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Not Burnt and Broken
“You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be.”
Dean hesitated a second when Castiel said that. It wasn't something he had been expecting to hear, especially after the actual beating the angel had given him when he thought his faith in Dean had been misplaced.
“Thank you, I appreciate that,” Dean replied.
“You’re welcome,” Castiel replied, and Dean stopped him before he could hang up.
“Uh, Cas?”
“Yes, Dean,”
“The banishing sigil – you said it hurt.”
“It does. Very much so.”
Dean gripped his phone tightly, turning away from Sam and Bobby, as if the fact that they couldn't see his face would mean they couldn't hear him either.
“But you did it anyway. Thank you for that. But, Cas….” Dean hesitated.
“Yes, Dean.” Castiel urged patiently.
“The first time, when I did it, you still had your powers when you came back.”
He clearly heard Cas sigh.
“Maybe it's because it happened twice in a short amount of time,” Cas mused. “Or maybe because I did it to myself. Hopefully, my Grace will recover.”
Dean’s heart dropped. He would never have had this happen to the angel, and certainly not on the hunter’s behalf.
“You did that for us, Cas. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It is my privilege to help you.”
Sam cleared his throat lightly.
“Anyway,” Dean hurried on, “Bobby’ll send that money and I’ll call once or twice a day and let you know where we are.”
“Thank you, Dean. And good luck.”
“So, how’s your angel?” Bobby asked when Dean closed his phone and turned back to face them.
“He’s not my angel, and he’s not great.” Dean replied gruffly.
Sam snorted and then looked at Dean innocently. “Let’s pack up, then,” Sam suggested.
Dean gave his brother a glare and went out to check the weapons in the Impala’s trunk.