrying a bakery carton and the smell of cooked apples caught Dean's attention immediately.
"Is that for me?" he asked.
"No it's for the cleaning staff," replied Gabriel immediately. "Oh, by the way, good evening, Gabe, it's nice to see you, Gabe, thank you for visiting."
"Word to the wise, Gabe," said Sam, taking the carton from him and putting it on Dean's tray table. "Never get between Dean and pie."
"Damn right," said Dean with a grin. He opened the carton and eagerly lifted out the contents, taking a deep, appreciative sniff. "Well it certainly smells like pie even if it doesn't look quite the same."
"It's apfeltasche," Sam said. "It translates to apple pocket. But it tastes the same, I can assure you."
"Excellent." He smiled happily at Gabe and said, "Thank you for the pie."
"You're welcome ... more or less. And it's for Cas too."
"Of course." He smiled across at Cas, then looked up at Sam. "I don't suppose you managed any cream or ice cream?"
Sam rolled his eyes and reached into his bag and pulled out a small tub of cream. "They don't have cream in a can here, but that's the finest clotted cream I could find. Guaranteed to annihilate the arteries if you take more than a teaspoonful."
"You're a god, Sammy. I know how it must have hurt to have to pay for that."
"Yeah, well, it's our last visit so I figured I could deal with the pain."
"Now all we need is a couple of bowls and spoons and we're set." He gave Sam his best puppy eyes and waited.
Sam heaved a sigh of capitulation and went to get something they could use to eat the apfeltasche.
Gabe turned to Cas. "How did the interrogation go?"
"It was a debriefing. And it went well," Cas responded.
Dean snorted. Yeah, right.
"It did," Cas repeated, giving him a stern look.
"I needed two time-outs."
"I needed one, also."
Dean rolled his eyes. He suspected Cas had only insisted on a short break because he felt it would make Dean feel better about his own almost-meltdown. Still, it was all over now, unless they decided to have an inquest, in which case he'd have to go over the same ground over again. He hoped that Cas was right and that it would get easier with practice.
"But they were OK with it?" Gabe asked.
"Yes, they reviewed the tapes over lunch and came back with some additional questions, but as far as we know, it's all done now."
"Good. So all you have to do is get better and go back home."
"Eventually, yes. We'll have to wait until Dean is fit to travel, but that shouldn't be more than a fortnight. Balthazar is trying to get us a temporary attachment to the Institute while we're on convalescent leave."
"That will be good. I've only visited briefly, but it's a beautiful site."
"It is." Cas didn't say any more and looked as if the memory had upset him. Dean reached out with his bandaged hand and stroked his shoulder, receiving a grateful smile in return.
Sam returned with two bowls and two spoons, and soon Dean and Cas were tucking into their apple pastry (once Sam had chopped the pastry into spoon-sized pieces, since Dean still had problems trying to put any pressure through his broken hands). Even Cas had had to admit that the hospital food was unappetizing, and the pie was a welcome change.
Dean watched Cas eating, and felt content. Sure, he'd had a bad couple of weeks, but his injuries were healing, he had a kick-ass sentinel partner and he was getting on better with his brother's partner than he had in years. Add pie to that, and he had to say that life was pretty damned good at the moment.
Whatever came up in the next few months ... well, he'd deal. He always did.
The End (for now)