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“Do you trust me?”
Castiel’s head lifted timidly, piercing blue eyes meeting Dean’s forest green gaze. He stood rigid for a moment, unwilling to speak despite the fact that his lips were partially open and ready to talk.
Dean chuckled and stretched out his hand again. “I’m going to need a verbal answer here, Cas.”
Castiel looked down at Dean’s offered hand, heart fluttering like butterfly wings in his chest. Dean’s hand was coated in scars and callouses from years of hunting. There was even a deep scar on his palm from a knife that had almost sliced clean through his hand. Castiel had offered to heal it when he saw it, but Dean had been adamant that it was one that he wanted to keep, no matter how gnarled it appeared.
“I’m not sure,” Castiel mumbled, looking aside and down at the floor.
With an audible sigh, Dean kneeled down in front of him and rested his arm across Castiel’s knees before pressing his chin on his arm. His eyes tipped upward to Castiel, a smile on his face.
“You’re never going to know unless you try. Don’t worry; I’m going to be right beside you the whole time,” Dean reassured.
Castiel squeezed his eyes shut forcefully, feeling apprehension rise like a wave in his stomach. He never would’ve thought that he would be here, feeling so human, and deal with real human problems. It was a testament to Dean that he had stuck by him the whole time, but feeling like a burden was perhaps one of the roughest emotions Castiel had experienced.
Dean stood once more, this time offering both hands right in front of him.
Castiel took in a deliberate breath and brought both of his hands down on Dean’s, gripping up at his wrists firmly as he attempted to rise from the chair, legs feeling like they would buckle at any moment.
Dean jumped to Castiel’s side, still grasping Castiel’s left hand, but now using his right arm to wrap around his waist to keep him upright. Their hips pressed against one another, Dean trying to take as much of Castiel’s weight as possible. He wasn’t overly heavy, but it was a challenge when neither of them were completely comfortable with what they were doing.
“You okay,” Dean questioned.
Castiel closed his eyes tightly, chest quaking with each breath. “I-I’m okay.”
“Alright. Just let me know if you’re not.” Dean looked around the length of Bobby’s living room. It wasn’t an overly long trek, but it would definitely be a challenging one. “Think we can make it across the room?”
Castiel’s eyes widened in alarm. He looked from Dean to the opposite side of the room, before sinking back down to his feet that were slightly turned in. There was no doubt in his mind that if Dean wasn’t there beside him, taking most of his weight, that they would’ve twisted all the way in and he would’ve crumpled to the ground with no way to stand back up.
How has such a powerful angel become someone that now struggled to so much as walk across a room?
“Cas?”
“I am unsure, Dean,” Castiel responded curtly.
Dean nodded in understanding. “How about we just try? You trust me, right? You know I’m not going to let you fall.”
“I do trust you.”
A wide smile showed on Dean’s face as he took a tiny step forward, still keeping his arm around Castiel and holding his opposite forearm upward to help keep Castiel balanced and upright. It was a technique he had been taught when Castiel was in the hospital when he first heard the term ‘early onset Parkinson’s Disease’.
Dean still remembered the shock of that diagnosis and had argued with the doctor for a good twenty minutes about it. Castiel used to be an angel and now that he was human a disease like Parkinson’s had taken control of him. Dean had been in denial for the first week that Castiel was in the hospital, relearning how to walk after a particularly rough fall down the stairs that left all of them shocked.
It had taken a long time for both Dean and Castiel to come to terms with the diagnosis and do research on their own as well as read over the information the doctors at the hospital had given them. Although Dean didn’t want to, he had to admit that many of the symptoms had been right there in front of them so many times but neither one wanted to admit it. Tremors, difficulty walking, emotionless features, and a hoarse voice were all early symptoms that Castiel had exhibited that they chalked up to exhaustion or a particularly grueling hunt now that Castiel was human. Now, Dean was left to wonder what would’ve happened if they would’ve gotten help perhaps a year ago.
After a particular night of pity drinking, Sam had taken his brother by the shoulders and shook some sense into him.
“You need to make a choice whether you’re going to stick by and help or feel sorry for yourself, and if that’s the case don’t bring Cas down with you!”
That had been the wake up call that Dean had needed and the next day he spent every second at the hospital, learning about Castiel’s physical therapy exercises and what he could do to make Bobby’s house as accessible as possible. He had looked up special meals that claimed to do some good, and even the benefit of sleep and herbs that could help with the pain the tremors brought.
Castiel would’ve been lying if he said he expected that from Dean. He knew that the hunter cared for him greatly, but to stick by him when his body was attacking itself was something else entirely. He had expected Dean and Sam to drop him off at some rehab center and wish him the best; he never expected them to go this far and do everything in their power to give him an easy and worthwhile life with everything that he needed to have a productive life.
“Alright, let’s just try taking half a step,” Dean explained, breaking Castiel from his thoughts.
Castiel set his jaw in determination, willing his foot to slide forward. Despite his best efforts, it wouldn’t budge. His foot felt like a large hunk of cement that was rooted to the ground. All the will that he possessed couldn’t get him to lift it.
Dean watched Castiel’s face crumple in frustration, lip attempting to curl, but partially unable to. The last thing he wanted was for Castiel to give up, and he feared that may happen if he didn’t step in.
“Okay, I’m going to see if I can help a little bit.” Dean placed his left foot behind Castiel’s left heel and used his toe to lift his foot an inch off the ground. “Swing your hip to force your foot forward just like Dr. Thym said.”
Castiel nodded, foot lifted into the air and set down barely half a foot in front of him. The shifting of weight had his right leg bucking into Dean, holding onto his left arm for dear life.
Dean tightened his grip around Castiel, spreading his legs so he was able to keep him upright. “It’s alright. It’s alright. I got you. You’re not going to fall,” Dean chided.
Tears clung to Castiel’s eyelashes as he turned his head to the side and forced his head against Dean’s chest. Dean was only taken off guard for a moment before relishing in the touch and resting his chin on top of Castiel’s head, murmuring soft reassurances.
“It’s alright. You’re okay. It was just a little slip. It’ll happen.”
Castiel shook his head determinedly. “Shouldn’t.”
“What?” Dean questioned, pulling slightly away so that Castiel’s voice wasn’t as heavily muffled.
Castiel looked back up, searching Dean’s face for something that Dean couldn’t place. It was almost pleading, alarmed, though Dean wasn’t certain. It was much more difficult now to know what Castiel was thinking based solely on his facial expressions.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” Castiel finally confessed in a tone hardly louder than a whisper.
“No, you’re right. This isn’t fair that this is happening to you. It’s shitty and I can’t understand it, and I know that nothing I say will make it better. However, that doesn’t mean that this is the end. We’re going to get through this.” Dean planted a kiss on Castiel’s forehead. “You just have to fight with me.”
Castiel took in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Well, I do!” Dean gave him a tight hug before releasing him and taking his regular position beside him, still holding him close and taking his weight like he had before. “And we are going to do this together. You fall....I fall. Understand?”
Castiel wanted to point out how Dean didn’t have to do this, stay with him, and put himself through this. However, whatever he thought he wanted to say was taken away when he looked over to Dean and saw the affection he had in his gaze. That wouldn’t have been there if Dean didn’t care for him in one way or another and that was something that Castiel had grown to learn wouldn’t have been there if Dean want to be with him. They had been through so much in a generally short period of time, and their bond had only strengthened.
“I want to try again,” Castiel announced, jaw clenched in determination. He picked up his right foot gingerly, able to bring it forward more than he had been able to do with his left.
It wasn’t too much of a change, but it was enough for Dean. He beamed when he saw, excitement coursing through his veins.
“There you go, Cas! Look where determination is getting us.” Dean nodded to Castiel’s left leg, which was definitely his weaker side. “Try with your left.”
Castiel nodded timidly, forcing all of his concentration into lifting his left leg. Frustration settled through him when he was only able to turn his foot to the side and scrape it forward, almost tripping on it if not for Dean reaching out his own foot to straighten it out. The two of them were able to force the foot to rest on the ground without fear of Castiel fumbling over it when he tried to move the next one.
They repeated the process until they arrived at the opposite side of the room where Castiel promptly collapsed on the couch, taking Dean with him when he tipped over out of exhaustion.
The two fell into a tangle of limbs, laughing and playfully pushing against one another.
“Told you I’d fall with you,” Dean joked, reaching over to plant a light kiss on the tip of Castiel’s nose.
Castiel let out an affectionate grumble, butting his head back against Dean’s shoulder. “And did I say that I didn’t believe you?”
Dean rolled onto his back until they were pressed against one another again, Castiel head on Dean’s shoulder while Dean rested his on top of Castiel’s head. Their legs were intertwined together, courtesy of Dean since Castiel was still working on gaining back his mobility. Dean had one of Castiel’s hands in both of his, lightly peppering it with kisses over the knuckles. Shivers chased down Castiel’s spine with each touch of Dean’s lips, breath catching in his lungs.
“You know I’d be with you no matter what, right,” Dean whispered once he had settled back against Castiel, enjoying the feeling of soft hair brushing against his jaw.
Castiel closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of Dean’s toothpaste and aftershave. “I don’t want to put this on you. This isn’t your fight.”
“Your fight is my fight. You would do the same for me and you know it.” Dean yawned, jaws open wide. “I want to spend whatever time both of us have left with you. If that’s ten years or 100, I don’t care. We’re going to get through this, I promise.”
Castiel let out a hum of understanding, enjoying the feeling of knowing that Dean would always be at his side.