“It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.”
Dean sounds like a broken record even to his own ears and normally it’d sicken him to be acting like he’s so out of his depth (although this time he is even if he can’t admit it to himself) but right now he doesn’t care because the only thing that’s important right now is keeping Cas from turning into the next nuclear warhead. Not even the searing pain in his whole body matters. However, that seems to ease into a constant, dull throb in a short amount of time.
Castiel is healing him with whatever sense of self-control he’s got left.
This fact alone causes him to let go with a gasp, yet he still lingers close, hand readily placing itself on his shoulder. At least it’s not a full-on body hug. Even if Castiel did help out Dean’s sure that he’s gonna have some very interesting burn marks for quite some time.
He looks over and nods to Balthazar in acknowledgement.
Don’t mention it. Now help me lay his feathery-ass down on the floor.
In the next second Dean’s working to pull Castiel down into a laying position so he can recharge his batteries, let off some steam, or whatever it is he needs to do.
Worry gnaws at Dean’s insides, or maybe that’s just the pain finally kicking in from the several 1st to 2nd degree burns on his body. No matter what happens, like hell he’s gonna leave Castiel’s side.
So he sits and waits.
Emotions will ruin Castiel someday, he knows this for a fact now. The souls thrive whenever he is unstable and threatened. He is still angry, furious in fact, that Balthazar will do this to him, behind his back. He’s done it before, choose the Winchester over him, his friend. And now, now he’s done more.
The fury rises once again and Castiel can feel his chest tighten, the souls wanting to manifest over and above him, execute the rage with with pure chaos and destruction. He can’t have his attention scattered now, not like this. Because of this, he almost lost his friend once again. Two friends, more likely.
He shouldn’t have come.
For now, he needs to prioritize. He can’t lose control.
Objective realigned, Castiel begins to feel the souls battle him harder for the right to manifest. Castiel focuses all his energy inside, where the true battlefield is. Everything that he doesn’t need to continue functioning can wait.
The first to stop are his lungs. Castiel simply stops breathing, his chest takes one last lift and ceases movement entirely. His senses go off one by one, his touch, his sight, his speech, smell and then his sense of hearing. Even his wings collapse.
The last is his heart. It simply stops beating. The mimicry of a human vessel ceases to function and all that Castiel is becomes a dead weight on his feet, a marionette.
Inside his mind, the war renews with vigor and vengeance. Castiel fights for his right to rule his body.
Balthazar helps lay him down gently and even goes down with him.
But he chokes when Castiel stops breathing.
"Cas?!" In a second, he’s on all fours over his brother, feeling for his grace. The angel bites his lip because he certainly isn’t panicking. Nope, not one bit. He’s not sweating because he knows Castiel’s vessel is shutting down, just not a trace of adrenaline at all; you know, basic steps right?
No, he doesn’t know what the hell is going on.
After a moment of frantic examination, he finds good news. Balthazar can feel his brother’s grace working discretely under the mask of the body and that calms him down a bit but what the hell can he do? Maybe keep the body running so he wouldn’t have to worry about getting everything working again when he finishes with…whatever’s going on. Good grief, he hopes Cas is alright in there.
By now, he had assumed there was in a civil war going on among him and the souls. Sparing a glance up at Dean, he settles in next to his brother with an arm draped over the center of his Castiel’s chest, still constantly mending the skin tissues with mojo.
"Go treat those burns or something. I’ll heal them after this but I’m lost; I don’t know how to help him. Did he tell you anything about this before now?"
The skin breaks again and he sighs, pushing a hand against the opening and healing it quickly. He starts flooding the body with grace hoping it’ll be of some use instead of acting against him in any way.
Closing his brother’s still eyes, he murmurs under a breath. “I didn’t know it was going to be this bad.”
Of course, of course, darling. Heard all of it at least once before. You’re not applying this to us, are you?
…Are you quite done yet?