Dean rushed into the bunker, yelling Castiel's name before the door even shut all the way behind him. There was no reply, which only made him more uneasy. He hurried to Cas's room and glanced around. It was empty, but he froze when he heard a soft noise coming from the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar...

Airing on the side of caution, Dean drew his gun. With one hand he pushed the door the rest of the way open.

"Oh, Cas..."

The former angel didn't even look up. He was seated cross-legged on the floor, leaning up against the wall. His arms were streaked with red, and he was still holding a hunting knife to the inside of his wrist.

Dean let his gun fall to the ground.

"Cas, put it down."

Of all the horrible shit Dean had seen over the years, this was somehow one of the worst. He felt sick, and he had to swallow hard to keep his breakfast from coming up.

"I just need a little more." Cas muttered feverishly. His eyes were fixed on the cold steel pressing against his vein.

"Cas, if you cut there, you could die. Please just put the knife down." Dean begged, inching closer towards him.

"Why?"

"Come on, buddy. We've talked about this..."

Dean finally got close enough to snatch the blade out of his friend's hand. He tossed it out of Castiel's reach. Dean released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Let's get you cleaned up."

To Dean's relief, none of the cuts were particularly deep; although there were a lot of them. Cas was mostly silent while Dean washed and disinfected the cuts, only wincing slightly at the sting. There were far too many to cover in band aids, and Cas refused to let him bandage them.

"Dammit, Cas. Let me take care of you for once!"

"I don't want them bandaged."

"Why?"

"I need to be able to feel them brushing against my sleeves."

Dean gave a frustrated sigh. "Is this some sort of weird-ass pain kink?"

Cas looked confused. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Nevermind." Dean rubbed his temples. "You were doing so good, Cas...what happened?"

"I...I couldn't breathe." Cas mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever feel...I mean, these days I can barely even..." Cas was having trouble putting it into words. "It helps. That's all you need to know."

Dean sat next to him on the bed. "We need to find something else, because this isn't healthy."

"I'll be fine."

"Like hell! Dammit, what is so bad about living with me and Sam that you feel like you've gotta slice yourself open to breathe?" Dean's voice rose.

"It's not that," Cas desperately tried to find the words. "It's this whole...being human thing...you wouldn't understand."

Dean snorted. "What it's like to be human? I think I understand it pretty damn well."

"No, Dean. What it's like to be human after being an all-powerful celestial existence. Having it ripped from you so suddenly...with no warning. You've been human all your life. You know how. You've used your humanity to do great things, things that angels couldn't even do. But I'm like an infant...I've had to adjust to being weak and fragile and...and useless."

"You're not useless." Dean's voice softened.

"I truly wish I believed that."