#misión de resCASte jejeje

[castieldelamancha]

This secluded spot in the forest glows beautifully under the full moon's light that filters through the dense canopy above their heads, tall trees make finding a clear path impossible, their roots a constant obstacle threatening to make him stumble and fall. Any other day, at any other time, he would have even considered this place perfect for a walk and a picnic. However, Dean doesn't have the time to stop and wonder in the beauty of it all right now. His lungs burn as he keeps running, muscles protesting, his gun ready in his hands. Of course the demon working with the witches they came here for would recognize them, of course he would think it would be a good idea to convince the witches of using Cas as a sacrifice for their latest ritual. He hisses as a nearby branch cuts the skin of his forearm open.

He keeps going, though, he has to make it. He can't be late. They already lost a precious amount of time trying to figure out the spot where the witches were going to meet tonight. He can here Sam's heavy footsteps behind him, he hisses his name, probably trying to get Dean to stop, or at least slow down so they can discuss a way to proceed that doesn't involve going in, guns blazing and no plan to escape if things go wrong.

Dean is way past that right now, he is sick with worry, he is angry they dared to harm his family, he is too aware of Castiel's humanity too.

It all goes so fast, once Dean see an opening in the sea of trees, he can hear the chants, growing louder and louder as they approach the clearing, he can see the light of a fire, taste its smoke in the air around them. He runs even faster, it can't be too late, he can't lose Cas now. Dean doesn't know how it happens but he is suddenly standing in the middle of the clearing , breathing heavily, surrounded by dead bodies, he can see Sam out of the corner of his eye, trying to regain his breath too as he puts away his gun, still keeping an eye on their surroundings. And Dean thinks that's great because all he can think of right now is Castiel.

He rushes to where Cas is lying on the tall grass, tied up and naked from the waist up, eyes closed. Surrounded by purple flowers that dance with the breeze and fill the air all with their essence, he isn't moving.

Dean calls his name, his voice growing desperate, his hands trying to get rid of the ropes around his wrists, they are trembling slightly as he reaches for his knife to cut them, "c'mon cas, c'mon" he mutters under his breath. Once Cas' arms and legs are free he gathers him in his arms, hugging him tightly against his chest, rocking the both of them gently, back and forth. He is glad he is kneeling on the ground already, because he feels his legs trembling with relief as Castiel lets out a small groan. He moves back, still holding onto Cas, enough to see his face, searching it for any wounds. Castiel squints at him and Dean can tell he already has a headache from Hell, he kisses Cas right between his eyes, letting his nose slide down against Cas'.

A tear escapes his eye, it doesn't go far, as a thumb is there to catch it, followed by a soft, whispered, "Dean."

" 'm right here," he presses his lips against Castiel's forehead, unbothered by the streak of dirt on his skin, "it's over." He doesn't quiet know if he is clinging so tight for Cas' or his own benefit, but soon enough Cas has gathered enough strength to hug back just as tightly.